WHO CAN KNOW?

 

If there’s one thing that I definitely know about life, it’s that there are many things I don’t know, such as, where I put my glasses or cellphone that I just had a minute ago. I don’t know how to do taxes. I don’t know why my computer freaks out. I don’t know why cats are sometimes insane. And I’ll never know why my husband thinks that bacon-wrapped brussel sprouts are tasty, when everybody knows that chocolate-wrapped fruit is heaven sent.

And speaking of heaven ... because my earthly life is stuffed to the brim with mostly mundane daily trivia, and occasional life-altering surprises, the older I get, the more I’m inclined to be eagerly looking up. And at the same time, I feel very sad that hoards of people don’t know, don’t want to believe, what happens after they die. Simply put, they don’t want to know or believe God, who He is, and His promises (Jeremiah 9:23-24).

I myself used to have a shaky belief in a generic “god” out there, but he (or she or it) must certainly be apathetic about earthlings. I sorta knew that Jesus existed, that He was a good guy. But I didn’t spend any time in the Bible, because I preferred to read anything other than Scripture. Mostly, I believed in reincarnation, that I alone decided the course of my own life (and future lives). And I was pretty sure that everything somehow all worked out in the end and every single person would live in a paradise of his/her own making. I knew the Bible said that Jesus had resurrected, but somehow it was easier to believe in self-reincarnation than God-ordained resurrection. I sneered much.

Then one day, in His perfect timing, my God saved me. And I know why. Because He loved me first (1 John 4:19). He turned my twisted self-oriented thinking into straightforward faith in Him. He humbled me and caused me to see my sinful nature that rebelled against His perfect holiness, caused me to confess and repent of sin, caused me to crave His Word alone, and caused me to know Who His Son really is. He gave me an anchor-solid understanding that Jesus wasn’t just a nice fella who was born, did nice things, died an un-nice death, and maybe resurrected.

I also began to see myself in Scripture, that I had been like the “religious” people who “sneered” when hearing of the resurrection (Acts 17:22, 32). I had been like the disciple Thomas who refused to believe what he hadn’t yet seen (John 20:27-30).

In my suddenly pervasive reading of Scripture, it became clear that the Lord Jesus spoke of resurrection often. And not just His own resurrection, but His promise to raise up every believer (John 5:28-9). He wanted me to know, without any doubt, that I could trust His promises because I could trust Him. My soul soared to read His words, “I go to prepare a place for you, ... I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:2-3). He has promised that I will be caught up together with other believers in the clouds to meet Him in the air, “and so we shall always be with the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18). What comforting words!

Knowing a few facts about Jesus in my head just wasn’t enough. I had to believe, to know in my heart that He is the only Way to heaven, He is the only truth, and He is the eternal Life (John 14:6). I will be resurrected, in God’s perfect time (John 6:40, 47; 1 Corinthians 15:22, 44, 49), to live with Him eternally.

I’m not to trust or believe in my own allegedly wise eyes, “but in God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9). Jesus said, “He who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26).

My God, I know that You keep Your promises and You do not lie. My Jesus, You and the Father are one. I can, and I do, believe Your promises to me. This Easter, I fall on my knees and thank You, that You died on my behalf to reconcile me to my God. And I celebrate Your resurrection, oh-so eagerly looking forward to The Day when all in Your church will be with You eternally, to the glory of God.

I believe all of this, and I know there is no ? to eternity. 

COMMON SENSE, COMMON STUPID

Somebody recently told me that he thought I possess much common sense, based primarily on wee stories, just like this one. Excuse me a minute while I recuperate from rolling-on-the-floor guffawing at the thought of me having any sense at all.

There, I’m okay now. Even though this person has known me a realllllyyyy long time, he’s probably forgotten about the many instances of extremely common-stupid incidents throughout my life. For example, when I, as a desperate teenager, used fabric softener to smooth and straighten my wild hair. Or when I’d read girlish detective novels and spied on the neighbors. Or when my girlfriend and I brought home bird eggs from a nearby field and tried to hatch ’em in the oven. I’ll stop now, you get the idea. But suffice it to say that reaching the coveted adult age of 21 did not diminish common-stupid activities.

When I consider my blemished lifelong behavior and attitudes, one word comes to mind: FOOL. I know, how rude. But according to the Word of God, since I was born a sinner (Romans 5:12), foolishness is one of many offshoot behaviors. Scripture is heavily saturated with examples of foolishness sprouting dainty buds of dishonesty, slander, atheism, hyper-self-confidence, and hypocrisy. Since I was born with a congential “wise in my own eyes” syndrome, it was a bit of a shock when the Lord reached down to save me, and showed me that I wasn’t as wise as the proverbial owl after all.

Psalm 19:7-11 and 2 Timothy 3:15-17 showed me the blessed usefulness of Scripture, stretching me way beyond my own common stupid/sense. Scripture taught me to be humble and ask God for His wisdom, which He gives freely (James 1:5-6). It’s intimidating, and yet, so comforting to know that His thoughts and ways are so very much higher than mine (Isaiah 55:8-9). And Jesus, who IS God, told the disciples to “learn from Me” (Matthew 11:29).

My Father, Who is infinitely full of wisdom, I thank You that You’ve given me the privilege of learning directly from Your Word, and learning directly from my Jesus. So no matter how entertaining it is for me to write quirky story-lady blurbs, no matter how powerful our pastor, or t.v. evangelist, no matter the wonderful theologically-helpful books that are at my disposal ... I crave to learn from You first and foremost. Each day, I want to hide more of Your Word in my heart because my own “common sense” is so wishy-washy, and Your very uncommon wisdom is stable and eternal, and I desire it more than “much fine gold” (Psalm 19:10).

CHIRPING BIRDS AND BUSTED BOTTLES

In my humble opinion, this is the proper way to walk a pup -- in the seasonally glorious woods, with fresh air, chirping birds, bubbling brooks, Bambi, munchkins, and most important, convenient benches for tired old people with hyperactive pups, all of whom require copious amounts of sugar-saturated energy snacks.


As opposed to ... traipsing down the sidewalk on our boulevard where people in wannabe racecars shoot off the nearby highway, spasming along at warp speed, tossing out bottles of who-knows-what (although I do) which shatter all over driveways and sidewalks. ’Tis certainly a different type of exercise for us, less like sauntering, more like frantic hopscotching, avoiding spiked and splintery shards scattered about, capable of shredding even the thickest of athletic shoes, and certainly delicate wee puppy paws.

 

Upon consideration, is anyone’s life really like the Bambi-walk through the woods? Nah. Most people’s lives, occasionally or frequently, resemble the hopscotch through the city’s shards. Not to sound cheerless, but diligence is necessary in maneuvering through life. And when we insist on powering through on our own wisdom, well, things can get messy really fast. At least that’s been true in my own life. More than once. Slowwwww learner.

 

What’s my point? Well, as I’m walking our little Minnie pup through the obstacle-shard-course, from my tall long-legged human vantage point, I have a pretty good view of the surrounding area. Short-legged puppy’s vantage point is spectacularly limited, and she could care less about danger. Her goal in life is to smell every blade of grass and pee on it. 

 

So here’s my point -- it’s my job to maneuver her safely through her walk, by guiding and sometimes pulling her away from the shards aiming to cause her harm. I want her to pay more attention to me than she does to peeing on things. Does Minnie WANT to be guided by me? No, she wants to do her thing, when and how she wants to do it. Does that behavior sound familiar? Yes, and I’m ashamed of myself. Because even at my somewhat advanced age, I still find myself lurching away from the guidance of the Holy Spirit, demanding to do things my own way, because hey! I’m gonna do what I want. That’s what happens when I forget the velvety admonition that “pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before stumbling” (Proverbs 16:18).

 

My all-seeing and all-knowing God, forgive me for refusing to stop and consider that You see things that I cannot, things that You desire to guide me through and around, so that I’m not hurt. No doubt You’ll take me places I’d rather not go for my good and Your glory, but please cause me to pay more attention to You than on my sensory miscalculations. Remind me as often as necessary in Your Word how much you un-love pride and self-sufficiency, and how much You really love humility of heart and trust in You (Proverbs 3:5-6). I am full of praise as You lead me to become less selfish and more faithful as You walk me through the rest of my life.