Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. But our citizenship is in heaven. – Philippians 3:19-20a

Two weeks ago, my husband and I decided, rather spontaneously, to join our daughter and her family on a four-day cruise to the Bahamas. We had been invited to join them some time ago, but my very practical husband was wrestling with what was involved in actually getting to the boat. (That perspective would prove painfully insightful by the end of the journey.)

I’ll skip the long, frustrating, boring part about all the hoops we had to jump through to get to the port in Fort Lauderdale, where we finally boarded the ship, and the fun part of the adventure began.

To say it was a large ship would be a serious understatement. There were over four thousand guests on board and more employees than guests – about ten thousand people on board all together – a floating city.

And what a city! As we set sail, the main pool deck was teeming with people, packed like spectators at a sports arena, drinking their beverages, hollering their jubilation, and dancing to the loud music. As a group of them started line-dancing like pros, reminiscent of a flash mob, I wondered what four straight days of this was going to be like, and Marty muttered something about “too many people.” But I doubted any of them were going to jump overboard, and it was too late to change our minds now.

Though things did settle down somewhat, there were always people everywhere. The ship had virtually every kind of entertainment and recreation one could imagine, including but not limited to: restaurants, bars, stores, pools, water slides, mini golf, basketball, boogieboarding, surfing, silent disco, karaoke, art exhibit, kids’ party, casino, and even an ice rink.

With all those people, it astounded me that the staff knew our names from day one. Our room attendant, a friendly, creative man from India, greeted us by name in the hallway, even if we weren’t close to our room. He left towels in our room cleverly fashioned into the shape of a different animal every day. Our waiter and bus boy knew the names of every family member around the table – eight in all – and little things about us. He would point out the sugar-free desserts to me and ask our nine-year-old grandson if he wanted the usual cheeseburger and fries. He would bring him fresh raw veggies to balance out his meal but then unbalance it by giving him extra cookies with his ice cream.

The gourmet food was exquisite – even the sugar-free and/or gluten-free desserts, made by master chefs from all over the world. I’ve heard that one can go on a cruise and eat virtually non-stop, and we did see many people carrying plates of the “free” food, presumably back to their rooms for a midnight “snack” later. To counteract the risk of overindulgence and not fitting into any of our clothes by the end of the trip, Marty and I took the stairs instead of the elevators whenever possible. Since the kids’ rooms were on Deck 2 in the middle of the ship, and ours was on Deck 9 in the bow, getting from their room to ours took a bit of a walk and a climb of 112 steps. (Yes, I’ve recovered from my hip replacement – Yay God!)

For four days we experienced being treated like royalty, being able to indulge in pretty much anything we wanted to do or have or watch or eat or drink. I’m guessing many of the passengers had saved up for months, maybe years, to go on this cruise. And there were moments when I wondered how they would feel at the end of the trip.

Would they feel satisfied? Would they continue to believe four days on this floating carnival was the pinnacle of life and start saving up for the next cruise? Did any of them stay too long in the casino and lose everything? Did anyone’s perspective on life change as a result of this experience? Mine did … sort of.

As a believer in Jesus Christ, I have always known that heaven holds more for us than this world could ever offer. But, not ever having seen heaven, I need to keep reminding myself, because what the world offers is a lot more tangible. More than once I thought of Solomon, how he indulged in the wealth of the world without restraint, “because he could,” and how depressed he became in the end. (He wrote about it in the book of Ecclesiastes.)

To be clear, I did enjoy the cruise. I loved being with family, and I’ll admit I enjoyed the great food (and not cooking!), diverse entertainment, and playing with my grandchildren in venues not always available to us. But I never got the feeling, “This is IT!” That experience was yet to come …

A few days later, I was back in my home church, standing with several hundred other believers. We were worshiping our God, singing our hearts out in four-part harmony and feeling His presence with every note. When I closed my eyes, it was easy to imagine we were in His Throne room. That fifteen-minute glimpse of eternity beat all the pampering, entertainment, and amusements of the past week. It was more real, more personal, more lasting, more deeply satisfying. It wasn’t heaven, it was just a taste. But if a brief taste of heaven could outshine the world’s treasures, how much more incredibly wonderful will it be when we all finally come home?

I hope and pray that each and every person reading this will be there on that day.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for turning Your back on the treasures of this world that are rightfully Yours, to make eternal life available to us. Thank You for dying and paying for our sins so we can be forgiven and join You in heaven forever. Help us to be mindful of that glorious future, as the world clamors for our attention today. In Your name, amen.

This was one of my first blog posts back in 2018, and since most of my followers were not among the dozen or so original followers, ;) I thought I’d share it again. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Then the angel said to me, “Write, ‘Blessed are those who are invited

to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’”   Revelation 19:9

Well, it’s official: White Castle is taking reservations for Valentine’s Day.

I did a double-take as I passed the billboard, trying to imagine who would consider a meal at that establishment a romantic thing to do on Valentine’s Day. With all due respect to those who love and crave “sliders,” frankly the two thoughts “White Castle” and “romance” had never crossed my mind at the same time.

What do you picture when you think of a romantic dinner – white  linen tablecloth? Candlelight? Crystal, silver, and fine china? Soft music? I had to laugh, thinking of a couple sitting in hard plastic chairs, eating fries, and the girl trying hard to pretend she thought this was remotely elegant. (Am I just showing my age here?)

But then I thought of God’s perspective. (I was on my way to church, after all.) Jesus told us that our eyes haven’t seen, our ears haven’t heard, nor could we even imagine what He had prepared for those who love Him. (I Corinthians 2:9) That means, compared with the feast that awaits us in heaven, that candlelight dinner with all the luxuries attached is more like digging in a dumpster. And yet that “high-class” type of lifestyle is what so many people run after all their lives.

I’ve been there. I was raised in a country club culture from the time I was much too young to understand or appreciate what I was being given on a daily basis. And yet my first taste of what it was like to be a child of God – forgiven, saved, filled with His Spirit – awakened in me such a craving for more that I knew no private club, no amount of possessions or membership in a worldly “inner circle” could satisfy.

So, while I smirk and roll my eyes at the thought of a Valentine’s Day dinner at White Castle, I should be equally amused – or grieved – that so much of the world is “settling,” having no idea that “Better is one day in your [God’s] courts than a thousand elsewhere.” (Psalm 84:10)

Prayer: Jesus, our Beloved, our heavenly Bridegroom, help us to have our eyes and hearts fixed on You. Help us not to be distracted by the glitter of worldly things that will fade and decay, when You have promised so much more to those who love You. Let us live in eager anticipation of that day we are are joined with You forever, and the Wedding Feast has begun. In Your precious Name, Amen.

When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple. Acts 9:26

So, for the past few weeks, I have been recovering from hip replacement surgery. (I know, thousands of people have had this procedure. But millions of women have gone through childbirth, too. That doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal to the one it’s happening to.)

Having had a relatively easy life so far, I found the first few days to be an eye-opening experience. The literature about what the surgery entailed was disturbing, but the fact that it is such a common operation, led me to expect … well, I’m not sure what I was expecting.

From the first moments of consciousness after the surgery, I was given a walker and encouraged (ordered) to walk. That’s right, folks. Having had a section of one femur cut off, I was to put my weight on what was left and walk on it! I’ve never broken a leg, but I’m pretty sure walking on it is not the usual recommended course of treatment. But I was told I should continue to get up and walk around for 3 minutes at least every couple of hours.

Sometime during the second day, the anesthesia started wearing off in a bit of an O-my-GOSH! moment. Pain meds, I had been told, were for pain management, not “pain elimination.” So, pain became a constant companion at one level or another. Opioids were a blessing those first few days, but they weren’t for long-term use, and getting weaned off them as soon as possible without doing if too soon was a balancing act.

When getting up in the middle of the night that first week, I sometimes found myself shaking uncontrollably, my teeth chattering, even though I didn’t feel particularly cold. My physical therapist explained it as a sign that my body had been severely traumatized. (Gee, ya think?) It would seem the rest of my body was coming to terms with the fact that there was a large foreign object invading the system, and as imperfect as the old system was, we were not exactly welcoming the invader with open arms.

On Day Two a physical therapist came to my house, a delightful woman who showed me exercises and stretches I needed to do several times a day in addition to the regular walking. Compliant to a fault, I’ve been doing these religiously and painstakingly – literally.

In the first couple of weeks, when I wasn’t doing the physical therapy, I was dealing with something else I’m not used to – being waited on. I have always been more comfortable being the one waiting on others. Now before you think I have some marvelous “servant’s heart,” I should tell you, it’s not any admirable selflessness on my part. It’s just that with my touch of ADHD, I’d much rather be moving and serving than just sitting, especially sitting waiting for someone else to do things for me.

So, with all this in mind, I continued the milder pain meds, napping a lot, trying to ditch my pride and self-sufficiency, praying for patience, and doing the therapy consistently 2-3 times a day. My body still complained, but not as loudly as it did at first. So, I pressed on, knowing in the long run this new hip will be an asset.

And I thought about the apostle Paul.

In the early days of the Church, believers (the Body of Christ) were experiencing extreme trauma – intense persecution from the religious establishment, notably Saul of Tarsus. He would routinely have believers in Jesus hunted down, arrested, and thrown in prison. So, it’s understandable that when word got around that Paul had become a zealous believer himself, the Body of Christ was very reluctant to accept him as “the new guy.” With his background as a Pharisee and one who had overseen the execution of the first martyr, Stephen, he didn’t seem to fit in, to say the least. Everywhere he preached the gospel, there were some who believed and others who opposed him, sometimes violently. Even within the Church there were those who had problems with him, and on more than one occasion Paul had to deal with painful divisions in the Body.

We believers in the 21st century have the advantage of hindsight. We know what the early Christians didn’t – that Saul of Tarsus, who became the apostle Paul, was one of the greatest leaders of the Church in the first century. His letters make up about one third of the New Testament, and millions have benefitted from them to this day.

So, although the Church of Jesus Christ might have had a hard time accepting and adjusting to Paul, in the long run he proved to be one of their greatest assets.

Is there something (or someone) in your life that has seemingly invaded your space, that you feel “doesn’t belong,” that is just a little too different from what you’ve become accustomed to? Have you taken the matter to the Lord? And has He revealed that, uncomfortable as you might be with this new development, it’s part of His plan for you? Is accommodating this new element of your life going to require a little extra work on your part – maybe painful work? We all have times like these, when we must make a choice: We can either complain and resist God’s plan, or we can believe that He knows what He’s doing infinitely better than we do. It’s likely that this new inconvenience (or invasion) could become something He uses in your life in a mighty way.

It could end up being the titanium in your hip. It could end up being the Paul in your church.

Prayer: Lord, You never cease to surprise me with the variety of things You bring my way to mold me and direct my life. Help me to be malleable, trusting, and eagerly anticipating the unfolding of Your plan, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings. – I Peter 5:8-9

Recently social media and the news is all abuzz with the release of the infamous “list,” which presumably incriminates a slew of celebrities. The story appeals to the public’s more salacious side, as millions of consumers devour every new piece of information as it is leaked out a trickle at a time. What happened is beyond disturbing, but I find the public’s appetite for such news disturbing, as well.

Now that we know more than ever about the notorious J. E. and his activities, it’s easy to understand the system that made him so obscenely wealthy. His island appealed to the rich and famous, who went there to enjoy unbridled carnal pleasures, sadly at the expense of countless innocents, all the time thinking their activities would be kept confidential. After all, Jeffery was their buddy, he wouldn’t tell.

Then came the blackmail, which explains why those targeted were the rich and famous – the ones with both money and a reputation to protect. Having filmed every indiscretion, the man who owned the island was then in a position to blackmail everyone who participated, releasing an endless flow of money that ensured him (he thought) a cushy lifestyle for many years to come.

(Until it didn’t.)

The man is dead now. (There’s controversy about the circumstances surrounding his death, but there’s already been more than enough discussion of that topic.) But somewhere out there are pictures and videotapes of illicit activities that could still destroy many prominent individuals and their families.

Does this scenario ring a bell? It should, and before we start passing judgment on those whose sins are much better publicized than our own, let’s consider the strategy of Mr. Epstein, brought to you from the pit of hell.

The enemy of our souls, the devil, a.k.a. Satan, has been using this strategy since the beginning of Man’s existence. He disguises himself as a friend, telling lies and giving invitations that appeal to the flesh, designed to destroy us. The very first lie: “God doesn’t want you to have fun. He’s keeping something good from you.” With this lie he persuaded the first man and woman to disobey the Lord and eat the forbidden fruit, thinking it would be a wonderful thing. They realized too late that this advice was disastrous, and Man has lived in a fallen world ever since.

Satan is setting the same trap today, offering all kinds of goodies to enjoy, persuading his victims to live for the moment, and assuring them, “no one will know.” His temptations give no hint of consequences for the behavior he’s encouraging.

Then, when the consequences inevitably come, he turns from being your ”buddy” to your betrayer – from tempter to accuser. He points to your sin – the sin he persuaded you to commit and says “Shame on you!” hoping to separate you from God permanently.

So, are you on Satan’s list? Every one of us is on his list of targets, but we don’t have to be on his list of ruined lives. When tempted, instead of going along with the enemy-disguised-as-buddy, turn to Jesus. He is the One who gave His life for you, the One who died on the cross to pay for the sins that would otherwise condemn you to an eternity of darkness. Life with Him may not always be “fun,” as the world defines “fun,” but the joy that comes with a relationship with Jesus is something the world will never comprehend or have.

If you have already given in to the temptations, – and I’ll let you in on a secret, we all have at one level or another – your enemy will then try to convince you that you are now too bad for God to want you. He’ll tell you, “God’s not going to forgive you after that, so don’t even bother to ask.”

Don’t fall for the second lie! Instead of avoiding your heavenly Father, run to Him! Confess your sins, and He will forgive you and restore you to Himself. (I John 1:9)

The enemy’s strategy: 1.) tempt, 2.) accuse, 3.) alienate from God. He knows he is already condemned to everlasting torment, and he wants to take as many people down with him as he can. Don’t be one of them.

Prayer: Our loving Father, how many times have we fallen for the lies? And how many times have you forgiven us and restored us? Thank You for Your amazing patience with us, and for loving us too much to give up on us. Help us not to fall for the devil’s lies, and on those occasions when we do stumble, help us to come running back to You and not believe for a moment the second lie, that You don’t want us anymore. You wanted us enough to sacrifice Your own Son for us! May we never, ever take Him for granted. It’s in His name we pray, Amen.

For six years sow your fields, and for six years prune your vineyards and gather their crops. But in the seventh year the land is to have a year of sabbath rest, a sabbath to the Lord. Do not sow your fields or prune your vineyards. Do not reap what grows of itself or harvest the grapes of your untended vines. The land is to have a year of rest. – Leviticus 25:3-5

The Old Testament Law had not only a Sabbath day for God’s people to rest from their labor, but also a Sabbath year, for the land to “rest.” Fields were to be left fallow one out of every seven years.

As of this month, I have been blogging for six years.

In the spirit of this “sabbath” concept, I am planning to take a break from blogging in 2024. This may take the form of discontinuing my blog or, more likely, blogging a lot less, possibly just reposting pieces from years ago. I can respond to comments but won’t be reading and commenting on others. As great as so many of your blogs are, I can never read them all and leave comments (as if y’all couldn’t survive without my all-important opinions – >eye roll<). And trying to do so has kept me from several other writing projects that have been on the “back burner” far too long.

I have a book that is 99% complete and has been waiting to be edited and published since before Kovd. I also need to come up with a cover design.

I want to finish production of the audio version of my Awakening trilogy. Last year I was able to complete the first two books, COUNSELOR and VISION. The final book, SPARROWS, has yet to be recorded.

Another goal for 2024 is an expanded edition of BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?) to include lessons I’ve learned since the first edition came out. (Most of the chapters to be added have already been published as blog posts, posts such as “Are You Praying to the Wrong Person?”* – definitely a “barrier”!). Years ago, I taught a Sunday school class with BARRIERS and still have the lesson plans, or study guide. And I know of at least two prison inmates and a pastor in India (!) who have led studies based on BARRIERS. In this new edition I plan to incorporate the study guide in the form of questions at the end of each chapter instead of as a separate booklet. Meanwhile, the Indian pastor has expressed an interest in having BARRIERS translated into one of the Indian languages – a language I’d never heard of but which I found out is spoken by over 48 million people! He has also invited me to come to India and help him teach. That prospect seems unlikely, but you never know. If God wants it …

My sister has suggested I publish a compilation of my blog posts as a devotional. I have also thought that I might rearrange key posts about my life to publish as a memoir. As for titles for these two projects, I haven’t yet come up with a better title than Seeking Divine Perspective, as that still pretty much says it all.

All these things are not going to get done if I continue to spend 2-4 hours a day blogging. Many days I have set aside an afternoon to “get down to business!” and as the emails pour in, I keep thinking, “I’ll read just one more…” (You guys are just too good!) And next thing I know, the afternoon is gone. Something as wide open as blogging, for someone as scatterbrained as yours truly, is practically asking for trouble!

If I get a good amount done in 2024, l might return to regular blogging. In the meantime, I’ll probably post my “perspective” occasionally when I’m particularly inspired. If you read and comment on these, I promise I will answer. So many of you have become what I consider good friends, even though I’ve met few of you face to face, and I’d hate to think of losing touch with you! I just don’t have the willpower to blog without setting boundaries for myself.

Bottom line: You’re probably not going to be seeing as much of me in 2024, at least not in the blogosphere, but as long as the Lord has work for me to do, I will (as we used to say in the 60’s) “write on!”

Prayer: Lord, thank You so much for the experiences of the past six years. I never would have imagined You would inspire me to write so many hundreds of messages, much less that so many people would find them interesting and inspiring. As always, I trust You to continue answering my prayers for “divine perspective.” – I’m living in the world but don’t want to see things as the world does. Thank You for my blogging friends. Please bless and guide them in their own journeys as we all strive to reach the world for You, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

*https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2022/11/04/are-you-praying-to-the-wrong-person/

*https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2022/11/11/are-you-praying-to-the-wrong-person-part-ii-saints/

*https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2022/11/18/are-you-praying-to-the-wrong-person-part-iii-angels/

*https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2022/11/25/are-you-praying-to-the-wrong-person-part-iv-fallen-angels/

*https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2022/12/02/are-you-praying-to-the-wrong-person-part-v-wrong-jesus/

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. – Galatians 6:2

I had expected that as I recover from my surgery I would have more time for prayer, reading, and writing. But with physical therapy several times a day, keeping my feet up in a position that makes it very hard not to fall asleep (I’ve had more naps in the past week than in 2023, total.), and difficulty concentrating (possibly from medications?), I can barely focus long enough to pray the basics or count reps.

I’m so grateful for friends that pray for me when I can’t pray for myself, and that salvation is by God’s grace, not religious performance. I’m grateful for a church that always prays for one another, for whom prayer is not “the last resort,” it’s our lifeline.

This week I’m letting a relatively new member of the church share “divine perspective” with you, a story of answered prayer:

A little over one year ago, God answered your prayers and delivered me from utter hopelessness. 

I visited Honey Lake Clinic (which is a Christian mental health facility) as an alumni back in August.  I was blessed with the opportunity to sit with, listen to, encourage, and pray for patients who were there for a variety of reasons:  mental health struggles, trauma, substance abuse, etc.  While there, I was invited to participate in an exercise with a patient who needed a partner.  We were asked to reflect on our lives and to talk about a time when we felt the most joy / peace…

As I thought about it, I realized that I was “there” in that moment (and in this season of life).  As I write this right now, I have more joy / peace than ever before.  The Lord’s presence almost seems tangible at times.  He is answering prayers in ways that are far above  / beyond what I’ve prayed for.  It’s truly surreal and I’m eternally grateful.

So, why am I broadcasting this?  The reason is that I did not enter this season of life on a “winning streak” and I want to glorify God for what He is doing now in the “light” of this season and how He used the “darkness” of the previous season to bring me to this point.

That said, here’s an overview of the previous season.  From July of 2021 to October of 2022 (a total of 15 months), I experienced relentless “anxiety / depression” that often led to paralyzing suicidal ideations.  Further complicating things, there was no clear culprit for my struggles because my life was going well overall.  The “anxiety / depression” was completely disproportionate to my circumstances.  Here’s a brief highlight reel of that 15 months:

– I checked myself into mental health hospitals / treatment centers three different times for suicidal ideations.  I was inpatient for 40+ days (in all).

– With the help of highly respected psychiatrists, I responsibly tried 7 different antidepressant medications and various combinations of medications / supplements (in all).

– I spent 3 months in bed nearly 24 / 7.

– Although I had no desire to (and I never have) hurt myself, I begged God to take my life almost everyday because the pain / anguish was so intense.

Even with all of that and so much love, support, counseling, and prayers, nothing brought lasting relief.

Then, in October of 2022, the Lord delivered me from hell on earth.  It was the third week of October and I was going from bad to worse again.  I thought I was going to have to check myself into another mental health hospital just to be proactive / safe.  I was so exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I had lost hope that medication would help me (even a little bit).  My lifelong struggle with shame was at its peak.  Although I didn’t want to hurt myself, I had no desire to live.

As I was considering what mental health facility I might go to next, I decided to send out a prayer request to my new church that I had joined a few months prior after moving from Dallas to Louisville for work.  I was / am a covenant member and covenant members are allowed to send emails that go to all of the other covenant members (+/- 800 people).  In desperation, I sent an email to the entire church with an overview of what I had been through during the previous 15 months (which was similar to what I’ve shared with y’all here).  Ultimately, I asked them to pray for me.  I didn’t know what else to do.

Within an hour of sending that email, the “anxiety / depression” was gone and I haven’t experienced it to any degree since then.  To be clear, nothing had changed circumstantially.  For reasons that are above me, the Lord decided that was the day that He was going to answer the prayers (both past and present) for my restoration.  After 15 months of suffering and so many attempts to find lasting relief and help, the Lord used a prayer request sent to my local church to lift me out of the valley of the shadow of death.

One year later, I’m writing this as I sit on a plane and I’m in even more awe of God’s grace and mercy.  Although I’d prefer to never experience anything like that previous season ever again lol, I can genuinely say that I wouldn’t change my story if I could.  God used it to increase my trust in Him.  He used it to increase my love for Him and others.  He used it to increase my compassion for others (especially those who have suffered in similar ways).  Ultimately, He brought me down to lift me up and the mess is now a message 🙏🏻

_______

If you’re still with me, I hope that you’re marveling at the grace of our incredible God.  No matter what you’re going through, please:

– Don’t stop crying out to God and asking others to cry out to Him on your behalf.

– Don’t forsake the spiritual disciplines.

– Don’t withdraw from the people of God.

– Don’t stop fighting.

– Don’t give up.

I love you church and I’m eternally grateful for y’all.

Prayer: Our gracious Shepherd, thank You for the gift of Your Church, the “Body of Christ.” Thank You for not requiring us to live the Christian life alone but allowing us – commanding us – to come together regularly to share our joys and struggles. If there are those who have wandered from the flock, thinking they can make it without the Church, please use this testimony to bring them back safely into the fold. In Jesus’ name, amen.

What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. – James 4:14

I remember the night before my 40th birthday, lying awake pondering the fact that I was getting older, and I couldn’t do a thing about it! It seems like yesterday, but now my daughter is 45!

This past year I celebrated my 70th birthday. My husband and I celebrated our 50th anniversary! The thought keeps recurring: How did THAT happen!?

As my 70th birthday was fast approaching, I was thinking of myself as “in the home stretch.” Then a man at our church told us his grandmother had passed at the age of 104! So, I keep having to remind myself to stop staring at the finish line and focus on what my Creator wants me to do with the days, years – or decades I have left. When this life is over, and I am beginning the next one – the forever one – I want to know I have served Him well with every day He’s given me.

Because of Him, I have no fear of death. (Although like Woody Allen, “I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”😉) In fact, as the inevitable draws nearer, the thought seems less frightening and more comforting; Jesus has gone to prepare a place for me. ❤️

If my thoughts on the fleetingness of time sound familiar to you but the comfort sounds foreign and you’d like to know more, read the Gospel of John in the Bible, chapter 3. (If you don’t have a Bible and would like one, email me at bascha3870@yahoo.com. I would be happy to send you one.)

I pray that 2024 is your best year ever, as you draw closer to your Creator than you have ever been.

Blessings,

Annie

Prayer: Lord, as this year draws to a close and another begins, carry out Your perfect plan for this imperfect child, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

I Peter 1: Concerning this salvation, the prophets, who spoke of the grace that was to come to you, searched intently and with the greatest care, trying to find out the time and circumstances to which the Spirit of Christ in them was pointing when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the glories that would follow. It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels long to look into these things. – I Peter 1:10-12

The Sunday school class I attend is making our way through I Peter, the letter the apostle Peter wrote to encourage the scattered Church during a time of persecution. Each week we look at a few verses, and the above passage is what we were discussing last Sunday. Considering its implications, I was reminded of a perspective I gained from my husband Marty when he and I were in college.

Even back in the ’70’s, the price of textbooks seemed outrageous. One textbook could cost a student over a hundred dollars. (I can only imagine the price now.) Complaints about the cost of books were common among the students. How could a bundle of paper be that expensive? But Marty held a different viewpoint.

“It’s pretty amazing,” he commented one day when the topic came up. “A scientist, or whole team of scientists, can spend their entire lives researching something, and we can purchase what they learned for a couple hundred dollars.”

This is the perspective of a research chemist, and I immediately saw the wisdom of it. I hold that same opinion, now more than ever since becoming a writer.

It takes me years to write each of my books, which can now be bought for about $13 apiece (and less if they’re used). A bargain, no? But enough about me. Back to Peter:

Early on in his letter, the apostle reminded the believers how privileged they were to have the Gospel – the Good News. Hundreds of years before, the Old Testament prophets had written what the Spirit of Christ was telling them, often not understanding what He was saying but obediently recording the words anyway. They prayed, they searched the Scriptures, and they pondered what their prophesies could mean and when their predictions would take place, with no clear answers.

Meanwhile, the Jews had hundreds of laws and regulations to follow in their attempts to please their God. Sins they committed had to be paid for with animal sacrifices. Over the centuries, animals were sacrificed by the thousands, and yet sin persisted. Israel lived in a hazy darkness spiritually, and often if must have seemed God had forgotten His promises to them.

Then came Jesus, the promised Messiah. He taught the masses about the love of the Father and the kingdom of heaven, but His followers’ understanding was cloudy. Many stayed with Him only temporarily, attracted by miracles and free food. And as He warned His closest twelve that He would be executed and on the third day rise again, even those disciples didn’t grasp what He was saying until after He had been crucified, buried, and risen.

After His resurrection Jesus stayed with them, giving further clarification, instructions, and encouragement before His final ascension into heaven. His followers stayed in Jerusalem, as they had been told to do, until the Holy Spirit filled them. Empowered, they were ready to “go forth into all the world” and tell anyone who would listen, Jews and eventually Gentiles, as well, about Messiah’s coming. With the Spirit’s infilling, the Church sprang to life, with over three thousand baptized on the first day! What the prophets had longed to understand had finally been made clear: God loved the people of this world so much that He gave His own Son as the final sacrifice to pay the required penalty for all our sins, once and for all, so we could be forgiven and adopted as His sons and daughters.

The prophets had predicted a Suffering Servant. They had also predicted a Conquering King. They themselves hadn’t understood how Messiah could be both. We understand now that Jesus fulfilled the prophesy of the Suffering Servant, conquering sin with His sacrificial death and death with His resurrection. He has also promised to come back as a mighty Warrior, Judge, and King. He came once in meekness and is coming back in power.

What the prophets lived their whole lives longing to know, we have been told clearly.

Not only the prophets, but as Peter wrote, “Even the angels long to look into these things.” Apparently, angels are not all-knowing as God is. The angels that have stayed faithful to the Lord are His servants and do His bidding, but none of them necessarily know the whole Plan. There was a time long ago when Satan tried to usurp God’s position, was expelled from heaven, and took a third of heaven’s angels with him, but even they can’t do anything without God’s permission. (The first chapter of Job shows this played out.) Obviously, these “fallen angels” don’t have complete understanding, either, because all their plans will ultimately fail.

But we who live in the era after the first coming of Jesus have been given the priceless gift of the gospel, something neither the ancient prophets nor the angels in heaven could grasp. That makes us the most privileged people in history.

But there’s another privilege we have that the angels don’t, and that is the opportunity to receive God’s grace. Yes, we’ve all sinned, but because Jesus paid the price, if we confess our sins and place our faith in Him as our Atoning Sacrifice, we can be forgiven and live forever with Him. The angels that rebelled have a place prepared for them, and it is the lake of fire. They will never have an opportunity to repent (possibly because they wouldn’t anyway). But we do.

If you have not yet taken advantage of your privileged position, if you haven’t repented of your sins (turned from them and asked God’s forgiveness based on the sacrificial death of His Son), I urge you to do so today. The ancient prophets and other people of faith, and even angels, long to have what you have. Take hold of it today. Or rather, let Him take hold of you.

Prayer: Father, how can we thank You enough for the ultimate blessing of knowing You, being Your children, and having Your Spirit in us? Help us never to forget our privilege or neglect to share such good news with others. In the name of Your Son, Jesus, amen.

A time to weep… Ecclesiastes 3:4

As many of you know, I’ve been using a crutch lately, trying to minimize the weight placed on a bad hip. (Said hip will be kicked off the island and replaced shortly after Christmas.)

More than once, as I was making my way through the house, a line from “A Cup of Christmas Tea” by Tom Hegg would pop into my head:

“The triple-beat of two feet and a crutch came down the hall…”

I hadn’t read or even thought about that poem in decades. I remembered the first time I’d heard it, a young lady had read it aloud at a Christmas luncheon. She’d gotten choked up, and I think the rest of us had been teary-eyed, too. It was one of those simple but touching stories that tug at the heartstrings. I’d loved the poem so much I’d bought multiple copies of the book and given them as Christmas presents that year.

The following year we’d moved from Michigan to St. Louis, and the following Christmas I’d shared it with the women’s group at my new church. I’d cried (again), and about 200 women had cried with me. When my smaller group of women had met the next week, the ladies had talked me into reading it again. Again, there’d been tears all around. (I remember thinking, This is ridiculous!)

So, now I was remembering the sweet poem about the young person who reluctantly goes to visit an elderly crippled great-aunt. Forty years ago, I’d identified with the young person. But now, I … didn’t.

The women’s gift exchange at my Louisville church was coming up, and frankly, I hadn’t planned to go. With the physical issues, I hadn’t had time to buy a gift, and being sugar-free and gluten-free, I doubted they’d be serving anything I could eat. Struggling just to get around, I figured I’d probably be too tired to go, anyway.

Friday night our grandson came to spend the night with “Nana and Beepaw.” When I was searching for some Christmas stories he and I could read together, to my surprise, there was not one, but three copies of “A Cup of Christmas Tea”!

(Was Someone trying to tell me something??)

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to share the beloved poem with my sisters at church, and every time I made “the triple beat of two feet and a crutch” coming down the hall, I felt more convicted about it. A couple of days later at church I spoke with Brittney, one of the ladies in charge of the gift exchange. I had the book with me, in case she’d like me to run it by her after service.

When offering to share the poem, I fully expected to hear, “How long is it?” and after telling her, to see that look on her face. (That strained look people get when they don’t want to hurt my feelings but clearly don’t want to go along with whatever idea I have.)

But Brittney said simply, “Sure! I think that would be nice!” Surprised, I asked if she’d like to hear it, just to make sure it was OK, but she said not necessary, she trusted me. I was stunned, but I guess I shouldn’t have been, after all the little signs I’d been getting.

So, now what had I gotten myself into? I needed to practice! I asked Mary Lynn, my 81-year-old friend across the street, if I could read it to her. She said, “Sure!” I went over, and we sat down amid the gift wrapping.

Well, not much had changed. I got choked up at the very same place, and so did Mary Lynn. Now she loves the poem as much as I do.

That night I hobbled into the gift exchange, barely on time. I had some misgivings, as I really didn’t want to cry in front of all the ladies at this church now! But I knew obeying God was more important than preserving my dignity, and if the Lord wanted tears to be part of the presentation, I wasn’t going to be able to stop them anyway, so I figured I might as well not fret over it.

Brittney got the ladies’ attention, and they quieted down. She announced that I’d be sharing a poem, but then realized I’d need a stool to sit on. While she was getting the stool, the ladies went back to their talking. I could feel the awkwardness closing in.

But the moment I opened the book, to my surprise, I had their full attention. I gave it my all, drawing on my college theater experience. As usual, I got choked up at that same part again (Geez, Ann!), and when I looked up, the ladies were still paying attention, but this time I wasn’t seeing any tears. I wondered if this generation just had a different mindset from mine forty years ago.

Next, we played a game and the wrapped gifts changed hands, I was feeling more awkward by the minute, recalling that I had brought a copy of the book for my gift. I watched it go around, praying that whoever got it would be OK with it. At one point the lady holding it was told to open it, and she seemed delighted with it! But then the game continued, and the gifts continued getting passed around.

At the end of the evening, I spotted Brittney and our eyes met. Grinning, she held up the book and said, “I traded gifts, so I could have this one.” I was relieved that my treasure was going home with someone who would value it. But what she said next was for me the highlight of the evening.

“We talked it over, and we want to make this poem an annual tradition.”

Prayer: Lord Jesus, whatever the stage, You are, always have been, and always will be my Director. Help me to follow Your directions, even the ones I don’t understand or necessarily feel like following. Let my obedience be Your birthday present. Amen.

P. S. The next day, Brittney texted me a picture of her mother reading “A Cup of Christmas Tea” to her little girls, telling me they love it. ❤