Where is the leftover turkey? He is sitting on the couch!
That’s me! No Black Friday shopping. No weekend chores. No nothing! Just a big stuffed leftover turkey sitting on the couch sleeping through a TV football game.
Most of us have some Thanksgiving traditions. Some traditions have to be altered through the years. I now realize what my mom wrote about years ago as she shared her Thanksgiving prayer with her family.
“Lord, we know You prepare different tables with different circumstances each day and each year. But at every table, let my cup overflow.”
The rest of this session was written five years ago by my precious daughter, Kala. It closes with my mom’s Thanksgiving prayer. Listen to her wordsas you reflect on your Thanksgiving blessings.
Eighteen years ago, my mom got a phone call I will never forget: my Granny Bea had passed away during what was supposed to be a routine heart procedure. I will never forget hearing my mom’s side of that conversation.
My heart shattered into a zillion pieces as one of my favorite persons left this earth. My heart has broken every February 25th since. I constantly wonder what she would think about my professor husband or my four kiddos.
I know she’d have lots to say about our current political state, and I’m sad that I didn’t care enough to join in one of those conversations when I was younger. I know she’d be excited about all of her grandchildren’s pursuits and be thrilled for every single one of us, even if we are scattered across the miles.
Gosh, I miss her. And oh, how I wish for more time, more memories, more Thanksgivings and Christmases in Spiro.
The thing is, though, I have been immensely blessed by all of my grandparents. Papa remarried Helen, who became a light in the Blankenship family. And then you have my precious Grandmother Clara Logan, GiGi to my kiddos.
Grandma is the epitome of perseverance during the most difficult times. She became a widow in her twenties, when she had five kids under the age of 6. When I begin to think my life is hard, I’m reminded of GiGi. She has shown me what it means to be faithful and to love big even when it is most hard.
I am so grateful for all of the memories I have with all three of my grandmothers, and I’m particularly thankful that I still have the opportunity to get hugs from Grandma Clara. I’m grateful my kiddos have been able to experience the joy of time with her, baking cookies and singing and having fun. I’m thankful for every single moment.
When I was in Spiro for Granny’s funeral, I stumbled across something she had written many Thanksgivings before. I read it every Thanksgiving now, but I find it applicable to everyday life:
Psalm 95:2 “Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving.” Psalm 23: 5 “Thou preparest a table before me…my cup overflows.”
These are Granny B’s words:
When I think of my own upbringing – the Thanksgiving as a child when that was one of the three or four days a year that Dad took off from his job as a company man for Peabody Coal Company – I’m reminded of the excitement of the day as we drove toward Grandpa’s house in Hartford, Arkansas.
We always passed people gathered around scalding pots or craping hogs. As a child, I couldn’t understand why this day –a holiday – was hog-killing day. We killed hogs on other days. This was the day to go to Gramps.
I’m reminded of the love and care lavished on me in my youth, the kind of home I was born into, the community in which I was reared, my Church, Sunday School and singing, the gracious influences I encountered, the examples that were held up before me, the fences that were passed, set to keep me from “wandering away.”
I must indeed feel such gratitude for the memory of my parents, my teachers, my friends, those who wrote the books I’ve been privileged to read through the years, and my husband of 46 years this week. Yet I know that they themselves had it all from Christ. Nothing would have been there if Christ had not come to seek and to save that which was lost.
So, as I crawl out of bed on Thanksgiving morning, I’ll not feel sad that my Holiday tradition has been changed many times since those early years.
In later years, we all went home to Mom and Dad’s. Then, my husband Gerald and my brother Sherman started having football teams good enough to get into the play-offs and they’d often be playing on Thanksgiving – plans stayed in the air. Now, my son Bill is coaching and going through that routine.
So early Thanksgiving morning, I hope to peer out the kitchen window and see that pinkish-orange glow grow brighter and slowly fill the kitchen. A whole new light will be cast on that day.
I’ll repeat, “Thou prepares a table before me. My cup overflows.”
Surely this is God’s message in the gift of a brilliant sunrise that we must not sleep through. Many unexpected blessings are waiting to be discovered around our tables on this day. Let us be thankful for those who helped us get where we are, for those who are with us now, and for those who are waiting for us where we are going.
LORD, WE KNOW YOU PREPARE DIFFERENT TABLES WITH DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES EACH DAY AND EACH YEAR. BUT AT EVERY TABLE, LET MY CUP OVERFLOW.
I pray the same thing tonightfor my family and yours. May our cups overflow with thanksgiving.
College football has its storied rivalries. Only one is known as “The Game.”
It is not the OU-Texas Red River Classic. It is not OU-OSU Bedlam. Not Bama vs. Auburn in the Iron Bowl or LSU at Death Valley. Not Michigan-Ohio State. Not USC-UCLA. It is not even Notre Dame vs. The Sisters of Stoney Brook.
The longest running big time rivalry is Harvard-Yale. One writer declared the game to be “a clash of civilizations that seemed no less than that of Athens and Sparta.”
In New England, it is simply called THE GAME. And I was on the sidelines for the greatest game in THE GAME history. The next year I would be the starting sophomore quarterback for Harvard playing before a crowd in excess of 70,000. But for this game, I manned the headsets and waved the towel.
Before the ESPN days, Harvard and Yale won 25 national football championships. This would be the last of their nationally important games. It was a sad and memorable year. Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., had been assassinated. The Viet Nam War involved many brave young men and their counter protesters.
The two teams were mirror images, both undefeated. The Yale Bulldogs were nationally ranked in the AP poll. They were an offensive juggernaut with three future NFL draftees including Calvin Hill, a future star running back for the Dallas Cowboys. He would also become the father of Duke and NBA player and TV announcer, Grant Hill.
To give you an idea of how good Calvin Hill was—the year after graduation he won the NFL’s rookie of the year award over O.J. Simpson (before the Juice cut loose and ran a wheel off.) Quarterback Brian Dowling had not lost a game since junior high. The perpetually helmeted “B.D.” was the inspiration for Garry Trudeau’s famous counterculture cartoon strip, Doonesbury, the first to win a Pulitzer Prize.
First comic strip of Doonesbury
The Harvard defense was tops in the country. The team had only one future (movie) star, Tommy Lee Jones (roommate of future VP Al Gore). Tommy Lee Jones wore Harvard Crimson before having a small part in Love Story and later starring in Men in Black. Also attending THE GAME were Yale students, future President George W. Bush and future Oscar winner Meryl Streep.
Harvard stadium held 57,750, and tickets to the game were going for hundreds of dollars. (This was before the Internet and StubHub.) It became one of the weirdest and most memorable gridiron games ever. It was almost stranger than fiction.
The game quickly turned in Yale’s favor as they dominated the entire contest. The Yale quarterback threw to Hill for a second TD. That was followed by another scoring pass. The second quarter was not half over and Yale had scored 22 points. Harvard did manage to score before halftime, but the mighty Yale team marched into the locker rooms ahead 22-6.The Harvard defense blocked a punt in the third quarter to make the score closer.
Was there hope? No. At the beginning of the fourth quarter, Yale punched Harvard in the mouth as they marched down the field and stuffed the ball into the end zone. 29-13.
Looking across the stadium, I saw hundreds if not thousands of white handkerchiefs waving as the poor-sport Yale students taunted us. They were arrogant and foaming at the mouth for humiliation.
Their chants pierced the air. “We’re Number One! You’re Number Two!” I remember hearing the Yale band playing the “Mickey Mouse Club” theme song. The wild celebration continued as Yale went on another drive late in the game. Only 14 yards away from a fifth touchdown, the Yale fullback fumbled.
Harvard was down by 16 points with 42 seconds remaining in the game. Harvard’s backup quarterback, Frank Champi, took over. With a third and 18 on the Yale 38, he was sacked, but the ball dribbled out of his arms on the way down and a Harvard lineman picked up the pigskin and rumbled to the Yale 15. (It is strange how legends are made.) With another chance, Champi passed for a touchdown, but the two-point conversion failed.
So now Harvard would lose with less humiliation. But wait—a flag. Yale was called for phantom pass interference. The Harvard fullback rushed in for the extra points. 29-21.
Everyone in the stadium knew that an onside kick was coming, but that did not stop Harvard from recovering it. No one was leaving the stadium. Some scrambled to get back in, and the white handkerchiefs had disappeared.
Harvard quickly marched down inside the 10-yard line. Actually, the QB ran for his life going backwards, but a face mask penalty put Harvard on the 20 and the next play via a completed tipped pass advanced the ball to the 8- yard line.
Three seconds were left on the clock. There was time for one final play which started badly. Flushed from the pocket by the heavy rush, QB Champi scrambled for his life. As he was hit, he threw a desperation pass off the wrong foot, which was caught by the running back for a touchdown.
There was no time left. Harvard fans stormed the field which was a little ironic since the score was 29-27 in Yale’s favor. (So much for being Ivy League smart in math!)
As the officials cleared the field, the Harvard student section was waving white things (handkerchiefs, towels, underwear) and chanting, “We’re Number One! You ain’t Nothing!” The repetitive slogan engulfed the stadium.“We’re Number One! You ain’t Nothing!” (Apparently, correct grammar was also deemed to be unnecessary in the Ivy League.)
The field was cleared by security. The two-point conversion attempt would take place with no time on the clock. This was before the college overtime rule. (Apparently, something better than “kissing your sister” had not been thought of as an Ivy League option. “The Game” would change everything regarding overtime rules.)
For this momentous gridiron contest, the only options were a tie or a loss. The Harvard quarterback hit the big receiver on a slant route. He held the ball in the air with both hands. Game over.
No one was mistaken about who won the “tie game.” The Yalies grabbed their Bulldog and exited to the locker room with bowed heads. The Yale student body cried into their handkerchiefs as they booed and cursed. The Harvard players jumped up and down in jubilation. The Crimson team and the entire student body raced onto the stadium turf and celebrated the winlong into the night.
Harvard had scored 16 points in 42 seconds. I don’t remember a whole lot after that. We all stormed the field. It was all a happy blur. But I do remember it better than anything I learned in the classroom through all my college years. (The university president shook my hand at graduation. He offered a word of commendation. He did not mention my GPA. Apparently, there are times that the Ivy League has higher interests than higher education.)
It was the banner headline across the next day’s front page that best captured what we had witnessed: “Harvard Beats Yale 29-29.”
What can we learn from a long-forgotten football game that is meaningless in the big scheme of things?
NEVER QUIT. Keep trying no matter what the odds. NEVER GIVE UP. NEVER.
That goes for loving God and loving others even more so than in an athletic contest. Loving first and most is hard. Sometimes, it is a struggle against overwhelming odds.
But love wins! Always! There is no relationship that is hopeless. There is no enemy that is undeserving. There is no obstacle too wide or too long or too high or too low. There is no circumstance where it is not worth the effort.
Thomas Jefferson and the Founding Fathers wrote in our country’s Declaration of Independence about our God-given rights “to Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”
That made me think about God’s promise of happiness to Adam and Eve and their pursuit of that happiness. The promise and pursuit are very similar to our situations. There is fullness of joy in God’s presence (#1 Textbook). More to come on that, but first…
I am a weird duck. My mind just went AWOL. I can only hope the insanity is temporary.A quick glance into my mind maze will show why it is so difficult for a good thought to find its way out into the real world.
While thinking about happiness, my brainwaves detoured to happy songs. This is very random and probably out of place, but I thought of a tune I have not heard in years.
My mind connected the pursuit of happiness to the old classic Coke commercial revived from the early seventies: I Would Like to Teach the World to Sing in Perfect Harmony.
I’d like to teach the world to sing, In perfect harmony, I’d like to hold it in my arms And keep it company
I’d like to see the world for once All standing hand in hand And hear them echo through the hills For peace throughout the land
I’d like to teach the world to sing In perfect harmony
I’d like to build the world a home And furnish it with love
Wow! What a strange blast from the past! I thought it was a bad commercial then, but it still creates images of happy times.
Then my thoughts went to my personal favorite feel-good music, Dancing in the Moonlight. My mind must be stuck in the music vault.
Everybody is dancin’ in the moonlight Everybody’s feelin’ warm and right It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancin’ in the moonlight
That song always makes me smile. Always.
The song might not get any reaction from you, but don’t you want to smile just a little to think that this Winsday writer guy who is no good at dancing has a favorite tune titled Dancing in the Moonlight?
Feel free to feel good by fast-forwarding this track or skipping down a few paragraphs in this post or, better yet, inserting your own favorite choices. I will not be insulted.For the younger crowd (I think that is all of you), go to your own generational genre. But you really need to Google some of these songs to know what happy sounds like.
I declare these next few minutes a free, no worry, no anxiety, pursuit of happiness feel-good zone. I realize my references are from an unknown time for most of you.Turn on the music in your head’s jukebox. Go to your mind’s iPhone playlist.
What comes to your mind? Put it up against Pharrell Williams singing Happy. The Black Eye Peas singing I Got a Feeling registers some happy vibes. Maybe Walking on Sunshine by Katrina or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye sparks a smile.
I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston or September by Earth, Wind, and Fire might get your mind distracted by happier thoughts. Top of the World has the sweet voice of Karen Carpenter.
Somethin’ in the wind has learned my name And it’s tellin’ me that things are not the same In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the breeze There’s a pleasin’ sense of happiness for me
I’m on the top of the world lookin’ down on creation And the only explanation I can find Is the love that I’ve found ever since you’ve been around Your love’s put me at the top of the world
You might be into Zip-A-Dee-Do-Dah, or You Are My Sunshine. Maybe I’ve Got Rhythm, Check Yes or No can help you Follow the YellowBrick Road to some happy thoughts. Whether you swing with the 30’s, disco with the 70’s, line dance with the 90’s, or do some hip-hop krumping through this millennium, I recommend you divert your attention to some music that puts a smile on your face and revives a cherished memory in your heart.
While you recover, I will just shuffle on down to Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher and Higher. I especially like the version by Rita Coolidgewith me doing the backup vocals.
Your Love, Liftin’ Me Higher Than I’ve Ever Been Lifted Before So Keep It Up, Quench My Desire And I’ll Be At Your Side Forevermore You Know Your Love (Your Love Keeps Liftin’ Me) Keeps On Liftin’ (Your Love Keeps Liftin’ Me) Higher (Liftin’ Me, Liftin’ Me), Higher, And Higher (Higher)
That is a feel-good song that takes your love to a higher level!And now you know that my secret obsession is to be a backup singer. My wife insisted I turn down Motown when they asked me to join the Four Tops.She did not think the world was ready for my rhythmic shockwave.
Take a moment to turn on the music in your mind. Indulge in an enjoyable recollection of past songs. The sound of a familiar melody might put you back on the trail in pursuit of happiness.
Speaking of nostalgic happiness, it started with Adam and Eve. The happy God created us to join Him where joy is eternal, pleasures are evermore, and the enjoyment of goodness will continuously increase through all the coming endless ages.
God started Adam and Eve right in the middle of God-centered happiness. They enjoyed:
Perfect People
Perfect Place
Perfect Pleasure
Perfect Provision
Perfect Promise
They were the only persons who have ever had a perfect spouse. No deficiencies. No irritations. No idiosyncrasies. No forgetfulness. No selfishness. No problems.
They were the only couple who ever lived in the “perfect” place. There home was in Paradise. Nothing to improve. Nothing to change. Nothing to repair. Nothing to compare.
They experienced perfect pleasure. Their happiness never diminished. Never disappointed. Never died. Never needed augmentation.
Their provision was perfect. Everything they needed, Whatever they needed. Whenever they needed.
They also had the perfect promise that none of this life experience of happiness will ever end. It will only increase. Exponentially. Forever.
They had the perfect promise of Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. Eternal Life. Everlasting Liberty. Endless Happiness.God would be their fullness of joy independent of their circumstances.
What happened?
They became unhappy in their pursuit of happiness.They led all of us down the wrong path.
How?
The only perfect people who ever lived in a perfect world imagined they were NOT HAPPY.They created another world in their minds where they were NOT HAPPY.
I have mentioned this before. I call it living in the Imaginary World of Not. Adam and Eve lived in a world where they were increasingly and endlessly happy. Yet, they imagined that they could be happier in the forbidden world of NOT. They used the God-given gift of imagination to create a world that did not exist.
They imagined a world where they were NOT HAPPY. They imagined a world where God was limiting their happiness by His presence and promise. They imagined a world in which they were responsible for their happiness.
They imagined someone else, something else, or somewhere else would make them happier.
They lost that lovin’ feelin’ and happiness was gone, gone, gone, woah.
The Imaginary World of Not.You have visited there.
I am NOT happy. I am NOT in total control. I am NOT appreciated as much as I should be. I do NOT feel loved.I am NOT being treated right.I am NOT getting what is fair.
We imagine there might be a better Life. Maybe there is More Liberty. What if the pursuit of happiness leads down a different path?
What if there is something or someone better than Perfect? What if we left God out and did not live by God’s “perfect” plan? Maybe we could have happiness without God.
Adam and Eve took their thoughts from their Imaginary World of Not and led all their descendants into a free-fall from perfection. We know nothing of a perfect spouse or perfect home or perfect work or perfect happiness or perfect peace or even a perfect hope of better than what we have.
We just fight for our rights to pursue happiness. To pursue happiness down a path where happiness does not exist. Down the path marked, I AM NOT HAPPY.
That is where we live. That is why we are so miserable at being happy.
Turn on the music. Take a sad song and make it better.Na-na-na-naa, hey, Jude!
What about us?
We do have a perfect person living with us. His name is Jesus. Anywhere with Him is a perfect place to be at the time. The pursuit of happiness with Him as our guide will lead us to our home in a perfect place where there is no sadness, no tears, no loss, no separation, no death. Just everlasting happiness and the pursuit of even greater happiness than the present overflowing satisfaction.
We also have perfect provision. God already gave us His son, Jesus. Surely, He will give us everything else that is good. Everything we need at just the perfect time we need it.
Then there is the perfect promise that everything in this life works out for our greatest good. In the next life, it will take God forever to show us how happy we can be. Countless ages of immeasurable happiness in ever-increasing quality and capacity of enjoyment.
Until then, you can be happier in your pursuit of happiness now. Do not listen to the thoughts running around your mind which originate in the imaginary world of not. Do not focus your thoughts on all the things that are not right or perfect in your world.Do NOT eat of that fruit.
Find your happiness in God.
“The deepest and most enduring happiness is found only in God. Not from God, but in God” (John Piper). Happiness in God reaches its consummation when we love God and others first and most.
Jesus will show you how to live with imperfect people with a sense of happiness. He lives inside of you to lead you to others he intends to love first and most through you.
Love God and love others first and most. That is the perfect path for the pursuit of happiness.
Oh, smile a little smile for me…even if your name is not Rosemarie.
I have declared this a day of no worry and no anxiety. No dark clouds to fret and no bad times to regret. Pursue some happiness. If you cannot make it a whole day, then take a few hours of freedom from stressful things. At least, use up a few minutes in happy thoughts.
Give yourself a break today. You do not have to go to McDonalds or share a Coke.
The perfect pursuit of happiness is a choice. A choice to trust God’s perfect plan and perfect process. A choice to ignore thinking about the imaginary world of NOT. Take a break from your woes and your foes who seek to steal your happiness.
Follow the advice of Dr. Leo Marvin, the exasperated psychiatrist in the movie, What About Bob? He told his phobic patient Bob Wiley, portrayed by Bill Murray, to “take a vacation from your problems…It starts with ‘baby steps.'”
Take a vacation day from the imaginary world of NOT.Stop thinking about all the people, places, things, and reasons you are NOT happy. They all live in your imaginary world of “I’m NOT happy because..
Pursue happiness today.Start where you are. If you are near God, then you are already in the happy zone. Read the sign which points to the pursuit of greater happiness: Love others. Love them first and most.
With God’s perfect help, you can be happy with whomever, wherever, whenever, and for however long. None of them have to be perfect for you to be happy.
That’s right. The people, places, and plans in your life do NOT have to be perfect for you to be happy.
Go for a smile. That is the goal for today.Keep smilin’.
Join me in the pursuit of happiness with an attitude of gratitude with which we remind ourselves every day to count our blessings.
I’m counting my blessings and I am in pursuit of the Real Thing.
I’d like to teach the world to sing, In perfect harmony,
I’d like to build the world a home And furnish it with love
(I borrowed this Winsday intro idea from my pastor, Tim Gibson.)
We have a young Boxer dog named Jada. She has worked her way into my heart only because she falls into the Love first and Love most challenge group. This hyper canine has maxed out my tolerance scale.
She has one quality fairly common with most dogs. Anxiety! She becomes highly anxious about sounds, silence, visitors, and solitary confinement. She has exceptional hearing. Every noise makes her jump. She paces in fear. She whines with every need which is a good way of communication. But she also whines just to annoy me.
Jada is depressed when we leave her alone. She becomes full of anxiety just watching us prepare to leave. Her life is best when everything stays the same.
We humans are very similar. We are more comfortable with the routine. We can become anxious at the drop of a pin. We fear the unknown and the unexpected. The possibility of anything that changes our sense of “normal” fuels our fears.
We imagine the worse. It robs us of peace. We exchange the pleasant moment to buy shares in future fears. Most fears never come to fruition. They dissipate faster than stock market gains.
Unexpected news or anticipated fears can cause us to pace through the day and lose sleep through the night. We jettison joy. We forfeit peace.
We feel anxious! Anxiety is the mind and body’s reaction to stressful, dangerous, or unfamiliar situations. It arrives with a sense of uneasiness, distress, or dread you feel before a significant event which may or may not happen.
I am sure you are aware of how anxiety feels without this description.
The siren sounds. The clock is ticking. The kids are crying. The relatives are coming. The stove is smoking. The crowd is bigger. The clouds are darker. The bank account is empty. The medical report is pending. The choices are confusing. The deadline is looming. The spouse is waiting.
And all that happens while you try to decide what to order from the restaurant menu.
Most life events cause pressure.
You feel nervous. Your heart races. You hyperventilate. A full panic attack leaves you numb, unable to concentrate, paralyzed in thoughts and actions.
What causes anxiety? Anything! Everything!
Changing circumstances. Health issues. Loved ones. Unloved ones. Possibilities. Impossibilities. We all get anxious. Maybe through different causes or for different amounts of time, but we all battle anxiety.
That is why the #1 Textbook encourages us not to be anxious. Do not be anxious about anything…God has given you peace for every situation and every future event. Do not be afraid.
Why? We have hope. Hope: the confident certainty that we will experience all the goodness and joy God has promised…somehow…someway…sometime. Guaranteed.
Why do we have hope? We have a God who loves us. We have a God who controls all events for our ultimate good. We have a God who cannot lie. We have a God who encourages us to cast our anxiety on Him, and He will take care of us.
“For we are all dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending” (Herman Melville, Moby-Dick).Does that describe how you feel?
The great heroes of faith in the #1 Textbook battled anxiety. The future frightened them. They were flawed and broken. They fell and failed. They paced and lost peace. They became weak and depressed. They were restless and sleepless.
Somehow, they found hope. That same hope is available to each of us. We remember them because they faced their anxiety and fears with faith, hope, and love.
In order to learn how to avoid anxiety, we must first know the feeling of anxiety and identify what brought it on. It can paralyze us if we do not move past it. Hope can push us past our anxious thoughts into the realm of peace.
Learn to preach to yourself the truth about God and your circumstances. We spend too much time listening to ourselves thinking anxious thoughts. Worry and anxiety do nothing to help. They find their origin in “uncertainty.” They do not change any of our circumstances or our life’s quality or its longevity.
Anxiety is not sinful; it is natural, just like fear and worry. Uncertainty is connected to distrust of God. The antidote is faith in God. God loves you and controls all things for your ultimate good. Strengthening your faith is part of His plan.
“Lift up your eyes to the mountains. You will see your help on the horizon. Your help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. He still controls everything in it” (#1 Textbook).
Trust in God is the best way to cope with anxiety. TRUST IS A LEARNED HABIT.
“God plans everything for your good” (#1 Textbook). We prefer the routine. However, change is part of God’s plan.
Anxiety does not go away because someone suggests that you stop being anxious. But you can learn how to better deal with it. For example, it still gets dark. That never changes. But you learn how to turn on a light. In the same way, you can learn how to turn on the light of faith which dispels anxiety.
What can you do to learn to preach to yourself about the antidote to anxiety?
Read the #1 Textbook and observe how the examples of faith struggled with anxiety and overcame fear and anxiety through trust in God.
Watch the birds. I was recently reminded to trust in God by a sparrow on my fence. Last week, I drove down the street and observed thousands and thousands of blackbirds sitting on the overhead wires. Not one of them was worried about the future. Who takes care of them all? The same God who says that you are more valuable than all of those birds.
Do some stargazing. There are more stars in the universe than all the grains of sand on earthly beaches. More than all the words ever spoken by man or woman since the time of Adam and Eve until the latest newborn. God knows every star by name. The God who created, controls, and names every star loves you. That is an awesome thought! You are of more value than all the galaxies in this universe.
Routine can be comfortable. Change is real and will interrupt your routine. Most of the unknown and unexpected will never happen. But that does not stop us from battling anxiety.
Give yourself a break from anxiety today. Trust God. He knows and controls what is about to happen. God loves you. God is with you and for you. That is a certainty.
I encourage you to throw your anxiety into the wastebasket. Let the city crew take your anxiety trash to the dump. You really do not have to pick up the anxiety litter.
Go look at the #1 Textbook. Look at the birds. Look at the stars and tell yourself that everything is going to turn out OK. I did not say that. God did!
I recall an incident from my pre-parental days. I was sitting in my car eating lunch and catching up on some study in the McDonalds’ parking lot. My reading was interrupted by loud arguments from a family exiting the fast-food restaurant. The mother and father were screaming at their crying little four-year-old girl. I discreetly rolled down my window so I could hear better.
The precious little girl definitely did not enjoy her Ronald McDonald playtime. Both parents were using strong language to scold her recent actions and attitude. Threats were made about future discipline. I tried not to look as if I were eavesdropping with my head leaning out the window.
Their family car was parked right next to mine. The mother opened the back door of the car and yelled for the little girl to never act like that again or she would never have another Happy Meal. Then the mom ordered the sobbing daughter to get into the car. Both parents slammed their car doors as they took their places in the front seats.
I felt so sorry for this little, sniffling, teary-eyed, beautiful girl. Her parents were so mean. How could any parent be so impatient or cruel? She needed someone to care about her and her plight. I thought she had the worst parents in the world.
This girl needed some encouragement. The entire world was not against her. This was an opportunity to love first and most. So, I leaned out the window and smiled at her.“It’s going to be ok.”
She looked up, stomped her feet, and stuck her tongue out at me with the sound of a Bronx cheer. “NYAAH.”
Her defiant tone was not cute; she was rude.
I immediately thanked the Lord for the wise parents of this little brat.
Parenting is not an easy no-mistakes endeavor. It also is not free from advice. Some parenting advice is helpful. Most is unsolicited. You will get advice from parents, in-laws, grandparents, siblings, relatives, friends, church members, and people who do not know you.
Child psychologists and talk shows cover the subject.Family conferences, parenting workshops, books, and magazines offer parenting insights. I am not sure any of that really matters.
It seems as if everyone else knows exactly what and how to raise your child. The advice ranges from encouragement to condescension. Applause to condemnation. Helpful to humiliating. Well-meaning to hidden meaning.
Most parental advice makes you feel like a sad and bad person.Really sad and really bad.
I appreciate the lady who offered her unsolicited “candy” suggestion. for the birthday pinata. Why did she feel that was necessary? Did she really think I was going to fill the piñata with broccoli bites?
Almost every parent tries to do his/her best. Certainly, the ones who might read this article. We all want the best for our kids. We make mistakes in our methods and manners, but not mistakes of the heart.
We tend to be judgmental of other parents and very blind to what might be in store for us. We do not know what the other parents are dealing with. We need to toss our presuppositions and misunderstandings in the wastebasket.Let’s also ditch our unwelcomed advice.
Before we were blessed with children, my wife and I went out to eat with a young couple and their young children. We were embarrassed for them as the toddler ran screaming around the restaurant. He ignored their commands and pleas. Even bribes did not corral the chaos.
We were shocked when the one-year-old started eating everything with his hands. His mouth and face were covered in mashed potatoes and gravy. So was his hair.
The parents seemed oblivious. The highchair tray had food floating around before it was scattered on the floor.
We left there vowing that our kids would never be like that.
Sometimes, you get to eat your words. The egg on your face is just as messy. Eventually, it becomes funny when your grandkids do those things you frowned on. You even take pictures of the cute darling and post them on Facebook.
Why do kids act like little saints in the church classroom and then change teams on the ride home? Or why do they play together at the house, but fight like bitter enemies as soon as company arrives? I have no idea. I have only heard of such things. (Where is that sarcasm font?)
Let’s face it. No parent really has any idea what they are about to get into. Not at birth or in the nursery days. Not in the terrible two’s or the frightening teens. I once foolishly thought that when your children grow up and leave the house that your worries would decrease. I was clueless and mistaken!
Every child is different. Every parent is naïve. You just keep hoping that you will do better on the next one. Until you find that the next ones were divinely designed to be more challenging. Oh, the immeasurable wisdom of God! He knows exactly what we need to learn how to really love.
I knew I loved my wife…until that first moment that my newborn daughter wrapped her hand around my little finger. That is when I experienced a love willing to die for another person’s welfare. That is when I learned to love my wife better and take my love for her to a higher level. That is when I signed up for a journey to love first and love most.
You have a story. Some of it is still being written. God always writes the last chapter, and it will be wonderful.
Give yourself some grace. We are not perfect. We learn and grow. We would like to do some things over and better. That does not make you a terrible parent. It defines you as a real person.
There is no such thing as a non-dysfunctional family. Do not judge your parenting skills by someone else’s social posts and pictures. Do not condemn your efforts based on some current challenge in your son or daughter’s life.
Learn to love first and love most. Pray and work to get better at understanding how to do that. The #1 Textbook has it covered.
Love your kids (whatever their age) in the same way that Jesus loves you. When you mess up, you are forgiven. When you fall down, you are lifted up. When you feel discouraged, you are praised. When you fail, you are taught.
God gave you that child or children. God knew exactly where you would be strong and where you would be weak. Where you would shine and where you would mess up. God knows exactly what you and your children need to step into a higher plane of love.
Do what you think is best. Your children grow up way too fast. You will have to learn how to install a car seat and erect a swing set. You will need a truck load of batteries and an even bigger supply of patience. You will watch Frozen or something like it for thirty-five days in a row. You will answer questions and shout instructions until your voice retires for the night.
About the time you learn how to change a diaper and burp an upset stomach, you are chasing a wild screaming toddler around the room. It will feel like a blender on full speed with the top off. Before you can make a couple of laps through the cluttered house, you are carpooling to school and racking your brain through homework that you vowed never to do again. Once the routine sets in, it is disrupted by school activities which lead to more friends and longer texts and fewer talks.
You figure out a plan that works for the whole family, but there are not enough days on the calendar. Then the calendar keeps changing years every time you check it. Before you blink twice, the kids are headed off to college or work or a new family. Time moves too fast to analyze and improve your parenting skills.
You just adapt and get better. You do the best you can at the time. Wisdom comes later. Maybe, that is why so many insist on interjecting their opinions into your situation. They wish they had a do-over.
All of us wish for that. Not just to erase mistakes, but to cherish the moments of joy and love. You are left with memories and pictures and notes. Maybe a text. I suggest one technique I borrowed from the sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond.
It’s called editing. Edit out the bad moments. Do not dwell on the mistakes. Focus on the good memories. I am pretty sure the idea comes from the #1 Textbook. “Love covers a multitude of mistakes.”
God loves you. The mistakes are covered. The messes have been forgiven.Cherish the good moments.
Yes, if I could do it again, I would do it all better. More importantly, I would do it all with more joy. However, the past is gone, and the present is fleeting by too fast. We need to make today count.
Hug your kids, whatever their ages. Brag on them. If you are physically separated from them, text or call. Above all, pray for them. They need your prayers more than your parenting advice.
You invested in their lives. Trust God to produce good dividends. Hope that they will take your love to an even higher level with your grandkids. It’s the cycle of life.
I offer no advice and certainly share no criticism. I know you have done and are doing and will do the best you can. I applaud you and cheer you on.
Look to the One who loves you first and most. Imitate God, as beloved children. And walk in love just as Christ loved us” (#1 Textbook).
I love you. I love my wife who has done far better than she gives herself credit. I love my children and grandchildren. I’m still trying to do the best I can and with God’s help, I will do better.
I wish the same for you.
If you wish to correct me on something in this post or desire to enlighten me on a better way, then “NYAAH!”
That’s right! Mary, Martha, and Silas! Two sisters and a beloved brother, just like the siblings in the Bible.
They were older and lived in the same house. None had married. They were godly and loving.
I met them when I went into the youth ministry at Sand Springs. They attended every church function. They were as kind as anyone could be. One could not help thinking about the Mary, Martha, and Lazarus in the gospel story who were so loved by Jesus.
The Biblical trio served, cooked, and soaked up the teachings of Jesus. They loved Him and their story has impacted countless multitudes.
The modern-day siblings had the same kind of heart. Their impact on my life was substantial. I was the new kid on the church staff.I had much to learn.
Mary and Martha were just what one might imagine of their Biblical counterparts. The two older sisters took care of Silas. Silas appeared much different than my images of the resurrected Lazarus, but now I think Lazarus might have been just like Silas.
Silas had some disabilities. He struggled to speak, stuttering with a lisp. He always had a smile and handshake for everyone. The pastor told me that Silas was like a fourth grader in his development. He needed the constant care of his sisters.
Yes, Silas had some visual and audio disabilities, but he had no disability of the heart.
Silas became ill and was confined in the hospital. I am sure the sisters sent for Jesus and their prayers were answered. In the meantime, the pastor sent me. I made a couple of hospital visits during Silas’ time at the hospital.
Mary and Martha were always there. Mary would be reading her Bible or praying or singing. Martha would be up serving some need. If it was not doing something for Silas, then she would help the nurse or offer assistance to the doctor.
Several weeks later, they all returned to church. As we met in the hallway, I paused to welcome them back. Each one greeted me with a hug. As they headed into their Bible study class, Silas grabbed my arm. He had something he wanted to say.
“B-B-Brudder Rex, you…you…you tame to…to see…see me. You tame to…to see me at…at…da…da h-pital. You…you payed…you payed for me. T…T…Tank you…Tank you.”
“That’s right, Silas. Glad you are feeling better.”
Silas held onto my hand with both of his hands. His eyes glistened. His lips trembled.
“B-B-Brudder Brudder Rex, I…I…I…pay…I pay…pay…I pay for you.
I…I…I…I pay…p…p…pay for you…….every…….everyday…..everyday.”
Then Silas pointed at his chest and then at my heart as he continued.
“I…I luv…I luv you.”
Now I know why Jesus wept. I went home and cried like a baby. I prayed for Silas a few times at the hospital. Silas prayed for me every day.Oh, that’s a huge differential in love.
No wonder Jesus loved Lazarus so very much! No wonder Jesus loved Silas so very much! And Jesus used Silas to remind me how much He loves me…everyday!
Tears come to my eyes now as I recall that moment with Silas. It was as much of a teaching moment as the time Lazarus walked out of that tomb into new life. I needed my love resurrected. Praying is not some church duty or emergency need. Prayer is about love.
Love is not some occasional pastime activity. Love for God and love for others is a lifetime endeavor. Everyone…All the time. That is the most important thing in life and throughout eternity.
I read about this great love in Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. I saw it in Mary, Martha, and Silas. Jesus came into their house and hearts. They were never the same. They learned to love just like Jesus.
IF YOU NEED YOUR LOVE RESURRECTED, THERE IS HOPE FOR YOU!
Jesus lives inside of us to lead us to others He intends to love through us.
Thanks, Silas, for loving me first and most.
I pray that same love might touch someone else today.
Thank you, Mary, Martha, and Silas!
I want to be more like you.Others might see in me some emotional and physical shortcomings, but I pray there will never be a disability of my spiritual heart.
So, I will ask myself the Winsday Wisdom application questions.
Rex, who will you pray for today? Who will hear you tell or read a text that you love them?
Who will be on your heart and in your prayers today?
Everyday!!!
Come on, Rex. Keep your eyes on the goal. Finish strong.
Politics! Now, that is a dirty word for some. For others, it is a religion.
My early exposure to politics was two-fold. As a baby, people in our church would call me “Ike” after President Dwight D. “Ike” Eisenhower…we both had no hair. Secondly, my mother and her five siblings would spend the holiday gatherings arguing politics. Passionate. Heated. A little chaotic. It was frightening and hilarious. Their loud and varied opinionated discussions were more of a gang fight than a game night.
Their father was a staunch Republican coal miner from Kentucky. He transplanted his family to Tahona, Oklahoma. Their hard-working mother did not have much formal education and waited until she was fifty-five before getting her driver’s license. However, she could solve any crossword puzzle and watched every episode of As the World Turns. What other education does a person really need?She outsmarted six children and made sure they stayed and succeeded in school.
Thefour sons and two daughters became Democrats for assorted reasons. My mom was a closet Republican because of loving loyalty to her dad. Since she lived in a heavily Democratic part of the state, she had to register as a Democrat in order to vote in the local and state elections.
My mom lived for the moments to be with her sister and four brothers. All of them shared an intense sense of the importance of family. They were all smart, educated, and independently opinionated. These siblings were critical thinkers. They never took the social norm as the only way things could be.
“Some men and women see things as they are and say why. I dream of things that never were and say why not” (Robert Kennedy).
Each of the six family members would have flourished as a king or queen or dictator. They knew how to run this world. Every night, they gathered at the round table for the political fight to begin. Their spouses had to find another place to eat or fellowship. Mainly, in-laws just rolled their eyes as they witnessed the entertainment. Sometimes, they provided behind the scenes commentary on the political convention. This was therapeutic relief.
This was CNN vs. Fox News in a two-hour debate in a time before either network existed. It was Beyond Bias (a book written by my talented son-in-law, Scott Krzych). No one really listened to the other persons. No one ever changed their political position because of someone else’s point of view or truckload of facts.
As the big sister, Auntie Jo could command the table with her straightforward talk and pointed finger. Whenever she held up her hand like a stop sign, everyone yielded. The table group also listened to Uncle Ray explain the political nuances as only a NASA scientist could. Raymond was brilliant and his opinion was respectfully listened to, but internally discounted because of the liberal influences from his transplant to the West Coast.
Uncle Sherman and my mom were the loudest. Sherman and Uncle K.P. were older than their little sister. Bea grew up idolizing these brothers. She also felt the need to boss them. I imagine that had been a lifelong endeavor.
When Mom got her turn (translation: injected her strong opinion into the debate), voices would get louder until Sherman would stand up from the table, hitch up his pants, and declare he was going to get another cup of coffee. That always signaled it was halftime intermission. Coffee refills and a restroom break. As Sherman strolled away from the table, he would fire off his best round at my mother. It was usually sarcastic in tone.
K.P. (at least he was royally named King Philip) was the target of Mom’s response because he was the only one smiling or listening at that point. He would tout the same political verbiage as his twin-like brother, only with more humor, more sarcasm, and less decibels. Those two brothers knew how to agitate their little sister and they enjoyed it immensely.
Uncle Curt was the youngest and, most likely, shared the wisest insights because of his educational and business experiences. His outlook seemed to be more balanced and broader-minded. More metropolitan. He respectfully waited for his turn which seldom came before there were more empty chairs at the table. His best audience came on those rare occasions he would admit that my mom had made a good point. She would yell for the others to listen to Curt. He never escaped the “baby brother” tag.That is almost like not having the right to vote.Only the youngest in a family can understand that.
My biggest takeaway from this family political dispute was that it always ended the same way. Always. Everyone hugged and said, “Goodnight. I love you.” They would hug several times. Smiles and laughter and love filled the political debate room. The siblings might have stayed awake thinking of their first comeback shot at breakfast, but there was no doubt that family love trumped political loyalty.
Love trumps political loyalty! What a concept!
Oh, if only our national politicians shared that same sentiment! If our religious dialogue would embrace that endeavor. If our cultural masses and social classes would follow the soap box debates with sincere concern for the welfare of all.
I witnessed my parents’ interest in politics as it related to education. I was raised by two Christian educators in a small community in eastern Oklahoma. Life was about God, church, family, and education. For our family, sports were intertwined with education.
My parents were always supportive of the next political candidate promising to commit more government funding to education and teacher salaries. The struggle repeated every two years after the newly elected official went the way of the former elected politicians. In other words, throughout their lifetime, school support never got fixed as Oklahoma wallowed at the bottom of educational funding.
Side note 1: The volatile oil industry, horse racing, casino gambling, and the lottery were supposed to “fix” the educational funding. Instead, they “fixed” the politicians’ pockets and pet projects.
Side note 2: In my ego-centric opinion, my lifetime best photograph was taken with the Oklahoma Governor. I was a young man, tanned and lean, nice head of hair, dressed in coat and tie. The governor looked happy as well. He claimed it was one of his favorite photographs. That governor went to prison for bribery and extortion. Somewhere, on a prison cell wall, hangs a picture of a happy, handsome, young man standing next to a crooked politician.
Does any mention of politics cause your family get-togethers to be messy or spoiled? Does the subject of religion heat up the room? Do some feel the compulsion to comment on others’ parenting skills? Those all can spill over into a need for climate control.
It seems to me that our country is seriously divided by our political arguments. The fringe elements of both parties appear to be intent on causing a split in our nation. No one person or one political idealogue should ever dominate the outcome of the lives of others. That is dangerous. Even varied interpretations of the #1 Textbook can lead to divisive arguments.
It seems as if “We the people” has been replaced with “Me and the people like me.” Where is the greater concern for “We” when it negatively affects “Me”? Each of us acts as if we expect and demand the world changes to please us. It is alright to work and vote for your opinion, but a loss should never break up loyalty to the greater good of a family, nation, or even the football team fan base.
When two people or political parties believe in their complete correctness and the other’s egregious error, they inherit the wind (#1 Textbook). Debate is followed by Hate. Poison is infused into the soul.
What comes next in the political divisiveness? “A weariness of contest, and an extinction of benevolence” (Samuel Johnson 1750. My college roommate insisted I take a class on the writings of Samuel Johnson).
Nothing should ever trump the law of love.The law of love has structure and guidelines. It is not a moral free-for-all. However, it is never meant to be suppressed or used as a sledgehammer by political or religious denominational rhetoric. Most political, church, business, or family leadership failures are rooted in flawed character.
There is a worship issue at the heart of all flawed character. When one worships self or worships a political position or religious concept rather than worship of God, the moral compass becomes broken.
IN THE LAW OF LOVE, CHARACTER MATTERS.
“Do not lie, cheat, or steal” is the bedrock principle of legendary UCLA basketball Coach John Wooden’s character principles which form his Pyramid of Success. I am pretty certain this comes straight from the #1 Textbook.
Do not lie, cheat, or steal.
That ideal is supposed to be included in the vows of every politician, minister, and marriage partner.
In the law of love, character development is a lifelong journey. Throughout this earthly journey, character either erodes or grows. Stay the course. No detours and no deviations. Finish the race…steady and swift.
It is always right to do what is right. I have fought the fight…I have finished the race…I have kept the faith…I look forward to what lies ahead (#1 Textbook).
The best way to help others is to love them first and most. You do not need a political position or church ministry to do that. Character development is personal.
Kindness is not just something you do until kindness does not work. We do not transgress moral virtues in order to gain advantages for our social and cultural agendas.
Politics is a necessary part of government. There will always be uncertain political answers to complex social questions. Political debate evolves. The virtues of character are timeless.
“Character is, in the long run, the decisive factor in the life of individuals and of nations alike” (Theodore Roosevelt).
The #1 Textbook emphatically declares that Jesus is the means and model for true character which is the evidence of God at work in and through your life. Suffering produces endurance which produces character which produces hope. That is the evidence of God’s love inside you (#1 Textbook).
Far too often, we want to engage in social media debate regarding church, politics, climate, or parenting techniques. Debates on those subjects always carry baggage of presuppositions and misinformation. Who is listening? Who changes his/her mind?
Wisdom is not learned through education, politics, law school, seminary, charm school, or social platforms. The #1 Textbook is the only foundation for wisdom. Integrity and judgment are virtues of wisdom-formed character. Respect and gratitude are wisdom-fruit that is always in season.
Today is a reminder to value whom Jesus valued and to serve those whom Jesus served. Let’s cast our vote and our allegiance to love first and love most.
Perhaps you enjoy political debates with family, friends, and foes. I feel certain you have some ideas how to straighten out our country and world. I offer my mantra for political and spiritual progress:
Debate less. Judge less. Condemn never.
Do not let your fears hold you back from pursuit of your hopes.
Whatever you say and do, finish the interaction with “I love you.”
OK. I am coming down from my soap box. I love you……….Uh, I’m waiting.
A parking ticket can be frustrating. This specific parking ticket was from the red-light district of downtown Nashville. It created a firestorm of questions, accusations, suspicion, intrigue, and a blockbuster revelation.
My uncle and his family lived in Gallatin, Tennessee, just 30 miles from Nashville. For several summers, they were like a second home for me. Cousin Kay and I are about the same age. I love the three boys as if they were little brothers.
However, I was unaware of the drama caused by one specific big-city parking ticket. My uncle received a notification of a past due parking fine from the City of Nashville Transit Authority. The description identified his car and license plate. It also noted the location of the parking violation. It was downtown Nashville. In fact, the car had been illegally parked in an area infamously noted as the city’s red-light district.
My uncle sat at the kitchen table reading the violation notice. It allowed thirty days to pay the fine or be subject to a summons. My uncle interpreted “summons” as the possibility of law enforcement officials arriving at his house to handcuff him or one of his family members. He was determined to get to the bottom of this problem.
Uncle K.P. had not been to Nashville in the past year. He would never have a reason to park in that part of the metroplex. He contacted the city. It was no mistake. There were photographs of his car with the license tag registered to him, parked at an expired meter in the heart of Nashville.
The location of my uncle’s car next to an expired parking meter was very specific. It was not parked by the Grand Ole Opry. Not next to the Ryman Theatre or Country Music Hall of Fame. Not near the Johnny Cash Museum or the Nashville Pantheon. It was definitely, undeniably, the Nashville red-light district.
The history of the locale was well-known to citizens and visitors. The two-block area was initially called “Smoky Row.” The red-light designation historically went back to the Civil War times where it became recognized as the place for this country’s first system of legalized prostitution.
In more recent times, the extended corridor east of Broadway was noted for honky-tonk bars and a haven for prostitutes and drug dealers. It was definitely not part of the family-friendly tourist attractions. Any visit to that area would not have an honorable purpose.
There might have been hope that the misdeed could be overlooked in the darkness of the night. However, the crime had surfaced in the daylight. To make matters worse, Dad knew, and he told Mom. Worse is not a bad-enough word to describe the rising cloud of suspicion. A storm of something worse-than-worse had enveloped the house. “Uh-oh! Worser!”
Who was responsible for the parking ticket? Uncle K.P. lined up the suspects. Kay was exempt. Why? Well, she was Kay, his beloved daughter. Besides, she had her own car. Bill David was too young to drive. That left teenagers, Mark and Neil, as the only two suspects for this investigation. They would face some very passionate parental questioning. No mercy.
The grilling examination was intense. The stakes were raised as well as the voice levels. The CIA has banned some of those interrogation techniques. The strong-armed Mafia methods were no match for this shakedown. Gallatin, we have a problem!
These were the facts. Someone had taken the family car without permission. He went on his secret joy ride to Nashville. He drove to the wrong city for some unwholesome purpose. There was an overdue, unpaid parking ticket near a place that was prohibited for under-age participants. A continued lie would only make it worse.
The inquisition continued. The older Mark drew most of the suspicion. The parents felt sure Neil could not find his way around Nashville then or now. His sense of directions was notable confusion. The family often said Neil could not find his way out of a phonebooth.(To the younger generations: Google it. There was a time when there were phonebooths, parking meters, payment by check, and asking for directions from someone not named Siri.)
The voices continued to get more passionate and much louder with the continued interaction. As the accusation continued, Mark and Neil vehemently denied any guilt. They definitely did not go there together. Neither one threw the other under the bus, but they left open the possibility. They were questioned separately. “It must have been him because it definitely was not me.”
Uncle K.P. was convinced one was guilty and possibly both could be incriminated. Mark was suspected of lying, which was worse than the parking ticket offense. Neil might have had a late-night excursion with some friends. The secret run-for-fun had been exposed. Their dad’s face was flashing red. It looked more like the police car lights than the wrong-area-of-town lights.
He would make sure that no one in his family was going to be led away in handcuffs in their small town.
Trust had been damaged. The penalty for the unconfessed violation was steep. Both boys would pay for the overdue ticket. Both would be grounded from driving any car. Maybe forever.
The boys did the time for the crime. They paid their dues. Their transgression would find its way into subsequent conversations regarding privileges and requests. They never confessed. In fact, for the next three years, they declared their innocence. But the damage had been done. The clouds never cleared.
But wait…
A startling revelation would throw new light onto the red-light district parking ticket. New evidence was discovered. It had been hidden away for three years. The cold case would finally begin to unravel.
That is where I came into the picture of this car caper catastrophe. Clueless about the three-year-old suspension associated with this embarrassing family episode, I was able to shed light on the guilty party. I found some important evidence, hidden from the prosecution and defense teams.
It happened at Christmas time when Uncle K.P. and family visited our family home in Oklahoma. They had no expectation that new information would break the case and exonerate the penitent pair.
I interrupted the family festivities with an announcement. I had cleaned out my briefcase the previous month. I discovered an unpaid parking ticket. As I examined the document, I realized the violation had occurred three years prior in Nashville.
The parking ticket occurred when I borrowed my uncle’s car to go to a church conference at the denominational headquarters in downtown Nashville. I could not find any public parking, so I parked several blocks away. The meter expired before I returned from the meeting. I placed the ticket in my briefcase with the intent of paying it when I got home. Needless to say, I forgot about it.
Three years later,I confessed to my uncle that a parking ticket occurred when I borrowed his car.
My revelation brought Mark and Neil out of their chairs. They shouted in celebration of the new evidence which supported their innocence. They yelled at their dad, “We told you we did not do that.”
Then they told me and the rest of the family the whole parking ticket story. The unpaid violation notice from the City of Nashville. The accusation. The interrogation. The judgment. The punishment. The cloud of distrust. It was a wild, crazy, sad but often funny story.
My uncle confessed he had misjudged them, but he offered little remorse. He just smiled and declared the false charges made up for all the stuff the boys did that he did not know about.
Now my mother insisted on clarification for why I was in that vicinity. As Ricky Ricardo from I Love Lucy often said to his wife, “Lucy! You have some ‘splainin’ to do.”
I had no idea that the downtown area was anywhere near a renowned red-light district. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!
Have you ever been falsely accused? Have you ever paid the price for someone else’s violation? I imagine you have a story to tell. I have a greater story. It is not an entertaining story about my parking ticket being paid by falsely accused cousins. This story is life-changing to its readers.
The most important thing in life is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength…and love others as yourself (#1 Textbook).
That is the greatest commandment in life. All of us have come short of expressing that love all the time…to everyone. The meter of opportunity has expired on many occasions. The violations have piled up. So many trespasses, that we have forgotten about most of them. BUT GOD…
But God, being rich in mercy because of the great love in which He loved us, made us alive together with Christ, even as we were dead in our transgressions…unresponsive and undeserving (#1 Textbook).
We were spiritually dead. We were unresponsive. Doing right was not in our playbook. Not if it cost us something we wanted. We went where we wanted and parked where we wanted for as long as we wanted. We partied with the other wrong doers as if we belonged in the wrong city. Guilty with no remorse. We were going the wrong direction in life and headed for the wrong destination in the next life. But God…
But God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners (#1 Textbook).
The innocent Jesus took our place and our deserved punishment. He was falsely accused. He was arrested and led away with his hands bound, while we warmed our hands at the red-light fire of His enemies.
We did the crime and Jesus experienced the consequences. He suffered physical pain, emotional torment, and spiritual agony.
The physical pain included the horrific torture of scourging. Jesus stood with his hands tied to a post. A skilled military professional used a whip made of leather cords wrapped in pieces of bone and metal. Its purposeful design inflicted as much pain as possible as it cut into the body and ripped out pieces of flesh with each lash. The goal of scourging was to cause the maximum amount of pain and loss of blood.
Jesus would later be beaten and bruised on His swollen face and body by fists and hard objects. A crown of thorns was rammed onto his head, causing blood to run down his face. His weakened, beaten, battered body still had to make the long trek up the hill carrying a heavy cross.
Crucifixion was considered the most painful execution possible. It was a death reserved for the worst of the worst. The vilest. The lowest. The most despicable. The most hated. The most humiliated.
His hands were nailed to the horizontal wood, then his feet fastened to the vertical bottom. The hanged position was designed to cause slow suffocation. The end result would feel like being water-boarded as the criminal struggled to gasp for air. Sheer, unadulterated agony.A long, slow, tortuous death.
The emotional trauma made it all the more distasteful. Jesus was rejected by the religious leadership. He was rejected by the government. He was rejected by the crowds who had previously adored him. He was abandoned by his closest friends. He was disowned by most of his family.
There was sustained stress and monumental pressure. His name was dragged through the mud. His reputation was ruined. His face was spit upon as bystanders hatefully called him vulgar names. The lowest of the low looked down on him in disgust.
The spiritual agony would be beyond our comprehension. He felt alone, ashamed, betrayed, abandoned. He battled the unleashed forces of hell. He sensed He was forsaken. While knowing He was doing God’s will, He saw no heavenly help on the horizon. Jesus looked to where He had always looked for strength and comfort and assurance only to see absence. He could feel the presence of evil. And death! The voluntary mission to save the world would mean physical, emotional, and spiritual death.There was no one else to save us.
What happened? On the cross, God treated the perfect, loving Jesus as if He had lived our sinful, self-centered lives in order that throughout eternity God might treat us as if we had lived Jesus’ perfect life of loving God and loving others.
Jesus paid the price for all our tickets and transgressions. It was not a mistake. It was a voluntary act of loving first and most. “No one takes my life from me. I gladly lay it down for your spiritual welfare.”
Jesus carried our griefs, our sorrows, and our troubles. He was wounded, bruised, beaten, and executed so that we could go free. The guilt of us all was placed on Him (#1 Textbook).
Our Brother gladly accepted what we deserved. The hateful accusations. The mocking ridicule. The brutal interrogation. The derogatory condemnation. The embarrassing shame. The horrible punishment. The excruciating execution.
Years later, you and I would receive a notification letter that we are the guilty parties. However, the letter also contained good news. BUT GOD…But God paid the debt for all the ticketed violations. The slate is clean. There is no condemnation. Not now. Not ever.
When was the last time you told Jesus thank-you?This parking ticket is just a reminder!
Do you remember why Jesus stepped into your penalty box?
A great exchange took place. In love, Jesus gave His life for your life. In gratitude, you give your life to Jesus.
How? Why?
It is no longer I who live, but Jesus lives in me.The life I now live, I live by faith in Jesus. Jesus lives in and through me because He loved me and gave Himself up for me (#1 Textbook).
Jesus lives inside you to lead you to others He intends to love through you.
Jesus loves first and loves most. Imitate Him and walk in love just as He loved us (#1 Textbook).
Who will be your love target this week?Do not let the meter expire on the opportunity.
“Jehovah-Jireh”—the LORD will provide. This was not the first time that phrase was used on a mountaintop. But this one was an unforgettable reminder of that first Biblical utterance.
Was it a Mountaintop Miracle? Or was it just a lesson about how God provides for us every hour of every day in His special way?
It happened on a hot summertime day on Glorieta Mountain in New Mexico. The event was unforgettable. The lesson was priceless.
My witty wingman and I made a late-night trip to join the church youth group in New Mexico. I borrowed my little brother’s new baby blue Grand Am. The long overnight drive was sweet and fast. I awoke long enough to lean over to look at the speedometer. Jeff just smiled and said he was following a speeding semi-truck down the interstate.
As the sun came up, we stopped at a roadside diner for breakfast. Jeff pulled out the Olivia Newton-John eight-track tape that had been on replay through the night. It was literally too hot to touch.
The waitress was strangely friendly as she literally watched us eat our breakfast. The post-breakfast check-out was even stranger. There were samples of our food order on the messy check: a spot of egg, drop of gravy, speck of biscuit, and bacon grease. Jeff commented that the food-stained check might be necessary if the cashier were illiterate. Charge by the picture.
The third day at the Glorieta campgrounds included the challenge for four of our group to climb the local mountain. It was more of a long, steep walk than a climb. Jeff and young Mark struck out ahead, while Curtis Davis and I were more on an adventurous stroll.
Curtis was one of my favorites. He was a highschooler, member of the choir, and natural leader. He possessed a charming personality and inquisitive mind. Most importantly, he was a new follower of Jesus. Our walk would be pleasant and memorable.
Curtis was full of questions about life and the #1 Textbook. We paused to tee up some pinecones and launch them with our golf branches. I enjoyed the journey and the company. We climbed what we perceived as the last rocks to the mountaintop plateau, only to discover that we were barely halfway up the mountain. The peak had been hidden from view by our tree-lined path.
The sun beat down on us with its threatening heat. The mountain top towered over us, but it was not insurmountable. Curtis commented that we should have brought some water. Duh! I replied with a nonchalant phrase from my treasure cove of responses to impending disaster or inept planning.
“Jehovah-Jireh.”
Curtis asked me to repeat what I said,
“Jehovah-Jireh—the LORD will provide. If we need water, I am sure God will provide some.”
I truly believe in the Lord who provides. I have experienced many occasions of awareness of His gracious intervention before and since this mountain-journey outburst.
Curtis was intrigued in the name and concept as he repeated the phrase, “Jehovah-Jireh. That would be a miracle!”
Let me set the stage for the miracle. First, I should have thought about bringing some drinking water. Second, my response was more casual than theological in its intent. It also crossed my mind that maybe the park rangers had some water fountain or spring at the top of the mountain.
We needed water. I said that the Lord would provide. The uttered phrase was a normal response for me. This was not a ‘Name it, Claim it’ kind of statement of faith. It was just something I say. I trust God.
However,I was not prepared for what lay ahead for this memorable mountain climb. The next thirty minutes ascending the mountain were filled with me telling the story from the #1 Textbook about the revelation of God’s name as “Jehovah-Jireh.”
The name “Jehovah-Jireh” appears in Genesis of the #1 Textbook when God miraculously provided a ram, hidden with its horn stuck in a thick bush, as a substitute for the sacrifice of Abraham’s son, Isaac, on Mount Moriah.
Abraham called that place. “Jehovah-Jireh” — the LORD will provide. The #1 Textbook records that the place would perpetually be described as, “On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.”
God had chosen Abraham to be the prototype for the future family of faith. His life lessons give us hope, not only from his steadfast trust in God, but also because of his frailty and failures on that journey to growing stronger in faith. He was far from perfect and not always trusting of God. He was often selfish and independent in his plans of action. He was fearful, impatient, and impulsive. But he became the friend of God (#1 Textbook).
That gives me hope.
God chose Abraham and gave Him great promises, which included divinely guaranteed family and land. Abraham believed God. That’s it! That is what this earthly life is about. Believe God. The most important commandment is to love God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength…and to love others as yourself. Believe God and do it.
Believe God for who He is and what He promises. For Abraham and us, it is a journey, just like a walk up a mountain.
Abraham and his wife, Sarah, remained childless. They became too old to have a child. The Lord provided. It was a miracle. Isaac, the son of promise, was born. God provided a son when all hope was gone. All the earthly hopes of family and land were identified with Abraham’s son.
Then came the big test of faith, which is what pleases God (#1 Textbook). God told Abraham to take Isaac on a walk, up Mount Moriah. He was to sacrifice his son. I can only imagine the questions, anxiety, fears, and debate raging in Abraham’s mind. The #1 Textbook (Hebrews) states, “Abraham obeyed God, believing that God would somehow raise Isaac from the dead if that became necessary.”
God desires loving obedience, not human sacrifice. This journey of faith, like all our walks through life, carried a life lesson. The LORD will provide.
God uses the obedience of faith to open our eyes to His provision of new life. Isaac questioned his father about their act of worship. Abraham replied that the Lord would provide what was needed. God already had the provision ready. There was a ram, with its horns locked in the bush. It remained hidden from view until the moment it was most needed.
Abraham named the mountaintop, Jehovah-Jireh, the LORD will provide.
Curtis and I were on another mountain far away from the one walked by Abraham and Isaac. We were not far away from the same God as we talked about that first mountaintop miracle. I talked about the importance of trusting God in all things and shared a few examples of how the Lord had provided for me.
Faith feeds the thirsty soul, but it does not quench the desire for water. We paused our trek up the mountain at another plateau. We rested our weary bodies on a huge rock.Curtis stretched out on the rock with a sigh, “Jehovah-Jireh.”
Curtis expressed the hopes of both of us. Maybe there would be a source of water somewhere on this mountain. Curtis really believed that! I was just teaching a life lesson to a young man who would make a huge impact in the lives of many young people in the years to come. He is still doing that. I hoped he would not be disillusioned.
What happened next? If it had been a movie, a bright light would have appeared with the sounds of angelic music. However, this was real. Only the sounds of silence. I looked across the path at the nearby bush. There was a green canteenunderneath the bush.
A green canteen. Do you think it could be possible? No, it must have been discarded by a previous hiker. I walked over and picked up the green canteen and showed it to Curtis. I twisted the cap. The canteen was completely full of water…cold water!
I yelled out, “Jehovah-Jireh!” Curtis echoed the phrase. I handed the green canteen to Curtis. He took the first drink. His expression is forever recorded in my memory. I have never had a drink of cold water which tasted so refreshing.The mountain miracle made a lasting impact on both of us!
I do not know how (1) this green canteen full of cold water (2) ended up under a bush (3) on the mountain (4) at exactly the spot we stopped (5) while we were discussing the “Jehovah-Jireh” story and (6) at the moment Curtis said he believed God would provide us water.
How? That does not matter! It happened. God arranged all the circumstances for the green canteen to be there when we needed it.The Lord always provides what we need at the moment most needed.
It was an unforgettable experience for two young men. The Jehovah-Jireh green canteen, hidden under the mountain bush, has remained a keepsake on my bookshelf. It is a constant reminder that the LORD provides.
Provide—to supply something that is seen as needed. God sees the need and acts. The theological term is “the providence of God.” God is actively involved in giving us all we need.
GOD ALWAYS GIVES THE PERFECT SUPPLY AT THE PERFECT TIME. ALWAYS!
However, God is not our table waiter who can be ordered to satisfy our every desire. He does not work according to our timeline. Neither is He some cosmic slot machine where you gamble for the big bucks. He is not the god of Press Your Luck. Nor is He some heavenly handkerchief that you can pull out and put away according to your latest whim. Neither is God bound by whatever you Name and Claim. You do not and cannot control God.
We tend to think of our needs as some toy, trinket, or earthly trivial pursuit. We tend to place our hopes to supply our needs in stocks or upgrades. Sometimes in emergencies, we resort to prayer requests.As one woman in crisis lamented to my suggestion to pray, “Has it come to that?”
Most of us who are children of this same faith have some experiences where we recognize God provided a real need. It might have been a child, a car, or a cure from sickness. It could include the provision of a home, a job, or an ability.
In the first Jehovah-Jireh story in the #1 Textbook, the Lord’s provision was in the context of facing the loss of life. God sees the need for a substitute. That is also the context of God’s ultimate provision. We face the loss of life both earthly and eternally.
Jesus is God’s perfect and complete provision to our earthly and eternal needs. He is literally “Jehovah-Jireh,” the Lamb of God provided as our substitute sacrifice. Then God raised Jesus up from the dead because all our promises are in Him.
Trust God.
The lesson of God’s provision for Abraham is the same faith lesson taught to the Moses-led Israelites who miraculously crossed the Red Sea, only to find themselves in a desert wilderness without water. Amidst their complaints, God provided an abundance of water from a rock (#1 Textbook–Exodus). That’s right, a flood of water from a rock!
The water was an important spiritual lessonfor life in the desert and on the mountain.
The people needed God, not water. Curtis and I needed God, not water. We all need God, not water. Our other needs are all wrapped up in our need for God, first and foremost.Learn that lesson well.
The Lord’s provision for our eternal well-being certainly includes all our earthy needs. Our God has promised to provide for all our needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus (#1 Textbook—Philippians).
Do you trust God? How do you become personal friends with Jehovah-Jireh? We learn the LORD will provide, most often in connection to our faith being tested. Tests of faith come with thoughts of fear, anxiety, and impatience. (I have been there.)
The faith tests might be partnered with personal flaws, frailty, and failures. (I have been there.) Those are the moments that test us…and teach us.
Jesus told His first team of faith followers what they needed to pass on to us.
Do not be anxious or fearful about your life or about what you will eat and drink. Do not worry about your body’s health or clothing. Look at the birds in the air. They do not plant or harvest or store up things. The Lord feeds them.
Consider the flowers of the field. They do not work or have a clothing allowance. The greatest and wealthiest king of all time was never more gloriously clothed than they…You are of far more value (#1 Textbook–Matthew).
God cares for the smallest and weakest animals. God cares for the most beautiful and the least attractive inanimate things. You are of far more value to God than these. Trust God to provide for all your needs.
Open your eyes. Look at the cross. Jehovah-Jireh.
Since God did not spare even his own Son, but gave him up for us all, won’t he also surely give us everything else? (#1 Textbook–Romans). God did not hesitate to lay everything on the line to provide new life to us. God gave us Himself. He not only can provide but will gladly and freely provide everything else we need.
It does not matter whether you are wandering in a scorching desert wilderness or scaling a steep rocky mountain. The LORD will provide.
Do not fret or fear, my friend. Trust God. Go ahead. Keep walking. Love First and Love Most.
YOU MIGHT HAVE TO WAIT, BUT GOD”S PROVISION WILL NEVER BE LATE!
Jehovah-Jireh—the LORD will provide. Sometimes it looks like a Green Canteen.
Christmas time was always special at our house. The anticipation of Christmas morning was the highlight. Our parents splurged to make our dreams come true. Later years revealed the sacrifices they made to create lifetime memories for their three sons. Their created tradition continues in all our families.
The most notable Christmas gift for me was an official NBA basketball. Bright orange. Genuine leather. Special edition. Expensive. It had the NBA logo and the signature of Bob Cousy, point guard for the champion Boston Celtics.
I was thrilled. A new basketball. Official NBA. Autographed by a player from my favorite pro basketball team. It could not get any better than this. But it did!
All the gifts had been opened. It was time for breakfast. As I bounced the ball through the house, Dad opened the curtains to the backyard. A new basketball goal had been erected overnight. I shouted and leaped into my dad’s arms. Then I hugged my smiling mom on my way out the door to shoot some hoops.
The “swish” of a basketball going through the goal and net remains one of my favorite sounds. The special noise of a perfect shot is pure sweetness. I played basketball the entire day and into the evening shadows. I cleaned off the basketball and placed it on the washing machine. In hindsight, I should have slept with it.
The next morning, the basketball was flat. The NBA logo was dented inward. The ball would not bounce. Not even a little. I cried. Dad got an air pump, but the ball would not hold the air. Faint hissing sounds came from several places on the ball. I cried again.
There was no joy in Mudville that day. I was heartbroken. I could get another basketball, but not like this one. This special edition basketball was not available in the sports store. It could not be reordered. Dad had made special arrangements with a sporting goods company to obtain it for the holidays.
What happened? That was a mystery. Dad’s inspection revealed that the basketball had numerous tiny little holes in its cover. Maybe a dozen or more punctures. The deflated basketball did not have a blowout. It was more like the slow death of a thousand leaks.
Our Sherlock Holmes mother discovered the missing clue. She found a thumbtack on the table. She raised the question. Could this be the cause?
Mom was famous for her detective prowess. She could call out a cover-up lie before you had finished your first sentence. She once busted a drug ring at school. Some kids in her English class were passing around white pills. She confiscated the evidence and marched them to the principal’s office. The subsequent interrogation revealed the “little white pills” were actually Tic-Tac fresh breath mints. Her sons gave this silver-haired sleuth the nickname of Starsky and Hutch. (For the younger crowd, Starsky and Hutch was a popular television show about two Southern California undercover police detectives and their confidential informant, Huggy Bear.)
Given time, our Starsky and Hutch mom would have used Bill’s science kit to obtain fingerprints, but intense questioning was more her style. It produced quicker confessions. She rounded up the usual suspects. She served as prosecutor with Dad serving as judgeand jury.
Could my little brother have done this? Surely not.
Dad pushed the thumbtack into the ball. It took some effort. He concluded it would be too difficult for a little boy, even if the tiny tyke had the inclination. It would take a lot of strength.
I immediately suspected little brother. He was never a mean kid, but he was mischievous. He could agitate with the best of them. Still does, only with more sarcasm. My youngest brother was not much bigger than the basketball, so he was not a potential defendant.
So, we had a suspect and a weapon. Was there a motive?
Bill wanted a Fort Apache toy set for Christmas. It had the big tin fort, the plastic soldiers, Indians, horses, and cannons. He did not get his wish. Mom said that his older brother had one and did not take care of it. Interpretation: I left it all over the floor.
Bill wanted another gift for his birthday earlier in the month. I think it was an Erector set (pre-Legos). He was persuaded to change his mind. Reason: His older brother had the game and did not like it.The Alamo set with Davey Crockett, coonskin hat, and the Mexican soldiers was out of the question. There was one boxed-up in his brother’s bedroom.
Fortunately for Bill, I was not into science. Mom decided to have a science son in the family since her oldest son had no interest in those things. He got a science kit for his birthday and a telescope for Christmas. Those were great gifts and he loved them. Dad gifted the fledgling scientist with a football jerseyin hope of a future quarterback.
I am just saying there was a plausible motive for little brother taking down the bouncing ball. Pent up resentment. Revenge. Jealousy.
I do not think his inquisitive mind needed a reason. This early action was just a clue to his need to marry a special ed teacherto harness the potential. There was a sharp tack and there was a shiny basketball.
What would happen if……?Curiosity killed the cat.
The parental discussion continued as the family sat around the table. Dad said he was sure the thumbtack was the cause of the ball’s deflation. I might have accidentally bounced the ball on the tack, but that would not explain the multiple punctures. The younger boys were not strong enough to push the thumbtack into the hardened cylinder.
As Dad rotated the ball in his hands, Bill identified himself as the cause of the flat basketball. His revelation was not really a confession. It was more of a proud announcement that he was strong enough to push the tack into the basketball.
Oh No! Little Bro!
Our dad challenged him to prove it, knowing it would be more difficult for the tack to penetrate the flattened leather surface than the inflated one. Cool Breeze was always up for a challenge. The guilty culprit proved he could do it. In fact, he was extremely pleased with his completed experiment. With each new puncture, his smile got bigger.
Somehow, little brother failed to comprehend the magnitude of his destructive nature. Maybe he was doing a science experiment.
If agitation had been a college science course, then Mom had the doctor she always wanted in the family.(She eventually adopted a future doctor into the family, but it never lessened the agitation.)
My first sight of that backyard basketball goal will always be one of my precious childhood memories. The feel of that new basketball and the sound of that first “swish” remain vivid nostalgia. The loss of that official NBA basketball evokes smiles, not tears. Honestly, the imitation leather replacement basketball was more suitable to the backyard court.
NBA basketballs are replaceable. Little brothers are priceless! So are the memories!Some days you think they will never grow up. Some days you are amazed at how big of an impact their grown-up lives have made in this world.
All of us have lost something special to us. It probably made you cry or angry or depressed. You might have considered the “thing” a valuable possession, cherished gift, sentimental keepsake, family heirloom, disputed inheritance, memorable souvenir, or precious picture. Maybe it was broken, stolen, misplaced, damaged, or ruined. It might have ended up in the trash or a Goodwill box.
A grandchild might accidentally drop the expensive smartphone into the toilet. The spouse might back one car into the side of the other. A child might knock the baseball through the window. A family friend might habitually knock over his tea glass at the table like a burst of the Hoover Dam. You might get knocked down in a crowd and lose a shoe. These are only hypothetical.
“Things” do not ultimately matter. People do. That lesson is so hard for us to learn. Even more difficult to embrace. We love our toys, trinkets, and trivia. As we grow older, we cherish our big-people toys, trinkets, and trivia. We might keep them on the wall, on the fireplace mantel, in a display case, a box in the attic, or a safety deposit box at the bank. We might wear “the thing” or drive it around.
The loss of our beloved “thing” might cause sadness, anger, hurt, or remorse over its absence. We miss it, but we were never going to be able to take it with us into the next life.
There is no timeline or finish line for grief of loss. Adjustment to loss just takes time, and that amount of time is different for every person. Time changes one’s perspective. Go at your own pace. Be patient with yourself. You will never forget but you will heal.
I cannot offer a satisfactory answer as to why any loss happens. Whether by accident, theft, or neglect, loss never comes as good news.
It is understandable for your vision to be clouded by sorrow or anger for your loss. Your mind might become flooded with questions concerning why these things happen. If you feel bad and bitter, I want to give you a break today. I ask others to do the same. This is not easy. I am sure your loss is greater than a genuine leather NBA basketball.
The loss of anything cherished is a bitter pill to swallow, and its aftertaste can linger long. In the short term, you do feel “empty.” You are not alone. God is with you and for you. Holding on to that promise is easier when the difficult loss belongs to someone else.
There is a thin line between sweetness and bitterness. In cooking, it could be the amount of sugar. In spiritual things, the difference is hope. In a multitude of unanswered questions seasoned with blame and bitterness, you can still hope in God. When hope gets fully mixed into the recipe, you cannot see it; it just makes everything better.
God purposes to use these earthly life losses to transform us to live and love like Jesus. “Things” come and go. No one gets to drag a U-Haul into the next life.
We live in a fallen, broken world that is the polar opposite of our heavenly inheritance. In this world, things perish, spoil, and fade in value and substance. Something we treasure can be taken from us and defiled. Our best dreams and greatest successes fade, but that also describes our sufferings and losses in this world. They will all perish, spoil, and fade. (#1 Textbook)
The common element of all these various multicolored trials is the experience of grief. The #1 Textbook is very honest about the reality of losing earthly treasures. It never promises we will have loss-free lives. Instead, it guarantees a living hope that is so real and so powerful it shines brightest in the face of trials and loss.
Grief has an expiration date; so do trials. They remain for a little while, ifnecessary (#1 Textbook).
Your heavenly inheritance is imperishable; it will never be used up.
It is undefiled; it can never be messed up.
It is unfading; it will never lose its value.
It is unending; it is resistant to death, sin, and time. (#1 Textbook)
There is NO THING that is worth damaging or losing a relationship…NO THING!
Learn that lesson well. You will need it for every year of every relationship.
I am not saying that facing any kind of loss is easy. Sometimes you have to climb up on the mountaintop of pain to see the foretaste of glory. Sometimes being plunged into the depths of darkness provides the best view of just how great and glorious God’s love for you truly is.
Sometimes it takes a thumbtack to put the bigger picture back together.
I still love my brothers. They are worth more than any NBA basketball.
Let’s all love first and love most. That kind of love lasts forever.
Wait! You have a special edition NBA basketball signed by LeBron James?
Let me think about that...and please do not tell my little brother!
LOVE FIRST...LOVE MOST 