Sometimes repeated forays into sin become all I can see. I am the prototypical sinner, and it’s hard to believe anyone else could be as stubborn as me. But grace is always found when I return to Him. I am certain He loves me very much.
And I do know that growing up has much to do with time spent with Him. Coming into Jesus’ presence, by faith, is my ‘life task.’ I know this to be true.
Any advice you could give me would be good. TY. I’ll tune into any comments that you leave below (I’m terrible with email.) I want this verse to be mine.
“I will bless those who have humble and contrite hearts, who tremble at my word.”
He continued to release the string of the kite and it went higher and higher until it was completely out of sight. One of his friends walked up and asked how he knew there was still a kite on the other end. He replied. “I know it’s there, I can feel it tugging on the line.”
Like the kite, we can’t see heaven with our eyes, but we can feel it tugging at our souls!
As a person with a mental illness, it’s easier in some ways to think about that place I am journeying to. Through many cycles of depression I find this present life gets old, and the more I hear about heaven, the more excited I get. I imagine a life without meds, and the constant monitoring of my moods. This place is going to be good, and that’s just the start!
I sometimes think of my infirmities and pain. I can’t wait to “shed” this mental illness.
To be free from it will be one of best things I can think of. To take off my depression, like a heavy coat on a warm day. To sit with Jesus in a cool garden with living water, that’s more refreshing than any iced tea. Eternity is my favorite things to think about–
“Where the unveile’d glories of the Deity shall beat full upon us, and we forever sun ourselves in the smiles of God. “
—Ezekiel Hopkins
I want to encourage you who are struggling now, with depression, anger, schizophrenia, paranoia, abuse, OCD, addictions, PTSD, bipolar or any other handicap. There is a day coming, when we will forget the challenging battles that we’ve had to face. Wait for it.
And I must tell you, with all the strength I can muster–take hope and just journey one more day, and go ahead, dream about heaven.
We must decide upon some things. This is not easy theology. It calls us to take decisive action.
The idea of Jesus dying on the cross for my sin is brutal. I’m left with the idea that I contributed to His death. But my sin had to be covered, and alas, and He did so. But I can never repay God for the drastic measures He took. But I do know that my life is now His. His for mine.
In many cultures it is a life for a life.
Some people groups believe that the person who saves another person is owed a “life debt” out of gratitude. I become His “property” because He died in my place. A life for a life. His for mine.
There are sins that I commit that He must pay for. This is not as easy as you might think; I confess my sin, and Jesus Christ picks it up. He has chosen to pay every and all penalties for it. I go “scot-free” while He must die. This is what He decided to do for me. A life for a life.
The cross was not just a Roman method of execution. It was planned in eternity for the rebellion of mankind. It was God’s “method.” He knew those “from the foundation of the world” but had to find a way to atone for their sin, and redeem them from Satan’s control. He must die for them. And it’s a life for a life. His for mine.
I’ve been ransomed and redeemed.
His death gives me eternal life– something which can ever be taken away. His own death makes me “holy.” The Bible promises me even more than this: forgiveness, peace, joy and “real” holiness. He has done everything, I have done nothing except believe.
His life for mine. A life for a life.
“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!”
“Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered— how fleeting my life is.”
Ps 39:4, NLT
Typically, we avoid this level of scrutiny. Life is best enjoyed in a relative ignorance, and we certainly don’t welcome the knowledge that our life is limited. We are like people with a bunch of credit cards, and we impulsively buy whatever we want. But soon you’re gonna have to bay the bills.
But, do we really want to be reminded?
Our time is brief. Fleeting. But the psalmist values the reminder… life has been scrutinized, and counted out. We only have a finite number of days [they are counted out] and then we must say ‘good-bye’.
You have an expiration date.
I am convinced that we are to be settled on our ‘finiteness’. We are not immortal, nor are we perpetual. Things wind down, and soon they will lay us embalmed and in a casket, and a memorial service will be held in our memory. This will be, more or less, the end of us. But we will go on.
Are you able to handle the truth?
Your life will end, and there is nothing you can do about it. Let it unfold, and take its lumps. You really do not have a choice. There is a limit to our living on this terrestrial ball. We can make no further advance here. It is finished.
The verse speaks of an eagerness to know one’s limits. Tell me, remind me, how short it all is. I want you to tell me, where the end is, so I can live my life in a response to the truth. I want to respond to reality, whatever that may be.
We must calmly accept the end of our time here on earth. We can’t deceive ourselves. We need to welcome the intrusion of a finish line. Let us live, men and women, in a full understanding of our limits. Let us walk in the fear of our God.
“Life, lovely while it lasts, is soon over. Life as we know it, precious and beautiful, ends. The body is put back in the same ground it came from. The spirit returns to God, who first breathed it.”
