Paradise Restored

Much of my recent reading reminds me that paradise will not be merely regained, but restored. Restored to a better than original state. The word "restored" even seems an inadequate description. Perhaps "recreated" or "renewed" better captures the concept of not simply a return to the original, but a remaking that surpasses the original.

Today's Tabletalk devotional on Revelation 21:1-22:5 reminds me that our existence will not be merely ethereal, but a fulfulling physical existence of glorified bodies in a new creation that has undergone "cosmic renewal." This final paradise will be much better than Eden not only because sin will never enter, but also because it will be more bountiful and our fellowship with the Lord will be far more intimate.

Reading the last chapters of Revelation can only make you wonder: how did anyone ever come up with the popular picture of winged people playing harps on clouds?

Doing the Next Thing

Having just returned from an instense business trip and finding myself feeling a bit more overwhelmed than usual, I am reminded (as I so often am) of Elisabeth Elliot's marvelous advice: "Do the next thing."

Her wise counsel has often helped me through difficult times of suffering as well as stressful times of work. It's easy to allow anxiety to gain entrance into my life, but Elisabeth's sage advice effectively ejects it.

The transcript of the Gateway to Joy broadcast in which Elisabeth tells how she learned the principle from her mother and relates a poem containing the maxim appears here.

I used to enjoy hearing her broadcasts when they were available in our area and a friend and I once drove about 100 miles through a snowstorm to hear her speak. When the audience applauded her remarks, Elisabeth put her hands together and directed them upward to indicate that all the glory belonged to the Lord.

As I read the Gateway to Joy broadcast transcript, I hear the deliberate pace of Elisabeth's gentle voice speak directly to me. And I see her hands raised in prayerful praise to God.

The Bright and Morning Star

When I get up on clear mornings, my spirit is pierced by the beauty of a single bright star throbbing like a living diamond in the dark pre-dawn sky. It always reminds me of Christ, the bright and morning star.

This is an appellation that Christ gave Himself with His penultimate words to believers: “I, Jesus, have sent my angel to testify to you about these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star” (Rev. 22:16). An earlier use of the same title also clearly refers to Christ (Rev. 2:28).

The context of these terms in the book of Revelation creates an association with Christ’s victorious return and believers' share in that victory. In More Than Conquerors, William Hendriksen writes, “As the morning star rules the heavens, so believers will rule with Christ; they will share in His royal splendour and domination. The star is always the symbol of royalty, being linked with the scepter (Nu. 24:17; cf. Mt. 2:2)” (p. 73).

In one of the most delightful moments of Old Testament history, Balaam is unable to curse Israel, but instead prophesies of the coming King of Kings:

I see him, but not now;
I behold him, but not near:
a star shall come out of Jacob,
and a scepter shall rise out of Israel; (Nu. 24:17a).

The star that signifies Christ’s birth very literally fulfills that prophecy and brings the first adoration from the nations to His feet. That star and the brilliance of the angels above the shepherds' fields faded, but God in His great mercy has hung a more permanent star in the heavens to remind His people of Christ’s second advent when all the nations will worship at His feet.

That star pierces the darkness of our pre-dawn existence and rekindles the hope of His return. Maranatha! Come quickly, Lord!

One Talent

For years I was busy with the important work of raising our four children. I'd always longed to write, but I believed that if I honored God by focusing on my maternal calling while my children were young, He would provide another avenue of service in His perfect timing.

Like a skilled surgeon, God used circumstances to cut some things out of my life. I didn't know that I was in surgery and it was a painful process, but those experiences allowed me to begin writing for God.

I felt as if I'd finally dug up my meager talent and put it to work in His Kingdom.

It was a great feeling of liberation, but I am very conscious of the fact that I'm only a one-talent writer in a world of many two-talent and five-talent writers.

Sometimes I wonder about if things had been different -- if I had completed my education and begun writing as a young adult, if I had continued writing during my childrearing years -- wouldn't I be a much better writer? wouldn't I have achieved some status? wouldn't I have accomplished more for Christ's Kingdom?

When these thoughts cross my mind, I ask myself: Do you believe God is sovereign or not?

That alone ought to be sufficient for me to shut my mental mouth, but God reminds me that all of my experiences and the wisdom He's imparted to me over the years contribute to the writer I am now.

So instead of thinking of myself as struggling to find my writing voice, I dust the dirt off my one-talent and put it to work.

The Blame Game

My morning devotions from Ligonier's Tabletalk reminded me how our first parents tried to shirk responsibility for their actions by blaming their sin on someone else.

Adam even dared to suggest that it was all God's fault; after all, it was God who gave Adam the woman in the first place. And Eve isn't much better, spouting the original version of "The devil made me do it."

This morning I was struck anew by how this "blame game" is such a universal characteristic of human nature. I have often been amazed by how well I can identify with the foibles of human nature portrayed in the writings of Early American poets, Victorian novelists, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and even classical Roman authors. But this is going as far back as one can go, to the very first man and woman on earth.

And their response when confronted with their sin is remarkably similar to my own.

Fringe Benefits

I’m on the edge of many communities, but a part of none.

I write for a magazine, but I’ve never visited the office or met the editor.

I work for a seminary, but I rarely visit and am not considered part of that community.

I work for a church, but have little interaction with its leaders or staff members.

I’m enrolled at a university, but I know no other students and have never met any of my string of advisers.

I grew up on a farm, but I’m not a farm girl. I live on a wooded acreage some miles distant from the two nearest towns. My phone is associated with one and my address with the other.

I write a lot of short nonfiction pieces every month, but I also dabble in short fiction and poetry. I work by myself in my home office, so I’m not part of any kind of writing community.

I have several friends of different ages with various backgrounds and interests, but they all move in separate circles and I’m not a part of any.

I enjoy spending time with my sisters and daughters, but neither my immediate or extended family is particularly close.

I’m not part of any close-knit community. I’m not part of a loosely knit community. I’m not even part of a crocheted community. I’m just a knotted tassel on the fringe.

But perhaps that isn’t entirely a bad thing. Perhaps there’s a benefit to being on the fringe.

Feeling as if I’m not a member of these communities keeps me from becoming too attached to this present world, which—I remind myself—is not my home.

And the feeling reminds me that I am part of the only community that matters: the eternal community of Christ’s Church.

Ground Hog Day

Today is Ground Hog Day. If the ground hog sees his shadow, he’s supposed to be frightened back into his hole and there will be six more weeks of winter.

For the record, I do not believe in superstitious stuff like the actions of a ground hog being an accurate weather predictor. I believe in a sovereign God who created and continues to sustain all things, and who guides and directs all events of cosmic and world history, including climate and weather.

I think few people actually believe in the ground hog legend, but they like to have fun noting the sunshine on February 2 and conjecturing about how much winter remains. It seems that people think it would be too bad if the ground hog saw his shadow, but I’ve always felt like only six more weeks of winter would be great. What if it’s cloudy and he doesn’t see his shadow? We could have winter weather into April! At least if he sees his shadow there’s a definitive end to winter.

That's sort of the thinking behind my decision to take Finite Math for my math requirement a few years ago. At least the name implies that there is an end to it.