Yesterday a close family to Rachel and her parents lost their son, to a cancer he had been fighting for years. I hope I have the details right, but at five he was diagnosed with leukemia, and in the subsequent six or seven years it had been an on-again, off-again battle, from the edge of life back to recovering well.
I remember as I was dating Rachel and into our marriage each time her mom would give us updates on little Riley. I remember each time hope laced her words, and when a reserved pain edged through. The strange thing about this is I had never met Riley. By the worlds standards he should have no affect on my life. Yet hearing of his family's godliness and never ending patience, and his outlook on his own life and situation, is hitting me in an unexpected way. He is(not was) the youngest of a house of brothers, and I know earlier this week all of his brothers stayed with him at the hospital overnight. I'm picturing pillow feathers and Jell-o, but I can't verify these claims.
Hearing of his parents constant faithfulness to God is a vivid example of not only their undying love for Him, but how He fully transforms us make Him our first love. I have Kara and Noah, and, granted, I've only been given two years with Kara, but I am so absolutely head-over-heels in love with that little girl. I know that as time goes by that love will only grow, and has multiplied with Noah being brought into the mix. Hearing of a family of(I believe) five boys, I simply cannot imagine the pain they are bearing right now. My heart simply gives up, because you would never imagine life without those two little squirrels in my home. How simple it would be to blame God, to turn our backs on Him.
And yet I think of what I have heard of a family I've never met. The only consolation I could think is that Riley is not only NOT in a constant pain anymore, but he is gazing on our most holy Savior right now. He has accepted his inheritance, and is in the presence of the Creator of the universe. Now we can envy his life. Now we can sit and weep for joy at what he has before him, and what we(as believers) have before us. And we are so blessed that we don't need to worry about his destination. That lucky little boy, to meet our Saving Grace! And to spend eternity with him. He has a never ending joy in his life now. But we should keep Riley's parents and brothers in our thoughts and prayers, that God give them a supernatural grace in their day-to-day lives, and that they more and more understand His undying love for them at all time. A prayer we should ask for ourselves as well.
Praise be to God for Riley's life.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
A Convict Like Me
The sun is beating down on his shoulders. With downcast, squinted eyes he surveys his surroundings. A group of onlookers gather, looking curiously at the man and his outcome. Led by two large men on either side, he slowly staggers up the walkway, to stand before the throne. He shakily raises his eyes to the being sitting before him. The King looks down on him, with a knowing and ever watchful eye, expertly peeling back the layers of his psyche, and seeing this man's base desires and character. With a stoic and steady gaze, this King holds command of an immeasurable host. This is a King who has watched him since the inception of his being, watched him grow and lead his own life.
A King who watched this man turn his back on Him.
The man plead innocent, but his testimony was in the life he led, not the expertly-constructed speech he had prepared. He was unsurprisingly found guilty, after the King had reviewed his life, and recorded who he had lived his life for: himself. Now he found himself staring at his own end.
He heard a noise behind him. Turning, he sees a Man walking up beside him, in a circle meant only for traitors. He was a normal enough looking Man, one who had seen his share of pain and the tolls taken in a full life. Hardened soles from extensive walking, lines about his eyes from countless smiles in a joy-filled life, and an innate regal standing about Him. This Stranger looks at the King, a sense of knowing between them. The convict sees the look the King has watching at this Stranger. He recognizes this look. That King loves this new Man, in an indescribable way. What is He doing standing next to a filthy traitor to the Crown?
The Stranger gently lifts the convicts hands, and unclasps his shackles. Shaking, but deliberate, He locks them around His own wrist. The convict looks around wildly, trying to understand what is transpiring. The guards beckon him to leave his place before the King. As he turns his back and walks to a safer position, he hears the King suddenly call His judgment. When the convict glances back again, he sees the Stranger's body lying motionless on the floor. The convict races back to Him, to see what has happened, and who this Man was, that He might take this man's stead. On His still face, the Stranger has a quiet smile played on His lips. One of an inside joy, that others would be hard-pressed to decipher.
Looking up, the convict sees the King's face. Instead of seeing a wrathful gaze upon him, as before, he sees a smile too big for description, the kind that lose control of the tears building on the edge of the eye. A gaze he is sure of that is not meant for looking upon him. A gaze he saw given to the Stranger before His deliberate decision.
As understanding slowly comes to the convict, he recognizes the body on the floor. A man that likewise commands the very forces of nature. A man who's place belongs next to the King. His very own Son. His Savior, from the brink of death itself.
His life, a useless waste of selfishness and ignorance, has been traded for the life of the Perfect Son, the only one to live up to the standard of perfection. He has been granted a life not worthy of him. He has been given a second opportunity to bring glory to his King.
Obviously this comparison has its limits, but I can't shake knowing full well that I have been given an inheritance beyond my understanding. We should all just spend a few moments right now, soberly mulling over the fact that a King has sent His Son, to take the place of sinners, for the sole fact that He chose it to be so, that He might be glorified, and that we might fall to our knees in awe of Him.
A King who watched this man turn his back on Him.
The man plead innocent, but his testimony was in the life he led, not the expertly-constructed speech he had prepared. He was unsurprisingly found guilty, after the King had reviewed his life, and recorded who he had lived his life for: himself. Now he found himself staring at his own end.
He heard a noise behind him. Turning, he sees a Man walking up beside him, in a circle meant only for traitors. He was a normal enough looking Man, one who had seen his share of pain and the tolls taken in a full life. Hardened soles from extensive walking, lines about his eyes from countless smiles in a joy-filled life, and an innate regal standing about Him. This Stranger looks at the King, a sense of knowing between them. The convict sees the look the King has watching at this Stranger. He recognizes this look. That King loves this new Man, in an indescribable way. What is He doing standing next to a filthy traitor to the Crown?
The Stranger gently lifts the convicts hands, and unclasps his shackles. Shaking, but deliberate, He locks them around His own wrist. The convict looks around wildly, trying to understand what is transpiring. The guards beckon him to leave his place before the King. As he turns his back and walks to a safer position, he hears the King suddenly call His judgment. When the convict glances back again, he sees the Stranger's body lying motionless on the floor. The convict races back to Him, to see what has happened, and who this Man was, that He might take this man's stead. On His still face, the Stranger has a quiet smile played on His lips. One of an inside joy, that others would be hard-pressed to decipher.
Looking up, the convict sees the King's face. Instead of seeing a wrathful gaze upon him, as before, he sees a smile too big for description, the kind that lose control of the tears building on the edge of the eye. A gaze he is sure of that is not meant for looking upon him. A gaze he saw given to the Stranger before His deliberate decision.
As understanding slowly comes to the convict, he recognizes the body on the floor. A man that likewise commands the very forces of nature. A man who's place belongs next to the King. His very own Son. His Savior, from the brink of death itself.
His life, a useless waste of selfishness and ignorance, has been traded for the life of the Perfect Son, the only one to live up to the standard of perfection. He has been granted a life not worthy of him. He has been given a second opportunity to bring glory to his King.
Obviously this comparison has its limits, but I can't shake knowing full well that I have been given an inheritance beyond my understanding. We should all just spend a few moments right now, soberly mulling over the fact that a King has sent His Son, to take the place of sinners, for the sole fact that He chose it to be so, that He might be glorified, and that we might fall to our knees in awe of Him.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
That Precious Book
So Im doing my routine "staying up uber late" on a Sunday night, because my body is hardwired for the night owl life now.
My mind feels like a whirlwind, as per usual. I've mentioned this to Rachel, but sometimes I'm worried by how much goes through my head at once, constantly. I have a thousand ideas, thoughts, interests, and worries that roll around, surface for two minutes, and dive back into the deep. Update: Jon(bro) just text me saying his wife is pushing their little Peter out right now. SO now its directing prayers to Nora and the wee one's safety.
One lesson I've learned is how quickly my mind will degrade without Scripture. I went a couple of days without delving in, and it feels like my heart and mind diminish with each breath. Focus, hope, peace and patience, all are instantly harder to obtain, without having God's precious Word sweetly permeating my thoughts. I thank God I have that problem, because it causes me to instantly recognize the need I have to be reminded of His love, by His mouth directly. I'm gonna keep asking that He wont change that, that I might not lose sight of the necessity of Scripture, discarding an "already saved, it's taken care of" mentality to the wind.
Warning: Tommy Tangent Ahead. We went to a nearby lake today, and it was overcast. Being the ex-swimmer I am, pride filled me to the point of looking across to the other side of the lake and thinking, "Oh yeah." As I was (painstakingly) making my way across, I laid on my back for a bit, staring up at the overcast sky. It had me thinking. We know that sun is still their, above, waiting for the cover to lift to have direct sight of us. Thank you God, that Your Son has covered my life with his precious blood. Literally, when God looks at those purchased by His Son, He doesn't see them. He sees His obedient, loving, glorified Son.
The church stands in the shade of a piece of wood, blood smeared across each grain. The lifeblood of the King fell upon that wood. Holes remain where His hands and feet were pounded in, that He might fulfill prophecy, and show a physical demonstration of the spiritual maelstrom to the unseeing eye. A placard stands at the top, intending to mock this King. They had no idea how true those words rang through the heavens. Too limited, though. King of Jews. King of Gentiles. King of believers and unbelievers alike. The Son of God, who came to dwell in the life of man. To bring glory to His Father, by redeeming my life. Who am I, that I might face God without fear of death? That I might take up an inheritance of a heavenly nature? That a King might call me friend?
I sometimes ask why it couldn't have been done differently. I am always answered by how perfectly it was done.
My mind feels like a whirlwind, as per usual. I've mentioned this to Rachel, but sometimes I'm worried by how much goes through my head at once, constantly. I have a thousand ideas, thoughts, interests, and worries that roll around, surface for two minutes, and dive back into the deep. Update: Jon(bro) just text me saying his wife is pushing their little Peter out right now. SO now its directing prayers to Nora and the wee one's safety.
One lesson I've learned is how quickly my mind will degrade without Scripture. I went a couple of days without delving in, and it feels like my heart and mind diminish with each breath. Focus, hope, peace and patience, all are instantly harder to obtain, without having God's precious Word sweetly permeating my thoughts. I thank God I have that problem, because it causes me to instantly recognize the need I have to be reminded of His love, by His mouth directly. I'm gonna keep asking that He wont change that, that I might not lose sight of the necessity of Scripture, discarding an "already saved, it's taken care of" mentality to the wind.
Warning: Tommy Tangent Ahead. We went to a nearby lake today, and it was overcast. Being the ex-swimmer I am, pride filled me to the point of looking across to the other side of the lake and thinking, "Oh yeah." As I was (painstakingly) making my way across, I laid on my back for a bit, staring up at the overcast sky. It had me thinking. We know that sun is still their, above, waiting for the cover to lift to have direct sight of us. Thank you God, that Your Son has covered my life with his precious blood. Literally, when God looks at those purchased by His Son, He doesn't see them. He sees His obedient, loving, glorified Son.
The church stands in the shade of a piece of wood, blood smeared across each grain. The lifeblood of the King fell upon that wood. Holes remain where His hands and feet were pounded in, that He might fulfill prophecy, and show a physical demonstration of the spiritual maelstrom to the unseeing eye. A placard stands at the top, intending to mock this King. They had no idea how true those words rang through the heavens. Too limited, though. King of Jews. King of Gentiles. King of believers and unbelievers alike. The Son of God, who came to dwell in the life of man. To bring glory to His Father, by redeeming my life. Who am I, that I might face God without fear of death? That I might take up an inheritance of a heavenly nature? That a King might call me friend?
I sometimes ask why it couldn't have been done differently. I am always answered by how perfectly it was done.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Riding the Wave
Yes, I created a blog about a week after my wife. She is my inspiration, after all. ;)
Actually I've been looking for a way to sort out my thoughts. And Rachel may be the only one to read this, but sometimes my mind feels like its in a thousand different places at once. I think people only fully convey their thoughts through words, regardless of the 90% or so we have through body language. God shows great understanding of His creation in the fact that His true revelation to us is through what else but His Word.
I have no plans for this blog. My goal is to shed mental buildup, and pray somehow to achieve glorifying God through that process.
As for today, my mind is on how to not let culture dim my knowledge of the Gospel. I've been reading(slowly) through Radical, a book by David Platt. It's basic premise is how America has shaped and twisted Scripture, and how we can start tearing away that veil piece by piece. It's a short book, and succinct, yet conviction seems to be lying near me whenever I open its pages again. I'm a man of convenience, video games, cultural references, quotes for the more hardcore movie enthusiasts, and an embarrassing amount of Star Wars trivia. I desperately need a transformation already taking place in me; a path less traveled, and yet I have barely taken that dusty road. I need a mind that exudes God's Word, and a heart that wishes nothing else than to see His Glory magnified with each breath. If you are reading this(besides Rachel), I encourage you to pray with and for me, that I am continually conformed to an image most unnatural to me.
Actually I've been looking for a way to sort out my thoughts. And Rachel may be the only one to read this, but sometimes my mind feels like its in a thousand different places at once. I think people only fully convey their thoughts through words, regardless of the 90% or so we have through body language. God shows great understanding of His creation in the fact that His true revelation to us is through what else but His Word.
I have no plans for this blog. My goal is to shed mental buildup, and pray somehow to achieve glorifying God through that process.
As for today, my mind is on how to not let culture dim my knowledge of the Gospel. I've been reading(slowly) through Radical, a book by David Platt. It's basic premise is how America has shaped and twisted Scripture, and how we can start tearing away that veil piece by piece. It's a short book, and succinct, yet conviction seems to be lying near me whenever I open its pages again. I'm a man of convenience, video games, cultural references, quotes for the more hardcore movie enthusiasts, and an embarrassing amount of Star Wars trivia. I desperately need a transformation already taking place in me; a path less traveled, and yet I have barely taken that dusty road. I need a mind that exudes God's Word, and a heart that wishes nothing else than to see His Glory magnified with each breath. If you are reading this(besides Rachel), I encourage you to pray with and for me, that I am continually conformed to an image most unnatural to me.
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