Come To Me (What did Jesus Mean by these Words?)

Over two months ago, August 12th, while preparing for the day, I was overwhelmed by all the tasks needing completion within the next three days. Consequently, I found myself crying out to God--Lord help me!

Moments later, before getting dressed, I glanced at my phone and saw it--a missed call from my sister at 7:00 A.M.? Sis rarely called except to discuss Mom's heath or issues concerning the nursing home that had been Mom's home for the last year.

When I returned her call, Kenny, my brother-in-law, answered. I was expecting to hear Mom was ill--not that she had passed away in her sleep. I quickly donned my clothes and headed to the nursing home. I had anticipated (off and on) such a call for the last several months--but not today.

Several months ago I had reflected on who would conduct Mom's funeral when the time came. I came to the stark conclusion that no one knew Mom better than me. In addition, I knew she wanted me to do it; of course, she wouldn't ask, not wanting to lay such a heavy burden on me.

While traveling to the nursing home, thoughts flooded my mind--would my siblings have a problem with me conducing the funeral, what Bible passage would I use, how could I find the time with all the other obligations facing me? I guess, out of frustration, I cried out to God, "So this is the help I get--my mom dies."

I then found myself waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Just a few minutes earlier I heard a ding alerting me of a text message on my phone, so I checked it. I was expecting something from one of my brothers, not from my son's baseball coach at Grace Baptist. It was the coach's daily text message with a Bible verse for the day (something he began doing several months ago). He was faithful to send one out to players and parents every morning. But this morning was different. These verses were meant for me. They rescued me. They reassured me. They reconnected me. They were the words of Matthew 11:28-30ESV. Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Exactly what I needed--rest for my soul! They reminded me of who's in charge. They reminded me that I have an all-powerful, all-sufficient Savior. They reminded me that I have a helper at my side. They reminded me that I can do all things through him who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13ESV).

All I had to do was come to Him, to focus on Him, to look to Him, and trust in Him. Sadly, the busyness of life can squeeze itself in between us and God. Don't let it! Go to Him when life turns your life upside down. Reflect on His Words. Only in Jesus can we can find the peace of God, a peace that defies rational explanation. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world (John 16:33ESV).

The Power of Words

King Solomon once said, Death and life are in the power of the tongue (Proverbs 18:21ESV).

In the tongue and in the pen, we have the power to create or destroy. The real power, however, actually lies in the words created by them. We are made in the image of God, which means we have the ability to think, love, and--with our words--create. 

With hands, we can construct tools, machines, vehicles, and buildings out of the materials of this world, but with our words we can create something out of nothing. We can create good or evil. We can deceive or enlighten, form good or bad images of others, and give life or produce death and destruction. Our social environments are shaped by our words, whether it be hostile or hospitable. Wars are started by words and peace is established by words. With words Jesus raised the dead and with words King Herrod ordered the death of John the Baptist. With our words good marriages can be destroyed, dead marriages can be resurrected, and love can be restored. 

It is no wonder that Jesus said in Matthew 12:36-37ESV, I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, ³⁷ for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned. 

What you say or write matters, so think long, think hard, and be sure of your words, for in your words reside the power of life and death. Those who speak or write out of ignorance, put others in peril. In Thomas Gray's poem, “Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College” (1742) he writes, Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise. But in most cases, ignorance is not bliss, for what you don't know can hurt you, and when you share your ignorance, it can hurt others. 

I was once a fan of Dear Abby years ago, but I now rarely read her column. I stopped reading her column for health reasons, it often caused my blood pressure to rise to an unsafe level. Her misinformation, or ignorance about so much, and the fact that she is read by so many, has no doubt directed many down dark and deadly alleys filled with ignorance and littered with misinformation, resulting in a cesspool of relationship carnage and moral wreckage. 

Despite my feelings, I recently gave in to temptation, and read her column. Maybe it was the word love. It could have been the word marriage. I'm not really sure what it was, but her article caught my attention, and consequently, I found myself reading it. 

While not all her advice is bad, sadly, much of it is, especially that which is birthed from the common, easy, self-indulgent, appeasement kind of philosophies that fill our social consciousness these days. The Bible warns us about the desires of the flesh. They are evil. Thus,  when counselors placate us, giving us permission to travel down our desired path, which is nothing more than a self-paved road of least resistance, it is often destructive to us and to many others along the way. 

In my position as pastor I often counsel couples having relationship problems. I don't do it for money. I do it because I love people. I do it because I love God. I do it because I know the pain and injury that a divorce or a miserable marriage can produce in couples and their children. Consequently, I choose my words of counsel carefully. People matter. Relationships matter. Our words matter. 

The Dear Abby article I read, gave some less-than-thoughtful advice to a man looking for support for his decision to divorce his wife. Her advice broke my heart and raised my blood pressure. The reader asked Dear Abby, Is it possible that people can just fall out of love with each other? The reader tells her that he's in a loveless marriage that has lasted twenty-one years and produced three children. He acknowledges that he and his wife no longer communicate and have little desire to be with one another. He shares that the reason for their present state was that they had pretty much neglected each other emotionally and physically. He further adds that they have not sought a marriage counselor because I just don't love my wife anymore, and I'm not saying this to be mean. It's just how I feel.

Her advice was a simple, neatly packaged thirty-seven word snippet that tells the reader to do what he already desires to do -- If you and your wife agree that there is nothing left for either of you, and marriage counseling won't fix the dysfunction in your relationship, then the logical next step would be an amicable separation or divorce. 

Her answer was most likely shaped by her lack of space, her lack of knowledge, and possibly by her acceptance of society's cure-all for troubled marriages--divorce. This much is certain, she has no business aiding in the demise of a marriage and the breakup of a family based on so little information from only one of the parties involved.  

She needs to restrict her advice to lesser, non-life changing, and future rearranging topics. Short columns are not suitable for addressing deep emotional needs, hurts, or confusion. Advice about whether to send written or email wedding invitations is one thing, but advice about how and when to dump your spouse, dissolve your marriage, and breakup your family is in a whole other category, one that should be left to marriage counselors or relationship therapists.

A truth that was missing in her advice is that marriages are not doomed by a lack of love, but rather by incorrect thinking about love. Most often it's our thinking that needs changing, not our marriage status. Just because the reader and his wife think there's nothing left for either of them in their marriage or that marriage counseling would not help, doesn't make it true. Emotions blind us to the truth. They often lie to us. This is why an outsider, someone unbiased, someone disconnected from the relationship--a marriage counselor--is needed to assist couples in obtaining a right and proper perspective about their marriages.

While we all have certain needs, both in and outside of our marriage, what we must guard against is applying incorrect thinking in our effort to meet our needs. It's very easy to slip into a totally or largely self-focused mindset, in which our life is completely wrapped up in the way we feel, and what we want at that particular moment. For instance, if our love life is unfulfilling, we begin searching for the solution. The social climate, which permeates Hollywood, the media, and the workplace, provides the obvious solution--the path most traveled--divorce. Divorce is portrayed as the cure-all for an unhappy marriage or unfulfilled life of a married person. At the same time, the social climate discounts or considers non-relevant such factors as the joys and special memories of the past, the children involved, financial consequences, relationships with in-laws, friends and extended family members. A counselor, not a columnist, can help clear our thinking and enable us to see the big picture. 

We live in a society. We are relational creatures. We are our brother's and sister's keeper. Unfortunately, this incorrect or wrong thinking about love and marriage often occurs when we lose perspective and see life as being all about us (sadly much of society sees wrong thinking as  right thinking).  

The lack of love in this marriage and in most other troubled marriages is not the main problem; the main problem is misconceptions about love. Love is a feeling that is created by actions. Contrary to modern folklore, there's no such thing as falling in or out of love. Plants don't just grow or die for no reason and neither does our love for someone. The reader recognized what caused the death of their love, but has chosen not to do anything about it, other than seek to dissolve the marriage. (Then again, he may not know what else to do, other than get a divorce).The problem, as he said himself, is that they had neglected their marriage. His biggest problem is his failure to apply critical thinking to his marriage, specifically the love issue. 

When I neglect my plant, its leaves wilt and its blooms droop. 

But if I begin watering it and fertilizing it, the almost dead, ugly plant suddenly springs back to life. Of course, I have to choose (love must be a choice first, and a feeling second) to love the plant enough to care for it and nurse it back to health.

If I neglect it long enough, the plant will die. But even should this happen, all is not lost. I still have two choices. I can either remove the pot (which represents our spouse) from my presence, or reseed the pot and grow a new plant (which represents our love). If in a marriage, the love has died, it can be reseeded, watered, given the warm of unconditional affection, and over time, new love spouts and rises from the ashes of the old love. The big difference between choosing a divorce or choosing to resurrect new love in a marriage is the lack of collateral damage. By resurrecting love, we and our children are spared the pain and injury of a divorce, finances are not adversely affected, society benefits, and God is glorified. 

Love is a always a choice and in more than one way. First, we see someone we're attracted to, so  we choose to approach them with words and actions we hope will convince them to go out with us. During our dates we choose to say things and perform actions we hope will appeal to them and please them. As a result, love flourishes and with this love comes a desire to do more pleasing and desirable things for them.

Second, during some part of the marriage what is known as love-fade happens. In the course of running the rat race and raising little rascals we often forget to water and nurture our love for one another. Our love fades or dies because we have stopped doing many of the things that promotes love growth, and then, as the fade increases, we choose to stop all acts of love, and may even choose to spray words and actions that kill what feelings still exist. 

Third, and most important of all, when the love has faded, or even died, we still have a choice. We can choose to revive or resurrect the love. In this case, our acts of love must come from a conscious, determined choice. We must choose to do what is needed, not because we are motivated by feelings, but because we want those feelings back, and the key to getting them back is actions -- loving actions, conscious actions. These acts are like love seeds placed in the life of our spouse, and watered and nurture by loving words and kind actions. 

In essence, we must go back to the beginning. We must re-date our spouse. Dating all over again can be a scary thing after being married for many years, but when you're doing it with the person who was once the love of your life, and can be again, it's not scary at all. 

A better answer for the man in the loveless marriage would be to give him words of hope. He and his wife need hope. When hope dies, we give up. When couples are given hope and help, they often make the right choices. They choose to change their words and their actions in order to resurrect their love.  

Resurrecting love is difficult, but not impossible. To resurrect the love of the past, one need only to have hope that it can occur, and a willingness to choose the path that produced it the first time around. And once it comes back, be sure to choose not to neglect it.

God's Helping Hands

The sound of a car stopping and four doors slamming would not normally set my heart racing and my stomach churning, but nothing was normal about this day. It began by attending my cousin-in-law's funeral in Louisville. He was a hemophiliac who had contracted AIDS through a blood transfusion. His death was tragic, but after years of illness, not unexpected. What occurred on the way back from the funeral, however, was unexpected. We were several miles from the nearest town, traveling on Interstate 65 when my dad's car overheated and died. We coasted off the interstate and onto the wide shoulder.

             
The heat index that day was well over a hundred degrees, and my mom was in bad health. What was I to do? We needed help. We needed a good Samaritan. Unfortunately, prior to cell phones, stranded motorists were at the mercy of other motorists. All I could do was pray, wave, and hope someone would stop. After several minutes of cars zipping past me with my arms waving back and forth, a pickup truck slowed and pulled off the interstate. One man in a truck became our knight in shining armor. 

We may not live in the days of kings, castles, and knights; but there are still days when damsels are in distress and families are in need. It can happen at any time, at any place, to anyone. While we may not know when, we do know that sooner or later it will happen.  And for us, we soon discovered it could happen twice in one day.

             
Stranded along I-65 on that hot summer day, I saw both the good and bad. I saw hands intent on hurting and hands that helped out greatly. When it comes to helping hands, skin color, nationality, and religious preference are non-factors; what matters is the help they give. 

The man and his truck provided the first set of helping hands that day. To the world his truck was just an old rusty farm truck, but to us, it was beautiful. It was our chariot of hope.  Unfortunately, it couldn't seat us all, so I volunteered to go into town and call a friend for help. I was gone just long enough to find a phone and for my mom to find her panic button. She'd seen too many movies of weirdos and perverts cruising the roads in search of their next victim. All mothers are protective of their children, but not all have problems with paranoia. She was certain I would never return.

           
It didn't dawn on me that my ride with this stranger would trigger a series of events that would require more than his assistance; it would require many hands, including one very special pair of hands--life saving hands. 

The event wouldn't make the nightly news, but it would be news worthy. The main character wouldn't be offered a contract or asked to appear on a radio talk show, but he would become the hero of one family who will be forever in his debt. 

With the series of events about to unfold, I made my phone call and then returned to my family. My arrival brought an end to my mother's nightmares of my dead mutilated body being dumped into some ditch along I-65. Although her fears were now seen to be unfounded, the effects of her emotional tsunami would soon wash up with almost deadly results.

    
The gentleman with the truck kindly offered to take my parents to a nearby restaurant and out of the heat. In order to convince my mother to go, I reassured her that I'd be okay. I pointed to all the traffic whizzing by and how they provided security, for no one would pose a threat to me with all the potential witnesses traveling past me. Finally, after promising no more rides with strangers, she agreed to go. I waved as they pulled onto the interstate and then contemplated what to do next. I knew I had at least a two hour wait until our friend would be arriving.

With the hot sun bearing down on me, I found a large rock to sit on. The rock was secluded among some high weeds beside the interstate. There was no breeze, just high humidity.  Besides an occasional swipe with my handkerchief to remove the sweat from  my face, I sat motionless with a book in my hands.  As usual, I became fixated on its words.  The sound of the vehicles whizzing by faded into silence as the story and people of the book came alive to me. But just like being awakened from a sound sleep and a pleasurable dream, I was brought back to reality when the sound of a car stopping penetrated my consciousness. 

The next sound sent chills up my spine, the sound of four car doors slamming. At that moment, the reassurance I had given my mom wasn't reassuring me. With my heart racing, I slowly stood to my feet. Fear gripped me and uncertainty consumed me as I saw four men heading toward my dad's car. One was carrying what looked like a lug wrench. My mind began racing. It was obvious they were not from the Triple A Auto Club. I've seen the end results of a car left along the interstate. Anything and everything of value is usually taken with no concern for the amount of damage inflicted. The four men were focused on helping themselves to whatever they could take. They carried with them uncaring hands. Theirs were hurting hands. Theirs were opportunistic hands. 

Would they view me as a threat to their potential bounty, a threat that needed to be removed? What I had told my mom, I truly believed. I quickly moved out of the weeds into full view of them and the passing motorists, which I viewed as my safety net. Despite being outnumbered 4-1, I felt I had more on my side than they did on theirs. I believe there's enough good in people of all races and nationalities traveling our highways and living among us that, in time of need, they will come to our aid. Not only do I believe this, I feel certain those who would harm us also believe it, at least, I hope they do. As for these four guys, I could not believe they would try anything in full view of the motorists, and I was right. When they saw me rise from the weeds and step out into full view. They didn't hesitate, they quickly turned, and rushed back to their car and sped off.  

With my heart rate returning to normal, I went back to my rocky seat and continued reading and waiting. Within an hour another car stopped, but on the other side of the interstate. A lone stranger came walking across the lanes of traffic. Although one man didn't pose the threat of four, for precautionary measures, my adrenal gland kicked into action. I was ready for fight or flight.

    
As he approached, he asked if my name was Eddie. I had never seen this man before. How did he know me? When I answered in the affirmative, he said he was from Canada. The words "from Canada" blew me away. How could someone from Canada know my name? How could he know I was stranded at this spot?

I was confused. I was in verbal shock. He then quickly stated his purpose. He had been eating at the restaurant where my parents were when Mom became seriously ill. He said that while the ambulance workers were preparing my mom for transport, he asked my dad if there was anything he could do.  Dad asked him to come and let me know what was happening and to inform me they'd be at the hospital.

His offer to drive me to the hospital created a conflict. I wanted to be with my parents, but I'd seen the danger of leaving the car unattended. I also had no way of contacting our friend who was coming for the car. I said to the good Samaritan, "I don't know what to do." He replied, "I need to drive on down to find a turnaround spot, so when I come back by I'll stop and check with you. This will give you time to think." As he pulled away, I examined the facts. All I could do for Dad was provide moral support, and Mom would be in the care of the doctors and nurses.  My presence, however, could and had already provided physical protection for my dad's car. There was also one more factor. I had faith in some heavenly hands. The book I was reading while sitting on that rock was the Bible. The passage I was reading was Psalm 46. It begins with these words, ^"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. ² Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, ³ though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah"

Faith in God can enable us to have peace in trying times, but only if the God you have faith in is sovereign. This passage, among many others, stresses the sovereignty of God: God is in total control of everything, despite what my surroundings and circumstances may tell me. When circumstances shout that God is either not good or not in control, I can deliberately choose to trust in God's power and sovereignty. When I do, I experience the peace of God. 

What we see at any one particular moment is never the whole picture. My understanding of God caused a wave of faith to rise up within me, washing away my fears. My decision was now an easy one. I would stay and watch over Dad's car until our friend showed up.

When the Canadian returned, I told him my decision and thanked him for his help. I then returned to my rock among the weeds and resumed my waiting and reading. Within an hour or so, my friend showed up. We loaded the car onto his truck and headed to the hospital. The timing was perfect. As we pulled up under the porch-like entrance to the hospital, my dad and mom emerged. She had just been released.

It was only after talking to my parents that I learned the whole story. The man from Canada thought my mom had experienced an asthma attack, but she had actually choked on a piece of meat. (People with an already narrowing of the esophagus find that during  a time of high emotions, this restrictive tendency becomes more prominent.)  Nothing could be more emotional than imagining your son being murdered by a stranger along I-65.

If not for the quick action of a cook at that restaurant, my mom would have died. He came to her rescue, quickly using the Heimlich maneuver on her. By the time he had dislodged the meat in her windpipe, her color had turned purple and she had virtually lost consciousness.

Our hands can be helping hands or hurting hands. The opportunities are all around us. We can impact families. We can impact society. We can impact the world. But we can only do it if we determine in our hearts to make our hands helping hands for all people. We must rise above petty judgmentalism. We must soar above party politics. We must break away from herd mentalities. We must look beyond the skin tone,  character flaws, and bad choices people make, and see only their needs and their humanness. 

           
When the cook came out of the kitchen, he didn't see a white, black, red, or yellow woman; he saw a needy woman. He saw a dying woman. When the EMTs arrived, they didn't see color; they saw a medical emergency. They saw a woman in need.

           
For our family on that day, the most important set of helping hands was those of a poorly paid, seemingly insignificant cook at a restaurant in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. His hands did more than save a woman's life. He saved my mom's life. He saved my dad's wife. He saved my aunt's sister. He saved my nephews' and niece's grandma.

We are not islands unto ourselves. The importance of each life is woven throughout the fabric of those we call family, relatives, friends, co-workers, and neighbors.  What we do for one, we do for many. I give thanks for the many who gave aid on that hot summer day. We may not have money, power, or resources we can share with others, but we do have the one thing that matters most--love. We can love others by sharing ourselves, our time, our energy.  We can use our hands to lift the fallen, care for the dying, and help heal the sick.  I give thanks for the foreign hands from Canada, the elderly hands that provided transportation, the greasy hands of the cook who saved my mom's life, the trained hands of the EMTs who treated Mom and transported her to the hospital, the hospital staff's hands who treated her, and the hands of a friend who drove over one hundred miles to get us.   

No matter how long we live, it will be too short---too short to waste the opportunities that come our way. We can make a difference in our neighbors, our community, and our world. We can be instrumental in bridging the economic, racial, and religious chasms that divide us.

That day opened my eyes to the needs around us. I now try to stay alert to my environment. If we stay alert, it won't be long before the needs of others and our opportunities collide right in front of us. When it does, will you let God use your hands to make a difference in someone's life?

The Supreme Court Injured Me

Today I suffered an injury at the hands, well maybe not hands, of the Supreme Court of the United States. I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but intentionality is not the issue. My pain is the issue. My injury makes me a victim and the Supreme Court the perpetrator. 

It happened today while my family and I was visiting the Supreme Court. The building itself fits the idea of supreme. Its beauty is something to behold. Its size is massive. The white-marble it's constructed of makes it almost blinding in the bright sun. But what struck me the most about the Supreme Court is not the building it meets in, but the power it welds. The Supreme Court, more than any other branch of government, shapes and determines the future of our nation. It holds the power of life and death for the young and old, and for the nation as a whole.

Power acts as a two-edged sword. In the hands of the just, the wise, and the righteous, it does much good, provides much help, and brings about great blessings. But power knows no boundaries. In the hands of the unwise, or the unjust, it can produce suffering, pain, and death.

As we waited to enter the Supreme Court, it dawned on me that the most powerful weapon the world has ever employed against mankind, the hydrogen bomb, pales in comparison to the power of the U. S. Supreme Court. The bomb dropped on Hiroshima was responsible for the deaths of at least 150,000 people. The U.S. Supreme Court may not have access to weapons such as bombs and missiles, but its power to help or hurt is unprecedented. Throughout its history, it has made many decisions, both good and bad. It presently averages 80 decisions per year. The effects of its decisions may be narrow in scope or wide-ranging.  

The injury it inflicted on me was minor. I needed no medical treatment and suffered no psychological harm. No one laid a hand on me and no decision was handed down concerning me. The crime of the Supreme Court was that its bright, white marble steps combined with a bright sunny day created an almost blinding light to the eyes of those coming out of the somewhat muted internal light within the building. Consequently, I found myself closing one eye, holding my right hand so as to shade my eyes as best I could, while squinting my other eye to a large degree to filter out as much light as possible. Unfortunately, my actions distorted my vision, causing me to miss the last step and sending me sprawling face down at the base of the marble steps. 

With my dignity damaged more than my body (but don't tell my knees that), I quickly jumped up. Steps can cause injury when missed, and my skinned knees provide the proof of it. My skinned knees and sore hand, however, doesn't compare to the tragedy that occurs when a bad decision is handed down by the court.  

The code name of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima was "Little Boy." The decision handed down by the U.S. Supreme Court on January 22, 1973, affected millions of little boys and girls. On this date, the U.S. Supreme Court, in a 7-2 decision, affirmed the legality of a woman's right to have an abortion under the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution. 

The aftermath of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima pales in comparison to the horrific results of this decision. As of January 21, 2015, 42 years after the court's decision, there had been 57,762,169 abortions. 

How ironic that the 14th Amendment that "forbids states from denying any person 'life, liberty  or property, without due process of law,'" was used to okay taking away the right to life and liberty for millions of babies." 

The destructive force of the Roe vs. Wade decision was 385 times greater than that of the nuclear bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Today many denounce the bombing of Hiroshima calling it immoral, yet they fully support the killing of millions of babies every year. May God help them to see the contradictory positions they hold.

The Supreme Court justices are supposed to make decisions based on the U.S. Constitution, but history has repeatedly shown that for many justices, the Constitution must take a back seat to culture. When the nation's culture shifts to oppose the dictates of the Constitution, the justices find their interpretations being shaped by the culture more than the words of the U.S. Constitution. 

One cannot but wonder, is the political chaos that is presently occurring in our nation the spiritual result of over 40 years of genocide? Is this part of God's judgment on America? Only God knows.

What I do know is that my knees will heal, but the aborted babies will not. I pray for a spiritual revival in our nation that will bring about a renewed appreciation for life -- all life -- including the fragile lives of the unborn. I pray for the well being of the Supreme Court Justices and for righteous decisions in their deliberations. I pray for all the women who find themselves with unwanted pregnancies. I pray that they will make the right decision, a decision for life, not death. And I pray for the future of our nation.