A few weeks ago my aunt died. At the time no deep observations struck me; only the usual immediate feelings assailed me, and still are. After a few days, though, and lots of thinking combined with emotion, several things have been heavy on my heart, but they can all be summed up with one phrase: We will all meet God.
My aunt was only 67. My grandparents are both well into their 80’s, so that seems like quite a young age to pass away at. The young age brought me to some more thoughts. I think most people tend to presume that they will be able to put off important things. “I don’t need to be disciplined about that now; I can do that when I’m a little older.” The cold hard fact is, though, that no one knows the day or the hour in which their soul will be required of them. In that moment, there is no place for procrastination. You can put off the dealings of your soul for no longer. There is no time to say “Wait, Lord, let me do this first,” or “I was going to START reading my Bible,” or “Give me time to deal with this sin.” Your account must be settled before you are kneeling before His throne. In that moment, there is no more chance for mercy. During those seconds, you must stand before the Almighty God and be held accountable for what you did or did not do during the fleeting moments you had on earth. God does not call us to a lackadaisical approach to Christianity. He does not ask us to only show up at church on Sunday, and live our lives as the world does, with only a tip of the hat to holiness. He does not call us to a cultural Christianity, where we can claim the name of “Christian” yet live with no devotion to Christ. This last Sunday, the pastor (filling in for my dad) mentioned that in our culture people tend to view God as some kind of band-aid to patch up all their problems. You feel like something’s wrong, so you approach Christ as a temporary fix. That is not the Biblical view of Christ.
At the funeral, I was mourning for my aunt. Also, I was mourning for the loss of an era—that of my grandparents. This last week has brought back a multitude of memories that were made with my papa’s parents. My grandma died ten years ago, along with another of my aunts. Since that time, family gatherings with the Edwards side of the family became few and far between. Standing in my Aunt’s house created a sense of déjà vu. I hadn’t been there in probably ten years or so, and it was a strange reminiscent feeling. I expected it to be as it used to be. Needless to say, it was not. I think, that for many people, loss is a distant concept. It has been for me at times in the past. Then, one day, it becomes something that is there, close, and seeming not very real. But for a few moments at least, you are forced to face loss, think about it, and deal with it. It fades, but will always there in the background.
I mourn because my papa lost another of his sisters, and now he and his last sister are all that remains of my grandparents family. But also I mourn because I was so rarely bold about the gospel. We don’t expect that our relatives will be suddenly taken, and when they are, it occurs to you that you have often been reticent in the sharing of the Word with them. My dad did a phenomenal job at the funeral. First he did a short biography of my aunt, and after that he did something much more important—Gave a clear, forceful presentation of the gospel. He pointed out that we are all sinners, that we have a warning in this life, and no more chances in the next. After that he explained what you do about it. Everyone in that room heard the most important things they will ever hear. The Word was spoken, and won’t return void.

There is a song by This Hope that I heard again recently, and it seemed quite fitting.
Someday soon, there’s going to be a great reunion by the sea,
I’ll see my Jesus, cross the water, spread His arms to carry me.
I’m going home, to be with Jesus; I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry. I’m going home now, to the other side.
Someday soon, He’ll read my name, and call me home where there’s no pain,
Nor more crying, and no more sorrow; land where milk and honey flow.
I’m going home to be with Jesus, I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry; I’m going home now to the other side.

I lied. I couldn’t stay away for two whole weeks this time. Two whole months away from facebook, I could manage. But to actually plan  to take two weeks away from my blog is simply, well, unheard of and unlikely.
Typically when I’m chronically enjoying something, I have to share it with the world, so that they can of course try it out as well. It’d be simply awful to keep all that happiness to myself, and of course if I like something, then it would only follow that everyone else would… right? Well, perhaps not. But it’s a happy idea at least.
Anyhow….  What’s on my mind is books and devotionals. And music. And tea. (the former are taking up much more space than the latter, I can assure you.)
I recently started a book called Heroes, by Iain Murray. I got it from my papa for Christmas. (I have a book list that I constantly update. Currently it’s stuck to my bulletin board with a geronimo dart thing, so it’s the most prominent display if he ever is looking for it. {not that I have a birthday coming up or anything……….} ) Pardon me for the digression. It’s comprised of several biography-esque small sections. That is, instead of writing all about George Whitefield’s life, it takes a predominating theme and expands on it. For example: “George Whitefield and Christian Unity” addresses largely Whitefield’s effect on the Great Awakening and the church in promoting true catholicity. Apparently Whitefield did quite a bit to help reconcile varying denominations to each other’s existence. Obviously not totally, but much more than they were before. It actually reminds me of the motto for FIRE (fellowship of independent reformed evangelicals), which is “In essentials, unity; In nonessentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” That being said, I’m currently working through “Jonathan Edwards: The Man and the Legacy.” It helps to have a full biographical background already in mind, so I’m enjoying this one a bit more than Whitefield, to be honest. Next up: John Newton: ‘A Wonder to Myself’. I highly recommend it.
The other is one I’ve been touting to, well, pretty much everyone I meet. I apologize if I already mentioned it here. Right Thinking in a World Gone Wrong, by John MacArthur. So far, it’s been dousing me with oodles of conviction. Therefore, I’m taking it in small doses. (Not because I shy away from being convicted about more than one thing at a time; rather, because it gives me more time to think, consider, and dwell on one issue at a time. My poor brain can’t handle much more than that.) This one may make my top ten of 2010 book list. (do i have to finish it in 2010 to count it on that list??)
The third and final recommendation comes in the form of an excerpt. You’re already familiar with the book, as I use it all the time here. Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening. I loved this particular one, because the other night it was exactly what I needed to hear to get my mind and heart on track, and be focusing on a glorious truth that sometimes is overlooked. It was encouraging, and brought my thoughts to where they needed to be—On Christ, and dwelling with Him, rather than on myself and the temporal earth, the things that pass away.

Evening, January 10.
“In my flesh shall I see God.” – Job 19:26
Mark the subject of Job’s devout anticipation-- “I shall see God.” He does not say, “I shall see the saints”—though doubtless that will be untold felicity – but, “I shall see God.” It is not -- “I shall see the pearly gates, I shall behold the walls of jasper, I shall gaze upon the crowns of gold,” but “I shall see God.” This is the sum and substance of heaven, this is the joyful hope of all believers. It is their delight to see Him now in the ordinances by faith. They love to behold Him in communion and prayer; but there in heaven they shall have an open and unclouded vision, and thus seeing “Him as He is,” shall be made completely like Him. Likeness to God – what can we wish for more? And a sight of God—what can we desire better? Some read the passage, “Yet, I shall see God in my flesh,” and find here an allusion to Christ, as the “Word made flesh,” and that glorious beholding of Him which shall be the splendour of the latter days. Whether so or not it is certain that Christ shall be the object of our eternal vision; nor shall we ever want any joy beyond that of seeing Him. Think not that this will be a narrow sphere for the mind to dwell in. It is but one source of delight, but that source is infinite. All His attributes shall be subjects for contemplation, and as He is infinite under each aspect, there is no fear of exhaustion. His works, His gifts, His love to us, and His glory in his purposes, and in all His actions, these shall make a theme which will be ever new. The patriarch looked forward to this sight of God as a personal enjoyment. “Whom mine eye shall behold, and not another.” Take realizing views of heaven’s bliss; think what it will be to you. “THINE eyes shall see the King in His beauty.” All earthly brightness fades and darkens as we gaze upon it, but here is a brightness which can never dim, a  glory which can never fade -- “I shall see God!”

I hope you have a lovely day.

At Last…

Lest you be confused from the beginning, let me point out this—No, despite the title, this isn’t a blog centered around Etta James. I do love that song though…. (despite the frustrating current connotations with it and the president. Ugh)
If you know me extremely well, or talk to me fairly often, you know that I’ve been slightly, well, off lately. “Off” meaning the following: Self-absorbed, moderately depressed, un-encouraged, and in general “not as one should be”. (If you didn’t notice this, don’t feel bad…. I try very hard to keep things like that from people. It just speaks for my mad skill at concealment.) In fact, the significance of the “At Last,” is this—At last,  I’m done with this sadness, this frustration that has enveloped me for the last few weeks/months. God is in control, my inheritance is in heaven, and there is nothing strong enough to stop me from rejoicing. This morning, I forced myself to spend some quality hours with my Bible, prayer, and several daily reads. Two of them were so good that I HAVE to share them here. Please read them! I love my excerpts. They save me from having to dig deep inside my brain to come up with the originality and brilliance of theological points that others have already written books on. (Not that it’s stopping me from writing my own book.)

Voices from the Past, October 7.
Our citizenship is in heaven. – Philippians 3:20
Faith enters within the veil and moves the soul out of the valleys of sense to the glories of heaven. The treasures of most men are perishing, earthly, cankered, and moth-eaten treasures. Where is yours, O Christian? Is it in this world, or the next? Is it in present vanities, or future glory? Is it in present contentments, or in an everlasting inheritance? Is it in corn and wine or in the light of God’s countenance? Is it in profits, pleasures, and honours, or in grace and glory? Do you build, plant, and sow for heaven? Many profess the hope of heaven, but meanwhile in their conversations they savour only earthly things. If a man’s profession is ever so heavenly, but he is overtaken by earthly living, that man’s religion is vain. Never talk of a name in heaven, so long as your heart is buried in the earth. If your heart is earthly, your name is in the earth. Do you live by sense or faith? Do you live upon the earthly, or upon the promises? Is it your highest cause of rejoicing that your name is written in heaven? Do you set your joy and heart upon this mercy? If you could enjoy all the outward blessings imaginable—the fairest estate, highest honours, sweetest children, and the richest pleasures—but in the midst of all these, your conscience troubles you within, you are strangers and enemies to God, you have no part in Christ or His death, and your names are not written in the book of life—O how this would cause your heart to sink before all your blessings! Earthly joys ebb and flow, blossom and wither, but heavenly joys are abiding. No man can take your joy from you. Who would not retire from the noise of a distracting world to rest his soul in the joys of the world to come? Whatever you enjoy in the world—riches, honours, pleasures, children, health, and beauty—let your joy be in God.
Matthew Mead, A Name in Heaven, pp. 44-74

And the second one--

Morning and Evening, Morning October 7.
“Wherefore hast Thou afflicted Thy servant?”  -- Numbers 11:11
Our heavenly Father sends us frequent troubles to try our faith. If our faith be worth anything, it will stand the test. Gilt is afraid of fire, but gold is not: the paste gem dreads to be touched by the diamond, but the true jewel fears no test. It is a poor faith which can only trust God when friends are true, the body full of health, and the business profitable; but that is true faith which holds by the Lord’s faithfulness when friends are gone, when the body is sick, when spirits are depressed and the light of our Father’s countenance is hidden. A faith which can say, in the direst trouble, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him,” is heaven-born faith. The Lord afflicts His servants to glorify Himself, for He is greatly glorified in the graces of Hi people, which are His own handiwork. When “tribulation worketh patience; and patience experience; and experience, hope,” the Lord is honoured by these growing virtues. We should never know the music of the harp if the strings were left untouched; nor enjoy the juice of the grape if it were not trodden in the winepress; nor discover the sweet perfume of cinnamon if it were not pressed and beaten; nor feel the warmth of fire if the coals were not utterly consumed. The wisdom and power of the great Workman are discovered by the trials through which His vessels of mercy are permitted to pass. Present afflictions tend also to heighten future joy. There must be shades in the picture to bring out the beauty of the heavenly lights. Could we be so supremely blessed in heaven, if we had not known the curse of sin and the sorrow of earth? Will not peace be sweeter after conflict, and rest more welcome after toil? Will not the recollection of past sufferings enhance the bliss of the glorified? There are many other comfortable answers to the question with which we opened our brief meditation, let us muse upon it all day long.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon.

I hope you were encouraged a bit by these… They did wonders for me.

Coffee shop intruders.

I saw something the other day that sent me through a myriad of emotions and thought processes. At a Starbucks in Oregon, a person walked in front of me, and all I noticed was that they were wearing a shirt that on the back said, “On the first day, man created god.” It had Michelangelo’s painting of man’s hand reaching towards what is presumably God’s, in the background. The front of the shirt had the molecule symbol, with the words “Secular Alliance” and a web address.
This brought out a variety of reactions in me, one of which was probably not good. My first, knee-jerk response was a quick flash of defensive anger. I’m aware that there are people who think that way, but usually they don’t go posting it on their backs in a declaration to the world. The mockery it attempted to make of a Holy God, and of the things I believe in, immediately ‘got my hackles up,’ so to speak.
My second reaction was curiosity about her specifically. What had brought her to think that way, and to proclaim her beliefs, or lack thereof, to everyone she sees? Does her family think the same way, or are they perhaps grieving for her lack of belief? Does she even have family?
My third reaction was great pity and compassion. While we stood next to each other, waiting for our drinks, (which, by the way, was a long while. Don’t ever go to the Starbucks next to Fred Meyer, in Bend, Oregon. Always have slow service there.) my heart broke a little for her. What kind of life must an atheist lead? How can they sleep at night? Do they simply narcotize themselves by claiming “no” belief in God, and making valiant efforts not to think about it? And if they do, what kind of despair would that lead to? If you have no thoughts of eternity, no expectation of heaven, no joy and peace given by a gracious God, what do you live for? Where does she go when life gets hard? I cannot imagine living in that sad sort of box. A dark, silent box, in a way, where you can see nothing beyond your own troubles and despair. On earth, you may be able to stand alone and shout your heresies from the rooftops, and no one will bat an eye. But when it comes to the judgment day, you cannot stand alone to face God. You have to have been redeemed by His son’s blood. I wanted to talk to her, but I had people waiting for me. Now I’m ashamed that I didn’t say something. I wanted to ask her about her shirt, what prompted it, why she thinks that, etc, but all I could think was “They’re waiting in the car for you, and you won’t have time to really get into a good discussion.” So, then I went to plan B, which was to pull a card with a verse and a website on it out to give it to her, but of course I’d left that card in my other purse.
Then I left. I walked out of Starbucks, and she walked out behind me. She got into a car across from me, and I saw the Darwin fish on the back. You know the one, where they take the “Jesus fish” symbol, and put the word “Darwin” in it instead. (Also, usually when I see that, it makes me mad) Having not talked to her, or witnessed to her, I began to pray for her, and still am. But somehow I feel like I failed a little bit. That would’ve been a perfect opportunity, with a great opening. Yet, I walked away without saying a word. In a way, I can see why I did. Part of it was trepidation that I would say the wrong thing, but in all honestly, I mostly didn’t want to keep my parents waiting longer than necessary, and I didn’t want to start a discussion I couldn’t finish. The next time, however, I think I will just do it. Nevermind who is waiting for me, when I have the opportunity to plant a seed to get someone thinking about the Gospel.
All that aside, my very last reaction was this: Great joy that God has saved my soul! That I am not a party to the despair that pervades the lives of the unsaved! I don’t say that with a sense of superiority, thinking “Oh, so glad I’m not like HER!”, but with a sense of joy born of thankfulness. It was, in a way, a good reminder of what God has done for me.  Without God’s grace extended to me, I might be wearing a shirt just like that.
Oh, on another note of people intruding on you in coffee shops…. I was having coffee with a friend, and noticed a guy hanging around for a bit too long, apparently eavesdropping. We talked about a variety of things, such as music, church, books, etc. Then, he wanders over, a bit too buoyantly, hands my friend a piece of paper, says something incoherent about Taylor Swift, and then says to me, “Do you read my blog?”  I said, “I don’t know, what’s the name of your blog?” (I wanted to say something like “NO, you creep, why would you approach two young women and ask if they’d read your blog? Now back off!” However, I managed to mangle out a gracious smile. (I think. My friend may have a different opinion of what my facial expression was…) He’d written the name and web address of his blog down, as well as his name, and the phrase “The spirit of prophecy is the testimony of Jesus.” Then he said “Oh, it’s called ‘The Lost Tribes of Israel.’” He said a few other things, but he talked extremely fast, and was also not making sense. Aside from being extremely weirded out, no harm was done, and he left as quickly as he came, leaving us sitting there gaping at each other and trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Now I’m going to have to visit his blog, just to satisfy my curiosity!
Well, I’m supposed to be out working in the yard, so that must conclude this. (Can I say that? “That must conclude This?”) Well, that’s that, so no more of this. (While I’m mutilating grammar, I might as well go the whole way.)

A note from Ryle.

Considering the fact that all of my recent posts have been largely narrative, or suggestions on various things, it's definitely time for a good, solid, quote. Or lengthy excerpt, in this case. I HIGHLY recommend reading it.

Thus, here are several thoughts from J.C. Ryle's "Expository Thoughts on the Gospels," Vol. I.
The passage of scripture he based this section on is Matthew II  1-12.

I'm not putting all his thoughts on this here-- instead, I'm picking and choosing.


....These verses teach us, that there may be knowledge of scripture in the head, while there is no grace in the heart. Mark how king Herod sends to inquire of the priests and elders "where Christ should be born." Mark what a ready answer they return him, and what an acquaintance with the letter of Scripture they show. But they never went to Bethlehem to seek for the coming Saviour. They would not believe in Him, when He ministered among them. Their heads were better than their hearts. --Let us beware of resting satisfied with head-knowledge. It is an excellent thing, when rightly used. But a man may have much of it, and yet perish everlastingly. What is the state of our hearts? This is the great question. A little grace is better than many gifts. Gifts alone save no one. But grace leads on to glory.
The conduct of the wise men described in this chapter is a splendid example of spiritual diligence. What trouble is must have cost them to travel from their homes to the house where Jesus was born! How many weary miles they must have journeyed! The fatigues of an Eastern traveller are far greater than we in England can at all understand. The time that such a journey would occupy must necessarily have been very great. The dangers to be encountered were neither few nor small. But none of these things moved them. They had set their hearts on seeing Him "that was born King of the Jews;" and they never rested till they saw Him. They prove to us the truth of the old saying, "Where there is a will there is a way."

It would be well for all professing Christians if they were more ready to follow the wise men's example. Where is our self-denial? What pains do we take about our souls? What diligence do we show about following Christ? What does our religion cost us? These are serious questions. They deserve serious consideration.
Last, but not least, the conduct of the wise men is a striking example of faith. They believed in Christ when they had never seen Him; but that was not all. They believed in Him when the Scribes and Pharisees were unbelieving; but that again was not all. They believed in Him when they saw Him a little infant on Mary's knee, and worshipped Him as a king. This was the crowning point of their faith. They saw no miracle to convince them. They heard no teaching to persuade them. They beheld no signs of divinity and greatness to overawe them. They saw nothing but a newborn infant, helpless and weak, and needing a mother's care like any one of ourselves. And yet when they saw that infant, they believed that they saw the divine Saviour of the world. "They fell down and worshipped Him."
We read of no greater faith than this in the whole volume of the Bible. It is a faith that deserves to be placed side by side with that of the penitent thief. The thief saw one dying the death of a malefactor, and yet prayed to Him, and "called Him Lord." The wise men saw a newborn babe on the lap of a poor woman, and yet worshipped Him and confessed that He was Christ. Blessed indeed are those that can believe in this fashion!
This is the kind of faith, let us remember, that God delights to honor. We see the proof of that at this very day. Wherever the Bible is read the conduct of these wise men is known, and told as a memorial of them. Let us walk in the steps of their faith. Let us not be ashamed to believe in Jesus and confess Him, though all around us remain careless and unbelieving. Have we not a thousand-fold more evidence than the wise men had, to make us believe that Jesus is the Christ? Beyond doubt we have. Yet where is our faith?

-- J. C. Ryle.