This has been an amazing two weeks. I didn’t get to post anything last Friday. Here’s why:
It all started Thursday, February 28, when my husband, Pete, went to the YMCA to work out on the elliptical. He does this almost every day, works hard, and is in good shape. However, this time, he had just gotten going when he collapsed and his heart went into ventricular fibrillation.
If you want to reveal a person’s true personality, put them behind the wheel. There’s something about driving that causes us to regard any veneer of civility, and our true colors bleed through. Pete and I drove over 5,000 miles this month, from our home in Colorado to South Carolina, then Florida, and finally, Chattanooga, Tennessee, before returning home. Since the northern states were experiencing snow and ice, we chose a more southern route—we encountered no snow, but our choice made our trip a bit longer. Most of those 5,000 miles were on interstates.
I’m glad we survived.
As a Christian, when I’m faced with a decision, I pray for guidance. Sometimes God answers quickly and clearly—a decisive “Do this!” or “Go there!” That was the type of answer we received 26 years ago, when we God told us to move from California to Colorado. Wanting to make sure we were hearing correctly, we asked for Him to confirm his direction at least three times in the next week or so. We received six signs in three days. With that kind of verification, all we could do was obey!
Sometimes He tells me no. That’s helpful too. Should I accept this job offer? No. Should I eat that brownie? No! (Darn.) I may not always like being told no, but at least there’s no confusion about it.
The internet is chock full of “valuable” advice. It’s a good thing, too. How else would I know that for the past half-century, I’ve been showering all wrong? And apparently, many of the activities I enjoy are included in the list of atrocious faux pas that baby boomers are guilty of. (Not that this is surprising—after all, I am a baby boomer). If I didn’t have the internet, how would I know how to scramble eggs, how to vote, or how to decorate my home?
I think we’d all agree—the world is not doing so well. Read the headlines, listen to the news, and we aren’t surprised to find that people lie and cheat and murder, innocent people suffer, and loving kindness is in very short supply. How did we get into this mess?
If you’re a Christian, you probably blame it all on Satan, who enticed Eve into eating that forbidden fruit. The story in Genesis 3 is very familiar; we’ve read it many times. And whether you take it literally or symbolically, the end result is the same. Mankind fell for the lie and the results are all around us.
I’ve been highly distracted for the past two weeks. Our daughters and granddaughters have been visiting, and I’ve been playing games, taking photos, cooking meals, and hugging—lots of hugging. What I haven’t been doing is writing blog posts. In fact, I totally missed last Friday, in spite of my best intentions. Instead of writing, taking time away from family that we don’t get to see nearly as often as we’d like, I thought I would cheat a bit.
The following is one of the very first posts I ever wrote for this blog. Yes, it’s listed in the archives, but if you’re like me, you rarely—if ever—hunt back through the old posts for something to read. I think my point is just as important today as it was when I wrote it almost ten years ago. I hope you agree.
“That’s all there is.”
I couldn’t believe it. Really?
I had become a believer the previous May, near the end of my freshman year in college. After spending a frustrating summer vacation back home, fending off my mother’s determined efforts to undermine my fledgling faith, I was finally back at school, eager to grow spiritually. Until two weeks prior to “accepting Jesus as my personal Savior,” I’d been a fervent atheist. I’d never even been to church. Now it seemed as if there was so much to learn about God! So I turned to the person who had answered my questions last spring.
“OK. I’m reading my Bible. I’m praying. Now what?”
And the answer came, “That’s it. That’s all there is.”