It was a lazy summer and the planned kayak trip, with my Uncle Bill, cousin Anna, and two siblings was enough to fill me with excited anticipation of simply DOING something. I had been so bored I probably would have been happy with a trip to the kiddy park. I smiled to myself as the van rolled over the winding back roads of Pennsylvania. It had taken forever to actually get on the road, but that was no surprise. Uncle Bill always had to do lots of things before he ever actually got around to doing something.
We finally arrived at the Swatara Creek and proceeded to fill the inflatable kayaks before placing them in the water. We then set out on our excursion with merry spirits and cheerful smiles. I paddled along slowly; enjoying the beautiful day and the conversation with my cousin. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched my siblings John and Rachel pass by in their inflatable kayak. They had the two-person kayak while the rest of us had managed to get the single ones by fighting for them with tooth and nail. Their double kayak had a tiny hole in it and was little by little losing its air. This caused it to be half sunk in the water where John was sitting. Rachel weighed hardly anything and so her end was way up in the water. To make it even worse the double kayak was supposed to have seats but Uncle Bill had forgotten to bring them. Therefore they were sitting even lower in their kayak. It looked so funny. While my cousin and I were chuckling over their situation, we continued to drift on down the creek.
As I lay back in my kayak, reveling in the fact that I had won the battle for it, I listened to the sounds around me. A bird tweeted noisily, a duck honked from father down the creek, and my cousin called off to the right announcing some turtles she had discovered. I lifted my head, warm from the sun, and saw a slight rapid area up ahead. The sight of it caused me to sit up all the way. I grabbed my paddle and gazed at the little white caps of water, trying to determine the best possible route to go through without getting grounded on rocks. Up ahead, Uncle Bill was the first to go. He glided right between two big rocks. I dragged my paddle, trying to go slowly, but the current grabbed my kayak and swept it along. I snagged for a moment on the right rock but as soon I shifted my weight, it lifted and flowed toward my waiting Uncle.
As soon as the others caught up we beached our kayaks and broke for lunch. We climbed up on the rocky bank. Down by the water the ground was made up of large boulders; perfect for sitting on. Farther up the bank the boulders gave way to earth and it was full of blue wildflowers and thick trees that provided a cool shade. I passed out the lunch, John prayed, and we dug in. Food always tastes ten times better when you’ve been working hard out in the fresh air. In the shade of the trees we all relaxed and enjoyed the peacefulness surrounding us. I glanced at John to find he had already downed his sandwich and was scrounging around for another one. He also held an empty banana peel in his hand which he seemed to be trying to decide what to do with. After a moment of deliberation he simply tossed it up on the bank above us. Anna’s mouth dropped a mile long. “You’re littering!” She screeched. John shrugged. “It will eventually disintegrate.” He explained himself and Anna seemed satisfied with his answer. We finished our meal, packed up and once again returned to the kayaks.
The rest of the afternoon flew by as we raced each other, climbed in and out of our kayaks to drag them over the low areas, fell on the rocks, talked and laughed. The time came for us to reluctantly end our afternoon, so we deflated the rafts (John and Rachel didn't have to do too much at this point ;) and then headed home. We all were muddy, wet, and tired and Uncle Bill had a rip on the seat of his pants. But we had had fun.
We talked about our afternoon for the first few minutes of the ride but before long we lapsed into silence as the motion of the van began to lull some of us to sleep. I was almost completely out when I heard Anna ask “WHAT are we doing?” I peeked open an eye and watched as Uncle Bill pulled the van into the GIANT parking lot and parked the car. “I need to pick up a few things” He said, before turning off the ignition and hopping out. I glanced at my cousin and siblings and raised an eyebrow. I only received clueless looks and shrugs in return. Uncle Bill smiled and waved a hand. “Come on, everyone out!” I clambered out, followed by the others. I looked at them and wondered if I looked as horrible as they did right now. With hair that was still wet and had pieces of mud in it, shoes/sandals that squeaked as we walked across the parking lot, cheeks that were sunburned and chapped and wearing clothes that had seen better days, we certainly didn’t look like we were trying to make a good impression on anybody. I was just praying that we didn’t run into anybody I knew.
As we headed into the store Uncle Bill looked back at his rip, craning his head to try and see it. “Is it really bad?” He asked. Anna nodded. Something needed to be done. Our family name was at stake. “Here! Wrap this around your waist!” I offered as I took off the sweater of Rachel’s that I had been wearing. It was too small for me anyway. Uncle Bill accepted it and proceeded to secure it around his waist by tying the two sleeves together. They barely made the knot. Anna and I burst out laughing. The small sweater hardly did much to cover the pants, and made my uncle look like he was trying to be Tarzan. The hole however was at least covered, and satisfied with that fact, Uncle Bill proceeded to lead our little party into the store, the sweater flapping crazily behind him.
We followed our Uncle around the store, as if he were the Pied Piper. We couldn’t contain our laughter every time we so much as glanced at our preacher uncle turned Tarzan. As we headed down the aisles, we made quite the racket with our squeaky sandals and Uncle Bill making comments about his nicely painted toenails. Upon this comment of his, we all stopped to examine his feet and discovered that each of his individual toenails were covered with mud, turning them a nice chunky brown color. Why do people pay such bug bucks to have their nails done when such a luxury is available to them at the creek!
I couldn’t imagine what other people thought of us as my Uncle Bill led us up and down the aisles in search of something. Finally he discovered what he had come, and dragged all of us in here with him, for.
The candy aisle.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Resolutions and Reminders
Today I was reminded of the verses I resolved to carry with me throughout this year...its amazing how quickly I forget!
"I will go in the strength of the Lord GOD:"....but...."O Lord God...forsake me not when my strength faileth."
"I will go in the strength of the Lord GOD:"....but...."O Lord God...forsake me not when my strength faileth."
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Family, etc.
I love this pic. Grandma is such a godly woman; the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman and a true prayer warrior. It would be an accomplishment to be half the woman she is. 
4 Generations
Luke leaves for the submarine soon...wish I could have enjoyed that cake with the family in S.C.
This is just to make me smile every time I see it. =)
4 GenerationsLuke leaves for the submarine soon...wish I could have enjoyed that cake with the family in S.C.
This is just to make me smile every time I see it. =)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
A Battle Wound of Glory
I'm not really the type of person who is constantly in the doctor’s office because of the latest cut or break. To be honest, (except when I was eleven and had a kidney stone) I don't think I've ever had to go to the doctors for too much more than the yearly appointments and the occasional cold that wouldn't go away.
It’s not necessarily that I haven't done things that would merit such a doctors visit. I'm an adventuresome person. My eight brothers and I have had plenty an escapade that should have ended in complete disaster, but somehow, for one reason or another, I wasn't ever the one to suffer a physical lay-back. In a way, this was sort of disappointing as a kid. All of my other siblings had scars to show other people and the stories to go along with them. In a way it was like their battle wound of glory; some hardship they had gone through and come out victorious. I, however, had no such story to tell.
The only thing I could boast about was the tiny scar on my forehead. You can hardly see it and whenever I mention it, the person looking for it has to really search before they find it. Still, it is my only mark of pride and the only story to which I can claim my fame.
It all happened on a hot summer day...
...My brothers and I were anxious to get outside. We had finally finished our chores for the day and were free to have our fun. However after a few minutes out in the hot, muggy air, we no longer felt like doing much of anything. It was one of those days where you feel like playing baseball, building a fort, climbing trees, catching frogs or playing cops and robbers, but it's just so hot out that you really can’t seem to find the energy to do any of the things you feel like doing.
The only thing that sounded halfway feasible to us was a ride on our scooter. Perhaps the thought that the downhill scooter ride might stir the air around us and somehow cool us off, was a part of this decision making process. Our old house was situated at the bottom of a hill that, for a seven and eleven year old, seemed quite large and scary when it came to rollerblading or riding down it. Jesse and I decided that this would be the plan of action for our day and went in search of the scooter. We found it in the barn with two flat tires. (It was one of those old scooters that had big rubber tires.) However, not undaunted by this fact, we lugged the scooter outside and up to the top of the hill. Next, we positioned ourselves onto it in a way that we could both hold on to the handles. I was in the front, holding onto to the middle, and Jesse stood behind me, with his arms crossing over me in order to grab the handlebar on either side of my hands.
With a push of his foot on the pavement, Jesse got us rolling. We went flying down the hill, the rubber tires squishing with a weird sound, and us screaming as we went. As we headed down the hill I was jerking the handle to the right or left and Jesse was doing the same. This caused us to tilt and wiggle crazily; which in our opinion made it all the more fun. We arrived safely at the bottom of the hill and repeated the downhill runs several more times before the tragedy occurred.
We were heading down the hill again, jerking crazily and having the time of our lives. The jerking was getting somewhat out of control because we had gotten a little bit more invigorated and daring with each run. In between gulps of air, I was laughing and wind tears were blurring my vision. We were going so fast that when we got to the bottom of the hill, instead of stopping at the end of the driveway, we kept going into our yard. We were pumped about this and Jesse suddenly gave an extra hard jerk to the right, causing me to lose my grip. We careened wildly to the right and were still going at a pretty good speed when we hit the brick. It was just a small, normal sized brick, but it was enough to stop the flat- tired scooter and to send both Jesse and I lurching forward.
My head banged hard against the handlebar and Jesse bumped into me from behind. Both the scooter and its cargo tilted to the left, before crashing to the ground leaving a tangle of arms, legs and metal in a haphazard heap. Jesse and I managed to get ourselves untangled and moved apart from each other in order to inspect ourselves. My head felt slightly warm, but other than that I felt ok. My arms had a few scratches but nothing to comment about. I bent to inspect my legs and in so doing, glanced down at my shoes.
That’s when I saw it; a bright red spot on the canvas of my favorite shoes. It was just a small drop of blood, but it was enough to send me bursting into tears. My forehead had a slight cut in it that probably wasn't even an eighth of an inch long and not much deeper, and some of it had dripped onto my shoe. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but somehow, to a seven year old, the sight of blood always makes things ten times worse.
However, after a pretty quick entrance into the house where a little bit of love and attention was administered, my grief was pretty much gone. The wound healed rather quickly leaving me with just a tiny mark of a scar.
Not much to really boast about, but it was better than nothing….
...So, there you have it. That’s my story. No, it really isn't much of a story compared to Josh's broken arm, Luke’s skin graft, Johns glass cut that almost left him crippled or Rachel’s infected scar that has left her with a deep indent on her right leg.
My story doesn’t all have all the glamour or bravery involved in their stories. But somehow, as I've grown older, I've learned to appreciate the fact that I'm not severely scarred by wounds. Such things aren't on as high of a demand as they seemed to be when I was younger. Come to think of it, I don't think it was really all that glorious when I was young either. I distinctly remember coming out of the house and feeling extremely saddened at the fact that my favorite pair of canvas shoes would be forever marked with that spot of blood.
It’s not necessarily that I haven't done things that would merit such a doctors visit. I'm an adventuresome person. My eight brothers and I have had plenty an escapade that should have ended in complete disaster, but somehow, for one reason or another, I wasn't ever the one to suffer a physical lay-back. In a way, this was sort of disappointing as a kid. All of my other siblings had scars to show other people and the stories to go along with them. In a way it was like their battle wound of glory; some hardship they had gone through and come out victorious. I, however, had no such story to tell.
The only thing I could boast about was the tiny scar on my forehead. You can hardly see it and whenever I mention it, the person looking for it has to really search before they find it. Still, it is my only mark of pride and the only story to which I can claim my fame.
It all happened on a hot summer day...
...My brothers and I were anxious to get outside. We had finally finished our chores for the day and were free to have our fun. However after a few minutes out in the hot, muggy air, we no longer felt like doing much of anything. It was one of those days where you feel like playing baseball, building a fort, climbing trees, catching frogs or playing cops and robbers, but it's just so hot out that you really can’t seem to find the energy to do any of the things you feel like doing.
The only thing that sounded halfway feasible to us was a ride on our scooter. Perhaps the thought that the downhill scooter ride might stir the air around us and somehow cool us off, was a part of this decision making process. Our old house was situated at the bottom of a hill that, for a seven and eleven year old, seemed quite large and scary when it came to rollerblading or riding down it. Jesse and I decided that this would be the plan of action for our day and went in search of the scooter. We found it in the barn with two flat tires. (It was one of those old scooters that had big rubber tires.) However, not undaunted by this fact, we lugged the scooter outside and up to the top of the hill. Next, we positioned ourselves onto it in a way that we could both hold on to the handles. I was in the front, holding onto to the middle, and Jesse stood behind me, with his arms crossing over me in order to grab the handlebar on either side of my hands.
With a push of his foot on the pavement, Jesse got us rolling. We went flying down the hill, the rubber tires squishing with a weird sound, and us screaming as we went. As we headed down the hill I was jerking the handle to the right or left and Jesse was doing the same. This caused us to tilt and wiggle crazily; which in our opinion made it all the more fun. We arrived safely at the bottom of the hill and repeated the downhill runs several more times before the tragedy occurred.
We were heading down the hill again, jerking crazily and having the time of our lives. The jerking was getting somewhat out of control because we had gotten a little bit more invigorated and daring with each run. In between gulps of air, I was laughing and wind tears were blurring my vision. We were going so fast that when we got to the bottom of the hill, instead of stopping at the end of the driveway, we kept going into our yard. We were pumped about this and Jesse suddenly gave an extra hard jerk to the right, causing me to lose my grip. We careened wildly to the right and were still going at a pretty good speed when we hit the brick. It was just a small, normal sized brick, but it was enough to stop the flat- tired scooter and to send both Jesse and I lurching forward.
My head banged hard against the handlebar and Jesse bumped into me from behind. Both the scooter and its cargo tilted to the left, before crashing to the ground leaving a tangle of arms, legs and metal in a haphazard heap. Jesse and I managed to get ourselves untangled and moved apart from each other in order to inspect ourselves. My head felt slightly warm, but other than that I felt ok. My arms had a few scratches but nothing to comment about. I bent to inspect my legs and in so doing, glanced down at my shoes.
That’s when I saw it; a bright red spot on the canvas of my favorite shoes. It was just a small drop of blood, but it was enough to send me bursting into tears. My forehead had a slight cut in it that probably wasn't even an eighth of an inch long and not much deeper, and some of it had dripped onto my shoe. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but somehow, to a seven year old, the sight of blood always makes things ten times worse.
However, after a pretty quick entrance into the house where a little bit of love and attention was administered, my grief was pretty much gone. The wound healed rather quickly leaving me with just a tiny mark of a scar.
Not much to really boast about, but it was better than nothing….
...So, there you have it. That’s my story. No, it really isn't much of a story compared to Josh's broken arm, Luke’s skin graft, Johns glass cut that almost left him crippled or Rachel’s infected scar that has left her with a deep indent on her right leg.
My story doesn’t all have all the glamour or bravery involved in their stories. But somehow, as I've grown older, I've learned to appreciate the fact that I'm not severely scarred by wounds. Such things aren't on as high of a demand as they seemed to be when I was younger. Come to think of it, I don't think it was really all that glorious when I was young either. I distinctly remember coming out of the house and feeling extremely saddened at the fact that my favorite pair of canvas shoes would be forever marked with that spot of blood.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Victory in the Resurrection
Two days had passed since Jesus' death and all seemed hopeless. Can you imagine the anguish, the hopelessness of those who had placed their trust in Him? He was dead! Dead. How could they expect help from Someone who wasn't alive? How could they expect help from Someone who ultimately suffered the same consequences to sin as they did? What good was Christs perfectly lived life, if it had still resulted in death? As our pastor pointed out, what about their forefathers who had trusted in the coming Messiah for their salvation? "These all died in faith, not having received the promises but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth."(Hebrews 11:13) "Of which salvation the prophets have inquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that should come unto you: searching what or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should follow." The prophets longed to see and understand the grace that was to be experienced through the Messiah...But He had died, due to our sin. How did that make sense? Were they/we now destined to hell? Were they without hope? Their minds must have been so confused, their hearts heavy and their doubts many.
The third morning, some women make their way to the grave of the One in whom they had placed their trust. They came early in the morning, just as the sun was starting to rise. Perhaps they felt that the sun had no right to shine so brightly when their own thoughts seemed so dark. They were fully prepared to anoint a dead body; to see the face they had loved, now gray with death. I can't imagine that there was too much conversation, other than the puzzlement as to how they were going to get the stone that barricaded their way, rolled away from the entrance.
However, in Matthew, the Bible records that there was an earthquake and "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it." Thus, the women were greatly surprised to find that "the stone (was) rolled away from the sepulchre" (Luke 24:2) I think if I had been there I might have been a bit wary about trying to go any further, much less try to go into the actual tomb. An earthquake can do some pretty severe damage, and though Christs body had already been beaten and pierced, they had no way of knowing what it would look like now. However, "they entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus" (Luke 24:3) This left them with even more confusion. What was going on? Had the body been stolen? Had the earthquake somehow moved it? Well, "it came to pass as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments." (Vrs. 4) NOW the women responded in fear "and bowed their faces to the earth."
Though I don't think they were any less confused, they knew that something special was happening. The angels then speak, bringing the words of life that would bring hope to their souls and to the billions of lives that would follow.
"Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is RISEN!"
And in that incredible moment of understanding, that moment of Resurrection, all was well again. The disciples doubts were erased, their fears were put to rest, our sins were washed away and we were given the right to become the sons of God; to have a relationship with God the Father, because of Christ the Son. What an overwhelming thing to know that "God treated Christ as a sinner, so He could treat sinners, like Christ." What a great God!
All of the women go rejoicing on their way, except Mary. For some unknown reason, perhaps for fear, she did not enter the tomb with the other women "but stood without and wept" (John 20:11) She sees the two angels sitting and they even ask her why she is crying. She tells them and then not expecting them to really understand her sorrow or to be able to help her, she "turned herself back". That's when she saw Him. It was her risen Lord! Yet, she didn't recognize Him. He too asks her why she is weeping and who she is seeking. Did He already know? Yes, of course He did, but I think that, just like with us today, He wanted to hear her say that she was searching for Him, that she loved Him. Mary replies but, once again, not expecting much help, turns away. That's when Jesus says her name "Mary." I wonder if that single word, her own name, said by her Lord, just sent tingles down her spine. "The sheep hear His voice: and He calleth His own sheep by name. and leadeth them out. And when He putteth forth His own sheep, He goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him: for they know His voice." (John 10:3-4) "She turned herself, and saith unto Him 'Rabboni; which is to say Master" (John 20:16) Talk about a tear-jerking reunion!
However, Jesus says "Touch Me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren..." And what was Jesus going to tell His brethren? I think this next part is so interesting; to know that these were the thoughts that were most immediate on Christs mind, after rising from the dead. "...and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and YOUR FATHER; And to My God, and YOUR GOD." (Vrs. 17) That's what His death had accomplished! We now have the same merits, the same rights to call God our Father. We are His children! And Christ wanted to share with Mary the joy that was now hers.
Of course, being His child does bear responsibility, for skip down to verse 21 and you'll find Christ saying "Peace be unto you; as My Father hath sent Me, even so send I you."
How am I portraying Christ to the world around me? Am I living in a way that allows them to see His love, His sacrifice, His life, His joy, His Fathers glory?
He's gone to be with His Father again, now that he's made the way for us to join them someday, but He's coming back, you know. "A little while, and ye shall not see Me: and again, a little while, and ye shall see Me, because I go to the Father (who is also now YOUR Father). In that day, ye shall ask in My name: and I say not unto you, that I will pray the Father for you: for the Father Himself loveth you, because ye have loved Me and have believed that I came from God." John 1716, 26-27) We no longer need a mediator. We can go directly to God!
"And it came to pass, while He blessed them, He was parted from them and carried up into heaven." Their response? No more sorrow! "And they worshipped Him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God." They were thankful for far beyond that Easter Day, for their every day lives had been changed for all of eternity.
I Corinthians 15:52-58- In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumped shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, 'Death is swallowed up in victory. O death where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin: and the strength of the sin is the law. BUT THANKS BE TO GOD, WHICH GIVETH US THE VICTORY THROUGH OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST!" ---And because of that knowledge, O Christian, have faith, rise up, take back the ground and press on!---"Therefore my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."
There IS hope. He IS coming back. We WILL spend an eternity with Him.
Can't wait to meet my Savior in person, throw my arms around Him and thank Him for all He did. I am forever indebted.
The third morning, some women make their way to the grave of the One in whom they had placed their trust. They came early in the morning, just as the sun was starting to rise. Perhaps they felt that the sun had no right to shine so brightly when their own thoughts seemed so dark. They were fully prepared to anoint a dead body; to see the face they had loved, now gray with death. I can't imagine that there was too much conversation, other than the puzzlement as to how they were going to get the stone that barricaded their way, rolled away from the entrance.
However, in Matthew, the Bible records that there was an earthquake and "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it." Thus, the women were greatly surprised to find that "the stone (was) rolled away from the sepulchre" (Luke 24:2) I think if I had been there I might have been a bit wary about trying to go any further, much less try to go into the actual tomb. An earthquake can do some pretty severe damage, and though Christs body had already been beaten and pierced, they had no way of knowing what it would look like now. However, "they entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus" (Luke 24:3) This left them with even more confusion. What was going on? Had the body been stolen? Had the earthquake somehow moved it? Well, "it came to pass as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments." (Vrs. 4) NOW the women responded in fear "and bowed their faces to the earth."
Though I don't think they were any less confused, they knew that something special was happening. The angels then speak, bringing the words of life that would bring hope to their souls and to the billions of lives that would follow.
"Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is RISEN!"
And in that incredible moment of understanding, that moment of Resurrection, all was well again. The disciples doubts were erased, their fears were put to rest, our sins were washed away and we were given the right to become the sons of God; to have a relationship with God the Father, because of Christ the Son. What an overwhelming thing to know that "God treated Christ as a sinner, so He could treat sinners, like Christ." What a great God!
All of the women go rejoicing on their way, except Mary. For some unknown reason, perhaps for fear, she did not enter the tomb with the other women "but stood without and wept" (John 20:11) She sees the two angels sitting and they even ask her why she is crying. She tells them and then not expecting them to really understand her sorrow or to be able to help her, she "turned herself back". That's when she saw Him. It was her risen Lord! Yet, she didn't recognize Him. He too asks her why she is weeping and who she is seeking. Did He already know? Yes, of course He did, but I think that, just like with us today, He wanted to hear her say that she was searching for Him, that she loved Him. Mary replies but, once again, not expecting much help, turns away. That's when Jesus says her name "Mary." I wonder if that single word, her own name, said by her Lord, just sent tingles down her spine. "The sheep hear His voice: and He calleth His own sheep by name. and leadeth them out. And when He putteth forth His own sheep, He goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him: for they know His voice." (John 10:3-4) "She turned herself, and saith unto Him 'Rabboni; which is to say Master" (John 20:16) Talk about a tear-jerking reunion!
However, Jesus says "Touch Me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren..." And what was Jesus going to tell His brethren? I think this next part is so interesting; to know that these were the thoughts that were most immediate on Christs mind, after rising from the dead. "...and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and YOUR FATHER; And to My God, and YOUR GOD." (Vrs. 17) That's what His death had accomplished! We now have the same merits, the same rights to call God our Father. We are His children! And Christ wanted to share with Mary the joy that was now hers.
Of course, being His child does bear responsibility, for skip down to verse 21 and you'll find Christ saying "Peace be unto you; as My Father hath sent Me, even so send I you."
How am I portraying Christ to the world around me? Am I living in a way that allows them to see His love, His sacrifice, His life, His joy, His Fathers glory?
He's gone to be with His Father again, now that he's made the way for us to join them someday, but He's coming back, you know. "A little while, and ye shall not see Me: and again, a little while, and ye shall see Me, because I go to the Father (who is also now YOUR Father). In that day, ye shall ask in My name: and I say not unto you, that I will pray the Father for you: for the Father Himself loveth you, because ye have loved Me and have believed that I came from God." John 1716, 26-27) We no longer need a mediator. We can go directly to God!
"And it came to pass, while He blessed them, He was parted from them and carried up into heaven." Their response? No more sorrow! "And they worshipped Him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: and were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God." They were thankful for far beyond that Easter Day, for their every day lives had been changed for all of eternity.
I Corinthians 15:52-58- In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumped shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, 'Death is swallowed up in victory. O death where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin: and the strength of the sin is the law. BUT THANKS BE TO GOD, WHICH GIVETH US THE VICTORY THROUGH OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST!" ---And because of that knowledge, O Christian, have faith, rise up, take back the ground and press on!---"Therefore my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."
There IS hope. He IS coming back. We WILL spend an eternity with Him.
Can't wait to meet my Savior in person, throw my arms around Him and thank Him for all He did. I am forever indebted.
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