Category Archives: Heaven

Will I be sorry?

Posted on by

I take the Bible literally, and the verse that says “every knee will bow to the Lord” is, I believe, self-explanatory. God emphasizes it by including it in both the Old and New Testaments.

Even though I’m looking forward to visually connecting with Jesus, a mental picture of the bowing moment gives me pause. I already know what I’ll be thinking: “I wasted so much time on unimportant stuff!”

I wish I could head off that part of it, and maybe I can. The trick is to stop wasting time. If I can accurately define what that is, maybe I can fix things before I get there.

As a child I had to memorize John 15:7 in the King James Version: “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.” It was a verse full of mystery because of my limited understanding of the word “abide” and also because it said I could ask God for anything and get it!

In studying John 15 during the years since childhood, I’m beginning to understand. Jesus was probably saying, “Becoming close friends with me will be your key to happiness.” He even uses the word “friend” three times (about us!) in the next few verses. And what do good friends like to do? Spend time with each other, talk to each other, love each other.

Over the years I’ve also seen that the asking-and-getting part of that verse is totally dependent on the abiding part. After we become close friends with Jesus, our requests will differ radically from those a child would ask.

If I want to do my personal best when kneeling time comes, I need to work now on my friendship with Jesus by carving out time to be together developing our friendship. That includes listening to the words he’s already said (Scripture) and responding back with my own (prayer).

Thankfully, he “gets” the necessity of human to-do lists. But he also lets us know that abiding in him while going about our business is important. He even says, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.” I think he means “at least nothing important, nothing you’ll be happy about when you’re kneeling in front of me.” We can do plenty of things “apart from him,” things he doesn’t sanction, and most of them will get us in trouble. But to accomplish the high-road stuff, we need to abide in him.

Every day I think about Nate and our radically different life-settings. Has he already experienced the kneeling moment described in Scripture? Or will we all be doing that together at the end of time? More importantly, has he been allowed the inconceivable freedom of moving past the inadequacies of that moment? Has he moved into face-to-face friendship with Jesus, uninhibited by human limitations?

It may be quite a while before I get the answers to all these question marks, but I know I will. In the mean time, my interest is in what will come before those answers: my moment to kneel.

“As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me…” (Romans 14:11 and Isaiah 45:23)

Same facts. Two perspectives.

Posted on by

Last night when Jack and I took our late-night walk, he threw himself into the fresh snowdrifts with his feet in the air six different times, reveling in the doggie-joy of making snow angels. He made six angels in eight blocks, a lot of happy dancing, even for him.

I hadn’t dressed warmly enough and was counting the steps till we got home. By the time we reached our driveway, I was shivering but did my own happy dance while opening the back door. Jack, however, was disappointed the walk was over and planted himself at the street-end of the driveway as if to say, “I wanna stay out and play!” Same facts. Two perspectives.

I often think of Nate in this regard. Although he trembled when he first heard something serious might be wrong, after accepting the terminal diagnosis, he became peaceful. For me it was just the opposite. When I heard “pancreatic cancer,” I stayed strong and was able to encourage Nate. But after he accepted that he would die, I broke down often, aghast at that prospect. Same facts. Two perspectives.

I have a choice to look at my “destiny” as Nate’s wife from two perspectives, too. I can dwell on the negatives brought by his death, or I can view widowhood as my calling. Depending on which of those two viewfinders I’m looking through, I can either self-talk a poor-me mentality, or count my blessings.

Many widows would reject the idea that widowhood is a calling. We think of a calling as something special like being called to missions, teaching or the pastorate. It hints at unique giftings and fulfillment in using them. People are called to singlehood, marriage, motherhood. But widowhood?

The word widow conjures up thoughts of a black widow spider, along with the words toxic, venomous, lethal. Books and movies with the word widow in their titles are dark comedies or scary dramas. At best we think of widows as lonely, disadvantaged and needy. Can it be a calling?

I believe it is. Because I’ve committed my life to God’s leadership, I regularly ask him to superimpose his plans over mine. I tell him I’m willing to go through whatever he decides is best to teach me what he wants me to learn. I know my earthly life is preparation for my eternal life, and I’m aware of the many rough edges he needs to eliminate to get me ready. If coping with widowhood is his way to accomplish that, then being a widow is what I want.

As extreme as that sounds, it jives with Scripture: “God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I’ve been called according to his purpose, and his purpose for these days is widowhood. But lest I despair, the verse also says God is working for my good, within my widowhood-calling. And when he offers to work in my life in any capacity, I’m for it!

Same facts. Same perspective.

“We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:28,31b)

The Happy Dance

Posted on by

Because we don’t have a regular couch in our Michigan cottage, Jack has chosen the next best thing as his favorite place to get comfy, an old wing chair. Although I won’t let him climb on the beds (and used mouse traps to convince him), I do let him snuggle in the well-worn easy chair.

Despite loving a soft place to rest, however, Jack’s absolute favorite place to be is outdoors, and his most loved outdoor spot is the beach.

Whenever we arrive there, whether it’s 90 degrees or ten below zero, he initiates his visit with what we call his “happy dance.” He throws himself down on his back with vigor and rolls from side to side, all four legs punching the air. It’s an upside-down hula as he wiggles his hips from side to side like he’s hearing music the rest of us can’t.

He’s taught his cousin-dog Sydney to do the happy dance, and together they thrash around on their backs like a couple of canines-possessed. Mary and I laugh at their abandon, wondering what on earth could possibly be appealing about getting sand and snow up your nose and in your eyes.

But that’s dogs for you. When Jack is doing his happy dance and I’m thinking he looks like an idiot, that doesn’t stop him, nor does he mind my having that opinion. He’s so pleased to be at the beach that his glee just bursts out of him in that way. I wish I could let joy burst out of me like that, not necessarily by rolling around on my back but maybe by singing loudly or twirling in a clumsy dance… even in front of others.

Five of our seven kids have spent time in Youth With A Mission, and each has described the unique worship services they’ve been a part of, all far different than their conservative church background. Part of the lively nature of YWAM worship is due to the happy conglomeration of students from a variety of countries and cultures. But most of it is just a wholehearted response to a deep love of God that bursts out in animated joy.

There’s dancing in the aisles, clapping, tears, waving of arms and hands, running around, spontaneous praying and more. If I was there, my most enthusiastic participation might be a turning up of palms, but that would only happen after I stopped staring at everyone else doing what I wished I could.

I can’t help it if I’m a conservative Swede with a straight-laced upbringing. But my heart for the Lord makes me eager for heaven where I have a hunch inhibitions will fall away and we’ll all be able to happy-dance with abandon, just like the YWAMers…

…and just like Jack.

 “Young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:13)