The Fleeting Vapor of Life.

Hey friends, today I am pondering how much vapor our lives contain.
The bible says our life is but vapor (James 4:14) – quick, fleeting, temporary – poof, and it’s gone.

So, I’m sitting here in the quiet, my heart a little heavier than usual today. I lost a friend recently—a mentor, a guide, someone who poured wisdom and laughter into my life like a river that never seemed to run dry. And yet, here we are, standing at the edge of that river, staring into the stillness where their presence used to ripple. Death has a way of doing that, doesn’t it? It stops us in our tracks, takes the breath out of our lungs momentarily, makes us look up from our calendars and coffee cups, and whispers, This life? It’s fragile. It’s fleeting. It’s a vapor.

James, that no-nonsense brother of Jesus, put it like this: “What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14, NIV). A mist. A puff of breath on a cold morning. Here one moment, gone the next. It’s not morbid to linger on this—it’s honest. It’s the kind of truth that shakes us awake, that begs us to ask:

What are we doing with this one, wild, temporary life?

When I learned yesterday that one of my mentors and friends passed, it felt like the ground shifted beneath me. Maybe you’ve been there too—when someone you love or admire slips beyond the veil, and you’re left holding questions bigger than your heart can carry. Why so soon? What comes next? And what does it all mean for the days we’ve got left? I want to lean into those questions together for just a few moments, because I think, in some way, they’re holy.
They’re the kind of questions that pull us closer to the mystery of God, to the heartbeat of eternity.

The Fragility of Now

Let’s start here: life is breakable. It’s delicate, like a clay jar holding something sacred. Paul, that wild-eyed apostle, called us “jars of clay” to show that the treasure inside us—God’s light, God’s love—is carried in something that can crack, chip, shatter (2 Corinthians 4:7). My friend’s death reminds me of that today. One moment, they were here—laughing, teaching, encouraging, challenging me to be better. Next, they were gone, and I’m left holding the pieces, wondering how something so vibrant could be so temporary.

But isn’t that the beauty of it? The fragility is what makes it precious. Every hug, every shared story, every quiet moment of prayer—it’s all a gift because it won’t last forever. The writer of Ecclesiastes gets it: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, NIV). This life is a season, a chapter, a melody that rises and falls. And when someone we love steps out of this song, it doesn’t mean the music stops—it just changes key.

The Afterlife: A Door, Not a Wall

So what happens when the mist fades? When the jar breaks? When the melody shifts? That’s where the questions about the afterlife come in, and oh, they’re big questions. But here’s the thing: death isn’t a wall. It’s a door. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die” (John 11:25, NIV). That’s not just a comforting platitude; it’s a promise that whatever lies beyond this life, it’s held in the hands of a God who loves us fiercely.

What’s on the other side? The Bible gives us glimpses, not blueprints. Streets of gold, a new heaven and new earth, a place where “God will wipe every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4, NIV). But it’s less about the details and more about the One who’s waiting there. My friend, my mentor, my Grandparents, my Aunt Joy —they’re not gone, not really. They’ve stepped through the door into a reality more real than this one, where the love and laughter we shared here are just a shadow of what’s to come. It’s not some fairytale story, but rather a hope, a reality, an eternal promise.

The afterlife isn’t about escaping this world; it’s about this world being caught up in something bigger, something eternal. It’s about God saying, “I’m not done with you yet.” When I think of my friend and others who have recently made that transition, I imagine them laughing in a place where the colors are brighter, the joy is deeper, and the love is unending.
And that gives me hope.

Living the Temporary with Eternity in Mind

But what about us, the ones still here, breathing in this fleeting vapor? How do we live in a world where jars break and mists vanish? We live awake. We live open. We live like every moment is a chance to love, to forgive, to create something beautiful. Jesus told us to “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness” (Matthew 6:33, NIV), which isn’t about ignoring this life but about infusing it with eternal weight. Every act of kindness, every prayer whispered in the dark, every time we choose love over fear—it’s all building something that outlasts the mist.

My friend’s life was like that. He didn’t just exist; he poured himself out. He listened well and pointed me (and others) toward a Jesus in a way that made me want to run toward Him. His sudden death doesn’t erase that—it amplifies it. It reminds me to live in a way that echoes into eternity, to hold loosely to the things that fade and cling tightly to the things that last.

So here’s my invitation to you, friends: let’s live like we’re made of mist.
Let’s love like we’re made of eternity. Let’s hold the people we love a little closer, forgive a little quicker, and chase the God who holds both this life and the next. Because this vapor? It’s fleeting.
But the One who breathes it into being?
He’s forever.

“The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us” (1 John 1:2, NIV).

Let’s proclaim it with our lives, every fragile, beautiful moment of them.

With you in the journey,
Pastor Scott

May 30, 2025 0

Let’s Talk About Death and Empty Tombs

Listen to this episode on Spotify (click the link)

Hey friends! I’ve been mulling this topic over today. I don’t want to write a devotional thought that scares you, nor do I want to depress you. Recently, while scrolling on TikTok, I came across this profile that uses AI to generate what certain celebrities who died before their time would look like today. As I watched these clips, I was both sad and happy at the same time. Thanks to the use of artificial intelligence, this content creator brought some of my childhood celebrities back to life.

So, let’s talk this thing called death—this inevitability, the thing we don’t bring up at dinner parties, the one we tiptoe around like it’s the awkward uncle who overstays his welcome. It’s the shadow in the corner, the thing we’re told to fear, to fight, to outrun. But what if we’ve been looking at it all wrong? What if death isn’t the end of the story, but a doorway? What if it’s not a period in a sentence, but a comma?

I mean, think about it. We live in a world obsessed with keeping death at arm’s length—anti-aging creams, kale smoothies, that extra mile on the treadmill—like we can negotiate with it, bribe it to look the other way. And yet, it’s coming for all of us. You, me, the barista who just spelled your name wrong on the cup. Death doesn’t discriminate. It’s sometimes been called the great equalizer. But here’s the wild, beautiful twist: what if it’s not something to dread? What if it’s something to lean into? Not in some morbid way, but rather an embrace of the comma, the next chapter, the acknowledgement that even though we don’t fully know yet, our lives are actually created to be eternal.

See, there’s this ancient story—maybe you’ve heard it—about a guy named Jesus. He’s walking around, healing people, feeding crowds, flipping tables, and then he says something outrageous: “I am the resurrection and the life.” Not I’ll give you resurrection, not someday you’ll get life—he says I am it. Right here, right now. And then, just to prove it, he walks straight into death—nails, cross, tomb, the whole brutal mess—and comes out the other side. Alive. Breathing. New.

What’s that about? It’s about a promise. A promise that death doesn’t get the last word. A promise that whatever’s on the other side isn’t darkness or nothingness, but something so alive, so vibrant, it makes everything we’ve ever known look like a shadow. Heaven, sure—call it that if you want—but it’s not just harps and clouds. It’s a reality where everything broken gets mended, where every tear gets wiped away, where you and I step into the fullness of who we were always meant to be.

And here’s the thing: that promise isn’t just for later. It’s for now. Because if resurrection is real—if Jesus meant what he said—then death isn’t a monster under the bed. It’s a transition. A shedding. Like a seed cracking open in the dirt, letting go of what it was so it can become something more. You don’t have to be afraid of that. You don’t have to clench your fists and grit your teeth. You can open your hands. You can breathe.

I think about my own life sometimes—those moments when I’ve felt death brush close. A loved one gone too soon, a diagnosis that stopped me cold, or just the quiet ache of knowing this body won’t last forever. And yeah, it stings. It’s heavy. But then I hear that voice again: “I am the resurrection and the life.” And I wonder—what if this isn’t the end? What if it’s the beginning of something so big, so good, I can’t even wrap my head around it?

So, what if we stopped running from death and started trusting the One who beat it? What if we lived like people who know the tomb is empty? Because it is. It’s empty. And that changes everything. Death isn’t the thief we thought it was—it’s the usher, leading us into a room we’ve been homesick for our whole lives.

You don’t have to fear it. You don’t have to outsmart it. You just have to trust that the story’s not over. That there’s a resurrection waiting. That heaven isn’t a far-off dream—it’s the heartbeat of everything true, pulling us closer every day. And when the time comes, when we step through that doorway, we’ll see it: the light, the love, the life that never ends.

So, here’s my question for you today: What would it look like to live unafraid? To wake up tomorrow and say, “Death, you don’t own me—I’m already on the other side”? Because you are. We all are. The promise is real. The tomb is empty. And the best is yet to come.

April 3, 2025 0

On The Edge of Something Beautiful – A Discussion on Death, Loss and Resurrection.

Hey friends.

Let’s talk about something we don’t often talk about directly: death. It seems macabre or taboo. It’s one of those things that hangs around the edges of our lives, a constant hum we try to tune out. We get so good at avoiding it, at pushing it away, that when it crashes into our world – the phone call, the diagnosis, the sudden absence – it can feel like a cosmic gut punch.

And in those moments, the questions come flooding in. What now? Where did they go? Is this… is this really it?

It’s okay to ask those questions. It’s okay to wrestle with them. In fact, I think it’s essential. Because honestly, a faith that doesn’t grapple with death, a faith that tries to bypass the very real pain and mystery of it all, isn’t really a faith at all. It’s just a nice idea, a comforting story we tell ourselves.

But Christianity, at its core, is about something much more disruptive, much more real than that. It’s about resurrection.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Resurrection? Scott, come on.” And I get it. It sounds… well, it sounds like a Sunday school answer (where the answer is always “Jesus”). But what if, just what if, it’s not just a tidy theological point? What if it’s the key to understanding everything?

Think about a seed. You plant it in the ground. It dies. It decomposes. It looks like it’s gone. Finished. But then, something incredible happens. A sprout emerges. New life. From what looked like death.

That’s the rhythm of the universe. Death and rebirth. Winter and spring. The ebb and flow of the tide. It’s woven into the fabric of everything. And it’s woven into us.

We’re so afraid of endings. We cling to what we know, to what’s familiar. But what if endings aren’t really endings at all? What if they’re transitions? Gateways? The edge of something beautiful we can’t even imagine? It’s beyond our current vision, beyond our current field of reality.

Jesus talked about this. He talked about losing your life to find it. He talked about a grain of wheat falling to the ground and dying so that it could bring forth much fruit. He wasn’t just talking about himself. He was talking about the fundamental nature of reality.

So, when we face death – our own or the death of someone we love – it’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to feel the pain. It’s okay to rage against the unfairness of it all. Grief is not the absence of faith. It’s the honest expression of love. It’s visceral, it’s raw, it’s the authentic expression of loss.

But even in the midst of that grief, we can hold onto this hope, this wild, audacious hope, that death is not the final word. (Thank God!) That what looks like the end is actually the beginning. That what seems lost is actually found, transformed, made new. We just can’t see it yet. It’s just beyond our reach. Beyond the “veil” – “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)

This isn’t about escaping the reality of death. It’s about facing it head-on, with courage and with hope. It’s about trusting that even in the darkest valley, even in the face of the ultimate unknown, there is still light. There is still life. There is still love. This should be encouraging to us all. We don’t have to fear this unknown variable, or be paralyzed by this interruption of life. It’s okay to talk about it. It’s okay to tackle this topic with the assurance that God is still present and His sovereignty has authority over both life and what we call death. New life is resurrection…we are just on the edge of it peering into something we have yet to understand.

And that, my friends, is a story worth believing in.
Grace and Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

February 4, 2025 0

It feels like a sucker-punch…

a few weeks ago, out of the blue, I looked up Rachel Held Evans because I hadn’t heard from her in a while. I have enjoyed her blog, and though at times I have been at odds with her view point, I have always been challenged by what she had to say.

So I looked her up, and discovered she was ill and in a medically induced coma. I couldn’t believe it. What? Naturally, I figured the doctors knew what they were doing and she would be fine. Then I saw the news today, it was sobering, it caught me by the throat and wouldn’t let go. I involuntarily exhaled all of the wind from my lungs. She was gone.

I cannot even imagine what her husband Dan must be going through right now. She was only 37 years old, and I feel as if the world has been sucker-punched right in the gut. How could something like this even happen…and yet it does. How could something so random and seemingly innocuous even take place in our modern-medicine-filled-world? It feels as if a large boulder has been placed on our collective chests and we are immobilized by the sheer weight of it.

The “pat”, Christianese answers like “well, it must have been God’s timing” and “everything happens for a reason” just feel like bold-faced lies, and I don’t want to hear them said. There is a certain bitter taste that wells up in my mouth and I feel that when someone so young (with a young family) and so much potential in the world dies it just seems so unfair. I have felt this way numerous times, and I wish that there was some way to quantify the sudden passing of people like this…but there’s not. We live in a very fragile world and every one of us is very much mortal. Life and Death balance precariously in our world and (as morbid as it sounds -sorry) any moment could possibly be our last.

I won’t cheapen Rachel Held Evans’ death by trying to summarize and “mortalize” a neatly packaged missive, stating that we never really know when the Lord will take us…but I will say that this all just feels heavy and unfair. I know we have never, ever been given a life that was guaranteed to be fair, but when a loved one or someone we respect dies so suddenly we feel it in the core of our souls…and it feels so very unfair. Please keep Dan Evans, Rachel’s husband in your prayers, as well as their small children and the extended family.

Perhaps we will all catch our breath again, but for right now, it just feels like a massive sucker-punch…and it’s okay to mourn…but it just feels so unfair.

-Just a thought.

May 4, 2019 0

Dear Salvation Army – 10 Things That Will Kill Your Corps

Today I want to explore with you only ten things that will kill our corps. As with other lists we have compiled here on Pastorsponderings, this is merely a primer and I know there are other issues that will certainly lead to a terminal corps. Be mindful as we explore this list to consider your own corps, ask yourself the hard questions. Our goal is not to tear down or make anyone feel bad about their corps, but instead through critical thinking, help us to inject vibrancy into corps settings. One other word of caution – Corps Officers, don’t try to be the dictator of every aspect of your corps, micromanaging will stunt the potential growth of your soldiers and local officers. Soldiers & Local Officers, don’t expect or accept the notion that your corps officer is to do everything either. This is a partnership. It is true that the position of corps officer is a very temporal position and with it comes differing views and leadership styles, but be firm and strong as the glue that hold your corps together! More often than not, corps that die usually have little to no local officers leading the way. Without that infrastructure the corps can collapse.

So, without further adieu, let us delve into
Ten Things That Will Kill Your Corps

Legalism
Contrary to some views, the Pharisee of the Bible did not die…they still exist sometimes even in our corps. Be mindful of the use of rules and regulations. Yes, we need order and operate within a quasi-military structure, but watch out that extreme legalism doesn’t soffocate your members! Remember that we are not under law but under grace! (Rom. 6:14) Yes, keep to the doctrines of our Army, but do not lord it over soldiers and adherents. Excessive power will divide people and make them dispise leadership, where as grace and love will solidify the soldiers and friends of our army. Sometimes, bite your tongue and say nothing is a better formula than lashing out, judging and becoming the rule enforcer!
Tolerance of Sin Issues
At the other end of the spectrum is the ignoring and tolerance of sin issues in your corps. Be mindful that we are not the judge of our world, but we do hold a high standard for our fellow brothers and sister in Christ who wear this uniform. This almost seems to be in complete conflict with the first point, but it is not. Galatians 6:1 clearly reminds us as it did in Paul’s day – “Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted.”

Do not blindly ignore sin issues in your corps.
Confront in love with the support of other believers. We must be very cautious here, make sure this is not done in anger, unless righteous anger is needed (let the Holy Spirit lead you). Pray about these issues. Wait for the right time. DO NOT confront from the Pulpit or lash out at people just to “get even”. Use your corps council, your local officers, contact an mediatary from your divisional headquarters, but do not let anyone in your fellowship slip further into sin and/or by ignoring it condone it by-proxy.
Lack of Core Leadership
Without core leaders in the corps, the vision and decisions fall solely on the Corps Officer(s). Yes, they have had training, yes they are leaders, but they cannot lead properly without the core leaders to help them. A shared vision and delegated group will be better equipped to handle opportunities and threats that come to your corps and community. If you don’t currently have core leaders, begin by praying and asking God to reveal potential leaders to you. Prayer is never a last resort, but a constant conversation. Don’t limit your search to just the older members, the younger generations will eventually replace us at some point, so begin to invest in them. Begin to disciple them, and display for them what leadership is all about! Gather one or two influential people with common sense to help you in your corps. Remember, that we are an egalitarian movement – both men and women are equal, so do not limit your leadership search to just men or just women. Without a core group of leaders, the vision and movement will be limited.
Polarizing Visions

Polarizing Vision Can Kill!
On the other end of the spectrum you might have too many cooks in the kitchen, so to speak. What happens when the core leaders in your core do not agree on which direction to take? This is a danger, and if not addressed properly can leader to dysfunction, an exodus of membership and death in the corps. A shared vision is of the utmost importance. Without a shared vision, everyone will be doing their own thing and everyone will be going every which way, and nothing will ever get done successfully. “Where there is no guidance the people fall, But in abundance of counselors there is victory.” (Proverbs 11:14)
Inwardly focused – All-in
There is a danger in our corps to become so insulated, so accustomed to who is there, and what we do as a corps, that we begin to have no need for the “outside world”. We stop looking out into our community and we become self-reliant and self-focused. In this danger, what happens when our congregation gets old and dies? Will there be youth to raise up and take our place? Will be just be a group of inbred soldiers? I don’t mean to sound crass, but the reality is, we need to stop being afraid of our communities. We need to stop treating the people outside our buildings as “those people” with a sense of superiority. We must squelch the desire to just remain in our buildings and selfishly focus on “us”. What about the great commission? What are we fighting for if we only fight for ourselves and our traditions and self-interests? If we are all-in and inwardly focused, we will slowly die away…and no one will care when we’re gone.
Outwardly focused – All-in
This is probably a rare thing, but perhaps not. Perhaps there are some corps that have so many services to the community that worship and all things “Spiritual” are an after thought, and then you come to Sunday and it just becomes a “thing we do”. We focus all of our energies on the outside, on meeting human needs but we seldom meet those needs “in HIS name” anymore. We might as well be just another social service agency or a humanitarian group, because we will have forgotten our first love and the “body” will be just bits and pieces pulled and stretched so thin that it doesn’t resemble Christ any longer.
Rigid Goals and Vision
We can plan to fail by over planning everything. This can kill our corps, if we do not listen to feedback from those we serve, and we merely continue to plod on in our vision and goal because “they have been set, and we don’t alter these goals”. Goals should never be so rigid that there is no looking back and re-evaluating what works and what does not work, whether it be in evangelism, discipleship, or corps fellowship growth strategies. Remember what worked 100 years ago, might not necessarily be the best method to use in an ever evolving culture. Not to say we adopt our culture, but we ought to consider what works and what does not work any longer and not be so rigid that we refuse to ever change how we plan and how we enact a strategy in our corps. Rigidity can kill your corps, and stifle any potential growth you might see.
Holiness is not taught
If you corps does not understand Holiness, and or it is never preached on spoken of, perhaps this might be an indicator of a terminal issue. I am not saying that holiness is the end-all be-all of the corps, but what do you do with Salvation after receiving it? Where does one go after initial sanctification? Does the Holy Spirit still desire to transform us through and through? Does He not want us to be the very reflection of Christ? Yes. There needs to be continual conversation about our surrendered life and how that looks in the real world.
Discipleship is not cultivated
With the teachings of Holiness, comes the deeper fellowship of discipleship. This isn’t some text book class we all are forced to attend, this is mentoring, this is emulating elders we respect, this is becoming more than who we are now. Walking in the footsteps of saints and in so doing, we too become saints within this great army. If your corps does not have this vital element, closely connected to holiness, you could be facing extinction. Recognize this need, and do something!!
Comfort Over Risk
Lastly, our army ~~could~~ will die if we merely remain content in where we have come. We can sit back and relish the past. We can lament that things aren’t how they used to be in the bygone days. We can rest comfortably on financial resources and riches we have been given from various places, and never take another risk again…and if we do this, we. will. die. I cannot stress it enough, in order for God to change our Army, we have to become uncomfortable again. We have to take risks and forget what the rules and regulations say. We have to close dead corps, move to places of need without bureaucratic red tape hamstringing us along the way. We have to get out of our pews and put feet to our professed faith. It’s either put up or shut-up. Seriously, we can talk a good game, but if we can’t back it up, then hung it up and quit already. We don’t need fans in the stands not doing the work. We don’t need complainers and criticizers telling it us it can’t be done – because the risk is too great. If we don’t do something, we might as well put our corps on life-support right now. There is a sad trend that is taking place in our corps around the USA, and our corps are not statistically growing anymore. We are not busting out of our corps buildings anymore. Yes, perhaps it’s across the board in all denominations, but could it be that we are so comfortable now that we have stopped ACTUALLY trying to reach our communities? Could this be an entire systemic issue of spiritual laziness? Forgive me if I offend you today, I can’t help but feel alarmed at how swiftly our corps are dying. And I can’t help but wonder what the next 50 years will hold for this movement? If we do nothing, we will not be here in 50 years…not like we have been, not like we should be…and then perhaps, Lord forbid, God raises up someone else to do what we should have been doing.

These are ten things that are killing our corps…there are more, but for now that is more than enough to ponder and chew on in our army. What do you think? Tell us, please, I relish your input, opinion and testimonies.

Blessings on you and your corps today!
To God be the glory!

May 19, 2016 8

David Bowie, Lazarus, Blackstar, Life and Death

I have to admit right up front that I was never an avid fan of Bowie’s music.
Sure, I know all of the hits, like “China Girl“, “Let’s Dance” and the Iconic song duet with Freddie Mercury “Under pressure“: …but I wouldn’t categorize my fandom as “superfan” by any means. I don’t have all of his records, cd’s or downloaded musical content.

My very first recollection of Bowie’s work came by way of the movie “The Labyrinth”.
He played an amazing villainous character known as the Goblin King. His music and strange vocals carried a mediocre movie into the realms of a cult classic.

David Bowie wasn’t your average, run of the mill musician. He sort of did his own thing. He set the trend. His music was strangely weird and fascinating at the same time. In 1969 Bowie gave us Major Tom in “The Space Oddity” which tells the tale of an astronaut leaving Earth and of his fears in a rather nostalgic and melancholy way.

Throughout his career he gave us odd. He gave us artistry and creativity. He certainly gave us something unique and rarely (if ever) duplicated.

But…
this isn’t really a tribute today.
This is a pondering. And like all ponderings, I would like to ask questions that perhaps have no answer, but maybe, just maybe we continue to seek them out along the way.

BLACKSTAR
I find it rather fascinating that David Bowie kept his failing, terminal diagnosis of cancer to himself. It is astounding in this day and age that something that was private stayed private. What’s even more interesting is that although Bowie was given this gloomy prognosis, he set his sights on finishing this remarkable journey on his own terms. Just two days after the release of Blackstar, Bowie died. It was as if he had timed all of this, and everything went according to his plans.

Life and Death…
I have listened to Bowie’s last album “Blackstar”.
I have seen both music videos for Lazarus and Blackstar. They are hypnotic, weird and yet oddly captivating. Within these depictions of death, we find a man struggling with his own mortality and coming to grips with his own illness. There is so much to ponder with this final release. He certainly knew he was dying when he began work on this album. He knew time was short. Despite his prognosis, Bowie decided how his passing would be depicted to the world. I do not want to delve too deeply into the symbolism and interpretation of his final songs, but I am quite interested in the final product of who each of us are…and what we leave wish to behind.

Making it Personal…
My personal interpretation of this final act of Bowie’s speaks to me on a much deeper plain than mere showbiz and pop culture. The question begs to be asked in my own life. It’s a question that currently doesn’t have a specific timetable like Bowie’s did, and yet keeps pounding on the door of my life. It’s not a prideful question, or a fear of one’s reputation either. In the purest sense…in the honesty of silence, when no one else is around…this question begs me to answer. It’s really a two fold question that keeps getting kicked around in my head, and I still find myself falling short on the words that would formulate an appropriate answer. Questions like: “How do you want to be remembered, and what sort of legacy do you want to leave behind?” float around my mind waiting to be explored, quantified and perhaps answered in slow-small doses.

Honestly, I don’t wish to take away anything from Bowie’s artistry and canvas that he has hung on its final frame and placed on his legacy (that is a stand-alone project of His life – not mine) …but within my own heart I must ask this of myself…and perhaps we all do. I’m some what fearful to what the answers might be, because it can be far too revealing even to ourselves. “What am I doing with my life right now that matters?” “What can I leave as a legacy for my children and for the world around me?” “How is the world better because of what I’ve done to better it around me?”

From a Christ-driven relationship perspective, I also know that I do not live for myself, but for One who has given us all grace. I live for One who holds both life and death in His hands, and in Whom everlasting life can be found. I find that my “Lazarus” in this new life, in the hope of eternal life is completely and utterly found in Christ. This isn’t some sermon I’m writing, or a persuasive speech, this is just how I feel and what I see in my life. I know hope exists. I know peace exists. Everlasting love and life also exist – in Christ.

Where ever you live.
Whatever you do.
If you are facing grim prognosis’ in life…know that this life is only the beginning.
We can grasp onto a life that is eternal and will never run down or expire unlike these bodies of ours.

Something more to ponder today.

January 26, 2016 0

Seeking Dead-Jesus… (a reflection of Mary at the tomb)

I keep thinking about Mary encountering Jesus in the garden post-death.
Imagine it with me if you can:

She is going there to properly take care of his dead body.
She is going there to shed a few more tears in private.
She is going there to say goodbye.
Her heart is as heavy as a led balloon.
She just can’t wake up from this nightmare.
Rising early that morning, a night wrought with bad dreams and sleeplessness, she heads directly to the grave.
Call it a moment to convince herself that He’s really gone.
Call it a part of the mourning process.

Rounding the last turn in the overgrown garden she comes upon a sight that she cannot quite explain.
Reason fails her and she is pauses a step to take in the scene attempting to comprehend it all – His grave is open. Picking up the pace, she closes in on the tomb and enters all in one quick motion. The place where they had laid Jesus is empty, it is vacant. Had the authorities changed their minds? What happened to the body of her teacher, her rabbi?

Mary runs back and gets the disciples who, upon hearing this troubling news, run to the tomb to check it out for themselves.

Fresh tears begin to well up in her eyes as a lump forms in her throat as this all takes place.
Where is Jesus?
Why had they done this?
Could they not have left Him be, allowing this one ounce of dignity?

Stepping back out of the tomb, the early sun begins to crest the horizon and spills effortlessly out upon the garden igniting it in hues of orange and red. Mary doesn’t know what to do. She is dumb-founded. Mary peers again into the tomb to make sure she has seen it correctly, as grief can often cloud the ruffled edges of judgment and understanding. Then…something catches her eye – two angelic forms standing beside the place where dead-Jesus had been laid. They speak to her. “Woman, why are you crying?” they ask…as if the meaning of death and loss meant nothing. But Mary swallows back tears and replies “They have taken away my Lord and I don’t know where they have put Him.” Uttering this very statement is like releasing the floodgates in a dam and her resolve breaks and so does her heart.

Suddenly, a shadow passes between her and the fire branded sunrise. It is the silhouette of a man. It MUST be the gardener coming to tend to the property before the hot sun engulfs and wilts the plants. It must be someone who knows something about where Jesus has be taken. Once again, the question is asked of her, this time by the man standing silhouetted in front of her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?” Again Mary sniffles and forces out a tired, bitter response amidst her flowing tears “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

She is at the end of her strength.
She is beyond heart-sick.
At the very least this can be done – recovering Jesus’ body.

Then, something remarkable happens – the dead speaks.
The man before her says one word that brings water to a desert.
This one word means more than the content of thousands of words meticulously strewn together in a book.
He speaks this one word and the storms of mourning cease.
He speaks this one word and shattered pieces of her heart become whole again.
“MARY.”
In her weakest state she recognizes just who He is.
In her tear-blurred eyes and flood of grieving heart, she finds renewed strength in His presence.
She calls out to Him by His respected title – ““Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

Mary is overwhelmed with joy.
She is filled with relief.
The sun, now in its fuller light shines upon the son of God in all of His resurrected glory.
He is alive!
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I keep coming back to this story because often we too keep going to back to the empty tombs in our lives.
We keep coming up with the wrong conclusions.
Doubt casts its shadow upon our faith and it weighs heavily on us.
Doubt blurs our resolve and shakes our foundations of belief.
We stoop down into that tomb time and time again and we forget that we do not serve a dead-savior, but a risen one.
We need to look up and see Him.
We need to recognize our teacher.
We need to find Him once more for ourselves.
He wipes away our tears and longs for us to cry out to Him.

Will you?
Something more to ponder today.
To God be the glory!

January 29, 2015 0

The Right To Live And To Die: Brittany Maynard

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0eVum0weKg

Brittany has died.

It is not my intention to glamorize anything about death or the choice to die.
Life is worth living…
but what happens when the life you have is cut short by a terminal illness?
What then? I have a very hard time justifying suicide for anyone…but can we find fault in the search for dignity in death?

I look at the story of Brittany Maynard and her very difficult choice and I am saddened. No one should ever have to face the knowledge that they have an incurable, terminal illness. No one should ever have to face the knowledge that they only have months, even weeks to live. Yet millions do each day. Lives irrevocably changed. It boggles the mind.

Brittany Maynard chose to die while she still had the human faculties to remember her husband. She chose to die while she still had the capacity to speak. She chose to die while she still had the capacity to say goodbye. Did you catch that, SHE chose. I know I might receive a lot of heat from this, but I find it hard to equate her choice here to suicide when her life was utter agony and would soon end terminally anyway. I find it hard to see this kind of suffering continue. I don’t advocate suicide in any manner and even in this context it can become a very slippery slope in determining who and why one would choose this.

Yet…I mourn today.
I mourn for Brittany’s husband. I mourn for her family. This isn’t some sort of glamorized Hollywood movie, this is life…and death. This is visceral.

I believe in a mighty God whose capacity for grace and mercy far exceeds my own understanding of it. I believe in His ultimate healing for all afflicted lives and those who seek Him. Of these things I cling to, for He holds the keys to life and death. There is one thing that I do know, I am not the ultimate judge, God is and no one else can or should step into that role. Despite our comprehension of right or wrong and our understanding of even life and death, I don’t think that we truly know the answers beyond the veil on this side of heaven. What we can do, however, is to live our lives in such a way that others see Christ in us regardless of the circumstances that we face. Does living for Christ provide us answers to these troubling questions? Yes, Someday, but until then let’s be the best representation of God’s grace in a world that desperately needs that hope and Grace. -Just a thought.

Brittany Maynard Story

More to ponder…

November 3, 2014 0

The Right To Die…

Brittany Maynard is 29 and she has a terminal brain tumor.
She wants to die on November 1st. Her story can be found on most news sites today: Brittany Maynard Story

It is a sad situation. I cannot even begin to image someone so young facing the certainty of death at this point in life. My heart aches at this story.

Questions that I ponder today:
Is there dignity in death?
Are there times when doctor assisted euthanasia is appropriate?
How does faith fit into to all of this?
Can we reconcile our faith with a due date for death?

I have no answers for these ponderings today.
I mourn at Brittany’s difficult decision…but I honestly can’t see where her decision is wrong. Perhaps you might disagree with me, and that’s fine. I’ve been in the hospital rooms of the dying and the recently deceased. I’ve watched and witnessed what cancer can do to a body as it wastes away. There are fewer and fewer moments of clarity…fewer and fewer moments of “last words” while there is a lingering, painful death watch for the family to endure. Usually all that the doctors and nurses can do is make someone comfortable with pain medication and other such drugs. I can understand why Brittany doesn’t want her husband and family to go through that. I don’t think it’s selfish for her to consider this means to an end. I don’t believe in giving up hope. I do believe in miracles, but when in the face of death is there are right and wrong in the way one will meet the Father at the hands of knowledgeable doctors?

If faced with this similar decision, would I choose differently? I don’t know.
Would I want my family to suffer through the last stages of a horrific battle? Probably not. Would I want to end it before I’m too far gone? Probably.

Morality and Ethics:
I know what it means to assist with another person’s end of life decision. I understand the preservation and sanctity of human life. Yet in this case and cases like it I have to believe in a God of grace and understanding far beyond our own comprehension. There are no clear cut black and white answers here. I have to believe that life wasn’t supposed to be this way for anyone. We do live in a fallen world. We do live in a world wrought with incurable diseases and at times, hopeless situations. I am not arguing theology here, nor do I wish to debate the right or wrong of euthanasia or assisted suicide…I just wish to ponder the ins and outs of this specific sad, sad situation for Brittany.

I may not have any adequate answers for this equally complicated end of life situation, but I can tell you what kind of answers I do have. It makes me want to hold my kids and my wife a little closer. It makes me truly appreciate the time that I have on this earth a little more…and to not take it for granted. It brings the choices I make and how I treat others in this life (including my friends and family) that much more important.

My prayers go out to her, to her husband and her family. I cannot even begin to imagine what she is going through, but I do believe there is a God who loves her very much and longs to end her suffering with an eternal healing. My thoughts and prayers are with Brittany and the family today.

October 8, 2014 0