Saturday, March 27, 2010

my disclaimer.....i think?

a couple of weeks ago i began a week of contemplation and Bible reading about the up-coming celebration of the resurrection of Jesus. the purpose was simple. i wanted to relive in my mind that historic week so that it wouldn't be just another year celebrating a story that i read in a book. this God/Man did the unthinkable, and He did it for me. passing this "Easter" as just another holiday with bunnies and eggs is a pitiful statement for a Christian to make to the world. so i set out to read and share with my friends the scriptures that lead us to that glorious day of victory. i wrote verses each day on my facebook page and by friday of that week i was emotionally ecstatic and truly filled with awe and honor. i could hardly wait for sunday to arrive to celebrate in worship to Him.

saturday came and ron and i spent the day together doing old people activities; eye appointments, shopping for groceries, sitting in front of the tv watching old westerns and black and white movies. i mentioned to ron more than once that i needed to purchase small Easter gifts for the children in my sunday school class and for my secret pal. he said nothing. at one point i remarked that "tomorrow is Palm Sunday" and we would be celebrating our pastor's sixty-ninth preaching anniversary. he spoke not a word. again i said that i was glad i had everything ready for church tomorrow for presenting Easter to the children. silence.

let me just interject here that this is all proof to me that what i have said for years is so true. he never listens to me.

saturday evening a light went off in the dull rooms of that empty cavity where my brain should reside. "ron," said i, "tomorrow isn't Easter! what on earth is wrong with me? tomorrow is Palm Sunday!" still, the man that i love so dearly just nodded his head and said not a word.

sunday morning came and off to church we went. there were no children in my classroom, so i ventured down the hall to sit in on my favorite adult class, perched myself on a chair, and prepared for a great hour of some of the best teaching i have ever experienced.

i can't tell you how it happened. i don't remember anyone saying anything to tip me off. but all of a sudden (you know, that light in the empty hole in my head) i realized that i had been living in a foggy haze for the past week. this wasn't Palm Sunday. this wasn't Easter Sunday. it would be another week before we would celebrate Christ's entry into Jerusalem city, and two before we would sing "He Arose". can you just imagine how i felt, the thoughts i was thinking about myself, the humiliation of knowing that facebook readers were probably scratching their heads wondering why i was writing such things two whole weeks ahead of schedule?

my only explanation, and thank God i have one, is that i am old. age does strange things to your body and to your mind. all of us age differently. some are old at 50. some still climb mountains and ski at 75. some become Bible scholars and preach until they can hardly stand or see. some go off temporarily into self- manufactured worlds that don't exist yet. some just mentally go away.

i say all this for two reasons. one: i'm so embarrassed about this happening. i'm mystified at why it happened. two: this occurrence needs to be recorded for future reference. it may happen again. if so, let's consider what needs to be done, you know, like take her keys away so she doesn't stray like a lost kitty. perhaps even put bars on the doors and windows to protect the neighbors. but, above all, we need to recognize that this woman is just losing her cabbage, and patience and understanding are necessary. i plea to you for patience and understanding.

if it never happens again we can just chalk it up to an idiot in her dotage.

so, that's my story, and i'm sticking to it! the next story posted here is the Good Friday story that i wrote in my dotage....i hope.

Friday, March 19, 2010


Today is a very special day for me, and it's a very special day for many people who have made a decision to accept the most precious gift that was ever offered to this world. Professing Christians have labeled this day "Good Friday", and for me it celebrates one of the most important days in history on this earth. It celebrates the death of our God Who became a man named Jesus of Nazareth, with the sole purpose of dying for you and for me.

Celebrating the death of a man hardly seems appropriate, and calling it a "Good" day also appears to mock the man or the day it represents. More likely would be to celebrate the man's birthday, which we do in many instances, and this one included, or to celebrate a victorious occasion in their life. At the time, the death of this man did not seem victorious. In fact, many of His followers were confused, heart-broken, and wondered at the wisdom of believing in Him. One man was so confused and misled that he took his own life out of despair for his confusion and wrong actions that led to Jesus' crucifixion.

But celebrate we must. For there was no other way for a lost world to qualify to spend eternity in the presence of a righteous God Who loves us so much that He sacrificed Himself and paid the ultimate price to give us the opportunity to always be with Him! Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Yes, this day and this gift is definitely "Good". When God demanded sacrifices for the sins of the world in Old Testament days the people brought the finest of what they had. Some brought the purest lamb, and some bought the most perfect doves. But these sacrifices had to be repeated to atone for the ongoing sin in the lives of God's people. When would these sacrifices ever be enough to satisfy a perfect God? We could never become clean enough, good enough, because we were incapable as humans, due to Adam's sin, to ever draw close to the perfect, righteous Father Who created us. There had to be a one time sacrifice that covered the sin of the world forever, and there was no other One qualified to be this gift. God came to earth, lived as a man, a perfect man with no flaws, no stain, truly righteous and became that gift on the day we celebrate as "Good Friday".

This "Perfect Sacrifice" was what God accepted as the one gift that would clear our names forever. Never again will we ever have to find another sacrifice. No other gift is needed. Because Jesus' blood flowed unto death, we are now covered by it, premiums paid and, with the gift accepted, we are now ready to join a loving Father eternally, never again to sin, and never again to cry. Jesus told John there are no tears in heaven.

So in three days we celebrate the greatest day of all. Cancelling out our debt in hell He rose up from it, and now reigns with His Father and lives in our lives and hearts. We call it Easter. I have determined in my heart that there is room for no other lord, no other master. He bought me, and I am saved from separation from God because of my deeds; or should I say in spite of my deeds. Yes. I will celebrate His death and His life and His gift. Without these, I am lost. Without these I have no reason to exist.

Friday, March 5, 2010


I really love my blog. It allows me to do something that I've always wanted to do, but I never took the time to do it. I've always wanted to write.

I have continuing stories going on in my head constantly. It's as if I am living in a virtual world, and reality is so humdrum that I escape to another world; one that I create and controll. I have often mentioned to my friend, Marcia, that it makes me feel that I am not exactly mentally balanced, and that escaping to my virtual world is comforting and exciting because it can be anything I want it to be.

I began to talk to my friend, Donna, about my childhood and all the stories that I wanted to tell my grandchildren. Wesley is always asking me questions about things that I did then, and how things were "way back then". When Donna suggested that I use my gift of writing for them and to tell them my stories it was amazing to me that I hadn't thought of it. What a great idea!

I now find myself struggling with what story to tell first. The best is realizing that, no matter the story, what I write is no longer a figment of my imagination, and that these stories really are interesting to the little ones in my life. I rush to my computer each day to explore the memories of my mind and get them written down to pass on. Hopefully these stories will be passed on to great-grandchildren, and they will enjoy the musings of an ancestor that they will never meet.