Revisiting the old neighborhood

Remember your childhood house?  Mine was near Lackland Air Force Base.  Our little pink asbestos-shingled abode served as shelter for 4, and we played baseball in the front and ate hamburgers at our picnic table in the back.  I've driven by the old place several times since, and actually the notion of revisiting comes to mind because a friend recently revisited his high school neighborhood.  Beginning to miss some of his buddies, he headed toward his old stomping ground after work one night.  Along the way, he talked with the Lord and valued the time.  Then when he arrived, the message hit hard.  Misery set in.  He turned off the ignition, just sat in the car, and felt anger and sorrow refloat to the top.  Seeing the old school reminded him of former drug abuse.  Seeing his apartment brought back the days when his mom supplied alcohol and partied with his friends.  His visit became an hour flooded with heartache from life’s worst times.  Yet there was some good in all this.  As pain can grow humility, all the devastating memories and all the shame and regret served to deepen my friend's gratitude toward the Lord.  If still living in his old ways, he says he might be sitting in jail or maybe even dead, and now how earnestly he appreciates the Lord delivering him.  He was newly inspired to live humbly and take the Lord seriously and not waste his second chances.  No more self-righteousness.  And so my friend poses some questions for all of us, “Is there somewhere we need to revisit today?  Somewhere I need to go?  How about you?"

A hospital mop & a string of questions

Hospitals are horrible.  That’s what some people say.  The sterile hallways.  All the blinking lights and beeps from the machines.  It can be scary.  But today I share a hospital story that has the Lord’s light shined into it.  One Friday last month, I visited a friend whose surgery would be the next week.  Part of her preparation for surgery involved discontinuing her blood-thinner, and doing so required an early hospital check-in.  By outward appearance, you’d never know the medical turmoil this friend has endured.  She’s one whose gracious smile simply beams into every corner of the room.  Her bed was on the far side this time.  Having greeted her roommate first, I walked across toward the window to hug my friend.  We talked for a while.  We sat.  We talked more and just kept company.  Then sitting bedside for us to pray, I could hear new activity in the room.  Continuing to pray, I heard the click of a mop, like when the mop head hits the handle.  My eyes opened to a new voice that promptly said, “You know just the right words.”  I turned to acknowledge the speaker, who I then saw was a female member of the hospital’s housekeeping department.  Already I loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to jump right into conversation.  And indeed she was just getting started, for a whole string of energetic questions ensued.  “How do you know God is real?”  “What about in the beginning?  How does the idea of Jesus go back to the very beginning of the world?”  And the list went on.  Her inquiries hit deep, they made me think, and I loved it.  I stood in awe of the Lord’s orchestration.  He had set a surgery schedule, a visitation schedule, and a cleaning schedule to all intersect that day around lunchtime.  The intricate detail of when we would each depart our separate homes and each enter the parking lot, the elevators, and even that particular room on the 7^th floor was all orchestrated by God.  The idea is evidenced in 1 John 1:7, which says, “But if we walk in the light, as he [God] is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”  As we seek the Lord and walk about this earth, He’s going to connect us in some amazing ways.  The light He shines will bring paths to intersect and send forth a fountainous fellowship of joy.  And contrary to what some say about hospitals, these moments on this Friday were quite wonderful.  Thank you, Lord.

A plea of 30 years

Is there any limit to how long a story of God might inspire?  Is there ever a life span on the works of the Lord?  This past Saturday I witnessed a story reaching ahead almost 3 decades.  It started around 1985 with one lady asking God to take her to heaven.  Life was miserable at the time, and she pleaded.  She remembers God responding, “I cannot use you for the people of this earth when you’re dead.”  And that reply rejuvenated her.  Now fast-forward almost 30 yrs.  In 2014 there’s a 21-year-old who is very sick with Crohn’s disease.  He’s frail.  He’s hardly more than skin and bones, and he tells his aunt he wants the Lord to take him to heaven.  The lady from the ’80s tells her story to the young man’s aunt, and the aunt conveys the story to her nephew.  The young man listens closely, and he too is rejuvenated.  The Lord knew both the lady and the young man could not bear the thought of leaving this earth too soon, and how perfectly He fashioned His words to inspire.  Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  On Saturday we had a whole roomful of inspired souls.  And again we remember how the light the Lord shines into any one experience is for our sake and yet others as well.