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- Written by: Don Goulding
Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other. (Psalms 85:10) (NIV)
Two gray haired fathers lowered into chairs in the study.
“Faithfulness,” Father Love began, “you and I have been friends these many years, yes?”
The other nodded.
“Then I’ll not dally. It’s time to unite our families.”
“I agree, Father Love. A marriage would seal the alliance between you and me.” He leaned forward. “Are we not already of the same heart? Where love goes, faithfulness is always there.”
“And likewise, your house has been good for ours, because love increases when faithfulness is near,” Father Love said.
“Then we are agreed, your son, Righteousness, shall marry my daughter, Peace?”
The two fathers rose and united with a hearty shake of hands.
Meanwhile, beyond the study doors, Righteousness and Peace strolled in the garden.
“I think we’re natural for each other.” The handsome man smiled. “Because when the righteousness of God is received, the heart is at peace.”
Peace looked into her beloved’s eyes. “And we will have beautiful children. We’ll call them Joy, and Patience.”
Peace must have noticed how Righteousness watched her lips as she spoke. She blushed, but rose up on her toes. It was all the encouragement he needed. At the moment their fathers shook hands in the nearby room, Righteousness leaned down, and kissed Peace.
Prayer: Father, unite love, faithfulness, righteousness, and peace in my heart.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by how you use worldly wealth, so that when it runs out you will be welcomed into the eternal homes. (Luke 16:9)
I stepped over a Cuban palm that fell on the porch in Zimbabwe. Yesterday, it flaunted a bowtie of waxy seed tendrils festooned below the fronds. Today, it lies dead on the path. White ants (African termites) chewed through it at the soil line, and the remains will be dismantled by all manner of bugs and bacteria. Everything is eaten by something in Africa.
In Western cultures people want to devour my time. In the developing nations it’s my belongings that are tugged apart. This one wants a pair of shoes, another wants money for an operation. If I always say yes, I’ll soon be dismantled and returned to the earth. How would Christ have me give so it results in permanent life, rather than reabsorption by consuming organisms?
For some years, the Zimbabwean mission ran a clinic that treated thousands free of charge. Then we began including counseling and prayer as the last steps of treatment.
The sickly poor came many kilometers on foot, bicycles, and even in wheelbarrows. It was like they only asked for the physical consonants of L and F. We added the spiritual vowels of I and E, and for the first time they received the whole of LIFE. Our goal was to bring them to Christ for eternity, and medical treatment attracted them to the permanent gift.
My charity must be as much eternal as it is temporal. Every hug, word, and dollar must point to heaven. To do less only makes souls comfortable while they wait for an eternity of hell.
Prayer: Father, make me a giver of things eternal.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
And just as people are appointed to die once, and then to face judgment, so also, after Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many, to those who eagerly await him he will appear a second time, not to bear sin but to bring salvation. (Hebrews 9:27, 28)
I first saw the gate when I was a boy. It looked like a dark speck on the horizon. I couldn’t be sure, it was so far away.
During grade school, I came to understand I’d have to go through the gate. A few people said it wasn’t necessarily dark, it might open to light. I hoped so. If I stared long enough, I thought I saw a silver glow.
Gradually, I realized most people acted like the gate wasn’t there. If they had to talk about it, they whispered. And to be polite, no one looked that direction.
As teenagers, we used to run toward the far off speck. Then, it got too close. We tried to move away. Still, it got bigger. Old or young, everyone was pulled to the gate, and we pretended otherwise.
One crazy day, I faced the gate. Yes, a silver glow, silver and gold. It wasn't the dark void, it was the entrance to life. I couldn’t recall why we feared it. True, we shouldn’t rush through, but rest, let it draw, and don’t be afraid. The gate wasn’t the end, it was the beginning.
Now I’m aging, and up close, the shining portal consumes my horizon. Wondering, I stare through the opening into an airy expanse. It secretly thrills me. But I have to remember, don’t talk about it. It’s not polite.
Prayer: God my Savior, I will not fear death.