A Perfect Day

A frequently heard suggestion for "living right" is to start each morning by saying out loud, "This is going to be a wonderful day." Not bad advice, really, unless you demand that "wonderful" include every tiny aspect of said day. Those of us with perfectionist tendencies can get surly even about inarguably good things, if they don't fit our prewritten "scripts." ("What's the big idea serving gourmet cheesecake when I had my heart set on a chocolate chip cookie?")

Probably a better saying for Christians to start their days with is the Bible verse "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it" (Ps. 118:24, NIV, 1984 edition). But many of those to whom this verse is familiar have probably never read it in context. Psalm 118 as a whole is no idyllic pastoral meditation, but sets a scene of "anguish," hard battles, and severe "chastening." The writer rejoices because God delivered him out of trouble, even from near death. He never complains because God didn't stop things from going that far.

There's someone from whom those inclined to grumble over traffic jams could take a lesson.

Do you hope this will be a perfect day?
Has there ever been such a thing?
Does not every day in this fallen world
At least one disappointment bring?
Are you tempted to find some tiny flaw
And to let it ruin all the rest
Of your day? Do you curse the smallest pain
For disturbing your "perfect" quest?

Even Christ Himself, when He walked on earth,
Knew frustration and stress and strain, 
And He did not come to remove all such,
But to show us where loss is gain.
When we walk with Him, He will give us strength
To be faithful, and watch and pray,
Till we all stand pure, at the end of time,
In our God's endless, perfect Day!

Paradise

How would you react if, while you were reading a familiar passage of Scripture, God's voice suddenly boomed from Heaven to ask how you were living up to those words? I've seen two versions of a skit where this happens on every line of the Lord's Prayer; not surprisingly, the person praying tried unsuccessfully to dodge "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors!"

Another "problem phrase" was one most Christians pray with unthinking enthusiasm under "normal" circumstances: "Thy Kingdom come." Do we want God's perfect world, forever free of hatred, pollution, and death--and an extra-large serving of foretaste on earth? Definitely! Are we prepared to accept that God's response to that request may be an assignment to get to work building the Kingdom? Most of us get a bit nervous here. We're like kids who beg Mom to fix their favorite dish but don't want to set the table, preferring to lie back and watch TV until called to indulge their pleasures.

Edmund Burke is credited with having said, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." As much as with deliberately malicious people, that applies with the general evils inherent in our world--and with the evil-vs.-good battle inside each of us. It's not that God couldn't make the world perfect without our help, but that it would be inherently contradictory for Him to make us perfect without our free-will cooperation. And the world can never be perfect while its inhabitants are morally imperfect--however much we want to believe that all we need is to be free of effort, hardship, and want.

Obviously, we can't be completely free of any of the above, or of the evil in our own natures, in this life. But neither does God want us to sit idly by and wait for Him to bring in the final Kingdom.

We'll enjoy it--and the trip there--all the more if we work while we wait.

Somewhere beyond the frenzied crowd,
Some place where noise is not so loud,
Where air is fresh and skies are clear,
And nature close throughout the year,
With nights so black a thousand stars
Are seen with Jupiter and Mars,
And winters tinged with silvery ice—
I call that earthly Paradise.

The place where dreams for all come true,
Where all do what they’re made to do,
Where each finds joy in daily tasks,
Help comes to everyone who asks,
And no one’s made to feel alone,
And each one has a loving Home,
None need reminders to be nice—
Will come someday, in Paradise.

But such a place, within this world
Where stress and hate and pain are hurled,
Still seems at best a lovely dream—
And yet, as sure as sunshine's gleam,
Such things will yet one day come true:
And God wants all who dream to do,
Not simply wish nor give advice.
Awaiting future Paradise.

Let's work for what we'll someday see,
For God has tasks for you and me.
So smile today at someone new;
Pick up some trash not left by you;
Put others' needs before your own;
Console the one who sits alone;
Stand for the right at any price—
Show every day God's Paradise.

If I Could Live a Thousand Years

Futurist Ray Kurzweil co-authored a book called Fantastic Voyage: Live Long Enough to Live Forever. Among other things, he recommended taking 250 nutritional-supplement pills a day, getting weekly purges at an alternative-medicine clinic, avoiding the use of cell phones, and completely eliminating sugar from the diet--all in the name of living indefinitely longer.

One reviewer's comment: "I can see how it might seem a lot longer!"

Living 100+ years in excellent health always sounds like a good deal until someone brings up the price tag of increased inconvenience, possible discomfort, or giving up your favorite pleasures. Most people would rather dream the impossible dream of a pill they could take every night to reset their health to "perfect," leaving their days free to eat, drink, and be merry. And yet, there are those who live pretty much like that, who get everything they want, who have yet to suffer any unpleasant consequences--and yet are bored with life to the point of being suicidal. Ultimately, everyone needs a better reason to live than simply being afraid to die.

Enter Jesus and His offer of John 10:10b: "I have come that [you] may have life, and have it to the full." Not necessarily life in the sense of more and healthier years on earth, nor only life in the sense of eternal existence in Heaven; but life in the sense of being everything we were meant to be, of enjoying with unmixed gratitude every good thing we have, of taking delight in the most mundane of duties because we see eternal purpose behind them. Above all, life in the sense of being free to love God and others with all that is in us. There are those who seem to have been already blessed to have fully learned this secret of living life to the full, who are always bursting with joy and passion, who seem impossible to discourage by any dire prediction or adverse circumstance.

For most people, even sincere Christians, it's an uphill battle to reach that point. Many of us may never come close this side of Heaven. But it should encourage us to know what we have to look forward to.

If I could live a thousand years
And drink of every dream on earth,
Completely free of mortal fears
Through every moment from my birth,
If I had all the pleasure-things
That earthly days could ever give--
Yet never knew the joy God brings,
I never would be blessed to live.

If I knew that tomorrow's sun
Would rise to find my soul had passed
To other realms beyond this one,
If my last hours were flying fast,
If but one day remained for me--
Would I have strength to stand the test?
Would I rejoice to be set free,
With faith that I had served God's best?

Lord, I may live a hundred years
Or see Your face this very day;
I cannot tell how many tears
And joys remain; I only pray
That what I show to You might be,
Once I leave earth forevermore,
A life that served not only me,
But showed the way to Heaven's door.

Somewhere Beyond

Not only is death the enemy of humanity in general (1 Cor. 15:26), but many of us go through periods where it seems to hold a personal grudge against us. Recently, I've gotten to the point I dread answering phone calls from relatives: half a dozen of my parents' old friends, plus three family members, have passed on since 2006; and as many relatives again are struggling with serious health problems, at least one potentially terminal. For all that, I suspect that many people--faced with the senseless murder of a child, or a vehicle crash that took an entire family in one blow--would willingly trade places with me.

Many people react to death by wanting to die themselves; loss of a loved one is a frequent motive for suicide. Others don't need that much of an excuse. The ultimate escape can start to look attractive for the most trivial reasons; more than one suicide note has said something to the effect of "I can't take all this stress anymore" or "I failed and I can't live with it." Psychology Today reported in 2005 that perfectionists have a high suicide rate because "They think that if life isn't perfect, then it's worthless. Get rid of it." One mark of perfectionism is the feeling that we can get everything under control if only we try hard enough, and that if life is a disappointment in any way, we must be guilty of the sin of sloth and have to do penance by trying harder. (I can state from personal experience that it's even possible to be a perfectionist about getting rid of perfectionism; if you laughed at that without also being tempted to cry, I envy you your lack of perfectionism!) Since we aren't God, we're trying to do the impossible and will eventually break under the strain.

The craving and striving for perfection, whether in ourselves, others, or life in general, will invariably disappoint us because this world hasn't been perfect since the day of the forbidden fruit. We tend to see God's promising Adam and Eve lifelong hardship in return for that snack (Gen. 3:16-19) as pure punishment; but perhaps it was also an act of mercy. Had they continued to live in comfort once their souls were tainted with sin, they might never have returned to God because life might not have seemed so bad without Him. It's the prodigal who's been reduced to living in the pig pen, not the playboy who still has money nor the dutiful son still at home, who realizes the full depths of the wages of sin and can finally experience the Father's embrace of love.

The ultimate experience of that embrace, of course, waits for the life beyond this one where things finally will be invariably, unspoilably perfect. Though we may not yet believe that with all our hearts, it's far greater consolation in pain than is feeling guilty because we can't "fix things" ourselves.

Somewhere beyond the sky above there is a Heavenly land
In which our loved ones gone before have found eternal peace;
And someday when our years are done, we'll go to be with them
In that bright world beyond our world when pain will finally cease.

Somewhere beyond this world of time there is a Heavenly land
Where all who dwell are ever strong and beautiful and young;
And someday when our bodies end their work, they'll be remade
In that bright world beyond our world where all the blessed come.

Somewhere beyond this world of toil there is a Heavenly land
Where all the work is purest joy through service to our Lord;
And someday when we rest at last, we'll worship Him alone
In that bright world beyond our world where endless grace is poured.

Passages

Having recently returned from a week-and-a-half trip to North America's Pacific Northwest, I now have a week of medical appointments before I can seriously consider resuming a regular work schedule. Once we in the industrialized world pass age forty, it sometimes seems that we spend as much time in doctors' offices when healthy as when sick. The price tag of increased maturity is the need to actually start taking care of ourselves.

And not only in matters of physical well-being. One rite of passage escaped by few is the day when we can no longer take life for granted. Most of us have our first experiences in that area long before officially growing up. The three-year-old wails with disappointment on being told that Mom or Dad, who always seemed able to "take care of everything," cannot reverse the cancellation of a favorite television program; the eight-year-old broods in despair when a thunderstorm breaks just before a much-anticipated picnic. Other youngsters suffer far more shattering shocks: a friend dies of a rare illness; a parent announces "I won't be living here anymore" and disappears forever; or, worse, parents are divorcing and no one wants the kid. And though many people survive childhood and adolescence without experiencing such severe pain, for anyone who lives more than a decade or two the day almost inevitably comes when job loss, severe illness, betrayal, or the death of a loved one makes the emotional foundations of life tremble.

For other people, the shakeup comes so insidiously that it's hardly felt until it's over; the definition of "mid-life crisis" is waking up one morning and realizing that one has passed the age when a long-cherished dream has much chance of ever becoming reality. William Herbert Carruth (1859-1924) described in poetry the path of disillusionment that eats many lives bit by bit (the full text is under "Ghosts of Dreams" at http://theotherpages.org/poems/carruth1.html):

The heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead....
The youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead....
There's not much to do but to bury a man,
When the last of his dreams is dead.

Thank God that for His people the latter years of life need not be sacrificed in mourning what will never come to be. Not only does God have plans for us far greater than we ever imagined, but He will accept even those who wait until their physical lives are all but over to come to Him--and He will make something unfathomably beautiful out of what seemed the total waste of their lives. As Joel 2:25a (NIV) puts it, He "will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten."

The results won't always be obvious in this world. But with God, the real world is still to come.

To most children this life seems boundless
And real change is a distant dream,
And an innocence rules that endures until
The first loss cuts through joy's bright gleam.

When we're young, those we love surround us,
And we trust them us to guide us on;
And life's first sharp pain stabs into the heart
When someone whom we loved is gone.

As we grow into men and women,
Youth's bright hope makes the world seem grand,
Yet the joy still is marred as from time to time
Loved ones pass to an unseen land.

As the years of our lives move onward,
Muscles weaken and hairs grow gray,
And we grieve for more loss, and we know for sure
That we also must go some day.

When the innocent gleam of childhood
Has been dulled in our aging eyes,
Even in our joy lives a hint of pain
And the knowledge each earth-thing dies.

Once our much-loved elders have left us
And few friends of our youth remain,
We look in our own children's trusting eyes
And we weep for their coming pain.

Yet as we mourn our earth-days' passing,
A new light burns more bright within,
As our love of this life slowly moves aside
For a vision beyond its end.

Like our childhood dreams returning,
But now brighter and far more pure,
We can see at last, with a wiser gaze,
The true world where joy will endure--

That great world that is truly boundless,
Where this life is a distant dream,
Where all live on forever young and strong
In the light of God's Heavenly gleam.

Those we love will once more surround us
When "goodbye" is a long-dead word,
When we regain more than we ever lost,
Where no sob of despair is heard.

When at last we are called to that Kingdom,
Those we leave will mourn as we part;
But they too will follow and join us all
In the place closest to God's heart!

The Day of Perfect Rest

As those of you who read last week's blog may have gathered, May was an extremely stressful month for me. Not all the stress was from negative happenings--a good bit came from an overdose of new work assignments and possibilities--but even "good stress" takes its toll on the mind and body. Yet many people seem convinced that stress is 100 percent beneficial. Tell professional contacts you've been really busy, and they respond, "That's great!" without even asking what exactly you're doing or whether it's been hard on you. Tell the average hardworking U. S. citizen you might seriously consider a full month's vacation (which is still considered normal in parts of Europe), and you get a disbelieving "how can anyone be so lazy?" look. A Google search for the phrase "rest is a four-letter word" turned up more than 250 results. Most of them decrying the attitude, as do quite a few voices in the wilderness these days, but they seem to have little overall effect on the idea that working ourselves to death is a virtue.

To be fair, the Bible commands periodic rest and condemns laziness. Human judgment is as flawed here as anywhere else, so left to ourselves we quickly slide to one extreme or the other. Even carefully measuring the ideal balance between work and rest, and setting our schedules accordingly, doesn't always help: we play with Web surfing and idle chatter during our "work" time; we allow striving and fretting to interfere with our "leisure" time; and we grumble when "worship" time doesn't begin and end precisely on schedule. Even if such fleshly attitudes are under control, the world and the devil can still invade our rest time with interruptions and unpleasant circumstances. We may wonder why God doesn't always reward our best intentions by protecting us from such things.

While there's no easy answer to that question, we have to remember that the perfect life, where work and rest are always in balance, will come only after we leave this world--and that getting too close to peace and happiness here is often the first step toward spiritual backsliding. The more any earthly thing seems to satisfy all our needs, the greater is the danger of turning that thing into an emotional idol.

Our restless moments here can actually be God's most effective tools for keeping our eyes looking toward the world to come.

We have in this lifetime our trials and troubles,
We have in this lifetime temptation and test,
We have in this lifetime our strivings and struggles,
Till the day of perfect rest.

The Lord gave us nighttime for sleeping and slumber,
And each week the Sabbath, the day that He blessed;
But even in such can come cares in large number,
Till the day of perfect rest.

Among all the weight of a lifetime's distractions,
Among all the hard times that on us can press,
The best that we have is faint hints and small fractions
Of the day of perfect rest.

Oh, heart! cease your strivings and look to your Master,
The One Who has promised relief in distress:
Your true, perfect freedom draws near ever faster,
In the day of perfect rest.

Oh, Lord! for Your day of revealing we're yearning,
That day when You finally will bring all Your best,
Where peace will be endless and pain unreturning:
Come, and bring Your perfect rest!

Who Can Forget Those Moments?

We all have certain memories so intense that, even decades later, our minds can see them as clearly as in the moment they happened. Some are a pleasure to relive: a brilliant sunrise or rainbow; a clear night in the country; a first kiss; the best birthday present ever. But there are equally vivid memories that we wish came with "Delete" buttons: a roomful of classmates taunting "Stupid, ugly loser!"; words of cold contempt from a youthful love interest; an employer's angry scolding in front of half the office.

The actual events may or may not have been particularly significant overall. But they all have one thing in common: they are accompanied by intense emotion. Apparently the human brain is so wired that vivid feelings trigger "burning" of accompanying events into the conscious memory--not a function without practical use. A moment of intense fear or guilt may well "leave a mark" that keeps a person from doing some foolish thing a second time.

But most negative memories have less-than-positive aftereffects. Many people live under a constant burden of guilt for past mistakes, convinced they have permanently rendered themselves unfit to accomplish anything worthwhile. Even positive memories can have negative effects; there are people who waste decades of present moments trying to recapture, or brooding over the loss of, some moment now past. The mid-life affair with someone who "makes me feel young again"; the post-bereavement mourning and seclusion that drags on for years; the endless complaining that "nothing ever measures up" to a "past perfect" experience--all are examples.

The Bible has a lot to say about "right" and "wrong" remembering. "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the LORD your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm," Moses exhorted the Israelites (Dt. 5:15, NIV). "I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago," sang the Psalmist Asaph (Ps. 77:11). Conversely, Paul speaks of "forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (Phil. 3:13), and God Himself says of His repentant people, "I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more" (Heb. 8:12). It seems that God would have us remember the good He has done--and forget the evil we and others have done.

Doing the first item is actually key to overcoming our frequently intense difficulties with the second. While we may never completely rid our minds of troublesome memories, we can displace unpleasant thoughts from the center of constant attention by bringing better ones to the forefront. And a good place to start, when it comes to burning the good memories firmly into our brains, is to make a list of God's blessings--past, present, and future. If anyone has trouble, rereading the Bible with an eye out for God's promises and expressions of love should help.

One thing worth always remembering is not to take our all-powerful, all-caring, all-sufficient God for granted.

Who can forget those moments
When joy runs deep and pure:
An evening with a loved one;
Days when success is sure;
A view of gentle beauty;
A shining touch of light:
Who can forget those moments
When everything is right?

Who can forget those moments
When pain stabs sharp and strong:
An agonizing illness;
Some great unpunished wrong;
A mocking word of anger;
A graveyard in the rain:
Who can forget those moments
When all seems grief and pain?

Who can forget those moments
When God is clearly seen:
A rainbow, or a flower;
The springtime's budding green;
A stirring note of music:
Think on what God has given,
And take time to remember
Those moments sweet with Heaven.

Something More

This past weekend, Houston residents were blessed with what even a cynical soul like myself called perfect weather: two days without a cloud in sight; fresh air; low humidity; and temperatures ranging from slightly chilly to shirt-sleeve. If you ever visit this part of Texas, plan your trip for this time of the year, when outdoor conditions are at the peak of comfort and the birds and wildflowers at their most attractive.

Most of us experience, from time to time, the joy of a "perfect day." Depending on your own taste, that can mean anything from a drive in the country to a grand tour of downtown to a holiday dinner with extended family. However they come wrapped, all "perfect days" have certain things in common: they are unusually free of frustrations and annoyances; they make us forget to watch the clock; and the only regret they leave us with is that they didn't last forever.

Mixed, perhaps, with the regret that they are so rare. By the mere act of standing out, the "perfect" times in our lives are also one more proof of how imperfect the world is as a whole. Maybe that explains those moments when, in the middle of spectacularly beautiful or happy events, we feel sudden bursts of melancholy pain that seem to come unprovoked from nowhere. We can talk all we want about the advantages of less perfect times--they build character, they help us appreciate the good days all the more by contrast--but deep down, we all long for a "perfect day" we will never have to say goodbye to.

Eve gave up our first chance at that possibility when she allowed herself to be tempted into dissatisfaction even in the midst of perfection. We can be grateful that God loved us too much to let that first chance be the last:

"...the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Rom. 8:21-23, NIV). And of the rest of Creation.

Then, all who trust God will finally have that perfect day with no end.

There are few greater joys than a fresh spring day
When the sky is a cloudless blue,
When the air holds a mixture of warmth and chill
And the flowers and the leaves are new.
But if you pause and open your deepest soul
To the beauty of spring's full store,
You will sense a faint ache hidden in the joy,
And a longing for something more.

There are few greater joys than to share a love
With your family or with a friend,
Than to know there is someone you truly trust,
Someone on whom you can depend.
But if you pause and feel in your deepest heart
All that flows as two souls adore,
You will sense faint regret that you yet must part,
And a longing for something more.

All of earth's brightest days pass like setting suns;
And in any two souls that love,
One will die or change heart and so break the bond
At some time in the years that move.
But if you give your soul and your heart to God,
Then one day, on His Heavenly shore,
You will find in Him joy with no hint of ache:
He Himself is our Something More!

There's a Blowout Celebration God Has Waiting

How many Christmas parties and holiday events are you planning on attending this month? Many of us are invited to, or hear of, enough possibilities to take up every minute of our spare time!

While too much celebrating can produce undesirable effects, such as bloated stomachs and no quiet time for rejoicing in the true hope and peace of Christmas, there is certainly no Scriptural warrant for the idea that having a good time is in itself sinful. Jesus Himself likened the homecoming of God's children to a party with feasting and dancing (cf. Lk. 15:22-27). If Heaven celebrates whenever one soul is saved, there must be a party like no other planned for the time when all the saints are gathered for eternity.

Some people, who perhaps have met too many dour "Christians" and who can't picture a good time without rowdiness and drunkenness, figure they'd actually enjoy hell more than Heaven. Perhaps you've heard the story--usually circulated as an e-mail joke--about the salesman who died, was told he could choose where to go, and was shown a vision of Heaven as an "okay" but rather boring place, and then hell as a barroom where everyone was smoking and drinking and having a great time. He chose the latter place--and was promptly thrown into a pit of fire. When he protested that this was nothing like what he had been shown, he was told that "as a salesman you should have known better than to believe everything you saw in a demonstration." Satan has many people falling for that "demonstration" in real life--and it isn't funny.

In the end, a self-centered striving for maximum pleasure brings nothing but misery. We only enjoy ourselves to the fullest when we share our happiness with God and our loved ones.

That's what Heaven is all about.

There's a blowout celebration God has waiting
For the time when we will see earth's troubles end,
For the time when death and every pain will vanish
And we'll gather for a party with our Friend;
At that time all true believers will be seated
At the table of our God and Lord and Host,
And we'll feast and sing and celebrate forever,
To the praise of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

There's a banquet God's preparing for consumption:
Heavenly Manna that will make a Living Bread;
Living Water flowing from an endless fountain,
Flowing from our Lord and God, our Living Head;
Wine of cleansing, squeezed by His own hands to fill us;
And the fruit that grows upon Life's holy Tree:
There's a blowout celebration God has waiting,
For the day He sets us all completely free.

There's a blowout celebration God has waiting,
One that never will see song or music end,
That will never know the tears and ache of parting,
Where no hurt or pain will ever come again;
There's a party where we'll celebrate forever--
Nothing that this world can offer will compare--
There's a blowout celebration God has waiting,
And I hope, when I arrive, to see you there.

"Thy Kingdom Come"

Anyone who has ever read the Gospels is familiar with the phrases "Kingdom of God" and "Kingdom of Heaven" (one or the other of the two expressions occurs nearly 100 times in the NIV New Testament). And your church may well be one of the many that each week pray "Thy Kingdom come" as they recite the Lord's Prayer. Yet how many of us, living in today's free and prosperous societies, are really as eager to see the coming of the Kingdom as were the early believers? Is our honest reaction to the idea of Christ's return "the sooner the better," or do we secretly hope He waits at least a decade or two so we won't be kept from enjoying the dream trips or perfect retirements we're saving for? Do we really look forward to seeing all evil and pain permanently driven out, or do we harbor misgivings that a perfect world might be a little boring, devoid of drama and excitement?

In this current world (not to mention in any great work of fiction), success and satisfaction depends so heavily on winning against powerful odds that, notwithstanding the pleasure we take in a day to relax or a "happily ever after" ending, many of us find it hard to imagine permanent rest as an altogether good thing. Someone has even written an allegory where the hero goes after death to a place where every wish is instantly granted--and eventually comes to realize that he is not in Heaven but in hell. No, most of us don't really want to spend forever lying on a couch eating bonbons, or "sitting on a cloud strumming a harp."

But is that really all there is to Heaven? After all, there was work--presumably including some hard work--in the world before the Fall (Gen. 2:15). Nor does the thrill of competition and challenge require real enemies as opponents: ask any child who has had a wonderful day playing outdoors with friends. Jesus said that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the children and the childlike (e. g., Luke 18:16); wouldn't the experience of Heaven, then, be like a child's concept of the perfect day--full of freedom to play hard, to laugh with pure delight, to enjoy the company of friends and to make all the noise and expend all the energy one pleases? The eternal, dour church service many people imagine as Heaven--which seems superior to hell only in being the lesser of two evils--could hardly be more different.

We don't yet know many specific details about Heaven. But we can be certain that those who go there will never compare it unfavorably with the present life.

There are kingdoms of wealth
And kingdoms of power
And kingdoms where pleasure reigns,
But only the Kingdom
Beyond this world
Is free from the sin that stains.
Each of us would rule
As a king or queen
And would build our own throne of pride,
But the greatest Kingdom
Has but one King,
And we must be servants inside.

There are kingdoms of greed
Where deluded souls
Would see God grant their every whim;
There are "pinnacle kingdoms"
All built on show
And in going out on a limb;
There are kingdoms galore
Where for earthly gain
People bow to the devil's ways;
But let me fix my eyes
On the Kingdom of God,
Who alone is worthy of praise.

The Rainbow Song

According to Genesis 9:12-15, God created rainbows to signify His covenant of mercy, as a promise to never again before the end of the world send as catastrophic a judgment as the Great Flood. Centuries later, Ezekiel saw the glory of God "like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day" (Ez. 1:28, NIV); and the book of Revelation (4:3; 10:1) portrays rainbows as surrounding the majesties of Heaven. Even without fantastic visions, those glorious bands of colored light, seeming to form a bridge between earth and sky, have long served as a means of raising human eyes to the Creator.

Although rainbows have received some bad press in recent decades because of their popularity as New Age symbols, the fact that some people "exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator" (Rom. 1:25) does not nullify the fact that " everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving" (1 Tim. 4:4). This is especially true of natural beauty, which can move our hearts in special ways--if we let it. Many people miss the rainbow because they are too busy watching their feet, trying to avoid the puddles left by the rain. Worse, many people keep their eyes so firmly fixed at ground level that they hardly know whether the weather is sunny or cloudy.

If you've been one of those people, try making a conscious effort to look up more often. You may be amazed at some of the views God has waiting for you!

(He in fact has a pretty good one scheduled for early this very evening; read the details here.)

There's a band within the rainbow that's as red as any blood;
And God, the great Creator, is the Source of all that's good.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

There's a band within the rainbow that's as orange as the fruit;
And Jesus, our great Savior, sprang to birth from David's root.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

There's a band within the rainbow that's as yellow as the sun;
And we all are fit for Heaven through the work our Lord has done.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

There's a band within the rainbow that's as green as any tree;
And Jesus, our Great Savior, gave His life for you and me.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

There's a band within the rainbow that's as blue as any sky;
And Jesus, our great Savior, loved us all enough to die.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

There's a band within the rainbow that's as purple as deep wine;
And Jesus, our great Savior, is our power-inducing Vine.

And God sent our Lord Jesus to make us pure and free;
Light and water make the rainbow, that great sign for all who see.

Visions of Heaven

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving--and I'm very thankful that, after ten days and three service calls, the cable problems that cut off my Internet service have at last been fixed. We don't need to suffer major tragedies to be convinced we live in an imperfect world; nearly every "normal" day has at least one frustrating moment that can tempt us to curse life.

God's refusal to completely remove hindrances from our existence is, whether we appreciate it or not, for our own good. Not only does struggle build character (cf. Heb. 12:5-11); it keeps us from getting too fond of this world where we are "aliens and strangers" (1 Peter 2:11; Heb. 11:13). Jesus said that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" (Mt. 19:24, NIV), almost certainly because the rich are comfortable enough already and have trouble picturing even the Kingdom as being better. If relative comfort in this world can hinder a person's spiritual progress, how much damage might total comfort do?

Not that knowing this makes discomfort that much easier to bear. We needn't actually reach the point of being suicidal to have moments when we want to scream (or groan), "Take me out of this world; I can't stand it any longer!" This isn't necessarily a wrong attitude, if we're motivated by a genuine longing to see God's eternal Kingdom come (cf. Rom. 8:18-25), rather than by a selfish desire for personal relief. In fact, most Christians spend too much time praying about individual problems--and too little time praying for the return of Christ, which will put a permanent end to all problems and establish God's total rule once and for all.

From then on, every day will be Thanksgiving.

When, in this life, you have trouble,
And are crushed under evil's great load,
When every day is a struggle
And each hour brings new holes in your road,
Lift up your eyes to the Father
And ask Him to show you the view:
He still gives visions of Heaven,
Where everything will be made new.

When, in this life, you have plenty
And the load set upon you seems light,
When every day seems all beauty
And each hour brings new joys fresh and bright,
Still keep your eyes on the Father
And ask Him to show you the way:
He still gives visions of Heaven,
Far grander than earth's loveliest day.

Life, at its best, is but fleeting;
Yes, and life, at its worst, soon will end;
But Christ, through His death, has defeated
Death's dark power, for all who call Him Friend.
Lift up your eyes; it is coming,
That Day of God's glorious Light,
When all our visions of Heaven
Forever will change into sight!

Glimpses of Glory

Yesterday's entry touched on the concept of "be faithful with little things and God will trust you with bigger and bigger things." We understand how that principle works in connection with responsibilities, abilities, and property; but how many of us consider that it also applies to what God shows us of Himself? Most believers have, at one time or another, felt cheated because they didn't get to live in the times--rare as such times were even in Biblical history--when spectacular miracles and visions of God's glory apparently happened every day. (I'm not talking here about the skeptics who say they'd believe in God if they actually saw Him perform a miracle--and remain smugly satisfied that they never will--but about sincere Christians who struggle with doubts and uncertainties.)

Not that, if we did see obvious miracles, it would necessarily prove a permanent cure for doubts and complaining--anyone who thinks it would should read the book of Exodus again. Too many of us are so busy whining that God never breaks into our lives in spectacular ways, that we're blind to the little glimpses of Himself He provides every day. When was the last time most of us contemplated God's craftmanship in a wildflower, or thanked Him for giving us air to breathe, or realized that He inspires the small kindnesses others show us?

If we can't worship God in the little things, we have no right to demand He show us big things.

Does God still work His wonders?
Lift up your eyes and see:
Observe the sky at sunrise,
The branches of a tree,
The might of wind and thunder,
And you will know: each hour,
Each aspect of Creation,
Gives glimpses of God's power.

Does God still care for mortals?
Take heart and look around:
Count every tiny blessing
That in each life is found;
Observe how rain and sunshine
Flow freely from above:
Each aspect of Provision
Gives glimpses of God's love.

Can there be hope for mortals
When all the world seems dark?
Look deep within your being,
And feel the Spirit's spark:
We all still bear God's image,
The breath of life He's given;
And every heartfelt longing
Gives glimpses of His Heaven.

The Stars above Sing the Might of the Lord

The following poem is a pantoum, which means that its basic structure is built on the repetition of lines. In poetry and song, a surprising amount of variety and beauty can be generated by using certain elements over and over.

Perhaps that's an example of how human creativity reflects God's image. Much of Creation's beauty is surprising in its consistency. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if the sky showed a totally different number and layout of stars every night? What if the sun rose in a different part of the sky each morning, birds changed their feathers and songs from day to day, and rainbows regularly shuffled and intermixed their colors? Would we appreciate the variety? Or get bored quickly, as do many spoiled children showered with endless toys?

Maybe our reaction would be uneasiness; it might be hard to believe that "the Father of the heavenly lights... does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17, NIV) if He kept rearranging those "heavenly lights" drastically and obviously. If He regularly changed His mind about how His firmament should look, who's to say He might not change His mind about more complicated matters, such as whether to keep His promises to us? Even on the human-to-human relational level, it's a lot easier to trust someone who is basically consistent than someone who has a history of unpredictable reactions.

Granted, people who always tell the same stories or keep harping on the same theme are boring. But even more than with poetry, human beings display a surprising amount of variety within their consistency. And a surprising amount of depth within the basics.

God is even more like that. Maybe that's why it's a lot harder to get bored exploring nature than watching television.

You don't hear many people complaining about "having to look at the same old stars tonight."

The stars above sing the might of the Lord:
Though they have no voice at all to give sound,
They speak of His power without a word,
For their beauty is seen the world around.

Though they have no voice at all to give sound,
Their praise shines out plain to all eyes that will see,
For their beauty is seen the world around,
And they speak of great wonders still yet to be.

Their praise shines out plain to all eyes that will see,
Through the mark of the Power on which they depend;
And they speak of great wonders still yet to be,
On the day when the world that we know will end.

Through the mark of the Power on which they depend,
Human hearts can dream of a world to be;
On the day when the world that we know will end,
Greater joys await than our eyes now see.

Human hearts can dream of a world to be,
Yet without God's Word we would never know;
Greater joys await than our eyes now see,
For He Who prepares them has told us so.

Yet without God's Word we would never know;
Only through His love do we dare to dream,
For He Who prepares them has told us so,
Of a world beyond where pure joy will gleam.

Only through His love do we dare to dream,
And the light of His love outshines the stars;
Of a world beyond where pure joy will gleam,
We all have His Word of what will be ours.

And the light of His love outshines the stars--
They speak of His power without a word--
We all have His Word of what will be ours.
The stars above sing the might of the Lord.

My Heart Sings

Hopefully this is the last update I'll have to post on the power outage here. The electricity came back about 12:50 this afternoon.

Hopefully, also, those of us Houstonians who have or soon will have our service restored won't use it as an excuse to hide behind air-conditioned walls watching television and surfing the Internet, at the expense of enjoying the autumn weather that is just settling in. Anyone who has ever sweated through a Gulf Coast summer knows the arrival of a cooler season as one of God's greatest blessings. Standing under a cloudless sky on a crisp blue day, hair ruffled by a breeze carrying just a hint of chill, watching a kettle (flock) of migrating hawks soaring southward on the high winds, is one of life's finest pleasures.

The natural world in its full glory has inspired many a great hymn. A favorite of mine is "How Great Thou Art," which praises God not only for His marvelous Creation, but also for the greater wonders of redemption--not only of our individual souls, but eventually of the whole natural order.

After His full Kingdom comes, every day will be infinitely more beautiful than the present world's most colorful autumn day.

When I think of all of the wonders of Creation,
Of the stars that stretch beyond any mortal view,
And of the birds with their songs and gleaming feathers,
Of the sea and the sunrise and the sky so blue,

My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.

When I think of how our God became a mortal,
How He suffered and then died to redeem the lost,
How He spilled His blood for the sake of those who despised Him,
And found the most contemptible fate worth the cost,

My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.

When I think of the coming day that the Lord has promised,
When all pain and tears and death will dissolve and be no more,
When our God at last shall perfect us, as He is perfect,
And we all shall forever live on His holy shore,

My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.

Left Behind

St. Paul had this to say to the bereaved: "we do not want you... to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope" (1 Thess. 4:13, NIV). Yet the Bible does not, as some seem to believe, say that "Good Christians don't cry" at all. Even "Jesus wept" (John 11:35) at Lazarus's grave--despite knowing that He and Lazarus would meet again, not in Heaven years later, but on Earth in a few minutes.

Probably what brought tears to Jesus's eyes was not so much the brief separation from His friend as the pain of being in a world where death had to exist at all. Those who insist that weeping over a death indicates lack of faith in God's eternal provision, should consider that death is as contrary to God's plan for this world as is evil. And no one would claim that to get angry at evil indicates lack of faith in God's ultimate justice.

It is true that, as one proverb states, true Christians "never see each other for the last time"--hence we have the joy of hope to temper our grief and to protect us from sliding into despair. But the God Whose Scriptures urge us to long for Christ's ultimate coming, understands our tears when we are confronted with reminders that, in the meantime, the pains of this world often prevail.

He even weeps with us.

Where you've gone we cannot follow
Till the Father calls us, too;
While your troubles now are over--
There is no more pain for you--
For your loved ones here remaining
In this world where pains endure,
There's an ache of separation
Time can never wholly cure.
Though a wound itself be mended,
Yet the scar will still remain;
Though reunion's hope is certain,
There is still an aching pain.

God calls each who walk Earth's pathway
There to travel side by side;
Yet we cannot leave together;
It is only for our Guide
To lead each who take death's passage
All the way they go across,
And to hold the ones remaining
As we bear the pain of loss.
But we know the time is coming
When we too will cross death's sea
To the land where you are waiting,
Parted nevermore to be!

God's Kingdom

There are times when even the most vibrant spirit feels it can hardly take any more of this world. When conversations constantly turn toward rising prices, rumors of wars, environmental disaster, and imminent collapse of Social Security; when the doctor finds a tumor and you're already out of work with bills two weeks overdue; when To Do lists get so long that it seems the only hope for rest is to land in the hospital--then the prayer "Thy Kingdom come" takes on special urgency.

Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that--the Bible itself urges us to pray for Christ's coming (cf. Rev. 22:20). Life's troubles are actually a blessing in that they keep us from loving this world too much for our own good. But if our only motive for wanting the Kingdom to come is to see an end to our problems, the prayer intended to express a yearning for God's glory and righteousness becomes a cry of selfishness. Especially if we are unwilling to make the effort to be productive citizens of the Kingdom.

Heaven does not mean the privilege of lounging around on clouds forever; it means finally being able to worship and serve God with pure, untainted hearts and minds. Work existed in the Garden of Eden before the Fall (Gen. 2:15), so it's safe to assume that God will keep us busy in the future Kingdom. The difference will be freedom from frustration and reluctance; we will serve God with our all because we will love Him with our all.

It's a good idea to practice for that time right now. If your first thought tomorrow morning (and this can happen to "morning people" as well) is, "Do I have to get up?" try immediately replacing that thought with this one:

"God has wonderful things in store for me today, and I am so blessed to have the privilege of serving His Kingdom."

There's a crown for every servant
In a land with just one King;
It's a place where least is greatest,
And to work a joyous thing;
It's a Kingdom where the wisest
Is as trusting as a child,
And a world where every question
Will at last be reconciled.

It's God's country, everlasting,
Where all pain at last will end,
Each of us a prince or princess,
Every stranger turned a friend.
If you wish to seek this Kingdom
Where all saints one day will stand,
Use your earthly life to practice
All the servant-love you can.

Time Lost

I'm in a rush right now (what else is new?), so today's entry may go unedited. Which is one reason I chose a poem on "time."

Paul tells us to "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is" (Eph. 5:15-17, NIV). In other words, don't throw away the time God gives you by spending it on anything besides what He most wants you to be doing.

Easier said than done, I know. Especially since God rarely drops His preferred schedule for each day into our e-mailboxes. Sometimes it seems that, if we are serious about God's will, we have to spend more time seeking it than doing it.

But maybe that's the point. We Americans, with our "always-producing" mindset, tend to forget that God has an even higher priority than our building successful ministries or writing bestselling books. Most of all, He wants a personal relationship with each of us--the kind that can only be achieved by spending time with Him through worship and prayer.

Even basically good things can crowd out God's best. Joanna Weaver's book Having a Mary Spirit gives the author's account of having to cut back on one "favorite thing" to seek God's best:

"I was a binge reader. Which meant one [Christian novel] right after another.... my drug of choice, my escape valve from stress or monotony... So when God asked me to embark on a yearlong fiction fast, I nearly hyperventilated.... I could feel the rationalizations lining up in my heart, eager to present their case before God. At the same time, I could feel grace being released in my heart. Grace to obey. Grace to let go.... [And] God began awakening in me a new hunger for His Word--and I actually had time to partake!... I began walking in a freedom I'd never experienced before.... My fiction fast... lasted a full four years. Not so much because God demanded it, but because I simply didn't desire it. The hunger had been filled by running to His Word rather than running away in my mind" (pp. 190-191, 193).

I'm addicted to reading myself, though my tastes run more toward nonfiction and my problem more toward "cram in all the knowledge you can as fast as you can--life is short." So Weaver's story helped me decide what to give up for Lent this year; I'm going to limit my days-off reading to 200 pages per day. (Believe me, in my case that is a drastic cut!) Will let you know how it works out.

The river of time rushes onward,
And, however our tears may flow,
We cannot make the current run backwards
Or retrieve one drop we let go.

The hands of the clock move forward,
And no tool can reverse their spin,
For life's clock is beyond all our powers
To reset or to wind again.

The progress of strength is downward
Once the prime of our lives is past;
Though our health may remain many seasons,
Yet the end must arrive at last.

But the people of God's own Kingdom
Need not fear to cross death's wide sea,
For we know pains of time will be melted
In the light of Eternity!

Hidden but Not Gone

The weather here in Houston has been rainy and gloomy most of the week. As the sky goes, so goes the average person's mood. If the day is dark, so are our spirits. If the sun is shining and the sky is brilliant blue, we expect the day to be wonderful.

Unless, of course, something painful or tragic is happening to us--in which case a beautiful day can seem a mockery. After being informed of a loved one's death or serious illness, many people want to scream, "How can you possibly be happy?!" at everyone they see smiling. Most of us, if we have to suffer unhappiness, would rather live by the motto "Misery loves company" than by "Cry and you cry alone."

Of course, the sun doesn't really stop shining just because our section of sky is full of thunderheads. Indeed, a good bit of sunlight still gets through--very few days are so dark that we need artificial light outdoors at noon. So it is with emotional darkness. We may not see or feel God anywhere in the face of tragedy, but His light is still leading us, keeping us from fumbling, tripping, or becoming totally lost.

And sometimes, after the worst is past, we realize that "it was good for [us] to be afflicted so that [we] might learn [God's] decrees" (Ps. 119:71, NIV)--that our joy is ultimately deepened by the struggle.

When the day is dark and cloudy,
When all trace of light seems gone,
Not a ray may show, not a glimmer:
But the sun still shines beyond.

When the day gives way to nighttime,
Though no light may reach our eyes,
Still, elsewhere in the world, it's daylight:
And in time our sun will rise.

Though we may not feel God with us,
Though our hope and faith grow dim,
He will guide us still in our journey,
When our hearts are fixed on Him.

Though this world may seek to lure us
With those things our eyes can see,
May the eyes of our hearts look farther,
To the one true life to be.

Goodbye Will Never Be the Final Word

I wrote the following song-poem after my father died unexpectedly in August 2006. The best comfort--the only true comfort--in losing our loved ones to the grave is the knowledge that the separation is only temporary, that "those who hope in Christ never see each other for the last time" (my paraphrase-translation of a "German motto," exact source uncertain).

St. Paul said it best, as he so often does: "We do not want you to... grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.... And so we will [all] be [together] with the Lord forever" (1 Thess. 4:13-14, 17b, NIV; see also 1 Cor. 15).

There is nothing un-Christian about mourning the death of those we love; even Jesus did that (John 11:32-36). But we must not let grief rob us of hope or of our own will to live. For the Christian, death is merely the door that leads to real, lasting life; for a believer to shun it would be as foolish as a newborn refusing to leave the dark constriction of the womb and enter into the larger world. There is where the true light is; there is where our real growth and potential begins.

"Therefore encourage each other with these words" (1 Thess. 4:18).

You left us when we scarcely were expecting it,
And no power on earth can fully soothe the pain,
But the One True Source of Comfort still remains with us,
And the day will come when we'll be with you again.

For I know
That our God is faithful,
And I know
That our prayers are heard,
And I know
That for those who hope in Him,
Goodbye will never be the final word.

Our hearts still ache from the bitter sting of losing you,
And our souls long for that world no eye can see,
But our Father watches us all while we are apart,
And one day we'll be together eternally.

For I know
That our God is faithful,
And I know
That our prayers are heard,
And I know
That for those who hope in Him,
Goodbye will never be the final word.

For I know
That our God is faithful,
And I know
That our prayers are heard,
And I know
That for those who hope in Him,
Goodbye will never be the final word.