Closer to home, our own family's effort to seek God's will for our lives has brought us to the point of believing we are to move fifteen hours north to a part of the country that has nine months of winter, which means my husband will be leaving the steady job he has done for twenty-five years, leaving his three children behind, I will be leaving two of my children behind, I will be taking four of my children away from their father (I have sole custody, for some very good reasons, but I still feel mean taking them away from him) and neither one of us has confirmation of a job to date.
My health is improving overall, but it is a very slow process, and I am still so tired and sore. There are lots of setbacks, lots of going back to the starting point, lots of rerouting treatment plans. This disease affects each person uniquely, which means each person requires a unique treatment approach, so there is a lot of trial and error, lots of guesswork, and very litte certainty that any of it will actually work in the end.
Have we lost our minds??! As far as the world is concerned, yes. It would certainly appear that way.
This morning I was reading an article about the beheading of journalist James Foley by Islamic militants, and I watched a stilted statement made by him just prior to his murder. It got me thinking: what would I want to say to the world in those moments before being killed? Would I beg and plead for my life? Would I tell my family how much I love and treasure them? Would I condemn my captors and spew my fear and anger?
Begging for a stay of execution doesn't affect terrorists whose mission and goal is the annhilation and destruction of everything that is not Islam. It would gain me nothing, and would upset my loved ones greatly to think that I died terrified and frantic.
I hope that I have lived my life in such a way that my family would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved and treasured them to the very end, and that that knowledge would comfort them in my absence.
I have never cared to waste time condemning anyone. It only breeds hatred, and there is enough hatred in this world already. I never want my children to harbour hatred, and I feel strongly that it would be wrong for me to set that example. (Please do not confuse this for tolerance... there are many things in this world that should not be tolerated, glossed over or accepted. But letting hatred take root and control our actions is detrimental and soul-strangling.)
And then I remembered the words of a poem written by Elisabeth Elliot, the wife of martyred missionary Jim Elliot, who gave his life trying to reach the Auca tribe in Peru, and I knew that the sentiments she expressed are the cry of my heart, and that I would want them to be my testimony, my message to my loved ones, and the words engraved on my tombstone for all to see:
"Lord, give to me a quiet heart that does not ask to understand, but confident steps forward in the darkness guided by Your hand."
There is so much darkness in this world. So much pain, fear, hatred, anger. So much Satan. So little Jesus. And yet... He is still here, and longs to be seen by all who will open their eyes of faith and look for Him.
There is absolutely no doubt that Satan is the Prince of this world and the ruler of this age. But I have crowned another King over my life, and I refuse to recognize Satan's rule. Still, He is wrapped in beautiful things, desirable things, power, wealth, fame, luxury, comfort, and it is a daily battle to keep my eyes on my humble King, who makes no such promises in this life. Instead, He promises heartache, hardship, loneliness and struggle for those who choose to follow Him. He promises that the world will not accept us, that we will be hated, sometimes even by the family that we dearly love, and that we will be seen as weak and foolish by people whose eyes are on another ruler.
We do not make a choice to keep our eyes on Jesus because He promises comfort in this life. We choose to keep moving toward Him because we know that this life is just make-believe, practice for the life that is coming. We know this because when we first took that tentative step of faith and chose to believe He has provided a way for us to be acceptable to God, His spirit entered us and constantly prods us to keep looking to Him. By keeping our eyes on the King we have chosen to rule our lives, we will be able to more clearly see the path we should take. The ruler we choose to keep our eyes turned to is the one that will direct our path. Choose wisely. Contrary to what the world says, it is the destination that counts much more than the journey.
When we take a long journey and arrive at our final destination, what a joy it is to see our loved ones there, after a time of being apart from them! It is the same way when our destination is heaven. Our greatest joy will be in seeing our loved ones there. For this reason, and knowing that my final words would be replayed in the minds of my husband and children for years to come, I would want the last thing I said to be reassurance that I was confident in my salvation, and that I would be waiting to meet them at the gates of heaven when they arrived.
If you were the one kneeling in front of a video camera with an executioner standing ready to remove your head, what would you want your last words to be?
"For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." --- 1 Corinthians 1:18
