A Belated Thank You

“One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice.  He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him — and he was a Samaritan.  Jesus asked, ‘Were not all ten cleansed?  Where are the other nine?  Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ ”  Luke 17:15-18 (NIV)

Last week I fell off my bicycle.  I had actually been expecting it for a while.  Up until recently I used my bicycle as my main transportation, riding it to work, to my college classes, to the grocery store, and even to the doctor’s office once.  While I ride less now, it is usually for longer distances and along roads where the motorists drive too fast and might not even see a bicyclist.  I always figured that sooner or later I would take a tumble trying to avoid a full-on collision with an automobile.  It didn’t happen quite that way.

I was riding in Old Sacramento when it happened.  It was a silly mistake really.  I was riding parallel to some railroad tracks set into concrete.  I tried to cross over the tracks and didn’t take a strong enough angle between my tires and the tracks.  My front tire got caught against the rail and the bike went down from under me.  I went over the handle bars and my feet instinctively tried to run.  I just couldn’t run fast enough to get my feet under me and eventually I took a roll and came to rest on my hands and knees.

The palms on both my hands were scrapped up a little but I was feeling ok.  I got the chain back on the front gear and climbed back on my bicycle.  Then I rode the rest of the way to the store where I was headed and cleaned up in their bathroom the best I could.  I found what I had come to buy and returned home without any more incidents; my hands a little sore and my palms a little bloody but in otherwise good shape for flying off a bike.  Even at Friday evening prayer at Crossroads that night I didn’t think about it much, except to tell the story like some sort of hero.

It wasn’t until late that night, nearly ten hours after it happened that I stopped to think about the reality of my experience that day.  I could have landed a little different and broken an arm, or both arms.  I could have rattled my head inside my bike helmet and seen two of everything for a while.  I could have messed up my hands badly enough to make working at a computer, my livelihood, painful.  I could have broken the bike and had to walk home several miles.  A lot of things could have gone badly that afternoon.

It was during that realization of what could have been that I remembered I hadn’t talked to God about it.  So I got out of bed and got down on my knees to thank Him.  I should have shared with my friends at church how much God had done for me that day.  I should have prayed immediately after it happened to thank God for guardian angels.  I suppose it is good that I at least remembered to give thanks on the same day I was blessed.  I wonder how much more God would be able to bless me if I was quicker to give thanks and share His blessings with people around me.  Definitely something worth meditating about for a while.

[PhotoCredit:Marcin Wichary]

My Wandering Eyes

“Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.  But as for me, my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold.  For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.”  Psalms 73:1-3 (NIV)

There are times in life when it seems that people who do not follow God have the advantage over those doing their best to follow His commands.  I can remember only a few years ago when I very much wanted to live in a house instead of my tiny little apartment.  My place was frigid in the winter and blazing in the summer.  It was so small I couldn’t have a party unless half the people sat on my bed and the other half on my couch.  The real estate market was on fire and I couldn’t see how I would never be able to afford a home.

From time to time I would pray to God and blame Him for my situation.  There I was paying tithe off the top of my income, covering my expenses, and then saving every last dollar for a down payment.  Homes kept increasing in value and every month I got further and further behind in my goal to purchase a home.  I could look around at my coworkers and see that they had all bought a nice home, and none of them even knew what a tithe meant.  Why did I have to be faithful and miss out when so many others seemed to be ignoring God but getting along in life so much better than me?

 That mindset is a very dangerous place to be.  When things are going well, I look up to heaven and praise God for what He is doing.  When things are bad, I look up and ask God to please help me make it through the pain.  Surely trouble is right around the corner when I let my eyes wander and settle on the guy next door.  I start feeling sorry for myself and questioning whether following God is really making my life any better at all.  I forget all the blessings He has given me in the past, and all the painful situations we have survived together.  Instead, I start wishing I could be, well, less godly.

What I learn reading this scripture to the end of the chapter, is that God takes a much longer view than I do.  He says to me, don’t worry, in the end the godless will see their luxury collapse around them and they will have no where to turn.  In the meantime I have more to learn about praising God in the good times and coming to Him broken and in pain during the bad times.  So there it is, the lesson that keeps coming around again and again.  I still have more to learn about keeping my eyes on Jesus.

[PhotoCredit:Seven_Null7 & Amber Rhea]

My Place in Heaven

“In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”  John 14:2-3 (NIV)

Today I was driving on the 50 Freeway.  As I crested the bridge over the Sacramento River, a song on the radio prompted a very vivid picture in my imagination.  I don’t even remember what song was on the radio because the picture was just so real.  It lasted only a few moments, just long enough for tears to begin welling up in eyes.  Then it was gone, my emotions relaxed, and I was left to meditate on what I had just seen.

The picture I had seen was this: I was sitting in a room in heaven, sitting across from Jesus, and we were talking.  Rather, we were just sitting there without saying anything at all because I couldn’t think of what I should say when the King of the Universe is sitting on the other end of the couch from me.  It just blew me away to contemplate what it will be like someday when I sit across from Jesus.

I think most of us read the scripture and start thinking of all the things we will have and experience in heaven.  We like the old translation of the scripture that suggests each of us will have a mansion to ourselves.  We imagine what the outside of the mansion will look like.  We count the number of interior rooms.  We consider what color we would like the curtains to be and what kind of cake will be ever-present in the kitchen.

What I realize as I mediate on the picture that flashed in my mind, is that most of us think about heaven as if it were little more than the American Dream.  We imagine heaven will be for us everything that we denied ourselves on Earth in order to follow Jesus.  We think of all the things we didn’t get to have here and assume that heaven will be a big make-up so we can finally have what we deserve.  I am now fully convinced that thinking that way completely misses the point of what Jesus was saying.  The point is that we will be with Jesus.  Look at the end of the scripture and see how it ends.  Perhaps my picture of heaven says more about the state of my heart that I wish it did.  What about you?

[PhotoCredit:Refractionless & Proper Dave]

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