Heaven, Hell and Other Life-Affirming Things

     I have been thinking about death lately.  Having just lost a friend and now another friend has informed me of her husband's passing, it is just one of those subjects that is a little hard to ignore.  I thought about the unfairness of death--how it takes those we love away from us.  I came up with "The Unfairness of Death List."  Here goes:

1.  Life is like jumping from a plane with no parachute.  It's exhilarating at first...with the wide blue sky above and the earth far below.  But, as you get older/closer, you realize, hey, there’s no parachute and then comes the big splat—nothing.

2.  Mr. Job of the Old Testament.  He suffers utter loss:  everyone and everything is gone.  His suffering is tremendous and his loss horrible.  How could you not just sit under a tree with him and simply weep?

3.  Life is quite like that cruise ship that sank awhile back.  Everyone plans to have a good life, gets ready and sets sail.  Then this cruise ship ran aground and sank, killing the passengers.  The ones who survived felt (among other things) totally misled:  this was to be a glorious time; instead, many perished.  Life can feel as if we have been gypped.  Duped.  Betrayed.

4.  Death is like a criminal.  It is the ultimate thief:  you set up a beautiful house, reputation, wealth, only to have death break in and steal it.  Jesus observed the irony of placing too much emphasis on things that can be destroyed: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."  (Matthew 6:19-21)

5.  Life is not a cabaret, old chum.  Think of the wealthy people who spend a lifetime acquiring money, sometimes to do real good in the world.  Ted Turner owns 20% of American bison on his huge estate in Wyoming.  He is trying to preserve this important part of our nation's history.  But:  all of that wealth will be gone the day he dies.  How unfair it is to work your whole life, only to walk out with nothing.  My father, who grew up rather poor, spent his whole life trying to get ahead, only to die of cancer.  

6.   Those who die leave us alone.  We will never see our loved ones again.  What?  Our relationships are so important and is that really the end?  To see those we love only to turn to dust?  What if we cannot be by the bedside and say good-bye?  Or there is no body to bring home, mourn and then bury?  Unfair, unfair, unfair.

     Now, let's think about Hell.  How unfair! Wait a minute, though...what if there was NO hell?  

1.  What about those who escape earthly justice?  Hitler killed himself in his bunker before the Russian troops got to where he was.  Himmler, his right hand man, killed himself as well, thereby avoiding trial.  What about these mass shooters who will never go court, having been shot down in a gun battle with police?  The rapist who goes to trial but is not convicted for lack of evidence?  The child molester who never gets caught and then dies...leaving behind an emotional debris trail of broken lives and murdered innocence?  Death for these folks is a kind of escape, away from the judgment of our law.  

     Now, let's think about if there was NO heaven.

1.  Where do the innocent go?  1.3 million children perished in the Holocaust.  Millions have died in abortion, famines, disease, murder and neglect.  It is unfair when a child is buried by a parent.  That is not the order of things.  

2.  It is hard to let someone go, but if you truly believe you will never see them again, would some of us not be as invested in the ones we love?  Our attachment would be limited because our time with them would be limited?

3.  Someone dies in agony.  That's it.  They checked off the planet in pain, only to go into the cold ground.  They are beyond our comfort and the cold earth is inhospitable.  My grandmother did fairly well at the funeral of my grandfather, until after the funeral was over, the caretakers started lowering his casket into the ground.  She burst into tears, fearing it would be too cold for him in the ground.  Her children led her away from the cemetery in tears.

     OK:  let's turn this around.  The very presence of heaven and hell affirm life here.  I contend that without them, life's unfairness is far too overwhelming to contemplate for very long.  Let's see how hell affirms life here and later on:

1.  God doesn't send people to hell.  It's a choice that they have made.  If someone doesn't love God here, why would He grab that person at their death and force them to live with Him forever?  It would be a kind of divine rape:  violating the heart of someone who didn't want to be with God on earth but has to endure Him for eternity is appalling.  Love by definition cannot be forced, and God will not force Himself on us.  Hell is the place people choose to go by their beliefs and the behaviors that result.  They lived a life without God here and thus they will live an eternal life without Him there.

2.  For those who escaped earthly judgement will find a Higher Court of Law is in session.  The judgment will be fair and impartial because the Judge is that way.  No technicalities, no dream team of lawyers working the system for the benefit of the defendant.  God Himself will be the standard:  fiercely loving but fiercely just.

     How does heaven affirm life here and later on?

1.  The blind will see, the lame will walk.  There are no wheelchairs in heaven.  Completely restored, free to laugh, dance and sing, all pain and agony there forgotten, we cannot help but rejoice for those who leave.  

2. The children will gather around Jesus and He will bless them. He blessed them here without reservation; there will be no different: "But Jesus said, 'Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.'" (Matthew 19:14)  Jesus' lap is big enough for all.
3.  We will see our loves ones again.  But there is a "but"--they need to know Jesus.  This means we will invest not only our love in them but we will pray, share and encourage them about the life to come.  We will raise our children with eternity in mind; we will "preach the Gospel at all times, using words only when necessary."  Life is precious and so is eternity.  
4.  When death takes away our loved ones, we say, "Until we meet again."  We won't say, "Good-bye."

     Now, what about heaven?  Heaven is a place of praise. Why? "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Rev. 21:4). All our needs are met, no tragedy to pray through—our lives are now truly centered in just Him. That’s why death-bed confessions don’t bother Jesus—it is better to launch into an eternity with Him, than live a full life and then leave it for an eternity without Him. 
     Heaven and hell affirm life: life has more in store than just what is on this planet.  Suffering will be over, justice will be served, and fairness will reign over all:  "I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there. The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it. Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life."  (Rev. 21:22-27).

Weeds 101

     I spent almost an hour and a half pulling weeds this evening.  It has grown cooler recently in the mountains, and I enjoyed being out in the sunshine and the wind.  Unfortunately, once I got started, I didn't realize how long it would take me.  A lot of weeds had sprung up recently, and the rains we have had certainly didn't help.
     While I was pulling weeds, I had quite a bit of time to think about them.  Funny, isn't it?  When you are doing a task, it is easy to either think about other things, or the task at hand.  I decided that weeds had some lesson to teach me--they are mentioned in the Bible and clearly have some kind of application.  So, here is what I have learned from our uninvited guests.

1. Weeds are not part of God's original design.
     They result from the curse and if you have a garden, you have no doubt of this truth. Because of Adam's choice to disobey God, weeds are invaders to God's Creation. God says to Adam:  “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.'" (Genesis 3:17-18)
Weeds are a constant reminder of Adam's choice to sin against God.  As Adam's sons and daughters, we are not allowed to forget that sin came into the world through disobedience.  
2.  Weeds are part of the soil and their seeds are everywhere.  They serve to remind us that sin is as well.
     Sin, once it entered the Creation, permeates everything.  A day doesn't go by without something terrible happening.  Historians say that in 4,500 years of man's history, there has only been a total of 200 years of peace.  So, conflict and war, murder and mayhem, suffering and sadness seem to be everywhere and affect everyone.   
     As Paul observes, "We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time." (Rom. 8:22).  We feel the weight of sin as well as Creation itself. 
3.  We may not constantly plant weeds, yet they show up all the time.  
     We may not engage in particularly bad sins, yet we are never free from sin's pull, either.   Maybe we are tempted all the time and yet wonder why we are so afflicted.  Sin is part of who we are and the sooner we recognize this, the sooner we know we need a Savior:  "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).
4.  We ignore the little sins and worry about the big ones, forgetting that all sins start small.
     I was tempted only to pull out only the large weeds.  They were the most ugly and obvious.  The little ones are hardly noticeable, and yet, where did I think the big ugly ones came from? 
     Any sin in our lives needs to be pulled.  It is far easier to walk away from a sin with a tiny root, than to pull out a well-established one.  In fact, the well-established weeds had sharp thorns or sticky sap that made them hard to pull out and they hurt my hand as I did so.  So, I tried to get all the little ones as well.  
     The deepest roots should be Christ in us, not sin.   "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ."  (Col. 2:6-8).
5.  Weeds thrive on the same things that plants thrive on:  water, sun and soil.
     Sin doesn't just happen.  It needs to be watered (we act on it), it needs sun (we give it our attention and time) and it needs soil (we allow it to grow, thinking we can leave it be at any time).  Of course, weeds are a counterfeit plant--some even look nice and yet will not only take over other plants, but destroy them.  Sin is a counterfeit joy--it looks nice and we are deceived into thinking we are in control.  Not so-- the weed of sin  eventually chokes off the life within us and sometimes we realize how deceived we are, after much damage.   
     But that is why God sent His Son:  to remind us that we cannot weed our own garden:  "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."  (Ephesians 2:8-10).
     In order to have a healthy garden or to keep our yard looking nice, we need to keep watch over the weeds.  Sin is no different:  without an admission of our need for a Savior and an everyday dependence on Him, we can too soon forget how nasty sin's weeds are and how quickly they take over.
     One final note:  Idaho has truly one of the nastiest weeds on the planet.  They are called Puncture Weeds or Goat Head Weeds.  They are ground creepers and spread out very quickly.  They have these very evil seeds that will puncture a bicycle tire or your foot.  You can't just reach down and pull them out because the seeds really hurt your hand.  I had to rake them and cut them right at the base of the stem.  I then used the rake to drag them over the side of a small embankment on our property.  
     My point?  No one will ever celebrate the goat head weed.  And yet today, sin is being celebrated as worthy of our attention and imitation.  Each generation has its obvious goat heads--those things that we were taught vigorously to avoid.  Sadly today, the most harmful weeds are being promoted as "transgressive" and "edgy."  But a goat head by any other name will puncture your skin and cause pain.  Sin by any other name will destroy and leave a scattering of broken lives in its wake.   
     Remember:  Satan will never advertise sin as slavery.  He promotes it as freedom.  God's Word is our field guide to sin and we must never doubt God loves us enough to tell us to avoid even the most beguiling of weeds.  This is the goat head weed as it starts out:  kind of lovely, huh?

This is what the goat head will put forth later on as it grows.  This is when the goat head reveals its true self.  Sin is no different.

Be a Sonflower

The days are dry.  The grasses that sway in the afternoon breezes are straw-like:  lightweight, brittle and snap at a touch.  The hills are beige, the grass is beige and the only green is sported by the grayish sage brush that grows in clumps here and there.  The skies are a hazy gray with a light touch of blue.  The sun rises an angry orange and the heat is oppressive, enveloping you when you walk outside.

Yet, despite the heat, the muted colors and the smokey skies, we are beseiged this summer...with sunflowers.  They are everywhere.

They dance in the sparsely grassed fields.

They line the roads, nodding as you drive by.

They do their best to decorate the burned trees from last year's fire.

They rejoice with the new growth that has since sprung up since that fire.

They add a much needed splash of lemon yellow to a dreary land.

They are not in a beautifully tended garden.  They are everywhere there's some soil and sunlight.

I have been enjoying the lesson I am learning from them this week.  They are an excellent example for me in my walk with Christ.  I need to dance in the joy He provides and the hope He alone can offer--where it is the most sparse is where the dance is needed the most.  I have a joy and hope that I can display to others--not for their approval of me, but to start a conversation about why I am dancing: "In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."  (Matthew 5:16)

I need to be where others are--along the roads of life.  I must acknowledge my fellow travelers on this planet, and try to catch their eyes with a smile.  We are the most lonely in a crowd because others fail to even look at us. 

Many lives have been scorched by sin, sadness and separation.  If I can hurt with someone, pray with someone and share with someone, I will be showing how Jesus has "decorated" my life: "Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Gal. 6:2).

The love of Jesus, flowing out of me, can reach people in a way that mere words cannot: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (1 Cor. 13:4-8)  


In a dreary landscape, where people's hearts and minds are burdened with so much, a splash of kindness, of love, provides much needed color. 

Finally, Jesus' love in us shouldn't only be expressed in church.  That's the easy part--God's garden is clean, neat, full of smiles and seeming simplicity.  We need to take Jesus' love outside the garden, into the dry dusty fields of this world, relying on His soil and sunshine to make a difference.

Our world is in the long dry days of summer, with fires burning out of control.  Solution?  Be a Sonflower.

The Church of One? or ONE?

     Ah, the hummingbirds at my feeder.  They are a never-ending source of faith lessons.  This summer, we have had one very insistent black-chinned hummingbird who staked out the feeder in early in the season, and would not allow any other hummingbird to drink from it.  Last summer, we had a bunch of hummies coming and going but this summer, not so much.  
     This male would sit in the Russian olive tree and guard the feeder.  He would wait and wait and as soon as any other hummie came along...SWOOSH!  He would dive-bomb that bird and then fly back into the tree and resume his guard duty.  Occasionally, a female (his mate?) would come and drink, but I noticed that even females would be driven off and after a while, no other birds would be present.
     Did he drink from the feeder?  Yes, occasionally, but the vast majority of his time was spent guarding the feeder.  It's lonely at the top.  Obviously, this bird has commandeered this feeder as his own.  Despite the fact it's a "public" feeder, his behavior speaks volumes about how he views our feeder.  Oh, excuse me...HIS feeder.
     How often do we go to church and have the mentality of this wee bird?  We walk in and wonder if we will "like" the church.  In other words, what are we going to get out of it?  We notice other folks and look at their clothes/their way of talking/their friendliness (or the lack thereof) and make a judgment.  Then it's the music (too loud?  too hymmie?  too modern? too slow?)  and then here comes the pastor.  Hawaiian shirt?  Suit?  Jeans?  Cool shoes?  Flip-flops?  Then the sermon...
     You get the idea.  We are constantly monitoring our reaction and how we see the goings-on.  If any one of the aforementioned categories are lacking or are irritating, we decide that this church isn't for us.
     But, back to our hummie.  By the time we have driven away the people, the music and the pastor, it leaves just us...we become the Church of One.  Louis XIV (a very arrogant king of France) once said, "L'etat, c'est moi" ("The state is me.")  Do we have the same idea (although unlike Mr. Satin Pants, we wouldn't parade around saying so) that "L'eglise, c'est moi"--"The church is me."  It's all about how I react to what I see.  But, after much church hopping/shopping, we find it's lonely at the top.  
     Solution?  "Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching."  (Hebrews 10:23-25).  Why were the readers of this letter forsaking gathering together?  Perhaps they believed that Jesus would return any day now, and they thought, why bother?  Yet, the writer gives compelling reasons to meet together:  love, encouragement and hope.  
     Wow!  How are those wonderful things achievable?  By getting to know one another well enough to engage in their lives, and they in mine.  If I am flitting about from church to church, I will not get to know people well enough to really enter into fellowship with them.  "Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Gal. 6:2).  Isn't it interesting that the only "law" we are to follow is loving one another?  Our love will be the biggest witness of all about Who Jesus is: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-5).
     So, if we want the church to not be the Church of One, but the Church of ONE, what to do?  These are some compelling hallmarks of a "good" (that is, Biblical) church:
1.  The Bible is preached in its fullness:  Verses are not cherry-picked out and the emphasis is on His Word, not story-telling, psychology or personal narrative.  We are confronted with His Word, and our hearts are convicted.  God's Word, is by definition, confrontational:  "For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." (Heb. 4:12).   The Word is the very foundation of His Church, for it tells of the ONE Who died to make this life in Him even possible.  The Word ultimately is sufficient:

"All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work."  

2.  Love:  Is it really offered?  Are people genuinely concerned for you?  But, equally, can you offer love and have it well received? 

     That's it.  The rest--music, Hawaiian shirts, shoes--pale in comparison to a gathering of believers who sincerely seek the Word, and walk in His love.  Our life in Him is lived in community--with Him and with each other. 

That same Russian olive tree last winter is a much better "church."  More challenging (you mean I have to get along with all of you?)  but in the end, more of what He had in mind.

We Are ALL a Work-in-Progress

     By the late summer, living in the high desert, the color options are a tad limited: we have a generous array of browns, beige, sage green, some spring greens and a dash of yellow (wild sunflowers) and a lovely spot of blue (thank you, chicory).  So to have a lazuli bunting show up to the feeder is a cause for celebration!

     They are an astonishing combination of rusty red and a lovely blue.  I had never seen such birds before I moved to Idaho--I am used to the Western blue bird.  It has the same basic color combination, but in northern California, I wasn't so eager for bright color.  Leaving near the coast, I filled my color quotient daily!  I do love Idaho, but by the end of summer, the rather sedate color scheme needs a bit of encouragement and the buntings are made to order.  The other day, one showed up that was not quite so inspiring:

     Then, it hit me:  it's a baby!  This little guy is on his way to getting his beautiful plumage, but he's not there yet.  I just assumed that buntings are always beautiful.  
     What a profound thought as we walk with our fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord:  we assume that they will always be beautiful:  kind, loving, patient, reflecting Jesus.  And yes, many are on their way to getting their beautiful "plumage":  they really want to reflect the Lord's work in their lives.  But what happens when they have a bad day?  How do they act if they are tired/upset/angry/disappointed?  Then the "plumage" isn't so lovely to behold.  They are a bit raggedy as they show up to our feeder.  Are we then rather judgmental?  "Hey, you love the Lord!  You should always reflect that!"  
     But let's reverse this, and I become the bird.  I show up raggedy to the many feeders I visit, and I wouldn't want someone to look out of their kitchen window and say, "Wow!  Look at her--she isn't a beautiful blue like all Christians should be."  I would want to turn around and say, "I am having a bad day.  I would like more beautiful plumage, and I believe I am on my way there, but today is not a good day."  In other words, I would like a little mercy for my less than pleasurable shade of Christian blue.
     I believe that's what the "judge not, lest you be judged" scripture is all about.  Let's look at the passage:
    
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye"  (Matthew 7:1-5).  

     I apply the Golden Rule to this, and by reversing it, I think we get to the heart of the matter.  We like to judge:  we look out our kitchen windows and notice how blue or not blue others are, and in doing so, we feel superior.  The focus shifts from our inadequacies to those of others and for a moment, we can feel our blue is best.  So, while we do the judging, we want JUSTICE.
     Now, by reversing it, we are the ones being judged.  We are well aware of our inadequacies and someone pointing them out to us is not a surprise to us.  We are very aware of the specks in our eyes.  They itch and burn and keep us from clear vision about ourselves.  So, when we are being judged, we want MERCY.  We want people to understand us and our needs and hope that they can find some leniency in their hearts.  In other words, we hope that they find some compassion for us and our raggedy blue.
    But, if the standard is not me by which I judge, but Jesus, suddenly all of our blues need time to reach their fullest beauty.  We are humbled by Jesus' brilliant blue, and so my blue is not better than my brother's or sister's.  
     We are all a work in progress:  Paul could confidently say about his fellow believers that he was "confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6).  So, next time someone less than blue shows up (or maybe it's you that less than blue!) remember:  we are all under the skillful training of Christ and it takes time.  It's little wonder that patience is one of the fruits of the Spirit:  we so need it for ourselves and others!

HEY! Who Moved My Feeder?

     In a word, "wow."  This has been quite the busy last few weeks.  Once again, the hummingbirds have provided a good parallel to what I have gone through.  Let's start with them.

     Originally, my hummingbird feeder was attached to my kitchen window.  The benefits were many:  I could get an up close and personal view of the hummies as they fed; I could take good pictures of them; and it is always a treat to watch their amazing wings finally fold--if only for a few seconds--as they lower their beaks into the feeder.  They look around with sweet but anxious faces and their little feet cling to the feeder and then WHOOSH, they are gone.  Hummies are like a shooting star--if you're not looking carefully, you will miss them.

     So my feeder allowed me to watch my "shooting stars."  But there is one problem.  The high winds we have up on our hill means the feeder may blow off and hit the ground, or all of the sugar-water splashes out, leaving a sticky mess on the window.  

    So, after the last storm, I moved the feeder to the raised bed.  Oh my, did I cause a ruckus in the hummies'world.  One particular male--a black-chinned hummingbird--was especially irked.  He flew several times up to the kitchen window, hovering and looking in.  He had the "HEY!  Where's my feeder?" look in his wee birdie eyes.  He kept flying around and was joined by a few equally confused? irked? female hummies.  I was waiting for a phone call from their lawyer--a loud humming sound over the phone would be a dead giveaway.  Yet, the feeder isn't that far from its original site--I moved it only about ten feet.  It is still full of yummy sugar-water.  Nothing has really changed in my mind--same feeder, same water, just a different spot.  But to the hummies?  Everything has changed.
     And so onto my world.  My husband, for the last few years, has had occasional shortness of breath.  His doctor attributed it to the cold dry air.  He was getting increasingly tired.  We attributed that to getting older.  Then, last month, he was afflicted with a kidney stone, whose pain sent him into the ER and into a procedure to blast it away.  It was 7 millimeters, so he wasn't going to pass it for love nor money.  In the course of all the tests being run in the ER to determine what was wrong, the nurses noticed his heart sounded funny.  So, after the procedure for the stone, we now switched gears to understand why his heart sounded odd.
     Long blog short:  his aortic valve needed replacing.  My husband is only 56, so we were a bit shocked.  It is either a congenital defect or the result of a high fever he suffered as a young child.  Either way, the doctor said that surgery was the only option.  Wow.
     Thankfully, it was not the open-heart kind of surgery--the doctor would put in the valve via an incision.  So, one week ago, my husband went in and had the valve replaced, and is slowly but surely, recovering.  We really had our feeder moved:  one minute we are enjoying the summer and then WHOOSH:  kidney stone, angiogram, and then heart surgery.  
     I flew up to my Lord's kitchen window and looked in.  I wasn't angry--just perplexed.  But I am thankful, for without the kidney stone and the resulting tests, Clayton may have found out about his wonky heart in more of an emergency situation.  I am thankful I have my Lord's kitchen window available to fly up to; I cannot imagine facing those long hours in the corridors and waiting rooms of the hospital alone.  Our family and friend have been lovely--prayers, emails, cards and lots of love have come our way.  But having your feeder moved is never easy.
     What have I learned?  A few things:
1.  Feeders get moved:  Sometimes we are privy to why, but most often we are faced with a challenge with no easy answers.  And yet, Jesus is standing there, moment by moment.
2.  Jesus uses people to speak to us--a stranger, a loved one, a distant friend.  Allow Jesus to use those around you to be His hands and feet.
3.  Trust that a moved feeder is not an absent feeder:  Jesus is still Lord, He still loves us and is still bringing beauty from ashes: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  (Romans 8:28).  Notice something here:  not everything is good that happens, but God can transform the negative into the good.  Only He can do that and trust Him to do so.
4.  God is speaking, whenever you and feeder are.  He is never absent:  "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Deut. 31:6).
     Feeders move, but "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." (Heb. 13:8).
     God is good.