PREOCCUPIED WITH OUR CLAY DUST?

Human infants are born self-centered. We understand their helplessness and willingly care for them when instinctively their five senses cry out to be satisfied. All they know is themselves. Only as they grow and develop into maturity do they gradually become able to care for their own bodies.

Throughout the seasons of life our bodily upkeep remains at the top of our priority list. As one reaches the prime of life and beyond into the later calendar years, we may, however, find ourselves focusing overly much on our bodily aches and pains and our health and healing. We can become preoccupied with the bodily maintenance and repair of our “earth suit.” 

All such efforts consume our time and attention and taint our precious remaining years. We seem to shuttle between doctors' appointments or perhaps the health club for workouts or in pursuit of the latest discoveries in diet and nutrition. Pharmacy stops for prescriptions are part of our regular schedule. The older we get the more our physical infrastructure is breaking down, resulting in even more time and energy--and money--spent on keeping our “clay dust” in running order. We can become so self-absorbed that “gazing at our navel,” so to speak, can become our new normal in our seasoned years and the topic of most peer group discussions.

Is there anything wrong with that? After all, isn't self-care commendable? Of course, we should be responsible stewards of the human body God has given us. However, it is a matter of the proper eternal perspective and balance. We need to understand God's overall plan for this “clay dust” into which He breathed the breath of life and on which we are spending so much time.

The entire sweep of Scripture and of Jesus' teaching and His healing ministry on earth speak loudly about the value that God puts on our human bodies, not just our souls. We are told to "present our bodies as a living sacrifice unto God...." We are assured that God cares for our mortal bodies. Although Jesus knew that the people He healed would eventually die, He still had compassion and healed their infirmities and hurting bodies. Most of us, I dare say all of us, have some friends and family facing bodily illnesses of various severity, as well as ourselves.

We also experience the loss of friends and loved ones through the years because eventually the “clay dust” on which we have spent so much time passes away. When the body finally gives out and God's purpose for its earthly journey is complete, the soul temporarily separates from it. Nevertheless, God still has big, beautiful plans in store for our mortal bodies as well as our souls. Our bodies are not simply abandoned discards when the breath has gone from them. Our “earth suits” are not throw-aways of no value. God's eternal plan is to resurrect our bodies of flesh and transform them into immortal bodies suitable for living in an eternal dimension. “Do you believe this?” Jesus asked the grieving Martha, who confirmed that she did believe in the resurrection and in Him, who declared, "I AM the Resurrection and the Life."

To God our bodies are not mere “clay dust” but precious “gold dust!” He has destined us to live with Him forever--body and soul united again--in these very bodies which we have been caring for diligently all these years.

WORDS OF WISDOM: Guest Post

I am thankful for wise friends. So I want to share their wisdom. With her permission, my buddy Dorothy Vining, a couple years my senior, who was a professional woman in her career years, has allowed me to share one of her blog posts with you. She has her own blog and is an active "Facebooker." I believe she has a perspective here from which we may all benefit, regardless of age.
(This is a generic image...it is not my buddy Dot! She is much cuter!)

WHAT'S SO GREAT ABOUT
 GROWING OLDER?

Here I am, practically 92, actually finding old age enjoyable--in some ways.  Yes, I look old.  I feel old.  I creak and limp and use a cane.  But there are two  things I really appreciate about advancing years: the VISTA and the PANORAMA.

THE VISTA:  (A mental view extending over a long period of time.)  I look at my children.  At this point, even  they look old, some are older than 60 and have the greying hair to prove it.  At this point they are pretty much who they are going to be.  Their strengths, their gifts have made themselves known.  Their skills are honed.  

They are settled in somewhere, somehow.   But still, still, I find myself getting to know some of them who live nearby. Others, the ones far away, I still yearn to know.  Their strengths I rejoice in.  I am delighted to learn they now know more about many things than I do and have valuable advice.  Their faults I pray about.  They are my children and I will never cease loving them.

My children have children who are already in young adulthood.  To my mind, they are still wet behind the ears.  They are learning, seeking, finding their way in this challenging world.  One is a farrier and a forger (the kind with an actual forge, not the kind in the counterfeit business!) One is a tattoo artist, one has a Ph.D., another is getting a P.A.  We have a nurse, an “activist,” a wanderer, a missionary. Some with jobs I don’t really understand.  I love to follow their lives on Facebook.  Some agree with my politics and religion.  Some heartily disagree.  I trust they know I love them regardless and pray they will find truth and love along the way.

Some of my grandchildren have children.  I never see my great-grandchildren since they live too far away.  Fortunately, thanks to Facebook I know what they look like and can watch them grow.  The youngest will be three on my birthday on July 11.

THE PANORAMA:  (An unobstructed and wide view of a scene or unfolding of events.)  So I sit at this pinnacle of age looking down the vista to the past and all around me at the panorama.  I’ve been around so long and grasped so little that I wonder if it will all ever make sense. Is it a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?  Here and there a person or an incident stand out as being key to a greater picture.  And though I think I catch a glimpse of an overall reason for it all, it is like seeing through a glass darkly, somewhat like looking at the underside of a tapestry and imagining the topside.

Early man looked about him and that was as far as he could see. Now television gave us a “window to the world.”  We wanted to go everywhere, see all cultures.  It’s all there – everything in the world – at the tips of our fingers, at the turn of a knob.  Add the Internet to that and it is more than enough–it is too much!  It is not humanly possible to grasp.  We need to find a way to winnow, to choose wisely, to find a way that makes sense, to sort things out.  For myself I look for people I judge to be both wise and good to lead me in the way to proceed.  It is all too difficult and I need help, especially from  God.

In days of yore the world just used to sit there quietly and you could survey it and slowly take it in. Nowadays it seems to rush at you at breakneck speed, one thing after another, with no time to absorb and reflect. At the end of the day when the TV is turned off and my iPad put away, I find it pleasant to untether my mind and just let it wander serenely where it will. As that wise philosopher Mortimer Adler said, we need to have idle time so that “things can occur to us.”

As the poet wrote, “the world is too much with us, late and soon; getting and spending we lay waste our powers, little we see in nature that is ours. We have given our hearts away….”

No wonder I find it soothing to watch the day-after-day unfolding of a flower, in real time, the old-fashioned way.  Enough with time-lapse photography! Let nature take is course.  Slowly. Slow down. Breathe. Think. Muse!

Have you ever just sat quietly and held hands with someone you love? I find it satisfying at my season of life to take time to hold hands with God’s universe--and with the living God.

THE UPSIDE OF DOWNTIME

No one likes downtime. It sounds negative. It makes one think of loss, of pointless wasted time.

A business suffers downtime when equipment breaks down and everything grinds to a slowdown or halt. A computer failure immobilizes a bank. Downtime frustrates both customers and employees. An illness or disability sidelines us and our seemingly urgent activities are forced to be put on hold. We become impatient, antsy, and irritated. We tend to blame it on the devil.

Wait a minute! Why is the devil necessarily the culprit? Just because the word is “down” and “up” seems to sound more spiritual? Isn't the Good Shepherd of Psalm 23 in charge of His human sheep for good and not for evil? Doesn't everything that comes into our lives get filtered through His love and care and providence?

“HE makes me lie down in green pastures....” Why wouldn't I recognize that my downtime, whatever its source may be, is in the perfect plan of God? If I, as His less than smart sheep, don't have sense enough to take rest and unplug from this technological world system to recollect myself and plug into His mind and heart, our Good Shepherd may have to make us, arrange for us to “lie down in green pastures.” Whether we like it or not or have put it on our calendar. And those green pastures in which I lie down may be between white hospital sheets or the equivalent. Whatever it takes to bring us back on course to an eternal perspective.

Why? What is He thinking? The key is in the next phrase: “He restores my soul.” We may not be aware of just how much we need that restoration until we experience some physical downtime that will remind us of our fragile mortality and human weakness. We are dependent on God for every breath that sustains our life.

Usually I don't think that I need to be laid aside for awhile and experience quietness to enrich my life--especially just now. Usually such an event comes upon us at an inconvenient time. But I've found that the Good Shepherd chooses His right time to interrupt my self-planned agenda so that He can better accomplish His purposes for me and through me to restore my soul.

During one such prolonged session of horizontal downtime some years ago at the time of my lung cancer surgery, a friend sent me the following poem by an Unknown writer. That downtime event occurred unexpectedly and at a most inconvenient time—one of the most active ministry periods of my life.

I needed the quiet, so He took me aside

into the shadows where we could confide,

away from the bustle, where all day long

I hurried and worried, active and strong.

Yes, I needed the quiet, though at first I rebelled,

but gently, so gently, the cross He upheld,

and whispered so sweetly of spiritual things.

Weakened in body, my spirit took wings

to heights never dreamed in my active days.

He loved me so greatly He drew me away.

I needed the quiet; no prison my bed,

but a beautiful valley of blessing instead,

a place to grow richer, in Jesus to hide.

I needed the quiet, so He took me aside.

I have been accustomed to drive long distances in years past pushing myself to keep on driving to gain time. I have usually skipped the exits marked “Rest Area” which are posted at intervals for good reasons. Since long time habits are difficult to break, I'm still struggling with viewing Divine Downtime as a luxury. It is, however, a necessity provided by the Lord and to be greatly desired and experienced.

If I don't take time on my own to “restore my soul,” for sure I can expect that God will lovingly “make” some green pasture time for me.

OBSERVATIONS FROM AN E.R. GURNEY

Everything seems distorted from a horizontal position.

This is my first ever adventure to arrive in style at the hospital in a 911 royal coach. (I requested no siren. Let's not have any fuss...)

The ceiling of a Rescue Squad ambulance has interesting things hanging down from it which serve to distract my attention while I'm being strapped down.

They connect me to various and sundry lines. My b.p. is being monitored and I'm asked all kinds of stupid questions. (The big, brawny men who lifted me into this vehicle from my comfy bedroom ought to know what day and year it is and who is our president! The main dude wants to know exactly what I ate at the restaurant last night with my family. Oh yeah, guess he is trying to account for all the barfing that I've been doing from both ends for the past 24 hours.)

Let's just get moving, guys, and save the questions and paperwork until we get to the E.R. and get me some attention quickly!

I don't think they should inform me that my b.p. is “through the roof”... OF COURSE that makes it go even higher with the stress of knowing that! Why is it hot as an oven in here, don't they have any a/c?

I don't feel obligated to laugh at their petty jokes under the circumstances.

I can watch the familiar highway go by from the rear picture window.....it's a rough ride and makes me dizzy to be riding backward. I don't think this vehicle has any shock absorbers. Why is the big guy asking me to smile and hold my hands palms up in front of me, close my eyes and touch my nose? I don't feel like it, but I comply and he looks pleased. Go figure.

Eventually we get to the hospital and the fun begins.

I'm plugged into more things that go beep and lights that flash and I become monitored on several screens.

It's cold; I need a blanket. Why don't they take off my shoes?

Ah, at last I'm getting rehydrated from that transparent bag that hangs above me. Hope that helps my light-headedness. Why don't they give me some real water with ice too?

They said that's not permitted until a “real” doctor appears to evaluate me. More paperwork, more questions. I feel like dozing off....but the lights are so bright I could be on a Broadway stage with kleig lights.

Technicians of various specialties keep coming in and out of my cubicle and peering at the monitors.

Hours later (I must have dozed after all) the conclusion is probable stomach flu or food poisoning.

I'm deemed stable enough to be discharged and continue recovery at home with a fist full of prescriptions and lists of diet restrictions.

Don't want to think about food anyway. Just bring on more of that Gatorade.

I feel so weak that I welcome being pushed in the wheelchair to my son's car and can hardly wait until I'm rolled onto my own bed at home where I'll stay—until my next frequent run to the bathroom.

MY CONCLUSIONS AFTER THIS UNEXPECTED “EARTH SUIT” DISORDERED EVENT?

Life is fragile and uncertain, at best.

It is a short timeline from a calm, happy feeling of well-being to flat on my back, helpless, and not in control of anything.

Too much of my happiness is tied to the state of my interior plumbing, and electricity, my frame (which is actually only clay), and all the marvelous bodily infrastructure which God thought up when he created me and set my body into human motion meant to last from my conception until I have finished my earthly course according to God's plan and timeline. Imagine! How long my body has really lasted with modest maintenance!

Things I focused on so urgently a few brief hours ago seem to fade into non-concern after a little bodily turbulence.

I'm conscious of putting too much of my attention on things of this passing world and passing, terminal mortal life.

Eternal matters ought to assume greater priority over the temporal.

My EARTH SUIT is, after all, combustible flesh. It will disintegrate. My SPACE SUIT, my God-breathed soul, is what is durable, eternal, and should receive my greater attention.

Okay, there are more deep thoughts I have been thinking about during this brief “mortality tap on the shoulder,” but brain fog seems to be taking over right now.

MAYBE I NEED A FEW MORE BOTTLES OF GATORADE..and crackers and chicken broth!

A NARROW ESCAPE!

In my ninety years I have never had an auto accident or been in one. However, a few months ago I was sideswiped on the driver's side of my car at night on a divided highway while I was signaling to make a left turn. The details are unimportant, the damage minimal: some car body crunching, a broken tire and rear view mirror...but if it had happened a second later I would have been struck broadside at a high rate of speed. I would likely not be alive to write this.

I sat shaken but thankful and unhurt awaiting the police presence, all the while keenly sensing God's presence. I soberly reflected on having received a bonus of time!

The word “bonus” is from Latin and means “good.” It represents something extra, unexpected, a reward, honorarium or gift. It is something given or paid over and above what is due, more than the agreed arrangement. Generally it's something one doesn't ask for. Someone in authority decides to give it freely. I'm not thinking of money, however. My bonus, and yours, is time, and the “Giver in Authority” is God.

Whatever our situation or age, whether we have made it through a serious illness, or are burdened with chronic ill health, or suffer unfixable limitations, or survived some traumatic event that might have taken our life—or whether we have already been living, abundant extra years beyond hereditary expectation—we are living in bonus time.

Life itself, however long or short, is a bonus. I don't agree with the term “living on borrowed time.” I haven't borrowed anything from anyone. Since I'm alive today, I'm living on God's generous, preordained time specifically planned for me. What I am going to do with my bonus days, months, or years is my choice. How shall I spend, redeem, invest, make fruitful for God and others the extended days of my life, if God grants them?

If I have recovered from an illness, for instance, God brought me through for a purpose. Did He sustain my life only so I could drift along for my own pleasure and “row, row, row my boat gently and merrily down the stream” just to hang around a little longer? What's the point?

After finding out that he would have to live the rest of his life after a traumatic accident with no expectation of ever having relief from pain and an uncertain lifespan, Tim Hansel wrote, “I don't know how much string is left on my ball of twine. There are no guarantees how long any of us will live, but I know full well that I would rather make my days count than merely count my days. I want to live each one of them as close to the core of life as possible, experiencing as much of God and my family and friends as I am capable. Since life is inevitably too short for all of us, I want to enjoy it as much as I can no matter what my circumstances.”

I want to say with Saint Paul, “My deep desire and hope is that at all times, and especially just now, I shall be full of courage, so that with my whole being I shall bring honor to Christ, whether I live or die. For what is life? To me, it is Christ. Death, then, will bring more. But if by continuing to live I can do more worthwhile work, then I am not sure which I should choose. I am pulled in two directions. I want very much to leave this life and be with Christ, which is a far better thing; but for your sake it is much more important that I remain alive. I am sure of this, and so I know that I will stay. I will stay on with you all, to add to your progress and joy in the faith....” (Philippians 1:20-25 GNB)

But Paul...history tells us that you really didn't live very long after you wrote the above—actually only a few months. God soon called you to your eternal reward. It was not for you to choose after all, Paul. Nevertheless, what you accomplished and wrote for all posterity in those next few months counted for eternity. You spent your brief bonus time fruitfully and invested your last mile. None of us know God's timing for our Homeward call. Life on this earth is described as a vapor.

Any of us are capable of making a bonus blunder in the last season of life. A quick historical survey and a look at the lives of some people in our generation reveal examples of those who blew it toward the end of their lives. They didn't stay the course. Sometimes we are like king Hezekiah in Old Testament times who begged God for an extension of time during his terminal health crisis. God granted him a last minute reprieve of fifteen years. We wonder if it might have been better for him not to have survived because of the good that he didn't do and the evil that he allowed to happen on his watch...but that's not for any of us mortals to judge, only to take warning from.

How we live in any season of our lives carries a sober responsibility. Let's ask for the grace of perseverance and a generous dose of God's wisdom. We can't afford to drift or spend our bonus time on ourselves. If God gives us bonus days, weeks, months, or years, we should “handle them with care” because they are fragile and precious. We will be accountable to the Lord for how we invested our bonus time, whether as wasteful spenders or as grateful, joyful, careful stewards.

The bottom line? Let's treat every day as a loving gift from God! Celebrate and spend it carefully and prayerfully!