Man is like a mere breath. His days are like a passing shadow.
The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.
Life takes place in two parts—the part we experience here and the part we will live in eternity.
Career military serve for twenty to thirty years. But their basic training takes two months. In that brief period, they must master the routine of the military.
I sat, crossed-legged, in the Latrine in the dark, lights out. A small flashlight lit the floor in front of me as I shined my shoes. The First Sergeant opened the door. She pretended she didn’t notice the glow. I don’t know why. She took advantage of most opportunities to shame me.
If I’m Methuselah, and I live nine-hundred-sixty-nine years, my life remains a drop in the ocean of eternity–a passing shadow.
We live in basic training for our authentic life in eternity. We will experience everything more fully than our best days here. God blesses us with sunlight, wonderful food, music, work, and untold blessings we take for granted. Squad leaders don’t reward those under them. They plan to wash out the unworthy. God wants to wash “in” the unworthy.
I suffered from an ovarian tumor for ten years. The doctor who found it died soon after he examined me and I stayed away from doctors. What if the next doctor told me the same thing? If I ignore it, it doesn't exist.
Though my stomach grew and pain increased, I refused to accept that I had a problem. I became the elephant in the room no one mentioned. Finally I lay thrashing on my bed, unable to get up.
Many women with ovarian tumors see it turn to cancer. A slip of the knife on this thing might have ended my life. It weighed in at just under twenty pounds. Thankfully, the Lord provided a careful doctor. And it wasn’t cancerous.
Why did I go through such a terrible experience? Other than my own bad decisions. But I thank God for it. That tumor played a part in my salvation. All of us know we will die—someday—but death no longer loomed in the distance. It stood at my hospital door.
Without God’s basic training, I faced being washed out, looking at heaven from the pit, separated from Him forever.
His ways are not my ways. I can't explain the evil that others suffer. It's not my job to explain it. But I do know that God rules. Why do we spend so much time second-guessing Him?
Dear Lord, please help me remember that my real life is still to come. Let me cling to You and glorify You in trouble.