Keeping Score

When you were a kid, you learned on the playground that life is not fair—big kids picked on little kids because they could. They didn’t need a reason. I guess it made them feel better, recalling how it was when they were little and got picked on and now figured it was their turn to be the boss. If you were like me, you probably gritted your teeth and promised to get even with them someday, somehow.

But then, also like me, your mom probably took you to Sunday school and bought you a Bible of your own and encouraged you to read it. Passages like “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord” and “Judgment day will come for evil-doers” found their way into my heart and soothed my ruffled feelings, and I waited eagerly for my tormentors “to reap what they sowed”.

As I grew older, I occasionally ran into other adults who I figured had been that kind of bad kids, who still thought they were more important, more fun, members of the “in-crowd” who seemed to consider me and my friend out of step, a source of entertainment at our expense. They huddled in a private group, whispering and laughing if we ordinary folk passed by. A puzzling situation best ignored; other people in the workplace- (and the church) considered us normal—We may have been a few years older, not wearing the newest styles, but still?

Embarrassed and hurt, I asked God why He permitted us to be so abused and when was He going to handle this hateful treatment.

Now, I’m sure you have learned as I did, that God doesn’t feel obliged to let us enjoy His “handling the problem”, but bless His Holy Name, this time He pulled back His curtain for me to see. One of these young women fell in the office and broke her hip, had surgery and their group seemed to lose their focus. Months later, she returned to work, leaning on her cane. No longer carefree. No longer looking young.

She sought me out to tell me of the changes in her life. Doctors had replaced her hip but told her it was good for 10-15 years before needing another replacement surgery, and due to being bedfast so long, her other hip must also be replaced periodically. Now in her early 30s and no fun, her husband left to find someone else to party with. She told me she had finally understood what her mother had told her: “Sometimes God has to get us flat on our backs before we look up to Him” and her life forward was with her mother and with her God.

I was happy now. Not glad because of all she had lost, but for all she gained. And grateful that God showed me the difference in revenge and forgiveness. She found the difference in fun and peace.

Just Imagine

 History tells us that Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Can you picture this? As flames approached his palace, did he feel immune from harm, with smoke circling around his head?

Imagine with me a sunlit community where one lovely house, bigger than the rest, crowned the neighborhood in its brilliant white splendor, envied by many,  and perfect in every way--except for a wisp of smoke rising into the summer sky from its chimney.

Alarmed, a neighbor called the fire department and soon they arrived in their big red truck, axes in hand, and knocked on the door. The cloud of smoke was now bigger and much darker, but the lady who opened her door seemed unaware and questioned the firemen, refusing to let him in to check. "With those boots. on my lovely carpet? You are NOT going to swarm all over my clean house, breaking things with that huge axe!  Goo away! Leave me alone."

They tried to reason with her, but she refused to listen, so they sadly left her to her delusion and retreated to the street to wait, in case the fire spread beyond her house and endangered others.

Now, imagine two people from a local church, Bible in hand, knocking on your door. You weigh your options: let them in and listen to them tell you all the things you must change in your life in the hope of some reward later? Or send them away--you're happy and enjoying your life, doing as you please?    

Still, isn't it possible they know something you don't know? Isn't it worth checking out--just in case?

Behold I stand and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door,

         I will come in  to him and will dine with him , and he with me.

                                                                              Revelations 3:20

Digging for Gold

 Wisdom can come from various places, sometimes surprising places. Take gold miners for example. There are a few TV shows featuring their frenzied efforts to get rich quick. One thing they learn quickly is that it doesn’t promise riches quickly (or ever); it requires a hunger, hard work, team work, perseverance, and the ability to learn from experience. 

He learns to “read” the ground, to negotiate with owners for permission to mine, bring in his faithful crew and work hard to find the treasure he seeks. Now, I can look at a green hillside beside a river and see a lovely place created by God—he visualizes a future based on successfully probing the earth for the riches below. 

I have evaluated the Bible and believe there are riches beyond measure deep inside, which I can own if I am willing to search. (Actually, my name is in the Title Book, so they belong to me whether I ever find them and hold them); Since age and infirmity limit my reach, I have enlisted a team of ministers like Dr. Jeremiah, Dr. Jeffress, and others  I meet with weekly or daily via television to direct my search for gold nuggets inside, which cannot be consumed by fire, blown away by the wind, or stolen. 

Many people live their lives, never considering any attempt to mine for gold—they believe the gold story is a fable, the work is too hard, don’t know how, don’t want to learn. There are those who believe they can succeed quickly, but fail and walk away disappointed, a few who find a few grains or a gold nugget and walk away, satisfied. 

But a hunger consumes a true treasure hunter, keeping him searching for more, knowing in his heart he will find the mother load--Father load?) of shining promises from his Creator and Savior, who loves and rewards his faithfulness.