Tag: health

Behind the Veil

Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed – in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. – I Corinthians 15:51-52

My mother once lamented that after a certain age, “it’s patch-patch-patch.” It does seem sometimes that the moment one problem is dealt with, another one crops up. I no longer wonder what old people do all day – they go to doctors, mostly “specialists.” They take supplements, do physical therapy, and research the latest treatment for whatever is ailing them on any given day. Not fun.

But I’m also spending my time reading, discussing, meditating on, and memorizing Scripture, and my thoughts often turn to the glorious future we (Christ-followers) have been promised. I look forward to having a new body, one without aches, pains, weakness, and sickness, that doesn’t get stressed and struggle to sleep. (Do people even sleep in heaven?)

Speaking of sleep, these thoughts have even entered my dreams.

Recently I dreamt I was walking on a city sidewalk, when suddenly I began to rise into the air. Looking around, I saw other people being raised up, too! It wasn’t a violent whoosh, like being sucked up by a giant vacuum cleaner, or slowly floating, like helium balloons. It was more like going up in an elevator – an invisible elevator.

As I looked around, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face reflected in the windows of one of the buildings. It was someone I hadn’t seen in many years …

It was ME – a twenty-year-old me! I only caught a momentary glimpse, but it was enough to thrill me – That person still exists! When I woke up, I concluded that I had dreamt about the Rapture, and that the moment my feet left the sidewalk, I had already received my new body.

A similar theme popped up in another dream, after learning that one of my high school classmates, Audrey – “Audie” – had passed away.

This time I was coming into a room where our class was gathered. The first person I saw was Audie! Startled, I wondered if the news I had received had been a mistake. Or was this a dream? I was seeing her so clearly that I asked, “This is real, isn’t it?” She just smiled at me mischievously, the way she used to in high school. In fact, she looked just the same as when we were in high school – dark brown hair, rosy cheeks, wearing a bright red t-shirt. She sure didn’t look like a ghost. I hugged her, she hugged me back. She sure didn’t feel like a ghost.

Next to Audie was a very tall, slender, elegant-looking woman, with white (or platinum blonde) hair and a silvery blue, shimmering dress. She had a slight smile on her face, and, like Audie, seemed just to be enjoying watching the party. I wondered why no one else was as excited and amazed as I was to see their classmate. – Was I the only one who saw her?

Then I noticed that the rest of the scene looked like a grainy old black and white movie.

In other words, Audie and her companion were more real than the rest of us.

“I suppose I should ask you what it’s like on the other side …” I thought out loud. The two just looked at each other and smiled, and I knew I wasn’t going to get any information out of them.

I don’t look to dreams for guidance. At best, they confirm what Scripture says. If my interpretation of a dream contradicts the Word of God, that dream should be ignored unless and until God gives me a better interpretation. But to me, these two dreams confirm what the Scripture from I Corinthians says – We will be changed, and when we are in our new bodies, we won’t be shadows or ghosts. We will be solid, living, breathing, hugging. Real – more real than we are now.

Yesterday I turned (gulp!) 72. If I had asked the much younger me what I expected life to be like at 72, I don’t think I would have imagined its being this interesting, exciting, and fun. Still, this body has its limitations, and I’m comforted knowing there are better things to come.

As I was getting out my Bible, I was thinking about how some have called it “God’s love letter to us.” With that in mind, I read from Song of Solomon. As I was reading chapter 4, the words of the Lover to his Beloved: “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves …” The word “veil” caught my attention. What follows is a lavish description of the woman the King’s beloved. Verse 3 repeats the phrase, “behind your veil.” In verse 7 the Lover declares, “All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you.”

The Bible calls the Church “the Bride of Christ,” and describes a divine wedding that will take place at the end of the age. On that day the veil will be lifted, and as we behold Him face to face, we will be radiant, flawless.

So, if, like me, you feel like your veil has gotten a little rumpled lately, and the thought of being “flawless” makes you laugh (or cry), take heart. One day (maybe very soon) the veil of this earthly existence will be lifted, and we will be in our new bodies, free from everything that corrupts. Like the beauty that captured the heart of King Solomon – only better! – we will be the all-beautiful, flawless Bride of Christ.

But I’m guessing we won’t be looking at ourselves or one another. On that day we’ll only have eyes for our Bridegroom.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, as the world clings hopelessly to health, strength, youth, and beauty, all of which are fading away, we thank You that You have promised us new life in Your forever Kingdom, if we just trust in You. Help us to keep divine perspective as we await Your return for Your Bride. In Your name we pray. Amen.

My Crutch

To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” – II Corinthians 12:7-9a

I’ve been told my faith is a “crutch,” as if that’s a bad thing. But right now, as I await getting my hip replaced, it’s the only way I can get around. So, this crutch is my friend. It’s also my teacher.

I have always said, “Wise people learn from their experiences, but the wisest learn from the experiences of others.” However, I’m finding first-hand experiences tend to be more effective. (It’s easier to forget what someone else has been through.) So, maybe that saying wasn’t as wise as I had given myself credit for.

Here are just a few random lessons I’m learning in this “season of the crutch”:

1.) Attitudes change with circumstances, and some attitudes need to be adjusted. I’ve never had anything in my life quite like hobbling around with a crutch to strip away my pride and see myself as I really am. I’ve always known in theory that I am helpless and utterly dependent on the Lord (Who is utterly dependable.), but this experience has forced me to face the reality that I depend on others, too. I have always looked to be the one who helps others, but I am not so good at accepting help. But if it’s more blessed to give than receive, maybe I’ve been hogging all the blessings for myself. Which brings me to …

2.) There is still a lot of kindness in the world. As much as I have struggled with having gone from being the helper to being helped, my heart has been opened to see the kindness of people, often total strangers. They smile, open doors, and offer to carry things for me. Even the simple gesture of being patient as I’m struggling up or down the stairs and slowing them down has touched me, as they reassure me, “No hurry, take your time.” Speaking of which …

3.) Slow down. As my regular readers have probably picked up, there’s a little of the “Martha” in me – going-going-going-doing-doing-doing … (Today we call it ADHD.) Now everything takes much longer. Having to do so many things using one hand is reminiscent of the early days of parenthood and having a baby on my hip. Only babies are a lot more fun than a bad hip. And you can switch sides. These days I’m doing everything with my left hand, which is counterintuitive for me. And speaking of counterintuitive …

4.) Not all pain makes sense to us. A lot of pain is the body’s communication system. Hunger pains say, Feed me! Thirst says, I need water! An intense burning sensation says, Take your hand off the burner, dummy! But there are also times our bodies seem to be screaming at us in a foreign language. At first, the pain of putting my weight on the bad hip meant I needed to sit down, so I would, and the pain would go away – message received. But now there are times when moving feels better and other times when moving makes the pain intensify. And there are those random moments when I’m sitting, relaxing, minding my own business, and the stabbing pain of muscle spasms hit for no apparent reason. It’s like my hip is suddenly screaming, “DO something!” And I want to scream, “DO WHAT?!” Speaking of questions …

5.) Who says pain is a bad thing? OK, this is a little experiment I’m trying in an attempt to cope. Apparently, just praying, “Make-it-stop-make-it-stop-make-it-stop!” doesn’t often produce the desired results. Obviously, I prefer no pain to pain, but why? Pain is an experience, and it’s a pretty novel one for me, different from comfort, and very different from pleasure. So, what if instead of fighting it, I observe it, even embrace it? (At any rate, it’d be a change from “make-it-stop-[etc.]!”) My mind has been coming up with imaginary scenarios, such as an enemy’s inflicting that pain, demanding that I renounce my faith, and I’m looking him in the eye and telling him to go jump in the lake! (Lovingly, of course. I mean, “Go get baptized.”)

This train of thought may seem totally loopy, and maybe it is. I blame the pain. And speaking of blame and other childish things …

6.) I was a very insensitive child. I can remember when I was younger, thinking old people moved slowly just because they were tired or lazy, or they didn’t really have anywhere important to go. In my more impatient moments, I could even imagine that those people slowing me down were being annoying on purpose. (Everything was all about me, you see.) I would occasionally encounter an older person who was grouchy, sullen, and unimpressed with my youthful “cuteness” and bubbly banter. I remember thinking, What’s HER problem? (Although I was pretty good at hiding these thoughts and appearing to be a sweet, kind young lady, these things nevertheless crossed my mind.) Now I realize the real reason a lot of older people move and behave the way they do – they’re in pain! Yes, old people can hurt, too – and I’m guessing they hurt a lot. (Guess how I know?) There’s a good chance at least some of the grouches may have been seeing through my facade, knowing that I was totally clueless, not the godly young lady I fancied myself to be. Perhaps they were thinking, You’ll get your turn, sweetie...

Now my turn has come, and as I said, it’s has been a very humbling experience.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, You didn’t have to come to earth and share our pain and suffering, but You did – even to the cross! We can’t fathom such a great love – taking the punishment we deserve so we don’t have to face an eternity of pain and regret. Although we tend to avoid pain, help us learn the lessons it can teach us, not the least of which is compassion for the suffering of others, in Your name. Amen.