about Salvation and Life After Death

It's very late as I begin this post, so please be patient in case I need to finish it tomorrow.

A friend was telling me the other day that it's cold in that casket in the ground. Well, I don't know why she continues to worry about that, except that she is not sure about her destination.

Yesterday was Easter. Christ is Risen! Hallelujah! Praise God! He also received a new body, which was evidenced by the fact that he could walk through walls. He was seen by many people between the time of his resurrection and his ascension. He appeared to Thomas, known by many as Doubting Thomas, just by appearing. No one opened a door for him to come into the room. This is well-documented in the Bible, as are many other sightings.

My great-aunt told me stories about people who had been dead for a long time appearing to do a specific task. My father told me about his father's vision of his dead friend. My father told me of waking in the middle of the night, to see his father standing at the foot of his bed. This was many years after his father had passed away. My father also told me of seeing his father and his uncle walking through our yard when my father was having difficulty with a project. My brother also has seen our maternal grandfather sitting in our living room, quite some time after he passed away. When that grandfather passed away, he had been a double amputee. He had lost his legs. When my brother saw him sitting on the couch, he had his legs.

This all tells me that what Paul said in II Corinthians 5 is true: to be absent from the flesh is to be present with the Lord. And when Jesus returns, he will bring those who have gone on ahead with him.

I do not believe that anyone just lays in that casket and is dead. The body dies when the spirit leaves. It goes, if one is a Believer, to be with the Lord. Therefore, there is no fear of death.

My friend is not sure of her destination because of the teachings of her church, which does not believe in the security of the believer. I will get into that tomorrow.

about Old Photos

August 19, 2014

One of my on-going projects is to organize and scan the photos I have collected through the years. One of my sons (Michael) would like most of the ones of himself scanned so that he can have them. As I have time, I go through some of the old photo books and try to make order of them and do the necessary work.

I find many of them, through their composition and living through the changes of the years, make me very sad. The one below is just such one. Michael was 8, almost 9, when this photo was done and Robert was 5. The photo shows big brother, Michael, taking care of baby brother, Robert, by tying his shoes.

That's the way it was for many years. Two peas in a pod. They were closer than any brothers could be. It continued into adulthood, even to the point of Robert following Michael to Guam to live, dive with and help out Michael. And not just once, but twice.

Then Michael was moved from Guam. Robert stayed behind for a while. He had gotten various jobs while in Guam and the last one was disastrous. It was very dangerous. The owner of the business did not follow safe-practice work practices. Cleaning the hulls of large ships, all around the Pacific, using that heavy head gear. Robert knew the owner was not using good practices, and I suspect he may have also been participating in human trafficking. That's just a guess, though, but Robert hinted at it to me. Well, Robert believed, I think, that he should take care of the owner himself, since the government on Guam is so corrupt. So, he came home at Christmas. Then there were other things that happened that caused his dad and myself to have to ask him to leave our home, until he changed his ways. Our health would not allow the amount of stress that came into our home when he was here.

He's always welcome to come back if he changes his ways, comes back to the Lord, and tries to make restitution to us and his "friends." My Bible tells me that when you bring up a child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not depart from it. Well, I'm not sure what "old" means in that context and it also does not tell me that I will live to see it.

So, it makes both his dad and myself very sad to see how things have become. They are so different from how they used to be. We don't know what has made him become the way he is. It certainly is not how he was raised. We haven't spoken with Robert in several years now. I don't know if he will ever turn around. All we can do, and probably the best thing to do, is to leave him to God. So, I pray for him most days.

 

My Tree and Me

My Mulberry Tree in January

 

Today, I was looking out my kitchen window at my mulberry tree. I thought, "There I am. That tree is me." So I wrote a poem. Here it is:

There's my tree,

It's sorta like me.

Lost are its leaves,

Branches bare reach to the sky.

Life it's lived for this season.

Fruit's borne.

It waits, empty,

For new life: leaves, fruit.

 

I am waiting, too,

But my new life will not come

With a new season.

I am old, broken, worn out;

The downhill side of this life.

My new life will come.

After this life passes.

I will be brand new,

Healed and well.

 Come, Lord Jesus!
But in Your time,
Not mine!





Me and My Tree

But I don't just sit and wait. As long as I am here, I do what God brings to my hand. Each day He entrusts me with care for someone. I do what I can. Sometimes I think it is not much, but it is all I can do. And, it's what He has allowed and requested of me. So, I keep on. Me and my tree. Together, we may yet see another season.

Voting

Yesterday, I voted in our Primary election. Voting is very important to me. After all, I was not born into that right. Well, technically, I was. But, actually, not; at least not like a man would be.

You see, it took a long time before women were granted the right to vote. Many women gave an awful lot so that they and their sisters and daughters would have that right. I saw a movie about the struggle, Iron-Jawed Angels, and it changed my view forever. Those women were not only jeered at on the street, but they were imprisoned, starved, and beaten. Some died. Suffragettes. What a group of strong women. Bless them forever. The Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution was passed in 1920. So you see, women have had the right to vote for less than 100 years, whereas men have ALWAYS had it, inherently.

Therefore, voting is very important to me. I try to not miss any opportunity to vote. I have, of course, missed one or two. When President Nixon was re-elected, I didn't vote. I was in labor in the hospital with my second son. And, I've missed a couple of elections since then. But I always do my best to try. I think it's important to cast my ballot to let my voice be heard in whatever way as to my preferences regarding my leadership in my city, county, state and country.

Yes, it's true that sometimes this does not have a direct effect. Certainly, in the

presidential election, we are voting for electors, and in my state, they are not required to cast ballots at the convention for whom the voters have expressed desire. They are free to cast ballots as they please. But usually, they do as the voters wish.

However, that is the exception to the rule. Take Dade County, for instance. It is called Miami-Dade County these days, but it will always be Dade County to me. They just had an item on their ballot, placed there by those who would like to end the ban on pitbull dogs. Those who went to the polls voted to retain the ban. Mind you, I said those who went to the polls. Those who did not go to the polls and vote had no say in the matter, and this directly affected the law in the county.

This is why it is so important to vote. Because your vote DOES count. And, voting is a privilege. For us women, it is a gift that was granted to us by the sacrifice and pain and suffering of a group of women many years ago. Thank you, girls. I will try to use my gift at every opportunity.

What Dr. Stanley says about how God works. Here's some of what he said today: "When anything or anyone becomes more important to us than the Lord, we have an idol in our lives. To protect us, God sometimes uses adversity to strip away everything we have relied upon so that we'll cling only to Him. The chisel hurts--it sometimes feels as if God is taking away everything we hold dear. Unless you understand His goal and believe He's working for your good, you'll think He's cruel. But if you trust Him and yield to His shaping tool of adversity, your faith will be purified and strengthened through affliction."

Dr. Stanley will be 80 years old next month. And surely he has had more Christian experience than I. Certainly, he has had more tribulation. But, maybe he hasn't. A woman's tribulations are much different than a man's. It doesn't matter if a man or woman is in a place of public leadership or not. The heart is what matters. I often feel that God has left me. As my husband says, "I wouldn't treat my bride like that!" And he's right. The scripture also says that God's ways are not like our ways. And that is certainly true. I would not treat my children the way God allows us to be treated. So, is Dr. Stanley right? I don't know. Certainly he is correct in saying that the chisel hurts. But is he correct in saying that whatever God allows is okay because it makes us stronger? I don't know about that. I think, personally, that it hurts sometimes so badly that it sends us away from God.

about family traits...

As he gets older, my husband, Paul, gets curlier and curlier. True, he has less hair on top, but the hair on the bottom gets curlier, even when it doesn't need to be cut. I was thinking of that the other day, and took a couple photos of his curls. That, of course, made me think of our baby grandson, Joshua. When he was very young, his hair had not been cut, and many folks called him "Rastaman". Of course, he was very blonde, but, oh well. Now that he's much older, and a teenager, his hair is mostly straight and very dark. But I have a photo of him with his blonde, curly hair that is one of my favorite photos of him. Of course, I have to share it and compare the two heads of hair. Paul's was a little darker when he was younger, but now it's grayer. It's still a family trait. There are many other family traits that are passed down. There is a saying, "The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree." I see that quite often in myself as I find myself doing things my father or mother did. I see it in my husband's behaviors that are like his father's. I hope some of our good behaviors have passed down to our sons. Some of their traits cause me to believe the hospital sent the wrong babies home with us. I see some of their traits in my grandchildren. I also see some of our traits in our grandchildren. Genetic traits are passed down, too. So how many of the personality traits are passed down through genetics or are they passed down through observation? There are certain traits in our family that I hope are NEVER repeated by ANYONE. Lord, help us to only pass along our good traits.

time....

I had thought i would try to write on my blogs every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. However, this doesn't seem to be possible. It is a great way for me to practice my writing, but is proving to get in the way of things that need to be done; of things that have been on the "back burner" for too long. So, I will endeavour to write on Wednesdays until I complete some previously begun projects. I will miss writing on Monday and Friday, but this cannot be helped. Time management is very important.