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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, but I couldn’t be sure. It was far away.
During grade-school, I came to understand I’d have to go through the gate. A few said it wasn’t necessarily dark, it might open to light. I chose light, and from that time, if I stared long enough, I thought I saw a silver glow.
As a teenager, I realized most people playacted like the gate wasn’t there. If they had to talk about it they whispered, but to be polite no one looked that direction.
We used to run toward the far off speck, but then it got too close. So we tried to move away, or ignore it. 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’ll not fear death.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world should be saved through him. (John 3:17)
“Bothell, has anyone ever told you that you’re a strange Christian?” Rupert said over his white picket fence.
“I’m a strange Christian? What do you mean?” Bothell thought about the other fence that divided them.
“Most people shun Georgi and me, they don’t want our type in the neighborhood. If you know what I mean.” Rupert nodded toward another house. “But you’ve been a real friend. Not that I’m complaining, but it’s not what we’ve come to expect.”
Bothell smiled at Rupert’s florescent yellow and pink robe. He sent a silent prayer up, Lord give me the right words.
“When I read my Bible I don’t see that Jesus condemned anybody except the self-righteous. He was a friend of sinners like me.” Rupert seemed to be tracking. “I hope what you see in me is a little of the real Jesus. You and Georgi are loved.”
“Oh, you are just so sweet.” Rupert reached over the fence with a hug and a flutter of pats.
“Rupert, on behalf of Christians I apologize that we’re judgmental. It’s very wrong. We’re all sinners who need forgiveness and second chances to do better. That’s why Jesus came.”
Rupert’s eyes moistened and Bothell knew the fence between them was dissolving.
Prayer: Savior of the world, lead me across fences.
- Details
- Written by: Don Goulding
Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for your brothers, love one another deeply, from the heart. (1 Peter 1:22) (NIV)
It was a simple scene—a dilapidated mobile home, a dying tree, and a rope-swing. The Holy Spirit used these three elements to expose a rotting cavity in my soul.
Lightening had shattered the top half of the tree until it looked like a hunched man. Any decent arborist would have cut the thing down.
But what about the swing? There must have been a child that treasured the stumpy oak. The rundown house hinted that the tree-swing may be the kid’s only solace. He or she would grow up with fond memories of the dear bent trunk—the eyesore I would’ve removed.
My fixation with perfection leaves a void in my heart. If a tree isn’t symmetrical, I want it chopped. If a human isn’t beautiful or rational, I want them to change. When a disciple backslides, I disregard them. I only love God’s creation when it measures up to my judgmental standards.
My heart needs to repent because real love doesn’t care if the recipient has value. It simply overflows the goodwill it receives from God, without regard to where the overabundance spills.
While serving in the Solomon Islands, Melanesian boys led me to their favorite hiking destination in the jungle. An emerald pool overflowed crystal water down a waterfall and into another fern-laced swimming hole.
From the purity of God’s being his love overflows my heart. For me to look down and decide the next pool is undeserving goes against every natural law. It dams up the river that I would drink from in heaven.
Prayer: Jesus, help me pour love into whomever you put beside me.