A Special Day

        Whether we are or not “church people”, most of us think of Sunday as a special day and try to plan for some way to enjoy the day, whether it’s a picnic in a park, a summer day boating on a lake, or football on TV. Two generations ago, Sunday after church the family went to visit each other or took scenic rides in the countryside, perhaps glorying in the beauty of God's world. And while on a weeknight you might enjoy a game of cards or dominoes, never would you allow yourself to be caught at those games on Sunday.


Even most of us churchgoers, at some point, may attend services partly to uphold family tradition or from habit or to avoid explaining to someone we care about why we weren’t there. And usually we feel a twinge of guilt when we fail to go and resolve on Sunday afternoon to be there next Sunday for sure, unless something comes up. Eventually for some of us, this becomes our habit and we feel less and less guilt. We may show up to worship on special Sundays, like Easter or at Thanksgiving or Christmas, failing to realize every Sunday should be special to us and should be kept Holy in whatever we do that day.


As recently as mid-20th century, there were many restrictions (called Blue Laws) on non- ` emergency sales or purchases in Texas, and some states and many other countries still have some varying degrees of restriction on activities or sales on Sunday for preservation of a day of rest and/or worship for workers and their families. Commonly the work week consisted of five and a half days or even six days a week during the 1950s, so Sundays were the unique, special day for most of us. Then came the five-day week and the 1990s began trending toward a ten hour, four-day work week. Perhaps this skewed our attitude toward Sunday as part of our “personal days”, to do what we wanted.

There’s nothing wrong with boating, picnicking, a late party Saturday night, or football, unless they replace church attendance as our first priority. How to adjust our perception of Sunday? Guilt is a reminder only until we become desensitized. I’ve been thinking about this attitude change I needed, and like everything else God says, He made the answer so simple, if I just look.

Remember how loving you felt at Christmas toward everybody? Remember how gratitude filled your heart at Thanksgiving? Remember how humbly and fervently worshipful you were on Easter Sunday? Every Sunday is an anniversary of the day Jesus rose after paying the terrible sin price for what we all too often think of as our minor sins. In recognition and gratitude, let’s promise to greet every Sunday morning and remembering just how much He loves us.

 Six days you shall labor...but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the Lord your God.

                                                                            Exodus 20: 9-10

Journey of a Traveler

Perhaps I had a dream. Sometimes dreams are vague and short; this one was not. I was cruising along on a wide concrete, multi-lane highway. Distant mountains came into view and diminished as I sped past. Roadway signs clearly marked my route; rest stops and restaurants, signs offering side trips to attractive tourist locations appeared frequently. A pleasant journey overall.

As time passed, the road narrowed to two lanes, then to one and eventually to an unpaved gravel, single lane. Highway signs, rest stops, roadside attractions were now less frequent, the scenery perhaps a little boring, but later I learned there would be thrills and chills further down the road. The bumpy road was uncomfortable at times, but the potholes! I feared for my tires. My vehicle picked up a few rattles as I bounced along this patch of road. I began to look forward to the next fuel stop and the opportunity to check my vehicle's condition and a few minutes to walk off the kinks in my neck and stretch a bit.

The road was poorly marked, but there were few intersections, so chances to become lost were not a problem; however, I began to notice a slight incline. The road stretching ahead was less traveled and gradually wound upward, and the area I was passing through seemed fairly deserted, even lonely. An occasional detour sign slowed me down, but undeterred, I persevered. Most of my fellow-travelers had exited the road but I continued onward, with very few others still on the road. My engine began to overheat as it labored to climb the hill. I had to stop occasionally, open the hood and wait for it to cool down before continuing.

Luckily, I would eventually come to a fuel station along the way, where a mechanic would spot any trouble and repair it and prevent a breakdown. A tune-up aided my car's handling of the elevation without serious problems. As the road wended its way higher, I could see a fork in the road some distance ahead. One appeared to join another wide, paved highway; the other seemed to climb higher still, a barely visible single lane, lonely and even more primitive than I had experienced so far.

I paused at the intersection and read the highway signs: one promised a large city just ahead, with all amenities and entertainment--the other sign announced excellent care for my vehicle, "Repairs, Restoration, Renewal" and "New Cars, Unbelievable Trade-ins".

I pondered this decision, wondering about the two roads ahead. I think of my body as the vehicle; the path toward my destiny offers only two choices. Looking back over my years. I remembered the broad highway when things were easier, more comfortable. I recognize the bumpy road my vehicle is now on and I'm still smarting from some of the potholes I've fallen into. How tempting is the smooth, wide open road? How encouraging is the road promising "repairs, restoration. renewal"?

No contest. The Great Mechanic manufactured this vehicle, my body, and I trust His promise and ability to prepare it (and my spirit) for infinity with Him. I can hardly wait to see His new models!

Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.

Psalm 90:10, 12

Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them.

Psalms 139:16

(I'm at 85 this month, but who's counting?)

Unicorns and Rainbows

                                   UNICORNS AND RAINBOWS        

What comes to mind? Cotton-candy pink clouds, fairies taking flight watching unicorns prancing below, leprechauns burying their pot of gold.  Lovely, isn’t it? Linked together it forms a colorful picture. But is it a fable or truth? 

Unicorns. Do we really believe they exist, or once existed? Many tales handed down through the years say they are real, but there’s no proof. We’re curious, but whether or not unicorns are or ever were real doesn’t affect our lives. Fable or fact, unicorns, UFOs, Sasquatch---probably not worth time and energy we give them. 

On the other hand, rainbows are a visual confirmation of one of God’s promises to us, teaching us how seriously He hates sin, demonstrated when He destroyed the world by flooding and His promise never to repeat this act. Ask Noah. He was there.

Our judgment is required to discern true from false in order to live well. 

The Bible is filled with promises, to teach us about Him, teach us to love Him, to describe the rewards of becoming His child, and the horrors of punishment for those who reject Him. The world offers many fairy tales and fables, disguised as truth. The world is filled with false promises, offering freedom, fun and frivolity that please us today but offer the substance of cotton-candy, sweet for the moment but with no staying power, no nourishment to help us stand after the new wears off the fun we’ve had (leaving us with cavities in our teeth, so to speak) and boredom sends us looking for bigger thrills. 

Satan has a few tricks that usually deceive all of us sometime, and some of us every time. He wraps a lie in a big bundle of truths or almost-truths and, just like our pet dog who won’t accept a pill yet gobbles it down wrapped in cheese or peanut butter, we swallow his whole tale. For us, the outcome won’t be good: the pill we just swallowed wasn’t from the Great Physician.

God is patient, but His rainbow, along with His promise never to use flooding again to purge a sinful people, also warns that He will not delay forever a great cleansing of His creation. Through Jesus’ sacrifice, He offers good times that will last, friends who won’t fail, life filled with love, forever. 

No contest, when you compare with eyes and heart wide open.

Who's Driving?

                                  

A new image just came into my mind—at 84, it’s not too often that happens. Lots of time my mind is running reruns, retreads on new images from times past. Not sure if this idea has wheels or if it will crash and burn, but for better or worse, here ‘tis.

I’m in a car with the motor running, a driverless car, and I’m in the right front seat and figure, why not? I start to slide over to the left, but the seatbelt restrains me. Frustrating, but I can reach the wheel so I reach across and put it in gear and off we/I go!

Seems like other traffic is driving too close for comfort, but I can handle it. I reach up to twist the rear view mirror to a better angle. Seems like I’m too close to the shoulder so ease left, resulting in a blast from an 18-wheeler’s air horn as that driver frantically eased left, causing a car on his left to stand on his brakes with a terrible screech. I guess my viewpoint is skewed, since I’m not really in the driver’s seat.

Entering the drive-thru lane (and it was a little tricky), I reach for my deposit and pull forward, and instantly I’m embarrassed and the teller looks a little confused as I wave apologetically and drive through, park to go inside the bank.

Slowly walking back to my car, I mentally review my performance. 

The car was my life. I was not the designated driver and for many good reasons. My view ahead was imperfect and I was not sure of the route I’d be taking. My name was not on the insurance policy. And I had completely forgotten, my name was not on the title. The title bore the name: Almighty /Creator and God, my Holy Father.

I need to keep that in mind and keep my hands off the steering wheel.

THANKSGIVING

 Dear God, our Holy Father, to whom we owe our very existence and the heart and spirit you planted within us, giving us the ability to return your love, I pray you will put gratitude foremost in our hearts for so many good and wonderful things you give us daily.

In Your provision for our physical and mental well-being, your presence and grace enabling and strengthening us for any and all challenges we meet daily, we learn new things about You and learn to walk, knowing you will catch us when we stumble and set us again onto the path You chose for us. Thank You, Father, for great and small problems in our path, unacknowledged gifts which cause us to look up for help and learn something new. Without these challenges, we tend to believe we can handle life on our own.

This magnificent world, though fallen through human failure, still retains beauty and evidence of ever-diligent watch care over each one of us, revealing Your yearning for our recognition and fellowship with our Creator and Savior.

This Christian nation was given to our forefathers, who prayed and fought for a safe place to live and freely serve You, yet most of us carelessly undervalue this freedom today, believing somehow it is our birthright requiring little from us for its continued existence, and which through continued neglect we are losing to Your enemy, bit by bit, without seeing it is ours only through our relation to our Father in heaven. I thank You for Your continued patience with our apparent disregard of this monumental gift.

I am grateful for my family, given to me as a pale foreshadowing of the parental love from my Holy Father. Imperfect as are even the best relationships on the earth, they give us a glimmer of the perfect loving Parent waiting to welcome us into His eternal family.

Most of all, Father, Thanksgiving is given in honor to King Jesus, who left His throne for a time and lived among us, proving that a perfect life is only possible with God’s presence within and demonstrating perfect, infinite love by substituting His death for the one mankind earned by turning away.

For all these things and more, Lord, make us truly grateful.

CHUTES AND LADDERS

When I was very young, about 20 years old, I remember earnestly praying for God to guide me, to show me His will for my life. The more silent His response, the more fervently I prayed, but alas, the yellow brick road never appeared! I was looking for revelation of where and what I was supposed to be 20 years ahead, so I could hone my skills and somehow reach that plateau God and I had in mind.

As it turned out, I can see flaws in my plan and can see the pattern of my growth as it has occurred and can see the resemblance to the Biblical plans referenced as 40 days or 40 years as they are recorded; the Israelites languishing in the desert 40 years because of fear and rebellion, Moses' flight and lengthy exile far from his ultimate destiny (time God used to refine and prepare him for service), Noah's 40 days in the ark, Jesus's 40 days facing Satan in the desert and His 40 days on earth after resurrection before returning to His throne in Heaven.

Like an infant who depends on others to feed him until he matures and becomes able to take responsibility for his own future, a young Christian may live from Sunday to Sunday, fed by his Pastor. Some, like me, linger in this state, growing very slowly, for years, before actively searching spiritual meat for themselves, before hearing God speak clearly to their spirit.

It seems God’s plan is to teach us one truth daily, one command or instruction, instead of over-whelming us with knowledge of the rocky road ahead. (Think: If Jesus had foretold His apostles the horrible deaths waiting ahead, who would follow?) Once we obey that instruction, He will give us another—a ladder we climb one step at a time. However, until we obey what He has told us, He will remain silent. But we don’t remain poised on that level, we slide backward, like the game Chutes and Ladders—but there is a penalty in sliding back: loss of fellowship and guidance from our Father while we stumble in the dark.

Though I was saved and baptized by the age of 8, I now see I was developing very slowly, maintaining week to week on sermons I heard, coasting the rest of the week, until I attended a life-changing revival at age 40. Suddenly I was ravenous for God’s written word and listening for His voice in my heart. I felt complete, filled with new knowledge, strong faith and confidence, fearless for my future, though this was a time of great turmoil, losing my mother, soon after losing my marriage, with 2 daughters nearing adulthood. I stopped worrying, gave worry to God, where it belonged.

I was happy now and complacent, living at this new level for about another 40 years—until age and health began to limit my life to a smaller existence, a time of reminiscence and awareness of missed opportunities no longer available and a sense of urgency for those few souls still in my part of the world to know our Savior. He has given me a new hunger and boldness, a passion, to share things He has taught me, even to deaf ears. My job now to speak; His to open ears and hearts.

Come soon, Lord!

             But they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount
             up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and
             not faint.                                  Isaiah 40:31


             Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall 
             be filled.                                   Matthew 5:6    

I pray when I leave this world, I can kneel at His throne and say:

            I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
                                                                  2 Timothy 4:7

















                                 

     

Here We Go Again

Have you ever found yourself facing a problem, one you thought you had resolved before, and you find yourself stumbling toward the answers you thought you had locked in? That’s where I am today. It’s just like Windows 8 all over again. I came so close to giving up.

See, I know me. Just as my feet no longer dance through their day, my brain, though still there (praise the Lord), no longer absorbs great lumps of facts in a sprint—I have to settle into a marathon or sit in my recliner in front of the TV and grow moss on my brain.

Once again I have taken the challenge to venture further into this new millennium. I traded my cute little flip phone for the smart-alec phone. At least, that’s what I call it now. Someday it will mean more to me or so I tell myself.

After the first week, I’m familiar with the alarm clock and can make a call. Sandy waves her hands across its screen and many wondrous things flash by my eyes, then disappear once she hands it back to me.

Remembering my love/hate relationship with Windows 8, I recall how I survived and realized here we go again! Take notes this time, Doris—the subject is bound to arise again; you’re not going away any time soon, so get with the program: start small, exercise a little every day instead of cramming for the exam—that doesn’t work any more, build those powerful muscles behind your eyes little by little, day by day, and never quit, never give up. And this new phone will give you a few of its secrets as you go!

I may be slow, but this time I think I’ve got it.

Just like the daily walk—not sprint—with God. In this life you can never learn all the wonderful promises in His Holy Bible, never perfectly follow His path. No one can, so don’t give up. Just keep practicing using those verses you learn along the way to keep you on His path without letting doubts discourage you and steal you away. You'll get there.