The Race

A few years ago I participated in a 5K race. I am not a runner, but I like to pretend I’m one. Plus, competing in a race gives me excellent motivation to exercise beforehand.

Unfortunately, my plan didn’t work out. I failed to get in shape before the race, and I had trouble running the 3-mile course. Truth be known, I walked most of it. But as I neared the finish line, 48 minutes and 30-odd seconds after starting, crowds of runners who had already finished were gathered alongside the track and were cheering for me and the other stragglers.

“You're almost there!” one said. “Keep going! You're almost finished!” another shouted. Their high-fives and encouraging words gave me the strength to finish what I'd started.

Most of these folks didn’t know me; I was just a fellow runner in the race. I started to fight back tears. It reminded me of what heaven will be like, and of the crowd of witnesses who has gone on before me. I imagined them waiting for me, cheering me on to finish the race of life with endurance, and ultimately welcoming me with open arms.

The Bible tells us that because Jesus died on the Cross for our sins, our entrance fee to Heaven has been paid in full. However, how we get there will depend on how we run the race. Some believers will breeze into heaven, like a friend of mine who runs marathons without breaking a sweat. Others will be tired, but will be grateful for the training they endured. Others will pass the pearly gates limping, red-faced, and unable to speak because they'll be so winded. But however one gets to heaven, I'm confident it will be a time of celebration, a wonderful homecoming filled with sweet reunions. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses… let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Hebrews 12:1-2 (NLT)

The Name

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” wrote Shakespeare in his famous play, Romeo and Juliet.

But one name really is better than the rest. It’s the Name above all other names. It is so powerful, that in some countries, it is forbidden. Those who embrace the Name are tortured, jailed, and even killed.

This Name produces a variety of reactions. Blasphemers hate it. It is a thorn in their flesh. Sinners cling to it. They know it is their only hope. Followers love it. It is the sweetest sound they’ve ever heard.

At the mention of this name, demons flee in terror. The wind and the rain are silenced. The dead are raised. The crippled walk. The blind see. The deaf hear.

When this name is embraced, fears vanish. Anxieties are quieted. Worries are put to rest.  There is peace—indescribable peace between man and God. Why? Because He is Immanuel, God with us. His name means Savior, the One who will save us from our sins. He is Christ, the Anointed One. He is the One and only Son of the Most High God. He is Jehovah-Jireh, our Provider. He is Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. He is the Word of God, in flesh. He’s the Prince of Peace.

Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:10 (NLT)

A New Day

We mark time in different ways. An anniversary, a birthday, a holiday, the start of a new year. Today I'm remembering one year ago today.

It was on that day when I took three pregnancy tests. Two in quick succession, another one a few hours later. All had a double line. Pregnant. My hands shook and I wondered if it could be true. I cried tears of happiness, alone in my bathroom, and I waited anxiously for my husband of just four months to get home from work to share the news.

It had been a busy week. Just the day prior we had flown home from Chicago. A funeral. My mother's funeral. We saw her laid to rest, in the plot next to my father. He was buried there just four years earlier.

But despite being tired from travel and grief, I couldn't rest. I was having a baby! I went to Home Depot and bought a decorating magazine for kids' rooms. I clipped my favorite pictures and hung them on the wall in what was then the "Man Cave."

When Ken walked in the door from work, I told him I was starting a new project. He looked at me inquisitively. I said it was in the Man Cave and asked him to close his eyes as I led him in there. I guided him to the wall where the nursery pictures hung. He stood there for a moment, staring, digesting. Silent. And then he said, "Is this what I think it is?" I said yes, and we hugged and hugged and hugged.

That week marked the end of one journey and the start of a new one. Today, as I bounced Jack on the exercise ball (yes, that's how he likes to fall asleep), I stared out the sliders at the lake. I watched ducks skim the surface of the water, leaving white foamy water in their wake. Then they'd take off, circle round, and another would follow. I thought about how much my mama loved watching the birds on that very lake. She'd sit on her balcony, just across the lake from our place, and drink her coffee, knit, and watch those crazy birds.

I imagine there's a viewing room in heaven, reserved for parents. There's a glass window where they can gaze down and see what their children are doing and what's going on in the world. My mom's window is positioned just above Lake Emerald. There she can watch the ducks splash and swim, and she can see her youngest daughter bouncing her only grandson to sleep.

We're all OK, mama. We're all OK.

What I've Been Up To ...

Seven years ago I moved to Florida. It's been a wild ride:

I got a dog, got married, and got pregnant. I was the top editor at a newspaper and the lowest secretary at a school. I bought my first place at rock-bottom prices only to have the bottom fall out. I traveled to the countries of Romania, Yemen, Jordan, and Texas. I lost my mother and father, a job, three men who weren’t marriable, and the hearing in my right ear. I was employed by a mega church and a megalomaniac. I maintained terrific long-distance friendships and made a few new friends. I learned that family is one of God’s greatest gifts. I learned that every loss, every bump, and every bruise was all part of the Plan. I became a fan of Spanish steak, white rice, black beans, and big puffy clouds. I discovered I’m more comfortable with diversity when I’m still part of the majority. I learned that being lonely and alone is a lot better than being lonely in a crowd. I became a blogger, a business owner, a wife, and a mother.

All in all, I wouldn’t trade the past seven years for anything.

Liquid Courage

I've never seen the movie "The Exorcist," but I'm sure it's got nothing on the true accounts of exorcisms in the Bible.

In Acts Chapter 16, Luke tells us that after exorcising a demon from a fortuneteller/slave girl, Paul and Silas were thrown in jail. Why? Because this demon-possessed girl was a money machine for her master. Once the demon left her, she could no longer perform her "magic."

I don't think Paul and Silas set out to ruin a business. They just wanted this girl to be free to serve the one true God. So while they sat behind prison bars, I imagine they were tempted to be discouraged. What did these two friends do? They sang. And sang. And sang some more. 

Friends can be very powerful in our lives. At their best, they encourage us...literally pour courage into us. Paul and Silas gave each other a dose of liquid courage by proclaiming God's promises and protection through song. Their hymns probably recounted God's unchanging attributes, His love, and His compassionate care for His people. 

The Bible says the other prisoners were listening while they sang. I wish I could've seen their faces! Who sings in prison? Who sings when they're in trouble? Who sings when they're backed up against the wall and facing an unknown future? Paul and Silas did, because that's what friends do. They encourage each other, and they remind one another of the Truth.

What do you do when you're in trouble? How do you encourage a friend who's going through a tough time? You may not be able to carry a tune, but you can surely remind your friend—and yourself—of God's amazing grace.

I'm so thankful for friends who pour courage into me.  I hope you have friends like that, too.
 

The Difference

Even though Jack is too young to understand much, I still sing to him and talk to him as though he can. I suspect babies start understanding what we're saying much earlier than we know, and I don't want to miss a single chance to tell him that I love him and share with him all the things I think are important. Or silly. Or funny or interesting.

This morning at 5 am he was cooing quietly in his crib. His chubby little legs were starting to kick up and down, and I knew he was in need of a diaper change and a bottle.

I walked quietly into his nursery and said, "Happy Easter, Jackson! Christ the Lord is risen today! He is risen indeed!"

He looked at me with wide eyes and cooed again. I picked him up and carried him to the changing table, singing one of my favorite Easter songs. Then I stopped and said to him, "Today we are going to church to celebrate the Lord's resurrection. Won't that be wonderful? And after that we're going to Auntie Debbie's for lunch ... and I think the Easter bunny (aka Auntie Melody) might bring you a basket of goodies!"

He looked at me with wide eyes--probably more in response to the sing-songy, hopeful tone in my voice than to the content of my actual words. As I changed his diaper, I said to him, "You know Jackson, the great thing about Jesus is that He is good to us even when we've been naughty and don't deserve it. The Easter bunny is great, too, but he only brings us gifts when we've been good."

In this world of "Get-what-you-deserve," I want to be sure my son knows that in God's kingdom everything is turned upside down. Jesus got what we deserve--punishment for sin, separation from His Father, and death. And we get what we don't deserve: grace, mercy, blessings, the acceptance and approval of the Father, and the hope of life eternal in heaven.

It's a pretty cool system!

I'm not against the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus. I want Jack to enjoy the wonder and merriment of these fictional characters. But even more I want him to love and adore the One who deserves all our praise!

Crying is Permitted

That's what the sign says. I noticed it this morning at church. Jack had a small meltdown during the service, so we left our seats and went to the soundproof "Baby and Family Room."

The sign reads:

This room is reserved for families with small children.  

Crying is permitted.  

All others are welcome in this room as well.

I've been thinking about it all day. Crying isn't encouraged in our society. Tolerated at times, but  not "permitted" per se.

Maybe it should be.

My son cries. A lot. I think he may have colic, although he hasn't been officially diagnosed. Or maybe he's just a fussy baby. But whatever the case, he's in touch with his emotions.

We'd probably all be happier if we occasionally allowed ourselves a good cry...and if we permitted others to cry as well.

Crying is a sign that something is wrong. And let's be honest--there is much wrong in our lives, and there's plenty to cry about. My pastor says that grief can be an act of worship. It's a declaration that sin is in the world, and it's not the way it's supposed to be. It's a heart-felt cry for Jesus' return--for a place where there will be no more pain, no more suffering ... and no more crying.