GOD'S NUDGES

My friend Marian calls it a “nudge.” Someone else says “a bolt from the blue,” another calls it “God's whisper.” Still another describes it like a “brush of angels' wings,” by which she means goose pimples, I guess. 

I call it an “inner impression,” a mental feeling or a sudden knowing. It is like a gentle poke in the ribs or God's tap on the shoulder to get my attention. The ears and eyes of my heart are abruptly alerted to something God is saying to me.

Whatever you want to call it, you know that you know that you know when God is speaking to you. It isn't audible but you hear the voice of God nonetheless; you see with your eyes closed. “My sheep hear My voice,” Jesus declared. The qualification is that you must belong to Him, be one of His sheep, and acknowledge Him as your Shepherd. 

I've heard that a shepherd and each of his sheep has such an intimate relationship that when several flocks of sheep are in the same fold, all bleating noisily, and several shepherds are tending them, each sheep can recognize its own shepherd's voice when its shepherd calls its name. Equally awesome is the analogy that Jesus made for the same kind of intimacy that is available between Himself and us. He calls us by name and we are supposed to be able to hear Him, if we are listening. But we have to be listening; we must have an obedient heart. We have to get quiet enough so that the static from the busy environment we live in doesn't drown out His voice.

“Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening,” is what Eli the prophet instructed young Samuel. Should this not be our spiritual posture? Many people claim that they have a difficult time hearing God speak. It shouldn't be that hard to recognize His voice, if we know Him intimately. We usually can recognize the voice of a close friend or loved one if they say only a word or two to us on the phone. If some of us older Samuels have a greater challenge discerning the voice of God, we may need a hearing aid. God has provided that through the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts who tunes the volume up on our spiritual audio. God doesn't usually speak in a high decibel voice; He doesn't shout at us. He expects us to listen for His slight whisper.

God is continually speaking through creative ways. God speaks to us through His Word; the Holy Spirit quickens it to our heart and applies it personally. He speaks through His creation. He speaks through His Church and our Shepherds. He speaks through other people whom God “nudges” and they in turn “nudge” us. We exhort and encourage each other as members of the Body of Christ, His Family, His Household of Faith. He speaks to us through circumstances, positive ones and negative ones, if we are open to hear His voice.

The technology of cell phones is incredible, although we seem to take them for granted these days. Less than a generation ago our parents and grandparents would have thought such a gadget impossible. "Where are the wires?" To call them “smart phones” is an understatement. They are an analogy to our spiritual connection with God. Wherever we are, we are connected and can receive and transmit as long as there is a cell tower within range. God is our stable cell tower. We are responsible to keep our cell phone battery charged up so we will not miss His call. His call comes only into our device. He knows our individual number; He knows our name. In a room full of people and cell phones and noise, we can recognize our special signal or vibration.

Let's not miss the vibration of God's voice, that “nudge” notifying us that God has something to say to us. Let's expect Him to speak today in our ordinary day, speak to our ordinary need as well as our extraordinary needs. We don't have to wait for special occasions or when we are in special places to hear God's voice. He may surprise us with something He wants us to say or do as He directs our “going out and coming in.” If we are always connected to Him in an inner posture of “praying without ceasing” as Saint Paul encouraged us, our hearts are in the listening mode all the time.

“If today you will hear His voice, harden not your hearts” (Psalm 95; Hebrews 3 and 4).

ENCORING ALL 7 OF MY AUTUMN POEMS

By viewers' popular request

Seven Autumn Poems

by Leona Choy

With introductory poem:

“I Paint With Words”

I PAINT WITH WORDS

Some paint with brush and canvas
describing beauty seen by human eyes
Others paint with notes on a staff

which they set to music
Some paint with photo lens capturing color
or with nature's ingredients to produce
gourmet food for eager palates
some paint with healing hands and skills
bringing color back to pallid cheeks with health.
I paint with words.Some paint with hammer, nails, or mortar and cement

Some paint with flowers planted in fertile soil

or decoratively arranged in vase or bouquet

others paint with numbers and equations

describing, solving universal mysteries
or painting with technologies and systems

beyond my finite comprehension.

I paint with words.

Some paint on engineering blueprints

only white lines on blue backgrounds
which become impressive architectural edifices
a graphic artist paints from dreams and imagination

still life or incredible animation

a sculptor paints with hammer and chisel in stone.
I paint with words.
Each is an artist endowed by Creator God
with a portion of His creative spirit
in stewardship as a precious gift
not to bury unused
but to discover and invest
and multiply and so must I
when I paint with words.

AUTUMN'S PARADOX

AUTUMN puts on a Paradox Performance:

She hurries to change scenes and costumes

making me dizzy with her diversity

as she passes briefly between summer

and winter's blustery polar breath.

AUTUMN quickly comes and goes

a transient season of diminishing sunlight

and shortened fugitive days

still she turns once more to bless me

with the ineffable glow of a splendid sunset

leaves fall from soon bare branches

yet such glory in their surrender of life

a part of nature dying all around

amidst a time of bountiful harvest.

AUTUMN's paradox inevitably brings

sadness for diminishing mortal years

yet deep gratitude toward seasons past

rue for course of life I might have changed

now decreed and appointed

I must let go of what I cannot alter

to embrace the joy of what's to come.

AUTUMN's paradox offers me time

to gather all my nostalgia

like creatures forage for their winter larder

I will store up my treasured memories

to savor on a frigid winter's night

around the warmth of the dying embers

of my friendly hearth

and rest content in God's best plan.

SEASONAL SPECTACULAR

AUTUMN is a wet, crunching bite

of a Shenandoah Valley orchard apple

a plump pumpkin time

a snuggle-under-covers season

a time for raking leaves

winding up the garden hose

pulling up dry plants

a porch furniture storing time

a moth-balled sweater

retrieved from the cedar closet

with last year's woolen gloves.

AUTUMN is a cushion

a subdued, leaf-fire-scented buffer

between the swelter of summer

and the wail of frigid winter:

my favorite interlude

this seasonal spectacular!

AUTUMN arrives with composure

and quiet earnestness

unlike the sudden burst of spring.

It signals flocks southward

elbowing harvesters

to hurry with their bounty tasks

before the latter rains.

AUTUMN causes football fever

in restless males: spectators and team.

It sets off ghostly squeals and costume madness

in the young for Halloween

while Thanksgiving menus and fall fashions

tantalize the female mind.

AUTUMN taps summer on the shoulder

nudges it out of the way

and displaces the sultry day

with crispy-cool jacket weather.

Welcome AUTUMN!

I eagerly trade

deep-breathing frosty morning walks

for sluggish dullness that stalks

humid hot July which I

only tolerate because

I anticipate AUTUMN.

The painted leaf, the falling leaf

evoke a tension in my emotions

between joy and grief:

regret for what I haven't done

at blaze of summer sun

and gratitude for living

to this moment of harvest

in relationships and nature.

The wardrobe of the seasons

would be incomplete and out-of-style

without the flashy scarf and golden cap

of AUTUMN and her smile!

P.S. Thanks, God, for not bargain shopping

but going first-class

when You thought up AUTUMN!

AUTUMN'S POMPOSITY

Please stay—just one more day—

it’s a long time 'til spring!

The lash of latter rains

conspire with whipping winds

to chase her off stage

but autumn splendor lingers

reluctant to retreat

without a final flourish.

Eager to please

autumn struts proudly

on mountain and meadow

pompously waving

her leafy scarlet scarves

like victory banners

defying frost and fading foliage

laughing with careless abandon

stunning my summer senses

with her breathtaking beauty.

Stay, autumn—just one more day

before winter disrobes you

to naked, shivering branches

reaching for mercy to the melancholy sky

while chilly gusts sting

your flushed face.

BLUE LINE REVERIE

Crispy, frosty mornings cycle again

in a season of reflection, pensive nostalgia

granting me permission

to stroll the back roads of my mind

while wading ankle-deep in the paint-splashed carpet

kicking up waves of oak and hickory leaves

inhaling the musty mulch beneath my feet

while munching the wet crunch

and tart taste of a freshly picked Jonathan.

Here I can smell peace, forget schedules

concentrate on important things

like scampering squirrels

scurrying to stash acorns for winter larder.

I filter out all but the traffic noise

of wing-flapping, honking geese

heading South in the fast lane

while I take the exit ramp

to a blue line country lane

deliberately dragging my feet

trying to slow down my speeding life

that always seems to be

running a marathon ahead of me.

OCTOBER IN TRANSIT

Temperamental days

bluffing me, mocking me

with teasing, wistful

coquettish ways:

Late October.

Lingering memories

of high July

blazing sun

and summer fun

are tossed on the run

but mixed with

frosty ecstasies.

Reminiscing time

that casts a chill

as winter steals

with cold appeals

slipping finally

into November's prime.

GOD TRIPPED ON A MOUNTAIN

God outdid Himself again!

First He daubed His ruby brush

only on emerald maple tops

teasing them to shyly blush

then rouged their hues

with bolder strokes of scarlet bright

against the autumn cerulean blue

applying saffron-yellow

to catch the lingering rays

before the season’s early wrap

of a frigid starry night.

Suddenly this morning

all nature flamed aglow!

God must have tripped on a mountain

and dropped His palette below:

blazing gold and crimson

splashed on bush and tree

blotching lanes and lawns

spattering his paint recklessly.

Can a painter capture on canvas

such Divine display?

Or I, with feeble words of verse

His magnificence portray?

Creator-Artist-God

is without a peer

each season He paints

an original masterpiece

better than last year!

(Number 7 encored below:)

AWAITING THE AUTUMN DAWN

 

AWAITING THE AUTUMN DAWN

Leona Choy

I wait in pre-dawn darkness

watching for the sun's first ray while

blue and gray overlay the achromic horizon.

Silently a blushing tint of anticipation

steals from beyond the tree line

to lighten the purple shadows.

I begin to see the frosted fence rails

hidden by the unlit night

green pines stand motionless

revealed now in stark silhouette.

An eagle in flight sails slow-motion across

the powder-blue canopy of sky while

golden streaks dispel dusky apparitions.

The eerie scene begins to assume

familiar friendly features while

mist still hugs bronzed tree tops

shorn of autumn brilliance.

An eagle circles and returns...

or is it his mate seeking him?

Frost has aerosoled late October grass

turning the meadow into an albescent carpet.

For a moment dark clouds threaten to hide

the sunrise as I wait, scarce breathing:

Will I miss the main feature after all?

No! I rise to my feet in worship!

Burnt-gold leaps boldly upward

thrusting aside the indigo mass

showering me with warmth and brilliance.

The blazing sun catapults into view

as from a celestial launching pad

into the space of a fresh, new day

blushing the shy white clouds crimson.

I cannot bear to gaze upon this spectacle:

I shade my eyes at the flaming finale.

A fog blanket still shrouds the valley below

but God begins to paint powder-blue across

the vast sky canvas with a wide brush

until a daytime dome appears overhead

paling deep hues into muted pastels.

An alarm clock jangles by some distant bedside

forcing me reluctantly back to mortal thoughts

by the intrusiveness of prosaic human routine.

But I have been an awed and adoring spectator

privileged to stand on nature's sacred ground

to view the miracle of an autumn dawn.

I stand transfixed in silent worship

not of created sun and nature's video display

but of the Creator of heaven and earth.

The memory of God's enchanting wake-up call

lingers through my day's mundane routine

reminding me that He is over all

of ordered nature, seasons, space, and time

and human endeavors—

including mine!

NOT FAR FROM BENGHAZI

What's so special about the story of Simon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry His cross? Perhaps because his hometown was in Libya North Africa which is now modern Benghazi and the official inquiry about the terrorist attack of September 11, 2012 is in the news again.

Wasn't Simon just a man who had happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, an insignificant, curious passer-by as he was referred to in the Scripture, who was randomly picked from the crowd? What was so important about that event that all three synoptic gospel writers would record it? In one of the Stations of the Cross we commemorate it.   

There must be more here than meets the eye! And a great deal to learn about carrying our own crosses and also the crosses of others.

As I searched for more background information, I found that a condemned person was always forced to bear his own instrument of torture, in Jesus' case at least the heavy crossbeam of a cross. But the soldiers didn't want a prisoner to die on the way up the hill to his crucifixion because that would spare him from the planned cruel torture of a deliberately slow and painful execution. A criminal was deliberately crucified in a public place where it would serve as a warning and deterrent to would-be evildoers. Jesus was already staggering under the weight of the crossbeam and falling repeatedly from extreme weakness after his agonizing, prolonged scourging by the soldiers.

In various translations of this biblical passage Simon was said to have been “pressed into service” or “seized” or “compelled.” He obviously didn't volunteer. He had no choice; he was forced to do so at the point of a soldier's spear. 

Who was this Simon whom Mark so precisely identifies that he even records the names of his sons and that he had come to Jerusalem from “the country” or “the fields.”  Since Mark wrote his gospel for Jewish believers, it is likely that by the time he wrote the gospel story the inclusion of the names of his sons in Mark 15:21 may suggest that they were of some standing in the Early Christian community. Tradition says that Simon's sons Rufus and Alexander became missionaries of the gospel; It has also been suggested that the Rufus mentioned by Paul in Romans 16:13 is the son of Simon of Cyrene. 

Libya is separated from the Holy Land by Egypt. Simon would have had to cross Egypt by land or come by sea to Jerusalem. Libya was under Roman rule at that time but there was a Greek colony in North Libya along the Mediterranean Sea with a large settlement of Judean Jews.  Most of Libya is covered by the Sahara desert except for that special long strip of Northern coastline where eighty percent of Libya's people live.

It is significant that Cyrene became an early center of Christianity in the centuries after the Church began to spread. Did Simon have something to do with that? Some also link Simon with the "men of Cyrene" in Acts 11:20 who preached the gospel to the Greeks—the Cyrenians would have known how to speak Greek. 

Why was Simon there in the crowd that was following Jesus to Golgotha? Were his sons with him? Were they adults or children? Was he a laborer or a wealthy foreign businessman? Was he a Jew from the diaspora or a dark-skinned Libyan native? Was Simon a believer in Jesus already when he carried Jesus' cross? Was he a devout Jew who was making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover according to the requirement of Judaism?  Or was he only a curious pagan caught up in the drama of a Roman execution until he became part of what was a life-changing event for himself and his sons and perhaps his heritage for generations to come?

Simon, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” Did you stay at the cross after you carried it up the hill for Jesus and watch salvation history unfold? Were your sons at the crucifixion with you?

  “Were you there when they laid Him in the tomb?” Did you become a Christian as a result of seeing Jesus die on the cross or perhaps hearing the witness of the disciples about Jesus' resurrection? (Someone ought to write a novel about this man!)

Simon, “Were you there when the Holy Spirit came?” Were you among the 120 in the Upper Room? In the biblical account of the birth of the Church on Pentecost in Acts chapter two in the list of places from which people were present at the event, “the districts of Libya near Cyrene” was noted. Simon, “Were you there?” We can only speculate.

What is the take-away insight for us from this special event? In His suffering humanity and to accomplish His mission from His Father, Jesus allowed Simon to help carry His cross. He could have called ten thousand angels to strengthen Him to carry the heavy cross, but He permitted and welcomed a mortal man to help Him. In His teaching before the crucifixion Jesus spoke about the necessity of taking up our cross and following Him. (Matthew 16:24) On the way to Golgotha Simon didn't carry his own cross; he carried Jesus' cross.

We can't do what Simon did. We can't literally carry Jesus' cross. Jesus gave His life once for all on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins and to obtain eternal life for us. However, in a singular way we can share the sufferings of Christ according to Colossians 1:24.  How can we bear Jesus' cross for Him now? Jesus declared that whatsoever we do for others or to others, we do as if we did it unto Him. The Lord receives it as literally done to Him! (Matthew 25:35-46) In practice then, as we bear one another's burdens we fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)

Each of us has unique personal crosses to bear as well as burdens, afflictions, and problems. There is a sense in which we must with courage and God's enabling accept and bear our own cross, the cross that God has given us in His love. By this we glorify Him and give witness to Him. However, there is a further sense in which we should reach out in love and compassion to help others shoulder their crosses as Simon of Cyrene did for Jesus. By so doing, we are privileged to partake in Jesus' suffering, “For to you it has been granted for Christ's sake, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for His sake.” (Philippians 1:29)

YOUR UNIQUE CROSS

The everlasting God has, in His wisdom,

foreseen from eternity the cross

that He now presents to you

as a gift from His inmost heart.

This cross He now sends you

He has considered with His all-knowing eyes,

understood with His loving mind,

tested with His wise justice,

warmed with His loving arms,

and weighed with His own hands,

to see that it be not one inch too large

and not one ounce too heavy for you.

He has blessed it with His holy name,

anointed it with His grace,

perfumed it with His consolation,

taken one last glance at you and your courage,

and then sent it to you from Heaven,

a special greeting from God to you,

an alms of the all-merciful love of God.
***

Saint Francis de Sales

1567-1622

OUR GOD FOR ALL SEASONS

RIPEN WITH THE SEASONS

I see another meaning in the words of the *classic hymn whose first line is, “O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.” “Ages past” can mean not only generations and centuries past in the calendar sense, but the different ages and periods of an individual's life cycle from birth to advanced age. Our Eternal God has a plan for each of us for all the seasons of our lives. He had a plan for my childhood, my youth, my married and parental life, my widowhood, and the "summit season" of my life.
 

Among the seasons of life is chronological maturity: aging, if you will. Even if you resist it, if you live long enough, you will come, albeit reluctantly, into the final phase of this mortal life on Planet Earth. Some call that stage of life our “sunset years.” I prefer to call them “sunrise years.” Since we are Christians, we don’t face growing darkness; instead we anticipate dawn and Eternal life with God. “The child is father of the man…The last of life for which the first was made,” wrote a famous poet.

I remember myself as a vacillating teenager always excited about something new or different, and my parents using the word “phase” in a disparaging way. “Oh, it’s just a phase that Leona is going through. She’ll get over it.” However, we don’t “get over” our seasons of life; we have to go through them, if God blesses us with long life. We don’t have the luxury of tripping lightly through the tulips through each chronological stage from youth to maturity. Human time is divided into seasons of life, and each period provides its own opportunities, responsibilities, struggles, temptations, joys, and challenges.

I’ve often used the term “seasoned saints” in my writing to refer to Christians who are maturing in calender years. The apostle Paul addressed all Christians as “saints” not because they wore halos, or were sanctimonious above their fellow mortals, or had achieved perfection. The Bible simply uses the word to refer to believers in Christ living on earth or in heaven. Also, I don’t restrict the term to the departed who are canonized by the Catholic Church because of their heroic virtue or extraordinary holiness.

Let’s explore the treasures of that season of life that is finally approaching ripeness in wisdom, experience, and responsibility—and hopefully, holiness and devotion to our Lord Jesus Christ and the Church which He established for our nurture. 

Delving into the dictionary meaning of being seasoned is like discovering a mother lode of gold. The word season is a derivative of the Middle English, sesoun, Old French, se(i)on, and Latin word sation meaning “a sowing time.” That root meaning of sowing in itself is significant to the chronologically mature period of our lives:

We are seasoned in the sense of being experienced. We have done a lot of living which we can generously share with others for their benefit. (But only when we are asked!)

Another meaning of seasoned is to be toughened by conditions, like wood that is hardened and rendered immune to shrinkage or warping. Likewise, we are durable because we have lived long enough to learn to endure the adversities of life through trust in God.

Seasoned also means heightened or improved in flavor by the addition of herbs, spices and the like. Good cooks add just the right seasoning in the proper amount to enhance the taste. God is seasoning us all the time, adding this and that to increase His joy in us and our pleasure in Him and our usefulness for His Kingdom. As we age we shouldn’t become like “salt that has lost its savor” which Jesus said was useless.

A season is, of course, a time of the year—four distinct seasons in certain parts of the globe. Normally, human beings experience four seasons of life although somewhat overlapping. God expects different things of us in different time periods of life. He intends that we should live fully in the present at whatever season we find ourselves. God has allowed some of us to see many seasons of life; we have gained a perspective that as good stewards we should sow into our posterity, the generations that come after us.

“In due season we shall reap if we faint not” the Scripture promises. Due season always seems to be illusively off in the future somewhere, sometime other than right now. We spent a lifetime tilling, sowing, watering, and cultivating. In our latter season we tend to be in a greater hurry to reap because time does not seem to be on our side. However, God’s timing is not the same as our timing. Just as there is a due date for the birth of a baby that requires a prescribed sequence of growth to take place in the womb, so God has a due season for the fullness of some things He wants to do in us and through us in the lives and circumstances of others. Let’s be on the alert so we won’t miss our due season.

“To everything there is a season” the writer of Ecclesiastes declares. He proceeds to detail many of the milestone events of life with contrasts: “…a time to (this)…and also a time for (that)….” In our advanced years we acknowledge God’s wisdom to bring us through many of those opposites to balance our lives.

When a fruit is in season, it is ripe, mellow, fragrant, nutritious, and at the peak of its essence. Can that be said of us? We should not bemoan the fact that we are aging; instead we should revel in our opportunity to bear fruit, more fruit, and much fruit according to Jesus’ desire and plan for the aging. The Psalmist compared the mature godly person with a palm tree that bears fruit into its hundredth year. “…They will flourish in the courts of our God; they will still yield fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap and very green….” (Psalm 92:12-15)

Arriving at our “fullness of years” is no excuse to become slack in active witness for our Lord. The Scriptures exhort us to be available to speak up for Him anytime, anywhere, “in season and out of season” despite increasing limitations of strength, health, finances, or opportunity. To be advanced in years does not give us license to retreat because of age. 

Youth and middle age have no monopoly on seeking new horizons. Let’s emulate seasoned Caleb in the Old Testament who, although well into his eighties, didn’t accept that he was finished with his life. He asked God for another big hill (mountain) to possess. Let’s sprinkle seasoning on one another to encourage mountain climbing rather than slipping back down our already attained hills. 

God has equipped us with spiritual wings to lift us over our valleys of circumstances and limitations when they try to drag us down. Our advancing years can be the most creative and productive of our lives. Let’s expect our due season right around the next corner. “The best is yet to come” can become a reality instead of a pious platitude.

If we try to turn back the clock or get stuck in the rut of yesterday, we will miss the joy of passing on to the next generation the legacy of life’s richness in Christ. Let’s join the apostle Paul in declaring, ”My entire attention is on the finish line as I run toward the prize to which God calls me—life on high in Christ Jesus. All of us who are spiritually mature must have this attitude….It is important that we continue on our course no matter what stage [phase, season] we have reached.” (Philippians 3:14-16) 

After all, those of us in the SENIOR CLASS are anticipating the exciting things we’re going to be doing after “Commencement” which some mistakenly call “The Finish Line!”


*O God Our Help in Ages Past
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oI7JYSw-gOU 

WAITING ON THE TARMAC

I have to be realistic—my recent visit to my hometown after fifteen years was probably my last visit there. Because of distance, advanced age, mine and the friends and relatives I saw there, I don't expect that we will see each other on Planet Earth again. That's not a morbid thought, however, but a mortal reality. Of course I felt sad when we drove off after saying Goodbye.

However, since many folks I visited are Christians, some of whom I have known since childhood, I do expect to see them again “Elsewhere” in the presence of God in Heaven. There we'll pick up our conversation that we had to cut short because of the brevity of our visit. The following is really a happy, joyful letter to someone whose name I made up and am calling “Greg,” but it represents all the men and women whom I love and with whom I visited recently.

(By the way, it was interesting how most of their conversations eventually turned to the 500 year flood my hometown experienced more than seven years ago which permanently changed the landscape and touched the lives of so many. If you are curious, Google Cedar Rapids, Iowa flood 2008 and watch the flood on YouTube.)

Many of those I visited eventually turned their conversation to the devastating personal flood they were experiencing through suffering various stages of their health issues. This personal flood was changing their own emotional landscape and touching not only themselves but the lives of their families. Many friends and relatives I visited were in assisted living residences or keeping busy with doctors appointments. Most of their health issues were at least indirectly related to our normal and unavoidable aging process. But regardless of age, all of us in a sense are waiting on the airport tarmac of life for the signal from the Heavenly Control Tower for our “takeoff” from this life of trials, sufferings, and afflictions.

Some of us would really want to stay here longer because we don't feel that we are finished with life and we don't want to sever loving relationships. Others are eager and impatient to leave because of pain and suffering and weakness. They long for their lifelong Faith to become sight at last. They pray for release even as their disordered body keeps them anchored to this life; their cross seems too heavy.

How can I be a Simon from Cyrene to the “Gregs” I met? How can I "come in from the fields and help them carry their cross" like Simon did for Jesus? I can light a candle and pray with compassion and love for each “Greg” I have met for his gentle takeoff in the company of angels whom God will assign to that tender task when God's perfect time comes. And I can also write my heart's message of encouragement to them and share some perspective to help prepare for what we all must face sooner or later:

Dear “Greg,”

You might have been told that possibly your takeoff could be sooner than you expected—or you are sensing that in your spirit. You might be trying to speed up “setting your house in order.” Perhaps you are becoming more aware that the attachments of life are fleeting and fragile. A flood can take everything away. Consider this, however: Some of us who expect our takeoff to be “later,” may leave suddenly and arrive in Heaven even before the “sooner” people. Others may linger far longer than they would wish and they need patience to endure their suffering by uniting it with Jesus' suffering for us.

But God, not doctors with all their sophisticated knowledge and skills, has ordained the time of our takeoff. You may be carrying a heavy cross right now, Greg, but the way of the cross leads you Home toward beholding God face to face at last. That's what it's all about. All of us must cross that Final Threshold into life after life.

God created us more than just a temporary body. All of us have an eternal soul with a forever destiny. The moment will arrive when our soul will separate from our suffering body and our soul will defy gravity and fly into God’s Presence no longer weighted down with pain and limitations of this earthly life. Some friends may be reluctant to talk about our leaving, but it should be a joyful thing to anticipate crossing The Threshold because “the best is yet to come!”

If you get there before I do, Greg, please pray for me to Jesus that I may always do the Father's will on earth as it is done in Heaven. That will cover it all! That’s an assignment, hear? And if I arrive before you, I'll pray the same for you. We are one family in Christ in Heaven and on earth. Death doesn't separate us. Even when we leave behind our bodies, our “earth suits,” for awhile, we are nevertheless still fully alive and will recognize one another in Heaven. Our eventual resurrection will provide us with “space suits” appropriate for our transformed life! Didn’t Jesus promise, “Whoever believes in Me will never die but have eternal life”?

Greg, hold on firmly to your faith in God through Jesus as your Savior no matter how your life boat might rock with pain or affliction during the rushing waters of the flood of your health issues. It is only for a little while. The floods of life will recede. If you become too weak to hang on to Him, Jesus will hold you tightly. When we close our eyes for our heavenly trip, don't be afraid, it won’t get dark! Jesus said that He Himself is the Light. His beloved disciple John wrote “God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.” If you are “in Christ” no one can extinguish that Light!

I love you, Greg, and I love Jesus in you. When the time comes, we won't need to say “Goodbye.” Let's anticipate the joy of meeting again, not in our earthly hometown but in our Heavenly Hometown, in The Eternal City where the Light never goes out and no flood can reach us!
 

WILL IT BE DARK?

Leona Choy

Will it be dark

when I cross that Ultimate Threshold?

Beyond the sunset implies night

with all its terror and fright

when the next unknown scene unfolds.

NO!

"He that followeth Me
shall not walk in darkness

but shall have the Light of life."

Jesus assures those who walk this earth

how much more those on the Other Shore

who have leaped into immortality

"

"NO NIGHT THERE!"

thunders The Revelation.

The Lamb is The Light

the Lamp is His Presence

no sun and no moon

speaks their obsolescence

all is as noonday, all is the Light!

We shall not stumble and grope

in the darkness like those without hope

We who even now dwell in Eternity

shall shine endlessly

as the stars forever and ever.

The blind shall see God’s blazing glory

the lame will walk, the dumb talk

all praising the Lamb, the Light, continuously.

Will it be dark when we close our eyes?

Must we embark on that Final Voyage

with apprehension and dread

fearing what's ahead?

BANISH ANXIETY!
 We will not sail into the sunset

but into the splendid sunrise,

not into the foreboding of a growing night

but the sure promise of a dawning light

not with sighs but a shout Hallelujah!

God has provided the Lamb, THE LIGHT!

God has assuaged our fears: IT'S BRIGHT!