Just Spiders, Don't Worry

Thursday and Friday I was at a rural school doing a project with a local group. That evening I stayed with some friends in a village nearby. We had a delightful evening including these amazing little biscuits that were halfway between a pancake and a sugar cookie. Mmm!

When it was sufficiently late we fetched the spare bed from the porch and brought it into the living room so I could sleep in the relative warmth of the house. As we moved it I noticed a cluster of spikey-looking pods in one corner of the frame.

I asked my host about it and he said "Oh yeah, those are just spider eggs."

Great. Since he didn't seem the slightest bit bothered, I obviously couldn't tarnish my manliness by saying anything to display my lack of appreciation for the arachnid class.

I turned off the lights and started thinking about the baby spiders lounging less than 2 feet from my head. The odds were good that they would just stay in their cozy little eggs. But what if the sudden presence of my body heat encouraged them to emerge and explore the new world while I slept? Might that exploration include my mouth? I had a brief mental image of waking up and finding myself covered with a hundred tiny black spiders.

But I steeled my mind, cherished the thought of telling my death-defying story at a later date, and went blissfully to sleep.

I'm happy to report that I was still alive when I woke up the next morning.

Package from home

...loaded with candy!

It also had some really neat pictures from when I was little, which I won't be posting so as to halfheartedly preserve my anonymity. Actually it is because I went through all the effort of taking pictures of the pictures and then accidentally deleted them right afterward. Doh!

There were also some very encouraging and thoughtful little cards.

Thank you to my family. I love you!

Preparing for Heaven while on Earth

It has struck me recently that the purpose of our time on Earth must be growth. Think about it. For the first 9 months of life we do nothing but grow. It must seem like a very long 9 months for the baby in the womb. He can not even remember the beginning of it because his brain was not yet formed. All he knows now is a faint glow that darkens at strange intervals, sounds from far off, and strange movements that he can't explain. Will this go on forever? What is the purpose for all of it?
Fortunately we are born before our brains have developed advanced reasoning capabilities or half of us would be raving lunatics when we came out.

The purpose of this entire period is growth, preparation for life in the world. Although it seems long at the time, it is only a short part of the average human life. If you live past 75, your time in the womb is less than 1% of your total time on earth.

Now lets look at our total time on earth, which we consider to be an eternally long time when we are 10 and maybe not so long when we are 20 and actually not long at all when we are 40 and really short when we are 80. Let's compare that to eternity.

In light of all that time, why would God bother putting us on earth for an eyeblink if it served as nothing but a chance for us to "do our own thing" before we pick up our harps in heaven? There has to be a connection. Somehow, what we do and what happens to us here on Earth must be connected to our everlasting existence elsewhere.

Obviously, as Christians we believe that the eternal fate of our soul depends on how we respond to Jesus's action here, in our little world. But more than that, I want to suggest that everything we do will influence who we are and how we will live in eternity. I believe that we are here to grow.  Just like a baby in the womb, we are expected to mature and to increase in our capacity so that, when we enter the bigger and wider world, we are ready to embrace the challenge and make the most of it.

Heaven is a bigger world. It isn't eternal retirement and it isn't a giant nursery in the clouds. It's the Real World,  a place of growth and development and challenge as we seek innovative ways to bring glory to the King of the Universe.

Grace

(This was written a week ago but I couldn't connect to the internet so I am posting it now)

Last night I was reading where Paul was talking about how he considers all gain to be loss compared to joy of knowing Christ, and tonight when I downloaded the free song of the week from www.kingsway.uk I found that the chorus of this week's song is a remake of an older hymn-

"when I survey the wondrous cross
on which the prince of Glory died
my richest gain I count but loss
and pour contempt on all my pride"

It's interesting... late last week I was reading in James about pride, how it is the enemy of unity and leads to every kind of evil and discord. Then I was reflecting on the juxtaposition of an infinitely awesome yet intimately active God. Then I was reading some passages that focused on faith- how fixing our eyes on God helps us to follow in trust even when our situation seems hopeless.

This simple chorus sums up all those ideas.

Jesus was God. Beyond our greatest powers of imagination or logic or speculation. Infinitely more wise, powerful, and beautiful than anything we have ever encountered. He chose to become a man and die with his hands and feet nailed into two blood-soaked planks. He did that to reconcile me to God.

How could anything possibly be more important or valuable to me than that relationship? It's unthinkable. And where is there any room for pride? Who am I to boast about anything, I who am weak and sinful and mean? The thought of it is sickening. I am nobody, but God chose me. I deserve nothing but He gave everything. All I can do in return is offer a humble and joyful "Hallelujah!"

Have thine own way, Lord. Thou art the potter, I am the clay.

Lighthouse visit

On Saturday I had a very unique opportunity. I got to crawl inside a lightouse, in between the light and the lens.

Here is a video:



At the beginning of the film the tour guide is telling us about the modernization of the lighthouse.

When the lighthouse was built in the mid 18s, the lens was turned by the force of gravity slowly pulling a counter-weight down a two-story tube. Every two hours the lighthouse keeper had to crank the weight back up to the top so it could descend again and keep the lens turning. Today the lens (still the same one installed in the 1800s) is turned by an electric motor.

Back in the day the lamp was gas. Today it is a halogen bulb the size of a hot dog.

And yet, despite the modernization, the lighthouse still serves the same vital role that it has for more than one hundred years.  Light is precious, especially to those who are lost. The method may change, the equipment may change, but the beacon doesn't change, it never goes out, and it is never out of date.