... and clarity/ 1

Dear Reader,
By writing the previous post I feel like I have poked around in a hornet's nest. By the help of the Holy Spirit I will figure out how to continue but it will not be done in a blink of an eye that is for sure. 
All I know is that it has to begin and end with Jesus.
John 14:6
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. That is clarity number 1.

Let's rest with that  for a day or two and I'll get back to you.
Ida

Blur

Dear Reader,

When I check stats on daily bases I find that of all the posts I have published there seem to be one that is most frequented. Almost every day there are page-views of this post:

"Eternity in the hearts of men" from 2010

And I wonder how is it that such a long post with such a serious subject is viewed almost every day? Are people searching on Google for "eternity" "hearts of men" or what? Do they ever read to the last line or do they give up in the middle of the story thinking "this is not for me; at least not yet". Since there are no comments I haven't a clue what is going on in people's minds but I wish it would make a difference to somebody out there and bring comfort and hope and be a sign pointing towards Jesus; because that's what it's all about; Jesus our savior and hope.
Today another soul let go of this world and entered into the eternal realm. He had been fighting cancer for a couple of years and he surprised us all more than once. When you thought it was his final day he bounced back up again; sitting in his kitchen with his home care givers; drinking coffee and making plans. His body shrunk and from day to day we could see what the cancer did to him. He became so small; just bone and skin but always with a clear head and mind and he always knew what he wanted. One in our staff visited him this morning but he didn't respond anymore and after a couple of hours his daughter called. She was sitting by his bed, talking to him although she didn't know if he heard her and suddenly she realized that he was gone. He went so quietly.  My colleagues went there to do the usual paperwork and help dress him and later in the afternoon I heard them a couple of times say as to themselves  "Oh ... little man" as a mother would say to her son. It amazes me every time when we leave a patient behind to eternity how we have taken them to our hearts and how they linger in our minds for some time.

Well that was yesterday.

Today I attended a lecture where a Christian priest told about his work at a hospital. It was not a good lecture. He gave an example of Zen Buddhist meditation; had his own philosophy about dying and death and how to live and not a single word was uttered about faith in The Father, the Son or the Holy Spirit; which you would think would be a natural thing to do for a priest of protestant faith. And no salvation through Jesus; no heaven or hell. Eternity was a blurry place somewhere where people were taken care of; where people “were at peace”.  

The Bible is more specific about eternity than just a “blur”. The Bible is very clear about what happens after death.  Either you are in the presence of God or you are not. Either you are saved by grace through Jesus Christ or you are not. There is no gray area in between; no anonymous place where you can hide for a while if you want. You are departed forever from God or you are in his presence forever. And you choose in this life and not in the next. Now and here is the place to make a decision; not when the door of eternity is closed.

…. To be continued

Who Am I

...and a story

Dear Reader,
I have been hesitant to post this story and waited a couple of days but somehow I can't get around it.
I've been thinking about this since I listened to the book of Romans.

It was the week before my 10th birthday. I was eager to get home from school in the afternoon. It was a rather warm day in May; the sky was blue and life wasn’t so bad, at least on that day.
I came into the kitchen and saw through the bedroom door my mother sitting beside her sewing machine in front of the window.

-          Take your bike and go to the bridge and see what all the commotion is all about, she said. People are running back and forth on the road, and have been doing it for the past hour.

-          No, I don’t want to … I need to do some homework.

-          It doesn’t take you long to get there and back, …

-          I don’t want to go, I said and went outside.

My mother was angry, but I refused to obey.

Soon enough we learned what all the commotion was all about. A woman next door came and told my mother that there had been an accident and a few minutes later a stranger entered into our kitchen. He introduced himself as the chief of police from the nearby town and in one sentence he told my mother that her husband was dead. He had drowned while floating timber down the river.

My spontaneous reaction was “Oh no, and he wasn’t saved!” 

The policeman looked at me with a strange expression; excused himself and left the house. Other neighbors came and silently discussed how it could have happened … the accident.

Somebody said an uncle and other men from the village were searching for my father’s body; dragging hooks on the bottom of the river with boats. It took hours but finally late that evening the body was found and transported on a tractor trailer to our house. One of my aunts said I should follow her home so I didn’t have to watch the men carrying my father into the house. After an hour at my aunt’s house, my mother called and said I should return home. It was the longest walk I’ve ever done.

I didn’t know what to expect when coming into the house but my mother took me into the living room where a row of chairs stood in the middle of the room and my father’s body was stretched out on those chairs. I didn’t dare look at him but wanted to hold my mother’s hand because I was scared but nobody cared or comforted me. My whole body felt like it became consumed by fear. Nobody ever gave it a second thought what a trauma this was to me. 

My father lay on the chairs in the living room that night while my mother and I slept in the bedroom behind the kitchen. Next day the undertaker came and moved the body into a coffin. It was custom to “sing the dead from the house” and neighbors and relatives started to arrive. Soon the whole house was full of people everywhere. I hid in the bedroom and I felt totally alone although I was surrounded by people wherever I turned. I could hear that a pastor came; he said a few word; my grandmother recited a psalm, they all sang a hymn and the undertaker and his men carried the coffin to the black funeral car. Neighbors, relatives and my mother huddled together in the few cars that were available and followed the funeral car to the chapel where the coffin would stand until following week when the funeral would take place.

I was told to stay at home with a cousin as “babysitter”. 

And so I fell ill and on the day of the funeral it was decided that I should stay at home. My mother came home from the funeral dry eyed; and never mentioned the funeral or those past days after that day and I didn’t ask.

But many years later my mother suddenly brought up the subject and told me that during the week before the funeral, she had prayed to God that he would give her a Bible verse that could bring some light over what had happened to my father and when she reached for the Bible it fell open to Romans 8 verse 1-2. It convinced her that my father had been saved before he died.  She also told me that when the men had lifted him up into the boat his hands had been folded as in prayer and they could not take them apart.

When she told me this I remembered something else from my childhood. 

My father often went to auctions and came home with various items that could be classified anywhere between trash and treasures, and one of those items was a huge family Bible. My father told my mother that he was going to read this Bible from page to page during a year. She didn't believe him but he started to read and I remember him sitting with this Bible in front of him in the room full of those auction bargains. He never confessed faith in God and only once he accompanied mother and me to a church service. It was strange to sit beside him in the pew, and at one time during the service I looked up into his face and tears were rolling down his cheeks. I dared not say or do anything and nobody ever mentioned his tears but maybe God had that once – in – a – lifetime chance and touched his heart. 

My father was a troubled man and my constant prayer prior to the day he died was “Please God let father die before mother because I don’t know how I could live with him.” Eventually a child’s prayer was heard.

I have fantasized about how it would be if my father was alive today and now as an adult I could confront him about things that went on in my childhood. What his answer would be when I asked him why he thought he had a reason and the right to beat my mother. Why he hated me so much a certain evening when I accidentally locked him out of the house and didn’t know how to turn the key backward. Why he screamed on top of his lungs through the door so even my mother who was in the cow house heard him. She saved me from his rage but I never forget the anger in his eyes. Why it didn’t seem to cross his mind that I was only a child.  

Maybe I would ask him about the Bible reading and if it had any impact on him. Did it open up his heart to Jesus?  I will never get an answer and I will never get the chance to ask but I know one thing for sure; God's mercy was sufficient for my father, no matter how he had lived his life.

I have listened to many Bible studies about the book of Romans. It has been turned inside out and analyzed by many scholars but now that I think of it this verses in chapter 8 sums up the book;

“Therefore, there is no longer any condemnation awaiting those who are in union with the Messiah Yeshua.” (from Complete Jewish Bible)

When cold deep water surround you and you know this will be the end of your life I think the shortest way to salvation is “Help me Jesus!” Not much time to think about the right way to ask for salvation. Not much time to put ones act together. Not much time for anything else but “Save me Jesus!”  My father's folded hands speak of a possibility that in a split second the shortest prayer to God: “Jesus!” can bring a soul into eternal fellowship with God.

Sincerely yours, Ida

A Bibel verse ...with a sad memory ...

Romans chapter 8

 Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, 

² because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.