List-Making, Albino Pirates, and Stamped Eyeballs

I’m a list-maker.

I should have bought stock in Post-it Sticky Notes.

I’m a self-proclaimed queen of to-do lists. Grocery lists. And especially packing lists before going on a trip.

Toothpaste? Check. Snorkeling mask? Check. Boarding pass? Check. Photo ID? Check. House cleaned? Check. Suitcase packed? Check. Neighbor kid reminded to feed the dogs and water the flowers? Check.

This is my routine every time I go on a trip. The night before my departure, I lie in bed restlessly trying to doze off, mentally going through my “list of things to do” before I leave the city.

Of course, I had previously made a real list on paper and marked off the things that were already taken care of, but that gnawing “it still seems like I’m forgetting something” feeling always haunts me.

And how exciting the dreams are leading up to a big trip! For example, you forget to pack your swimsuit for your vacation to Hawaii and, since albino pirates have captured the importing cargo ships, all of the swimwear stores on the entire island are completely sold out, leaving you stuck in your hotel room longing for the sand and surf.

Or you dream about a truck hauling a herd of premature piglets that is overturned on the highway, making your car get stuck in traffic. You then feverishly dash through the airport only to learn that you’ve missed your flight to London by 3 minutes.

Don’t laugh at me. You know exactly what I’m talking about!

Maybe it was my good ol’ Southern home-training or my mom’s perfectionistic tendencies but we were never allowed to go out-of-town unless our house was clean. And she made a list to make sure it was done. All of our beds had to be made, the toilets sparkling, and the trash cans emptied. My mom wanted our house to be “in order.” You know, in case someone breaks in or our house catches on fire, we’d hate for the burglars and firefighters to think that we were slobs.

So, this good habit has been passed on to me. And at the end of a trip we would have to check the hotel dressers and underneath the beds at least 6 times to be sure that we didn’t forget anything.

Our biggest “make sure you don’t forget anything” moment happened the day that we moved out of the house that we had lived in for 20 years. I remember doing the 17th (and final) walk-through, opening every cabinet and looking behind every door to make sure that none of our belongings were left behind. Then checking off each room on our list as we exited. As I shut the door for the last time, I knew that I would never step foot back in that house again.

It’s good to make sure everything on your list is taken care of, right? After all, neglecting one thing on your list would be more costly than another. For example, forgetting to buy a gallon of milk or pick up your dry cleaning after work, not a life-altering big deal. But forgetting to show up for your wedding day or jury duty? A much different story!

I have been wondering if Harold Camping was a list-maker.

You probably remember the name Harold Camping, right? He was the man who was made a household figure (and laughing-stock) after predicting that Jesus would return on May 21, 2011, at 6 pm in each time zone.

When I Googled his name, one of the top search results was “May 21 Rapture Jokes.” You probably heard some yourself. Or saw the photos of clothes sprawled out in public parks, as if their owners had suddenly left them behind.

What in the world do you put on your “MY LAST DAY ON EARTH” list?

Talk about daunting!

How did Harold Camping live what he believed to be his last day on earth? Did he sleep at all? If there is any night to be restless or pull an all-nighter, it seems like that would be a good one!

What list was he mentally checking off as he lay in bed on the eve of what was to be his departure day? Was he afraid that he would forget to do something?

Maybe he used that day cleaning his house – making the beds, cleaning the toilets, taking out the trash. You know, just in case the news reporters came to do a report from his now unoccupied home.

Did he eat his favorite meal? Did he splurge on dessert because the calories wouldn’t matter the next day?

Now, I know some of this is humorous, but these are questions I have really been pondering. Don’t you think that he and his followers lived differently since they thought that their last day was nearing?

Or were his thoughts much less on what would be left behind than on what, or better yet Who, he would see once he got to his destination? Did he spend the final hours repenting of his own sin because he was about to see a holy God? Or were they spent trying to evangelize his family, friends, and neighbors?

While I never thought that the rapture would actually happen on that specific day, I did find it astounding how committed Harold Camping and his followers were to this cause. As we say in the South, “they put their money where their mouths were,” meaning they used all of their time and resources on billboards, radio announcements, and signs on 18-wheeler trucks, trying to make sure that people knew to be rapture-ready.

I’ve really tried to watch my words concerning this topic. There are many mockers. I don’t want to be like them. Because I know what it is like to be mocked for believing that there really is coming a day when the bride of Christ will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18).

I don’t want to mock a man who spent millions of dollars on his belief if I haven’t even taken the time to share the gospel with my neighbor. I have been provoked. Do I live as if Jesus is returning soon? I like to think that I do. But does the way that I spend my time, my money, and my energy reflect that belief?

Am I truly living with urgency?

Scripture is clear that “no one knows the day nor the hour (Matthew 24:36).” However, it also says that Day will not overtake those who are living in light, soberly watching and waiting for Jesus’ return (1 Thessalonians 5:1-11).

The reality is that my life and your life really is a vapor that appears for a moment and then quickly passes away (James 4:13-14).

After all, what is 70, 80, even 100 years in comparison to eternity?

When considering forever, it is as if life in this age is almost over – even from the day that we are born.

Harold Camping was wrong about the date of his May 21^st predictions but he was right about one thing: Jesus is coming back!

This doesn’t have to be bad news. It’s actually words that can bring comfort and hope!

You don’t really believe that this life is all there is to it, do you?

Your final day on earth may be the day before the rapture, or 30 years from now lying in a hospital bed surrounded by loved ones, or…tomorrow.

One of my favorite authors, Leonard Ravenhill, emphasized eternity this way: “If God should stamp eternity or even judgment on our eyeballs…I am quite convinced we’d be a very, very different tribe of people, God’s people, in the world today. We live too much in time, we’re too earth bound. We see as other men see, we think as other men think. We invest our time as the world invests it. We’re supposed to be a different breed of people. I believe that the church of Jesus Christ needs a new revelation of the majesty of God. We’re all going to stand one day, can you imagine it – at the judgment seat of Christ to give an account for the deeds done in the body…and there’s no court of appeal after it. The verdict is final.”

You may not be a list-maker. But one thing you and I have in common: We all will have a final day in this age on earth.

You may not like to think about death and eternity, but you would be wise to do so.

Add this to your list: Live each day as if I could meet God at any moment.

Because one day you will.

Empty Passports and Full Quivers

I wish I had a nickel for every time someone asked this homeschooled student, “Don’t you miss not going to school dances?” or “How do you live without sports teams and chess clubs?” Really? Actually, I don’t feel like I missed out on anything at all (unless you count miserable bus-rides, 8-hour school days, cafeteria food, and being well-educated from the dirty kids on the playground and the even dirtier words on the bathroom walls).

I have very fond memories of those first through twelfth grade years. Yes, my classroom desk was our family’s kitchen table. Pajamas were allowed to be worn in class. And if our mom was busy in another room, my brother and I would occasionally sneak away to catch an episode of “The Price is Right.” My favorite games will always be Cliff Hanger and Plinko and Drew Carey can never replace Bob Barker.

Which reminds me, I need to help control the pet population by having my pets spayed or neutered.

These are just a few of the many advantages to being homeschooled. Another is being the only student in my graduating class because I won every award – valedictorian, most likely to succeed, best athlete, most beautiful, tallest, shortest, and wittiest.

Has it really been 10 years since I donned that hideous royal blue gown, white pantyhose and matching white shoes that would make even your grandma cringe? It was a make-do homeschool graduation. I had never met any of the other graduates but our families wanted to make it as legit as possible. Cap and gown, tassels, cake, punch, pastel mints, group photos, Pomp and Circumstance, and the whole nine yards.

The best part of graduating from high school was checking the mailbox every day to see if I got another card from congratulatory friends and family. And more importantly, if the card had money in it.

Don’t act “holier than Thou.” You know you did the same thing!

How many of those cards do we really read anyways? I think I could quote Jeremiah 29:11 in my sleep during that time. Is there an unspoken rule between card-makers that the “I know the plans I have for you, to prosper you, to give you a hope and a future” passage is the only Bible verse ever allowed to be used on graduation cards? Sorry, Aunt Lucille! But let’s be honest, most of us probably tossed those cards in the trash on our way out the door to cash the checks!

That graduation money really came in handy for me. The summer after I graduated, I used the extra moolah to take my first international mission trip to Nicaragua. It cost $1,000, which was a lot of money at that time. Who am I kidding? It is still a lot of money!

Before I could leave the country, I was required to get a tetanus shot. I hated needles, so as I sat in that crowded health department waiting room, I reassured myself that there would be special treasure in heaven by making this huge sacrifice for the sake of the Kingdom. Maybe Foxe could add a chapter to his book for those who were willing to undergo such treatment? It would read something like, “Some were beheaded, others burned at the stake, and still others received immunizations in order to share the gospel.”

I also had to get my passport, which seemed like it practically took an act of Congress to receive. I could barely contain my excitement when it finally arrived in that oh-so-official United States Government envelope. Its pages were empty but that was okay because I had big dreams.

After all, I had said yes to the Lord’s call into full-time ministry 3 years earlier at summer camp. I was going to be a world-traveling missionary, who spent more time in foreign lands than in my own home.

I remember going to the airport for my first ever plane ride that hot July day in 2001. The intimidating officer at the customs check-point gave me my first stamp in my brand-new passport: Nicaragua.

I was so proud of my 18 -year-old self!

I made a promise in my heart to fill every page in the passport with stamps to various countries before it expired in 10 years.

I thought to myself, “10 years! That’s such a long time! What in the world will happen in 10 years? Where will I be in 2011? I’ll be 28 years old, probably married, and have a few kids by then. We will be a traveling missionary family who visits a different continent every weekend. Oh, the places I will go!”

Well, my passport expired this month.

It has 3 stamps in it.

Only 3 stamps in 10 years! Pages and pages are empty. Pages that I planned to fill. Is there something wrong with me? I had such big dreams. My life was planned out perfectly.

Kansas City, Missouri, was definitely not part of my plan.

My life at 28 doesn’t look like what I thought it would when I was 18 years old. I’m living in the Midwest of the United States…but I’m living my dream!

So, that’s what Proverbs 16:9 means when it says “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”

Being an intercessory missionary who has the honor of standing before the Lord in the watches of the night and touching many cities and countries in the place of prayer and worship wasn’t what I envisioned. But now that I’m doing it, I’m convinced that it is what I was created to do.

I haven’t gone to many nations, but many nations have come to me. I’ve had the privilege to disciple numerous young people from all over the world in the past few years. And some of these spiritual children are now in various nations, and they are training others how to walk out their love for God.

I am not married and do not have natural-born children yet, but I claim the promise of Psalm 127:3-5 for myself and my spiritual kids in this season of my life. “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord. The fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one’s youth. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them; they shall not be ashamed, but shall speak with their enemies in the gate.”

My good Shepherd has directed my steps so perfectly. Once again the Creator of the universe has shown me that His plans for my life have turned out to be much better than I could have ever dreamed.

I have a good heritage from the Lord. My reward is rich. I am not ashamed.

My passport may be empty but that’s okay because my quiver is full.

And it only dimly reflects the fullness of my heart!

Welcome to Tornado Alley

They say I live in “tornado alley.”

I’ve been a skeptic.

I usually laugh when people call Kansas City by this name.

After all, I grew up in Mississippi – the grandfather of all tornado alleys.

I have many childhood memories of sirens blaring and my mom pulling the mattresses off of our beds, then gathering her chicks into the most interior space, a narrow hallway surrounded by floral mattresses – a claustrophobic’s nightmare.

It was fun for me as a seven-year old because it gave me an excuse to stay up late and write in my Hello Kitty diary about this unexpected incident. And my 6-year-old brother would never turn down an opportunity to get in a few extra minutes playing with his Ninja Turtles in this homemade fort.

I remember my dad, who missed his calling as a Meteorologist and never gets scared, running into our rooms one stormy day. He was as white as a ghost, telling the entire family (dogs included) to pile into his pick-up truck. My mom thought he was crazy to be on the road, but it proved to be wisdom that he drove his most valued treasures – his wife and kids – as fast as possible in the opposite direction of the funnel cloud approaching our hometown.

Many adventures!

In fact, during one tornado drill, my best friend in kindergarten got her first kiss underneath the back pew of the sanctuary in the church where we obviously learned more than our ABC’s and 123′s.

So after living in Kansas City for over 2 years and never having a scare nor hearing a siren, the description of it being “tornado alley” has struck me as humorous.

I’ve been a skeptic.

Until today.

Yesterday was very bad weather – torrential rain, thunderstorms, and lightning shows. But we all thought it was gone. The newscaster said that we “dodged a bullet,” so I went to bed unalarmed and was sleeping like a baby.

I had been asleep for 4 hours when suddenly the siren directly behind our house started doing its job. My first thought was, “Is this a test or real?” After groggily calculating that today wasn’t the first Wednesday of the month, the day it is tested, the realization struck me and the grogginess left.

It was real.

My three roommates from upstairs quickly came downstairs into my bathroom because we had been told it was the place to be during tornadoes since it was partially underground and without windows.

Two of my roommates piled onto the cramped space on the floor, I sat on the toilet, and the other made herself cozy in the bathtub, which we decided probably wasn’t as safe as we thought since it had huge glass doors.

We were scared.

What was happening outside our usually peaceful abode? We had no way of knowing what was looming outside the doors but had to stay put until the sirens stopped.

We prayed and read the Psalms. I felt peace but couldn’t help but think that today could be my last in this life. I’ve heard stories of people in situations like these calling their families to say that they love them. Or others writing a final note to their loved ones.

I debated letting my family know, just because if it wasn’t a big deal, I’d hate to make them worried when they are nearly 700 miles away. But if something did happen to me, I know they would wonder why I hadn’t contacted them.

I texted them and told them to pray. My mom instructed us to get pillows to protect our heads from potentially falling debris. She also said that she knows that I am exactly where the Lord wants me to be and trusts that He has His big ol’ hands around me.

I’ve been in tornado warnings before but never without my family. How I wanted to be back in Mississippi with my mom’s reassuring voice in our cramped hallway with my pink diary and my brother’s plastic mutant friends, Michelangelo and Leonardo. I wished my dad was there watching the Weather Channel to let us know when it was safe to leave or drive us away from the storm.

It never felt this scary when I was a kid.

At the house of prayer where I serve as an intercessory missionary we often speak and sing about trusting the Lord’s leadership over our lives. It’s easy to do when all is well – when the family is healthy, the bills are paid, and the skies are sunny. It’s a different story when you are sitting in a basement thinking that today could be your last day in this life. So many thoughts raced through my mind:

Will recovery teams be pulling our 4 pajama-clad bodies out of here tomorrow?

We are all so young. So much more life to live. Many yet fulfilled dreams.

What if I am literally standing in the presence of God in less than an hour?

Am I ready? Really ready?

The last conversation I had with my mom 3 days ago was about how the righteous are not exempt from suffering loss during disasters. There were many godly believers who died in the Twin Towers a decade ago, the earthquake in Haiti, the tsunami in Japan, and more recently the tornadoes in Tuscaloosa and Joplin.

How does my theology fit with that?

God doesn’t fit into the box I used to put Him in. (He never did but occurrences like these bring the reality of it to the forefront.) In the past if I had been in a situation like this, I would find myself thinking “I can’t die now. I’m here in Kansas City serving the Lord. He is obligated to protect me.” But I didn’t feel that today.

Most of us think that God is unjust in letting “bad things happen to good people,” because we subconsciously believe that He owes us something.

He doesn’t owe me anything.

I can’t accuse Him of allowing my last breath to be in a tornado at 28 years of age when I didn’t deserve the first breath He gave to me. He gives life and He takes away (Job 1:21). It was His mercy that gave me life and it is His mercy that sustains me by giving me breath each day.

After an hour huddled in the bathroom, the sirens finally stopped and we realized that the storm had passed by us. Obviously, today wasn’t my last day in this life.

But one day will be my last. It may be in a tornado, in a car wreck, in my sleep, in a prison, in a hospital bed, or in the rapture - but one breath will be my last. I may be 28, 47, or 90 years old. I don’t know when that day will come but God does (Psalm 139:16).

No one who suddenly died in New York City, Haiti, or Joplin woke up that morning thinking that day would be their last. They probably had plans for the weekend. Instead, their lives were over.

We all have a final day appointed for us in this life. Then we will each stand before Almighty God who breathed life into us to answer for what we did with His Son, Jesus (Hebrews 9:27-28). Everlasting life will be given to those who followed Him and everlasting damnation for those who rejected Him (John 3:16-17).

Sometimes it takes things like tornadoes to wake us up to reality.

I am going to die.

And the same goes for you.

You are going to die.

Are you ready? Really ready?

“So teach us to number our days, that we may present to you a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12

Friend or Foe?

There’s nothing like a quiet, late-night drive. Windows down. Cool breeze sweeping across my face. Serene. Tranquil. Smelling freshly blossoming flowers in the air. Searching for stars on the horizon. Listening to crickets chirping and frogs making melodious music.

Oh, the freedom of the open road! Definitely one of my favorite things to do! But I didn’t expect what happened next.

Suddenly brightly flashing red lights and the loud sounds of a blaring horn and metal on metal filled my senses. In the distance, I could see a train roaring down its tracks.

As I came closer, I saw the giant crossbars descending in front of me. How dare they invade my peaceful, spring evening! Don’t these restrictive metal bars know that I was thoroughly enjoying my time and that I had plans – places to go and people to see?

Their intrusiveness offended me.

I didn’t want to be restricted. I wanted to do what I wanted to do!

Sitting at a halt as the train howled by, I remembered an article I had recently read of a pregnant woman, her unborn baby, and three of her younger siblings being tragically killed in a collision with a train because there was no signal or crossbars at the crossing. Images of the mangled vehicle and devastated family members at the scene of the wreck flooded my memory.

Considering that tragedy, these long red and white striped bars no longer seemed to be my enemy preventing me from getting where I wanted to go or keeping me from doing what I wanted to do. In reality, they were a beautiful hedging of safety. They were actually there for my good. Not interrupting my peaceful evening but ensuring that it remained as such.

Suddenly, I realized that these crossbars were not intruders but friends.

How foolish I would be to refuse to heed this warning that was screaming at the top of its lungs, “Danger Ahead.” It would be irrational to insist on forging ahead with my plans. How many lives have been cut short because they thought, “I can beat the train,” but didn’t?

I’ve seen these “crossbars” other places recently, as well. No, not on an open road. Not made with metal. But serving the same purpose, nonetheless.

Where?

On the pages of both the Old and New Testaments. Because God is kind, He warns us all throughout His written Word. Like the crossbars and flashing red lights, the commands of Scripture warn us of danger ahead – eternal separation from God in the Lake of Fire (Rev. 20:15).

I’ve heard more times than I can count, “Christianity is merely a list of rules.” But the same people who voice this complaint would reprimand a father who just sat back and watched his 3 year old daughter walk into the road as an 18 wheeler truck approached, saying “Oh, but I just don’t want to tell her what to do or not to do. She wants freedom, so I choose not to say anything.”

God is a good Father and wants us to be with Him for all of eternity (John 14:1-4, 17:24). That is the reason why these warnings are seen on almost every page of the Bible.

But how often we view God’s ways as too restrictive and intrusive to our plans. Our hearts say, “I wanna do what I wanna do!” It offends us that anyone – even if it’s the Creator of the Universe Who gives us every breath we breathe – would tell us how we must live our lives. In our society, it enrages people that Jesus is the only Way to God (John 3:16, 14:6).

We think that we can “beat the train,” so to speak. In other words, how close can I get to “the line” of sin without reaping any consequences? Or we assume that the day that each of us will stand before God and give an account for our lives (Romans 14:12; 1 Peter 4:5) is a long way off.

We live as if eternity is not reality!

He has given each of us the dignity to choose whether we will obey His commands or not. Along with that choice comes blessings of obedience or  consequences of refusing to heed the warnings.

There is a wide gate and broad road. Many people choose it. They perceive that there is lots of room and freedom to do what they want to do. It may feel good for a season, but notice where it leads…to death – eternally (Matthew 7:13-14).

I want to joyfully, not begrudgingly, obey the commands of Scripture, knowing that conformity to them allows me to enter the narrow gate and keeps me on the path that leads to life – both abundant life of a satisfied soul in these days and true life in the presence of God for all of eternity.

I want to cling to His ways, not offended by seeing them as restrictive intruders but thankfully viewing them as faithful friends. I truly believe that those who delight in the law of the Lord (Psalm 1:2, 119:174) are a sign and a wonder to our generation.

So, the next time that I am enjoying a peaceful, late-night drive and suddenly have to stop at a railroad crossing, instead of being frustrated that I have to heed the warnings of the crossbars, I will be reminded of a kind Father. A God Who has given me His warnings because He desires me to be with Him forever. Not because He’s a dictator, but because He is good!

Lessons in the Lingerie Department

Maybe it was the 2 cups of coffee I had just guzzled. Or possibly I was still irked from the guy who stole that prime parking spot from me. Not exactly sure where it came from. Or maybe, actually I am. All I know is what I saw in the department store that rainy January day really knew how to “push my buttons.”

It was just an ordinary “I have 30 minutes to kill before my next meeting” kind of shopping trip. So, as is my custom, I made my way to the back of the store to scope out the bargains like a Mississippi deer hunter scopes out the bucks on opening day of bow season.

But what I saw after I passed the purse and jewelry sections made my stomach turn. Most would say it is just a “marketing ploy” for Valentine’s Day, but I saw it as much more. I could feel my blood pressure rising because I knew the message that was being “sold” has robbed so much dignity from and deceived so many in my generation.

Right at the front of the lingerie section (don’t stop reading, people of the male species, I promise this will stay G-rated) was a huge sign boasting that one word. Probably one of the most powerful, most abused, and most misused words in the English language.

That word was?

Drum roll, please.

You guessed it – “LOVE”

Now, I am not a hater. I have never worn black or initiated a protest rally on February 14th.  In fact, I’m a big fan of love. But what repulsed me that day was the fact that very skimpy, provocative lingerie surrounded this word. What would any red-blooded girl or guy equate from this advertisement?

Sex = Love

Of course, sex is a beautiful expression of love within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman. But let’s be honest, we live in a sex-crazed society. And the word “love” has been so cheapened that few in our generation have a clue what love really looks like.

There is a Chinese proverb that teaches, ”A cheap price is a short cut to being cheated.”

Yep, cheated!

If we don’t know what real love is, then we are well on our way to being cheated from truly experiencing it by both the giving and receiving of love.

Cheap Love?

Now that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one!

Cheap – adjective
1. Costing very little effort, labor, or trouble
2. Purchasable below the real value
3. Of inferior quality or worth
4. Of decreased purchasing power
5. Depreciated in value

And, no offense to Merriam Webster, but love is so much more than:
1. strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties
2. attraction based on sexual desire
3. affection and tenderness felt by lovers
4. affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests
5. warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion
6. the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration
7. a term of endearment

We live in a one-night-stand, throw away culture. Divorce is rampant – even in the church. Think how often you’ve heard the phrase “Love ‘em and Leave ‘em.” This simply can’t be accurate. Because true love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Real love never fails (1 Corinthians 13).

As I write this blog, I’m in a pizza joint and blaring on the speakers is “Can’t Buy Me Love” by The Beatles. How ironic! Yes, I’m a self-confessed hopeless romantic but the longer I live, the more I see what real love is – and is not. Love is not merely a dozen roses, candlelit dinners or sweet nothings whispered into the ear of the beloved. Love is so much more.

Love is not about what you can get to satisfy your desires as much as it is about what you can give to meet the needs of another.

Real love is very costly!

True love is expressed in the servanthood of a husband of 40 years who quits his job and selflessly cares for his wife, who is paralyzed and can’t speak because she is suffering from a terminal disease.

True love is a couple who chooses to adopt 11 kids that have been in “the system” for years because no one else wanted these handicapped children.

True love is a family who sells their house in the suburbs and moves to the inner-city so they can daily serve the homeless, prostitutes, and drug addicts.

True love is a King willingly leaving the glory of heaven to be born as a baby in a lowly stable.

True love is a Bridegroom laying down His life on a cruel cross to purchase His Bride.

For the One Whose name and nature is Love, the expression of such was a great sacrifice.

The Beatles had something right. You can’t buy love with money or diamond rings. And, as I recall from that rainy January shopping trip, the full expression of love will never be found in the lingerie department.

You were made for love.
You were made to love and be loved.

But don’t be deceived into thinking it’s cheap.
True love will cost you everything.

Wasted

I’m wasting my life.

You’re wasting your life.

Join the club!

We are all wasting our lives…on something.

Spending time. Spending energy. Spending affection.

As sands through the hourglass.

With every tick-tick-tick of the clock.

With every day marked through the calender.

You are Expending…and Expiring.

Some seek fame. Others wealth. Still others success.

Happiness is the pursuit of all.

I’m just like you. I’m wasting my life.

But not on something. On Someone.

Why?

Because of the value of the Treasure I am seeking.

He is of far greater worth than anything else vying for my devotion.

The Prize of this race I’m running.

My Exceedingly Great Reward.

My joy is found in Him.

And His joy is found in me.

Gladly, I will waste my life for when I see Him face to face,

wisdom will be justified.

As I kneel at His nail-scarred feet,

I will be assured that He was worth it…

and it was really no waste at all.

“People who do not know the Lord ask why in the world we waste our lives as missionaries. They forget that they too are expending their lives … and when the bubble has burst, they will have nothing of eternal significance to show for the years they have wasted.” – Nate Saint (martyred by Auca Indians in Ecuador)

“While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Matthew 26:6-13