Heaven

One of my favorite pastimes is shopping at thrift and resale stores. I really don’t have to buy anything; I like just walking around and browsing old and unusual items. It brings back fond memories of days gone by.

One day while at a resale shop I glanced over at the books and noticed a worn out copy of “Heaven is for Real.” They made a movie about it a few years ago and I remembered lot of people talked about seeing it or at least wanting to go see it. I never got around to it. Actually, I purposely didn’t go see this movie when it came out, or buy the used book at the resale shop that day. Why? Because it’s not biblical.

No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. John 3:13

I know the book was a bestseller and that the movie was a box office success. Many may have read the book or saw the movie, but for those who don’t remember the book or the movie, here’s the synopsis. It was about a young boy, the 4 year-old son of a pastor, who had an operation and claimed he went to heaven and back during his operation. He basically claimed he had an out-of-body experience. He describes his visit to heaven with the vivid imagination of a young child. Hmmmm…. 🤔

Interestingly, when I was young, maybe 11 or 12, I had, what I would call, a kind of weird out-of-body experience myself. I was sick with a fever and headache for a couple of days and was lying on the living room couch. I remember having an awful headache and crying a lot and drifting on and off to sleep. I remember it seemed so real: floating from room to room, hovering near the top of the ceiling, for what seemed to be several minutes. I woke up in a sweat and kept thinking about it while my mom was giving me water and cold rags to try to bring the fever down.

I didn’t go to the doctor and I didn’t mention the floating experience to anyone because it was all too weird. At the time it seemed frighteningly real to me, but again I was a child and I was sick. In retrospect I’m 100% sure it was the fever that caused me to have this type of experience.

So as sincere and well meaning as this 4 year old boy and his father may have been, I simply don’t believe it. He may have had a some sort of hallucination due to the anesthesia or maybe it was just his imagination, but regardless, I don’t believe for one second that he went to heaven and back.

Why would people even begin to believe a story like this? Why would you waste your time reading a story based upon a 4 year old’s imagination or hallucination?

What God has revealed to us in His Word is the only legitimate source we have about heaven. There may be a lot about heaven that is yet to be revealed to us but I believe the Bible tells us all we need to know.

But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. None of the rulers of this age understood this, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written,”What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him. 1 Corinthians 2:7-9

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. John 14:2

Actually, much more important than knowing about heaven, is knowing Jesus. All of the “knowledge” in the world about heaven will not get you there. You need Jesus first and foremost.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.John 3:16

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14:6

So herein is both the answer and the question:

Jesus

Do you know Him?

Game Set Match

They say that friendship is a little like tennis. The ball represents the back and forth interaction in friendships: it takes at least two people, it’s fun, and you take turns.

I have fond memories of my first friends in life.

Annette:

Annette was cute and bubbly, the same age as me, and full of energy. We were born just a few days apart in the same hospital. I remember one day when we were playing over at her house, and she said, “Let’s put apples in our shirts,” and then we went over to show her mom. I remember thinking that probably wasn’t a good idea, and I was right. Her mom frowned at us and I was so embarrassed and, to make it even worse, Annette told her mom that it was my idea! Our moms were friends and we were also neighbors, until Annette and her family moved away when we were in first or second grade. I was sad when she moved. Our neighborhood was full of boys, and there weren’t many girls my age to play with.

Lynn:

Lynn was also a neighbor; she lived two doors down from our house, and although Lynn was a couple of years younger than me, we got along very well. Her house was warm and inviting, filled with antiques and the tick-tock sound of an old clock. We always played indoors so I guess that’s why I remember her house so well.

Lynn was quiet and small for her age, and she was super sweet. I remember her mom telling me one day that Lynn’s health was very fragile and that was why she couldn’t play outdoors, and also why she couldn’t play as often as I wanted to. I didn’t quite understand at the time and as life would have it, our friendship eventually faded. Years later, I was so sorry to hear that she had passed away in her thirties. I never learned what caused her early death, but finally understood the implications of what her mom meant when she told me that she couldn’t play outside or very often.

Carla:

Carla and I met in 3rd grade at our elementary school. I remember she had the prettiest smile and a beautiful complexion. Most of my memories of our friendship consisted of playing with Barbie dolls, spending the night with each other, and playing at school. Our friendship was short-lived though as she also moved away. Several years later I was surprised to see her at high school, but so many years had passed, we really didn’t know each other anymore.

Judi:

Judi lived next door to our elementary school and I remember thinking how cool it was that she could walk to and from school every day. We were friends from the 4th through 6th grade. She was creative, fun to be around, and we had something in common: The Beatles! We, like almost every other young girl in 1964, were crazy about John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Besides listening and singing along to Beatles songs, we liked to dance, practice cheers, play foursquare, and tetherball. She was so athletic and was usually always better than me in whatever activity we did.

I remember her mom would drop us off in downtown Indianapolis to go shopping all by ourselves. I felt so grown up doing this, and I think we were only 10 or 11 years old at the time. I also remember going on a trip with her family to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. I had never been to a museum like this and was excited to go to Chicago with them.

Photo booth fun in 1964 or 1965 with Judi and me on the left, Marty (Vicki’s friend) and Vicki (Judi’s sister) on the right, and me in an old car in the middle photo at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry.

We lost touch after 6th grade when we went to different junior high schools for 7th through 9th grade. We ended up going to the same high school but it wasn’t until the end of our sophomore year that I realized who she was. She had grown at least five or six inches taller than me and I hadn’t even recognized her. It was sad though, because we didn’t really know each other anymore. In just a few short years we literally grew apart.

Donita:

I met Donita in junior high school and we immediately became kindred spirits! Our common interests were boys, music, and fashion. We’d talk on the phone for hours. I remember my dad getting so annoyed because we’d be on the phone almost every night talking with each other. This was back when we used home phones, and of course, the phone was attached to the wall. I’d lay on the floor in the living room and stretch the cord across the room. My dad would complain that I stretched the cord out of shape, that I was always on the phone, and that nobody else could get through. Back then, home phones would just give a busy signal if you were already on the phone and someone else tried to call. Eventually, I did get a phone installed in my room but we still had only one telephone line.

My favorite memories with Donita were spending the night at each other’s houses, hanging out with our junior high friends, and when she came with my family and me on a vacation to Indiana Beach in 1968. It was here that I got to fly in an old open-cockpit Fairchild PT-19 warbird. The pilot’s name was Mike and I only know that because that’s what I wrote on the back of the photo. I was thinking it was my sister, Joyce, who set up the flight for me as she had started working for Sky Harbor at Eagle Creek Airpark in Indianapolis, in 1968, but she doesn’t recall doing this. So I’m not exactly sure how this came to be, but I think it was my first flight in an airplane, and it was fun! Joyce did take me flying two or three times while she worked at Sky Harbor from 1968 to 1973 (and I worked there from 1977 to 1986) but I don’t have photos so I’m not exactly sure when and in what aircraft we were in, although I suspect they were mostly Cessnas. I do remember coming dangerously close to the active propeller on one occasion. I exited the aircraft for some reason, which I don’t recall now, and was unaware of how close I had come to the propeller until I got back into the aircraft. Joyce told me she nearly fainted when she saw me walk so near it. I was not a Christian at this time in my life but I believe that God, knowing that one day I would be, protected me that day.

During our freshman year of school, Donita told me that due to her dad’s job she had to move to Georgia. We cried for hours. We kept in touch by writing letters to each other for the first few years. Then, when I graduated from high school, I arranged to meet her at the Atlanta airport one day on a stopover on my way to Florida.

As the years went by, we lost touch. I thought of her often, and then in 2009, I remembered a picture that she had sent me of her baby girl, and it had her name written on the back of it. I did a Facebook search and found her daughter, Gina, who gave me Donita’s email address. We connected again, and I got to visit her, but this time we met for lunch in Lawrenceville, a suburb of Atlanta, while Harold and I were on a road trip. It was so good to see her again and to be back in contact, after so many years.

Donita passed away April 11, 2024. I mourned the passing of my old friend; I missed the Donita I knew when we were young and the person she had become. I regret not taking time to visit her more in my adult years. I re-read the letters I had saved and with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, I decided to send them to her daughter, Gina. I shipped them in a lavender flowered box with some photos and a book of Bible promises.

Penny:

Penny and I also met in junior high. Our common interests were shopping, Janis Joplin, rock bands, and boys. I don’t know how, but somehow we managed to not get into too much trouble during our junior high years. One night we took her brother’s car out for a drive (she drove, not me) and we were probably only 14 years old. We loved going to parties, singing Janis Joplin songs, hanging out with friends, and dancing at Sherwood Country Club. We also went to some rock concerts together: Three Dog Night, Chicago, and Iron Butterfly.

Me, Ron and Penny 1969

Penny and me in 1969 in Chicago with my brother Ron, who had just graduated from Naval training.

At Indiana Beach, summer 1969.

In a crowded photo booth sometime in junior high school.

Here we are at my cousin’s wedding in 1969. I brought Penny with me and we sat in the second row. My grandma and grandpa, my little cousin Todd, and my Uncle Bill are in the first row. My cousin, Connie, told me years later that Penny was her official “wedding crasher.” LOL

In a crowded photo booth in 1968 or 1969, and at our 40th high school reunion in 2012.

Here we are at our 50th high school reunion in October 2022: Penny, Annette, and me.

“…There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24

I remember the first time I read this verse, I assumed that it referred to friends and wondered if I ever really had a friend like that. Later I learned that the “friend” in this verse actually refers to Jesus. This makes perfect sense, as friends do come and go, but Jesus has long been my closest friend.

It’s also interesting how you can hear or read a Bible verse several times and then it’s as if you’re hearing it for the first time. In the late 1980s, I remember hearing this next verse in a sermon and it really caught my attention. Interestingly, it’s the first half of Proverbs 18:24.

“A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly…”Proverbs 18:24

I’ve often thought about that verse over the years, as throughout most of my life, friendships have been difficult for me. First of all, as an adult, I think it’s easy to get out of the practice of friendship. It’s easy with the busyness of life, kids, work, etc., and also for as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt a little uncomfortable around people. I enjoy people but I’m really more comfortable by myself. In retrospect, I think that God has used that to help me draw closer to Him, which, of course, is wonderful, but at the same time, I realize that having friends is good too.

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

So, I need to be continually reminded to stay in the game; to serve and to return the ball whenever it lands in my court; to seek common interests with others and to take time to invest in friendships. This goes for anyone who finds themselves with similar feelings. I’ll close with this quote from C. S. Lewis:

Friendship is born at the moment when one man says to another, “What! You too? I thought that I was the only one!”

The West Coast

In June 1990, after a 5 day, 2500 mile trek across the country, with two kids in the back seat and one car in tow, we anxiously drove into Los Angeles looking for our new apartment. We had just a few days to get settled in before I was to start working at the LAX Delta Reservation Office. We stopped to get directions to Sepulveda Boulevard. It was a major road so I was a little surprised when the guy didn’t know which road I was talking about. So I pointed it out to him on the map (yes, a paper map) and he burst out laughing. Apparently I needed to work on how to pronounce Sepulveda.

Welcome to Los Angeles. 😂

We settled in a nice gated apartment in Torrance, right next to a park and an elementary school. It was expensive, like most things in California, but thankfully Harold got a job right away, and we managed to make ends meet. We furnished it with second hand furniture and were so blessed to have a very sweet older couple, Cliff and Irene, live right next door to us. Cliff was a Church of Christ pastor and Irene was an amazing cook who loved to share her home-made pies.

The Delta Reservation Office was located just outside of LAX on Century Blvd. The office was big and modern with brand new split screen computers, which was a little intimidating at first. The week I started there, all the buzz around the office was about Kevin Costner’s wife being there for a visit. She worked for Delta before Kevin became a famous actor. I never got to meet Kevin Coster, but over the course of the next year I did run into Ed Begley Jr. (Ghostbuster’s, St. Elsewhere), and I talked to Gary Collins (actor and talk show host) and Elton John’s agent on the phone. Ha!

Welcome to Hollywood. 😂

My new position was as a full-time reservation agent. I was basically doing the same job that I had in Tampa, except this position was permanent and full-time. My seniority wasn’t much better here than it was in Tampa so the best schedule I could get was the night shift getting off at 01:00 a.m.

One night after work I was the first one to come upon the scene of a traffic accident; a young man and his motorcycle were lying in the middle of the intersection. As I got out of my car another car pulled up and the driver told me he worked for United Airlines and that he also just got off work. We walked up to the accident victim, asking each other if we knew how to do CPR. I knelt down to try to get his pulse; no pulse. I put my ear next to his mouth; no breath. I said a quick prayer for his family, whoever they were. I felt so sorry that they would soon be finding out their loved one was no longer alive. Then out of nowhere, a police officer ran up to me. He asked if I was a witness or if I knew him, and I told him no. The policeman proceeded to emphatically tell me to get up, return to my car, and leave ASAP.

I was a little shocked, but did exactly what I was told. Apparently he was just doing his job as I found out later that thieves were known to stage accidents like this, to rob you, or worse. Unfortunately for this young man but fortunately for me, this was not a staging.

Over the course of the next year, I didn’t come across any more fatalities, but it wasn’t unusual to be driving down the street, at any hour of the day or night, and to witness police with guns drawn, and suspects spread eagle.

Actually, Harold did have a close call with death while we lived there. I nearly strangled him one night:

I came home from work on a Friday night (at my usual time of around 1:30 a.m.) and found out that he let Michelle spend the night with a friend that she played with at the park near our home, but neither of us had her full name, her address, the names of her mom or her step-dad, or either of their phone numbers. All we knew was that she lived in an apartment across the street. I was beyond livid, and up all night worrying and praying, alternatively. At the crack of dawn I was over at her apartment complex walking up and down the sidewalks looking for her come out of one of the apartment buildings. I walked. I prayed. Repeat. I went home alone, praying all the way.

Thankfully, she came home within a few hours. She was safe. I was relieved and so thankful.

Oh, and Harold survived too, but barely.

Michelle and Megan with their friends at the park next to our apartment:

We attended a Baptist church in Manhattan Beach that had an Awana program. The girls enjoyed Awana back in Florida, so I was happy to find a church with the same program in California. One of the Awana leaders was a handsome young man with a great personality. His speech was slightly slurred and he always wore a ball cap. One day he took off his ball cap to show me that he only had half of a scull. Half of his brain was removed due to a car accident from a few years before. He had recovered almost all of his brain function through therapy and God’s help. Amazing.

Christmas at our Torrance apartment. All of our Christmas ornaments were in storage back in Florida so I hung some dollar store ornaments and garland up on the wall as a makeshift Christmas tree this year:

While in Torrance we arranged for my mom to come stay with us for a few months. She was a great help with the girls and we enjoyed a first time vacation to Hawaii together too.

During the time she stayed with us I could tell that Alzheimer’s was chipping away at her, little by little. While I was gone walking Michelle to school one morning, she took a walk as well and got lost. I called the police and thankfully she was located right away but it gave me an awful scare. She knew her memory was getting worse and it was beginning to upset her. In time, I came to realize that she stopped being aware of it, so eventually she wasn’t upset about it anymore. I also believe, regardless of how terrible a disease it is, that God has a plan and purpose for everything and that “we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus” and that a disease doesn’t change that. God is in control no matter what.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

Mom and Megan in the atrium park at our apartment:

We liked living in Torrance, but the bulk of our family was on the other side of the United States. Besides that, the earthquakes were a little unnerving, and the cost of living was so expensive. I called it a “Real Estate Twilight Zone.” So it wasn’t long before I began thinking about transferring out of Los Angeles. When I saw a new job opening in special contracts with Delta in Atlanta come up on the job board, I was intrigued. I prayed about it, discussed it with Harold, and got an appointment for an interview. Atlanta wasn’t home, but it would be a lot closer to it.

On the flight to ATL for my interview, I settled in my seat hoping for a nice quiet flight and to do some reading. I’d brought my bible and had been reading it for about 30 minutes when the young man next to me struck up a conversation. He started out apologizing to me for drinking a beer. It was a morning flight and I had noticed that he was drinking beer (in the morning) 😳 but I told him no need to apologize. We ended up talking the rest of the flight. He told me that his dad was a pastor and that he was a Christian but that he hadn’t been living in God’s will for some time. He said seeing me reading my bible convicted him and made him think about his current walk with the Lord. Once in Atlanta, I went on to the interview and quickly realized that my chances of getting this job was likely slim to none. I returned to LAX and wasn’t surprised to learn that I didn’t get the job. By this time I already knew that the job God intended for me was sitting in that seat, that day, on that airplane.

May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us – yes, establish the work of our hands. Psalm 90:17

Then, my supervisor suggested I go into the management program, so I decided to give it a try. On the very day I was supposed to start management training, Megan was admitted to UCLA Children’s Hospital with meningitis. So instead of starting a new management training class I asked for time off to be with her. Megan stayed in the hospital for two weeks on IV antibiotics. The infectious disease doctor was perplexed by her test results, suggesting that her meningitis was associated with a problem with the cadaver dura that was used for her surgery in Tampa several months before.

Then, within two months, she was back in the hospital, having yet another neurosurgery to try to detach some of the tumor from her spine. It was after this surgery she was fitted for leg braces and had to start a routine of voiding by catheter. It was a very trying time in our lives, once again. And yet, once again I felt the presence of God helping us through it. In retrospect, I believe God, knowing that Megan was going to need more surgery, placed us near one of the best children’s hospitals and one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, and at just the right time.

The LORD has established His throne in the heavens, and His sovereignty rules over all. Psalm 103:19

Megan with gifts she got while in the hospital:

After several hospital and doctor visits I decided I would no longer pursue any upward career moves within Delta. Megan had so many medical issues I needed to be available both mentally and physically to focus on her. I was however, still very interested in getting back to the other side of the country. So, in June of 1991, after one year in Los Angeles, I made a lateral move and transferred to the Jacksonville, Florida Reservation Office: God willing, the subject of a future writing. 🖊

Where Are We?!

Driving through northern Florida late one night in the fall of 1988, our young daughters, Michelle and Megan were fast asleep in the back seat of the car. As we drove into a small town, Michelle woke up and asked, “Where are we?” I replied, “Starke”. She said, “No, where are we?” I again replied, “Starke”. She then sat up and yelled, “I know it’s dark! I said where are we?!” Harold and I cracked up laughing!! 😂

In retrospect, it was a kind of a prophetic moment for our family. We had just moved to Tampa from Indianapolis a few months earlier. Little did we know at this point in time, that over the span of the next five years we would be making three more big moves.

Tampa, actually Brandon, a small suburb east of Tampa, is where we were currently living at this particular moment in time. We lived an apartment at first and then in a house with a lease/option to buy. It was there in Brandon where I experienced a big growth in my relationship with God. I talk about that experience in my previous writing titled Another Gospel.

Some of my favorite memories in Brandon were times with my mom. She was able to come stay with us for a couple of extended visits, and even though she was in the very early stages of Alzheimer’s then, we didn’t let that keep us from enjoying time together. We went to church, visited Florida relatives, went swimming and to the park. I loved having her with us and I think she really enjoyed it too.

Harold worked as a car salesman at a car dealership in Brandon and I found a temporary part-time job in Tampa through a Temp Agency. Finances were tight and I didn’t like my job, but at least it was a job. With Harold’s job being primarily based on commission and my job being part-time, our income was hit and miss. Sometimes we were fine, other times, not-so-much. During the not-so-much times, we were so short on money that I pawned my wedding rings two times just to have grocery money. Before moving to Tampa I had never even went into a pawn shop but by the second transaction I finally realized it wasn’t exactly the smartest way to manage money.

One Saturday afternoon I popped some popcorn, stuffed it in my purse, and headed for the $1 Theatre with the girls. It had all the makings for a great day, all except on this particular day my brakes quit working. I nearly ran into another car and almost ran off the road. Somehow I managed to pull in to a shopping plaza, rolling to a stop without hitting anybody. We got out of the car and sat on a park bench outside one of the stores. Harold was at work and this was before cell phones. I sat there contemplating what to do, near tears, and decided just to pray. Within a few minutes an auto repair van pulled up and parked right in front of us. I jumped up and asked him if he could look at my brakes. I told him I didn’t have much money and that I’d been sitting there praying about what to do. He smiled and offered to take a look at the brakes. He came back and told me that the emergency brake was on and that was what caused them to get hot and not work. He said it would be safe to drive once they were fully cooled down. I offered to give him the few dollars that I had on me but he refused any money. I was relieved and simply amazed how God answered my prayer in such a tangible way.

Then in April of 1989 I got hired by Delta Air Lines and was so excited! It too was a temporary part-time position but getting hired by Delta was an answer to prayer. In Indianapolis I’d worked for a small airline and was hoping to get on with a major airline in Tampa. I really was just so happy about getting hired by Delta, that I chose not to worry about the fact that I’d have to work nights, that it was a temporary position, and only part-time.

I worked in the reservations office right outside of the Tampa airport in a triangle shaped building called The Paragon. One night my car broke down on I-4E coming home after work around 1:30 a.m. in the morning. A not-so-nice grumpy policeman stopped and then reluctantly drove me to the nearest gas station where he just dropped me off and left. Now, this was the kind of gas station with bars on the windows. 😳 I called Harold repeatedly on a pay phone but he was doing what most people were doing at 1:30 a.m., sleeping. I kept calling and calling until he finally woke up. He had to put the girls in the car and come get me and try to fix my car in the wee hours of the morning, and then he had to turnaround to get to work on time.

Good times.

Not.

While our finances and our car problems were an issue, our major on-going concern was for Megan, our youngest daughter (at the time). She was born with Spina Bifada and was having ongoing medical issues. She had an initial neurosurgery shortly after birth in Indianapolis and was doing well. In Tampa, however, she began having a few problems which resulted in several doctor and hospital visits, and two neurosurgeries at All Children’s Hospital in St Petersburg. The second surgery was mainly to correct a problem from the first surgery here. We stayed at a nearby Ronald McDonald House at no charge during these times which was much needed and appreciated. The hospital was only about an hour away but the traffic was awful so we really appreciated being able to stay right there near the hospital. I worked nights and Harold worked days and we managed it as best we could. It was a very trying time in our lives. I prayed a lot. Prayer helped me to focus on God instead of all of our problems. It was here I learned an important truth about prayer:

The power of prayer is not in the act of praying; the power is in God. It was God who helped us get through these days.

By the spring of 1990, things were going good but I was hearing some rumblings around the office that some of the temporary agents may be let go at anytime. Back when I first started working there, I was told not to hold my breath waiting for a permanent position in Tampa. They told me that the last temporary agent that got converted to a permanent full-time agent there was seven years before. I kept checking the job board for a permanent position to come up, but just like they warned me, it wasn’t happening. I was starting to worry about losing my job and our much needed medical insurance. I decided to pray about it and to trust in whatever answer He made available to us.

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Philippians 4:6

Then one day I saw on the job board that a permanent full-time position opened up ….. but it was in Los Angeles! I thought, how in the world could we actually live in Los Angeles?! I prayed about it, talked it over with Harold, put in for the position, and found out within a few days that they awarded me the position in Los Angeles.

So in June of 1990, it was Los Angeles or bust! We put the bulk of our furniture in storage, packed up our personal belongings and shipped them via Delta cargo, and drove to LA, with two young kids and one car in tow. For our young family of four, it was quite a challenging move. By the grace of God we got there safely, settled in an apartment, and began the next chapter in our lives: the perfect subject for my next writing. 🖊

The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever. Psalm 121:7-8

No Ragrets

I’ve never been a fan of tattoos, not even the little ones with pretty little flowers in inconspicuous places. I love flowers, and I realize it’s a personal choice, but why a person would mark up their body—in permanent ink, no less—is a mystery to me. With that said, I do have some favorite satirical “No Regrets” tattoo memes: “No Ragrets,” “No Regerts,” “No Regets,” and “Noregrets.” That pretty much sums up my opinion of tattoos.

On the serious side of regret, it really isn’t a very pleasant subject. It usually represents a failure of some kind; something we’ve done wrong or something we’ve failed to do. It is a regret that produces sorrow or leaves you with a sense of remorse. Or a regret that a window of opportunity has closed.

I think it’s virtually impossible for anyone, who has any semblance of a conscience, to have lived their life with no regrets. For all those who appear to have no conscience I suspect they’ve worked very hard to suppress it.

A healthy conscience helps us navigate the whys and the why-nots in our lives. Important questions for sure, but I think the most important question we could ever ask ourselves is where we will spend eternity.

There is nothing in life that’s more final than death, and there’s nothing in life that’s more certain than death. The simple odds are: ten out of ten people die.

Upon hearing of someone’s death, I wonder, did they know the Lord? Did I ever hear them say something about their relationship with Christ? Did I see something they’ve written about their faith? No matter if I knew them or not. If I did know them, then it becomes intensely more personal. My thoughts change to, did I ever have any spiritual conversations with them?

I didn’t always think this way.

I regret not being more concerned about spiritual matters when I was younger.

I regret not having faith conversations with people I cared about, who died unexpectedly and/or at a young age.

I regret not really knowing where people I cared about are spending eternity.

God has since given me a heart for the lost, and a desire to spread the gospel, but I still experience some regret.

Why don’t we share our faith? Fear is probably up at the top of the list; fear of failure and/or not knowing what exactly to say. But Matthew 10:19 reminds us:

“Do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour.”

Not living within God’s will is another reason. If we’re not walking and talking with Him daily, just how exactly would He use us to share the gospel when we’re not being obedient in our own personal relationship with Him?

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5

Other reasons include being caught up in the busyness of life and being more concerned with the things of this world.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:2

Or, maybe we just fail to love people as much as we should.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” John 13:34

Whatever the situation (or excuse), if you’re a Christian and you’re not sharing your faith—ask yourself why not?

Pray about being willing, being ready, and being available.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

Pray for opportunities, tender hearts, and trust in God’s perfect timing.

And,

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.” Ephesians 5:15-16

The Blame Game

Back in the early 1970’s, Flip Wilson made us all laugh when he claimed, “The devil made me do it!” His TV show was funny and his shtick was brilliant; he took something that was common to all of us and turned it into comedy.

The truth is, we’re all guilty of pointing our finger at someone or something and quick to deflect the blame away from ourselves; it’s in our nature. Flip made light of blaming the devil for everything, and made a good living at it for a while. Eventually, like most TV shows, the ratings went down and the show was canceled.

While Flip Wilson’s TV show was short lived, “The Blame Game” is actually the longest running “game” in history. We’ve all have had staring rolls in it at some point in our lives; some to a greater or lesser degree and whether we’re willing to admit it or not. Here’s a recap of episode #1

Blame Game Episode #1 🎬

Starring: Adam and Eve

Setting: The Garden of Eden

Author: Moses (Inspired by God)

Synopsis: In Genesis 3, God asked Adam, “Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?”

The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.”

Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?”

The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

Adam blames Eve.

Eve blames the serpent.

And thus began the first episode of “The Blame Game”

The Blame Game typically begins in our own lives when we as little children, blame anybody and anything to avoid admitting we’ve done something wrong! It’s very natural and sometimes comical to see a child doing this but it’s the wise parent who let’s the child know early on that they know the truth, guides them toward admitting they’ve done wrong, and punishes them in an age appropriate way if warranted.

The Blame Game may become a little more complicated as we grow up, but nevertheless it’s still the same old game. In my own life, I went through various traumas when I was young. For many years I saw myself as a victim, at first unconsciously and then later more consciously. The tricky part about being a victim is that there is a perpetrator to rightfully blame but it becomes problematic if you then try to justify your own sinful behavior because you were a victim. It’s very convenient and so much easier to blame someone or something for the sin in your own life. Not to take away from the fact that I was a victim, but, and more importantly, it really wasn’t until I saw myself as a sinner too, that I began growing in my Christian life.

But each person is tempted

when he is lured and enticed

by his own desire.

James 1:14

Owning up to the sin on my life not only put my opinion of myself in proper perspective but it also lead me to a clearer concept of forgiveness. We’re all sinners in need of a Savior.

Plain and simple, we are responsible for the choices that we make. Not other people. If you’re blaming your bad choices and your bad behavior on other people, simply put, you’re wrong. Own up to the sin in your life, and if you’ve never done this yet, there’s no better time than the present. God is a loving Father, who waits patiently for you to turn to Him in repentance and faith.

If we confess our sins,

He is faithful and just

to forgive us our sins

and to cleanse us from all

unrighteousness.

1 John 1:9

100%

Ford-100% Kavanaugh-100% Interesting. I watched the Ford-Kavanaugh senate hearing on TV for most of the day yesterday. My honest opinion is that they both seemed very believable. I would like to think that it’s just a case of mistaken identity on her part, but she claims she’s 100% certain it was him. He claims that it was 100% not him. I’m not going to judge either one as a liar.

But I do think this hearing should remind everyone that everything we do is subject to scrutiny at some point in the future. If not by some type of legal proceeding, then ultimately by God Himself.

Here’s the thing: to be on the safe side of the law, don’t break it. To be on the safe side of God, you have to admit you’re a lawbreaker. The irony is, it’s impossible not to break the law because we’re all sinners. No matter how good you think you are or what others think of you. You may be able to persuade people and/or the law one way or the other, but in the end, what real good will that do you if you’ve not reconciled with God? The truth is, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Roman’s 3:23

To me, this senate hearing was the culmination of an unfortunate course of events, with the only possible good outcome being that it might bring attention to the total depravity of man and the total sovereignty of God, and that many would take Him up on his free gift of salvation.

Mirrors

Mirrors-3

My husband and I are on the road a lot. I enjoy traveling and my husband enjoys being in the motor home business so that works out well for the both of us.

We buy a lot of motor homes and I often drive one too if we buy more than one motor home at a time. I’ll never forget a few of years ago I got on I-4 West in Florida driving a 36-foot motor home back home to Texas, when I suddenly realized I’d forgot to adjust the side mirrors! The right mirror was totally turned in and I couldn’t see the cars to the right of me at all. I quickly called my husband who was driving ahead of me, to have him look back and tell me if I could change lanes so I could exit and fix my mirrors.

That was my first (and hopefully last) mistake concerning my mirrors while driving a motor home. I’ve learned to trust and depend very much on those mirrors.

Mirrors are helpful in little things too. All through my grade school years I was extremely near-sighted and wore glasses. I remember on my 13th birthday, my parents, at the suggestion of my sister, Joyce, gave me the gift of hard contact lenses. I was so excited about not having to wear my old glasses anymore but was a little nervous about putting the contacts in my eyes. The eye doctor eased my fears by teaching me how to put them in using a small mirror. With that small mirror and a little bit of practice it wasn’t long before I was a pro at it.

So in January of 2018 I decided to read through the Bible, again. I think this was my third time of reading through the Bible. As usual, I learn and/or discover new insights each time I read the Bible. Even simple things. For example I don’t think I ever realized until the 2018 reading that the Ten Commandments are written down in both Exodus and Deuteronomy. It’s common actually for the Bible to repeat laws and various verses in the Bible and The Ten Commandments are certainly important enough to be repeated. So, it got me thinking about the Law.

The Law is actually like a mirror. Like a mirror, the Law helps us to see the “dirt and imperfections,” (aka the sin) in our lives.

Just as a mirror shows us what we really look like, the Law convicts us of our sin, and the only cure for the sin in our life is Jesus.

“Therefore the law was our tutor to bring usto Christ, that we might be justified by faith.” Galatians 3:24

To be clear, the Law doesn’t save us. Only Jesus saves. But, the recognizing of our need to be saved, seeing the “the dirt and imperfections in the mirror” aka, the sin in our life, is a step to salvation.

“The recognition of sin is the beginning of salvation.” Martin Luther

So the Law makes us aware and convicts us of our sin.

Then,

Turning away from sin in repentance, and turning to Jesus Christ in faith, trusting in Him for the forgiveness of our sin. and believing that He is who He says He is, is what brings us into a right relationship with Christ.

“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” Mark 1:15

Something to think about the next time you look in the mirror.

Billy Graham

Someday you will read or hear that Billy Graham is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it. I shall be more alive than I am now. I will just have changed my address. I will have gone into the presence of God. #BillyGraham

In October of 2002, Billy Graham came to Dallas to speak in what was to be one of his last crusades, The Metroplex Mission, a four night event. Weeks before, our church was contacted by the BGEA to be one of the participation area churches. I attended the Billy Graham five-week training program at our church and volunteered to be a counselor at the Dallas Metroplex Mission crusade.

Part of the 5-week training program included bible verse memorization, which my oldest daughter, Michelle, helped me with. As a result, she memorized those bible verses too. It was during this time I began praying for one of my husband’s friends who was in the hospital and was not expected to live. My daughter and I went to visit him in the ICU at the hospital where we found him on a ventilator and unable to talk. That gave us plenty of opportunity to do all the talking. So we shared some of the Bible verses from the BGEA training, went over the plan of salvation, and prayed out loud for him.

The next day, my daughter told me that she had been sharing the Bible verses with her boyfriend and that he’d been asking a lot of questions about becoming a Christian. I encouraged her to go over the plan of salvation with him as soon as God gave her the next opportunity, which came that very night. He received Christ as His Savior in response to the gospel. He started attending our church and began a one-on-one Bible study with his Sunday School teacher. He also came to the first night of the Metroplex Mission and came forward to make a public profession of faith.

On that first night of Mission Metroplex, Billy Graham, at age 83, spoke clearly about God’s love and His plan of salvation. One of the first girls that I spoke with was a 22 year old young lady who came forward to rededicate her life. She explained that she first came to know Christ at age 20 but that she had not been following Him the way she knew she should. I told her that when I was young, I did the same. I explained that I first came to faith in Christ at age 12 and then drifted away in my teens and early twenties. I mentioned that when I was her age I was working as a cocktail waitress and bartender and didn’t turn my life around until I was in my mid-twenties, a few days after hearing Billy Graham speak on TV. Her eyes opened wide and she looked shocked. She told me that she was currently working as a cocktail waitress and bartender. So, out of the over 2300 people that come forward to make a decision for Christ that night, God arranged for the two of us with a similar background, to connect and speak with each other. Amazing

Over the next few nights at Mission Metroplex I had the privilege of talking and praying for several more ladies. After it was over I came away with the understanding that Christians should always be ready to share our faith anytime, not just at a Billy Graham crusade.

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15

Concerning my husband’s friend who was in the hospital, he passed away within a few days of our visit. While I don’t know if he was able to hear us, or if he ever received Christ, I do know it was those same Bible verses and plan of salvation that we spoke to him about that my daughter shared with her boyfriend, who in turn responded by receiving Christ. A little over a year later, this young man died unexpectedly at age 24 and I believe he is in heaven today because he placed his trust in Jesus.

Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. James 4:15

On February 21, 2018, I woke up to the news that Billy Graham had passed away at age 99. Billy Graham spent the bulk of his life preaching the the gospel and pointing millions and millions of people to Christ, one of which was me.

I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die. John 11:25

In the spring of 1988 I moved from Indiana to Florida with our two young daughters to meet up with my husband who had moved there a few months ahead of us. I was a little anxious about moving away from everything that was familiar to me. Actually, I really didn’t want to move, but I’d prayed about it and was trusting in God that it’d all work out. Actually it was pretty exciting to move into an “almost” new home in Brandon, Florida, a suburb of Tampa, that we leased with an option to buy.

One of the first things I did after moving into our new home was make a list of nearby churches. I prayed and asked God to help us find a new church.

I narrowed my search down to primarily Baptist churches, but I was also open to possibly visiting other Protestant denominations. I preferred Baptist churches as I found that I was growing in my faith by listening to Baptist preachers on the radio more than by listening to the sermons at my Methodist church in Indianpolis. I also loved hearing all of the Bible verses in Baptist sermons.

To be clear, I enjoyed the familiarity and the friendships at my Methodist church, and it was there that I first trusted in Christ at the age of twelve. However, I don’t believe it was a saving faith. As a result, I drifted away from attending my Methodist church in my teens and early twenties. I returned there in my mid-twenties after turning to Christ in repentance and faith. Going back to the Methodist church seemed like the right thing to do at the time, however I eventually grew uncomfortable there. The sermons weren’t convicting and they increasingly seemed long on stories and short on Bible verses. To make matters worse, my Sunday School class wanted to study so-called “Christian” books, rather than the Bible. I believe the move to Florida came in God’s perfect timing.

So, as soon as we got settled in our new home in Florida, I got the girls ready every Sunday, and we’d go visit a new church. It wasn’t long before the girls were complaining and I was also getting tired of visiting so many different churches. Something was wrong. None of the messages seemed convicting to me. None of the people seemed friendly, and none of the churches felt right. It was discouraging.

Then one day I opened the door to two nice young men who wanted to talk to me about God. So, I welcomed them inside and I told them that we were new to the area and that we were actively looking for a church to join. I remember thinking how nice they were to go out to talk to people door-to-door. They spoke of Jesus, strong family values, and good, clean living. I was impressed. They gave me a paperback copy of one of their books and I accepted their invitation to come visit their church.

The next Sunday we went to their church. The first thing I noticed was that there wasn’t a cross anywhere, inside or out. They didn’t have a pastor. Instead, they had a few members who stood up and spoke, but it seemed more like a business meeting than a church service. Then, they held communion and used water instead of grape juice! I began to question myself, “What kind of church is this?” Everyone was so nice, but I walked out of that church confused. These people were probably some of the sweetest people you’d ever want to meet, but this church, which used the name of Jesus Christ in its title, was not like any church I was used to.

The following Saturday the two young men came back for a follow-up visit, so I asked them…

• Why do you use another book besides the Bible? They said it was because they believed that the two books were better than one and that they complemented each other, adding, “Are not two witnesses better than one?”

• Why don’t you have a cross on your church? They said that crosses on top of churches were just lightning rods. They also questioned why churches would want to put crosses up, as dying on the cross was such a horrendous way to die.

• Why do you use water instead of grape juice for communion? They said that water was a better representation of Christ because of its clarity and purity, and questioned why anyone would want to drink “blood.”

• Why don’t you have a pastor? They said it was because they believed that it’s wrong to pay someone to talk about Christ, and that pastors who accept money for preaching are apostates, or people who have left the faith.

With each of their answers I became increasingly uncomfortable, especially when they referred to their other books. They basically had an answer for everything, including some biblical references, but I was very skeptical. I felt their explanations were all wrong but I lacked the confidence and biblical knowledge to debate them. I was also a bit confused because they claimed to be Christians, and they were so incredibly nice.

I told them that I attended church as a child but that it wasn’t until I was in my mid-twenties that I was convicted about the sin in my life and turned to Christ in repentance and faith, and that this was after watching Billy Graham preach on TV one night. They questioned who Billy Graham was, and I was shocked. This was 1988. Billy Graham was probably one of the most well known Christian evangelist in the world at this time. I thought, what kind of Christian doesn’t know who Billy Graham is? So as BIG red flags popped up in my mind, I escorted them to the door.

I decided it was time to pay a visit to the local Christian bookstore where I found a book titled, The God Makers. I began reading it that Saturday afternoon and stayed up almost all night reading the entire 600+ page book. It was more than just enlightening; it was shocking. How could I have been so naïve? How did I not know that they had a false gospel, that they worship another Jesus, and not the Jesus of the Bible? Keep in mind that in 1988 the World Wide Web was not yet invented, but still—how did I not know?

After only a few hours of sleep, I woke up late and thought that if I hurried, I could go to the closest Baptist church to our house—right around the corner. I had previously dismissed visiting this church because the building was so old and small. It was nearly time for church to start when I turned into the tree-lined driveway next to that old, tiny, wood-framed church. I was completely surprised to see a huge, new church building farther back on their property surrounded by trees. That old tiny church out front was just there as a memorial of their original church building.

I rushed in just in time for the service to start. The church was packed. The songs were spirit filled. The people had their Bibles, pens, and paper in hand to take notes as the pastor spoke. His message that day was on the grace of God. Everything the pastor said was so true, so convicting, and spoke directly to my heart. He quoted Bible verse after Bible verse on the grace of God. Everything made perfect sense. I went forward at the end of the service. I was both moved by the pastor’s sermon and upset with myself for having such a precious gift of salvation and somehow not knowing enough to avoid going to that other church. And all the while, this wonderful church was the closest one to me! How ironic! Well, actually—how providential.

Soon after, I joined that church, Providence Baptist Church, in Brandon, Florida, and was baptized by full immersion. I was 33 years old at this time and was convicted that God was calling me to take this step of obedience. I recalled my experience at age 12, when I was corralled into a Methodist Confirmation Class along with a group of other 6th graders simply because of our age. Once the class was deemed concluded, I was sprinkled, aka “baptized,” along with a group of my classmates in a Sunday morning church service. In retrospect, it was more about becoming a member of the church than having a saving relationship with Christ.

I soon got involved Providence Baptist Church’s Bible study, children’s church, the bus ministry, and eventually helping with the visitation ministry, which was the very thing that I admired in what those two young men were doing. However, when given the opportunity, I told people the truth. I told them that,

• The Bible alone is God’s word and it is sufficient and sovereign. No one should add or take away from it, and

• The cross is the symbol of our Christian faith as it was on the cross that Jesus died in our place, for our sins.

• The shed blood of Christ is precious to us because it provided a way of salvation to all who believe in Jesus. Grape juice has long been used for Christian communion of the Lord’s Supper as a symbol of His sacrifice and the new Covenant.

God answered my prayer about finding a new church in a way that I wasn’t expecting. I got so much more than just a new church home. I also learned some valuable lessons.

First, although I was praying and looking for a new church, I was putting too much emphasis on finding a “church” and not enough on growing my personal relationship with Him. I believe God, by His grace, moved me 1,000 miles away from home to grow me in my faith and in my relationship with Him. I really wasn’t growing in Christ at my old church in Indianapolis. God used this experience to remind me that it’s our personal relationship with Him that is important, and that our relationship with Him should always be growing. We’re told in 2 Peter 3:18 to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord.”

Second, I believe God allowed this experience so that I’d be better equipped to warn others about false churches. The church I visited, if you haven’t already guessed, was a Mormon church, also known as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or LDS Church. After what I learned about them, those initials might as well have stood for Lucifer, the Devil, and Satan. Their founder, Joseph Smith, was a false teacher. He claimed that Jesus was the spirit brother of Lucifer. He also believed that people could become gods, and that God started out as a man.

Interestingly, Joseph Smith claimed that The Book of Mormon was the most perfect book in the world, but the LDS church has edited and revised The Book of Mormon several times over the years, as well as his other books, The Pearl of Great Price and The Doctrine and Covenants. By the way, I threw my paperback copy of The Book of Mormon in the trash soon after reading The God Makers.

Of course, false religion is not limited to Mormons. I’ve written about them here because of my personal experience, but false religions are quite numerous and are prevalent all over the world today.

Actually, the best way to recognize that which is false is to know that which is true. So my best advice is this: Know Jesus and know His Word. Trust in Him alone and trust in the Bible as the final authority on everything. That’s it, plain and simple. That’s the best protection against false religions, those who preach “another gospel.”

“Not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.” Galatians 1:7-8

So whatever your situation and whatever your prayer, and whether He moves you a thousand miles away or keeps you right where you are, I pray that He answers your prayers in a most wonderful and providential way, as He did for me.

Treasure In Jars of Clay

My life story and journey of faith.

Author: elainecrandell