2019
to 2021 to ? was a time with a sense of disorientation. The
days? What month? We are lost in a time conundrum (Star Trek or Galaxy
Quest), and no matter how hard we try to break free,weare lost.
Lost, but then can be found again. We look for lost glasses or keys, intensely. Do we look for what God has given us? Were it not for God's grace, I would be lost and probably dead, dealing with depression and PTSD.
Were
it not for grace, I would find myself wandering why I was alive. God
sent Me salvation--all people can grab God's gift of salvation if they
accept it.
Wednesday night
settled down on Nancy** and the teen boys like wet cement on a rough road.
They were all exhausted, man woman child, pure worn out. Brother Leo Berry, all grey and stooped, stepped up to the platform.
“THOSE…and his pointed a gnarly finger to the back rows…youngsters are the next generation of YOUR CHURCH! They are lost!" He wiped his face with a wrinkled kerchief, coughed raggedly, and continued.
“WELL! Not one single soul---NOT ONE---has sought forgiveness at
God’s holy altar!" Taking one big oratory breath, he boomed:
"This revival cannot end without salvation. I will keep preaching the truth
until souls are saved, even into next week!”
Well, universal gasps
were turned into gulps. The congregation
could not afford another week, the church sisters were tired of cooking, and the
Pastor’s kids were numb from sleeping on the floor of the pastorate.
The boys murmured to
each other, looking from one to another. They were the souls he talked about it, and they knew it. Absolutely knew it, and hung their heads.
The oldest white-haired
lady in the church, nearly blind and almost deaf Sister Fast rose to her feet
and hobbled to the altar. “I must be one
of those souls! I didn't hear much of what you preached, but I sure don’t want any sin in me.”
Ushers hurried to place a chair beneath her
before she toppled. Shocked, Harris and Berry locked eyes. What do we do now? A few beloved old ladies joined in prayer with Sister Fast. Nancy's jaw dropped. Sister Fast? Nooo, that is just not right...if she is at the altar, then....She drew her own conclusion and bowed her head.
Some deacons gathered
in the back, whispering and shaking their heads.
...with a box of leftover food, $40 in his pocket, and miles down the road, Leo Berry pulled off the highway. Opening the trunk, he pulled out a pillow and ratty quilt. He stretched out in the back seat, wondering how Martha and his kids were this week. Martha, this has been an awful week. How I miss you... Before his eyes closed, Leo prayed. Oh, Lord God! Those boys need You, need You badly. Keep 'em safe. Save them, Lord.
This is the purpose and goal for an evangelist. He never knows what happens after he leaves. He only knows that he obeyed his calling to preach God's Word.
Waiting
for Christmas is and has always been the most intense, insane experience of
anticipation of all the year.
Standing
in front of the tree and being mesmerized by the lights is the disco ball of
the season.Shaking the presents and
guessing their contents will always be part of the game.The small train around the base wears itself
out by the Big Day, only too happy to be packed away for next year’s new
batteries and another chance to whistle.
That
was last year, when I turned 60 years old.My granddaughters have informed me that I have to move away from the
tree.It is their time to do the dancing.
That
leaves me with the other delights: baking obscenely rich pastries, putting
together the Christmas pudding (a little late, I know), and moving furniture
around to accommodate an almost crawling grandson Benjamin(:()
Benjamin exploring cooked carrot, ignoring the broccoli
Waiting
for Christmas has become more than all the above for the adult me.Sometime between
the first songs playing in Target Stores to the filling of the stockings on
Christmas Eve, a miraculous event bursts inside me.
It
started as a spark of joy, and then fills me all up.Christmas is here!Christ came into the world as a human, to
experience the human pain and suffering.Christ was crucified, resurrected, and ascended into heaven.Christ dwells within me daily, reminding me
that I am part of His family.
I am
waiting for Christmas, slightly removed from the tree’s perimeter to allow two
little girls in pajamas to enter into the thrall of the tree.
The
spark is there and starting to burst into the “Hallelujah Chorus”!
Do you get that spark?Are the memories of Christmas both looking
back and being in the present?Are you
still dancing?Do you have to push the
kids and grandkids out of the way?
Sunshine: Theology 101
After I pick up Sunshine from Gateway Christian Preschool, we always have lunch together.
Having lunch with Sunshine is always an interesting event, even if it involves copious amounts of pbj, milk, and applesauce. All it takes is a simple question, and her vast wealth of knowledge and opinions come flooding out like gold coins from Scrooge McDuck’s vault.
All I have to ask, “What did you learn at school today?”
Just before Easter, Sunshine’s eyes brightened at that question, and without missing a bite of pbj, or a drop of the jam from the oozy edges, Sunshine told me. “I learned all about Jesus. And, Grandma, did you know…”
She paused for a swig of 2% milk, and to allow me to mop off her face. “Did you know that Jesus gotted nailed to a cross? That’s a thing that has two pieces of wood that make a small ‘t’. The bad Romans (Where did she hear about them, I wondered.) took big nails, Grandma, really big nails.” She spread her hands about a foot apart. “And then they hammered them through Jesus’ hands, really hard. Right through Jesus’ hands.”
Her wide blue eyes made contact with my green eyes, to make sure I understood what she said. Oh, I understood. I could feel His bones breaking, and the blood dripping onto the wood. My green eyes became misty with tears.
With casual care, Sunshine licked off the strawberry jam that she had squeezed out from the bread, on purpose. She likes to do that, and I don’t blame her; so do I.
“Then they stood the cross up like this,” Sunshine demonstrated with her yellow IKEA plastic spoon, “and dropped it in a hole like this.” She brought down the spoon hard into the bowl of applesauce. “That woulda really hurted, you know.”
Again her eyes looked deeply into mine, checking for understanding just like any good teacher would. Oh, I understood how the cross would have hit the ground with a vibrating thud, and how this would have shook Christ’s body with waves of pain. My eyes blinked at hers several times.
She told me the whole story, event by event, while I remained very still, listening and watching as my almost 5 year old granddaughter explained salvation to me. “Miss Kenny gived us each a paper cross we color on, and I decided to color my cross like a sunset.” I looked confused, I suppose, for now she patiently explained her ideas as if I were only 4 years old.
“You see, Grandma, the red is for the Blood of Jesus, which He gave away so we can see Him in Heaven. Then the orange is for the sunset when Jesus died.” Another bite of pbj, and the last swallow of milk. “Can I have some more milk, Grandma?” Without missing a beat while I automatically poured the milk into her pink IKEA cup, Sunshine lowered her voice to a whisper. “Then I used yellow. You know why I used yellow?”
I shook my head, for at this point I didn’t want to or couldn’t talk. “Well, the yellow is for sunrise, when Jesus got up out of His grave. That meaned that He wasn’t dead anymore, that He was alive!” She slammed her hand on the table. “There! See! Jesus is alive!”
With the last bite of pbj, and the last swipe of the spoon around the bowl of applesauce, Sunshine finished up. “Then I colored around the cross in blue, ‘cause Jesus went up to Heaven, and He’s waiting there for all of us.” She gazed into my eyes and asked, “Grandma, why are you crying? This is good news, not bad. Jesus is alive!”
I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her. Sunshine wiped her gooey face into my tee-shirt, and filled me with her warmth. Yes, He’s alive, Sunshine.
Susan Kane
April 27, 2011
This is a re-post from six years ago. I had forgotten about until I checked comments in Hold for Moderation section. Sunshine is now eleven, my height, with the same blue eyes. And she still knows what Jesus did for us.
