An observation at lunch today had someone asking why a man that had just walked by would have shaved his legs. "He's a swimmer," or "He's a bicyclist," were a couple of the answers. And to the puzzled look that followed, the explanation came that shaving the hair on the legs reduced drag to help them gain advantage. I'll come back to this in a while.
Another good day. In fact, a great day. A wonderful timely message on entering Christ's rest (taken from Matthew 11). Bottom line? We don't rest because we have, everyone, broken the first commandment. Understanding that the commandments were given as a guide to have restful life in the One who gives us life, and also to aid us to be Salt, Light and thus a blessing to the world, we come face-to-face with our own inadequacy in the simple fact that we don't want what is really, really best for us. We do everything we can to be in control , to fix everything, to measure up, to be acceptable, to be worthy of something bigger than ourselves - and so we don't rest. Our hearts create idol after idol (breaking the first commandment), and supplant the only true lover of our souls with things we create that can never satisfy us (hence the constant drive for more, more, more). The answer to this is to go to Jesus with our burden, and "take on His yoke," which is to accept union with Him for His guidance, instruction, leading and correction in the way to real rest.
If you'll remember, two weeks ago at this time I was experiencing fever. Not so this time . . . yet, anyway. And the only "events" that seem to be going on is a little affecting of my tastes (food and drink all beginning to taste the same), and even a little numbness in the mouth. That is a new and unexpected thing, but it is happening, so I tell you about it. All in all, I cannot complain.
Or can I? This still stinks. It has been life altering in ways that I never would've imagined. My schedule, the daily routine, is all messed up. Now, I cannot really plan for events. I have to say, "I'll have to see how I feel," because toward the end of the day I may be tired, or I might be experiencing any of the other side effects that would necessarily inhibit some small degree of normalcy. But can I really complain? A favorite saying of mine if I really don't want to do something goes like this: "I'd rather go to the dentist for a root canal," or "I'd rather poke myself in the eye." This is far and above much worse and I couldn't begin to tell you how I at times hear in my head, "I don't want to do this." But do I have anything, anything at all to really complain about?
First, I know that, although I am far worse a sinner than I could ever know, I am loved far more than I could ever imagine. And God showed me this by the evidence of a changed life . . . my life, even though it is still very much a work in progress. It all begins with Him, you see. And though I sometimes exert myself into the place where only He is to be and reign (the center, the core of my soul), I know it. Then I am able to repent and be gently led by the Spirit to the way. Secondly, I know that God works in all things, even the terrible things that we think, "Why couldn't God do something about that," or even, "Why would a loving God allow such things to happen?" The simple answer is that God does grieve that the world, His creation, including us His prized possession (as He named us in Scripture) endures the effects of Sin and corruption in the world. But through it He works His plan of grace for our salvation and the redemption of all things. The question each of us should ask is "What does this mean for me?" Remember Pilate? He, too had a question when faced with the Jesus in history - "What I am to do with this man?" Had Jesus really been the political activist that the Romans feared, or the blasphemer that the Jews hated, there would not have been any question. Yet, Pilate had to ask, "What am I to do with this man?" So, I ask you - What are you to do with Jesus? Pilate took a course that led to political expediency, but in reality he acted out the plan of the Most High God. Right there, on this tiny stage of Jerusalem, in the midst of the Jewish festival meant to commemorate the provision of God to supply the means for His people to escape death (Abraham's near-sacrifice of Isaac and the Exodus), God orchestrated all things to put His sacrificial provision on display for all the world to see - Jesus hung on a cross.
Jesus, according to Scripture, determined the time He would die, saying, "It is finished." And after the third day, reports that the tomb where He was laid was found empty were not refuted, for the Risen Christ appeared to all the disciples in many various places and over many days. Our trouble is we cannot accept this because to do so causes us to acknowledge, deep down that we can never, never, never do anything to be worthy of such love and grace because we do know something of the Sin that resides in our hearts.
What are you to do with Jesus? My prayer, if you don't know Him personally, is that He will work in your heart to call you to Himself and bring you into a personal relationship with Him, so you too can find rest. In that rest is the freedom to say, "I don't want to do this," "This stinks," and even, "I hate that You are allowing this for me." He simply says to me, "Come to me, take my yoke, learn from me, and I will give you rest."
So, what is new for today? Let me preface it by saying that Cynth has been pointing out for a few months that I have the smoothest ankles she's even seen. It is true . . . my ankles, and about an inch and a half above my ankles is smooth, I think from the socks and boots I've worn for many years. And those of you who know me know that when I retired from the USAF in 2006, I went through a phase where I let my hair grow out. At one point, my hair was as long as Cynthia's (that's when I got it cut). Still, I left it a little on the longer side (Cynth is happy to know I could have hair). After all, she came along after I had committed to the Air Force, so all she's ever know of my hair is a military style.
I want to state first that I don't consider myself to be overly prideful about my hair. I do want it to look presentable, but beyond that, I am not concerned (for example) about the grey or white that is creeping in. And, as you might suspect, hair loss is one of the possible side effects of the chemo. I had even begun to say that I was looking forward to seeing how I would look bald. No other Davenport men have been bald (at least as far as I know). And it remains to be seen whether I will have such an opportunity.
But this morning, as I showered, I did have a handfull of hair in my hands as I washed and rinsed my hair. The tell me it will likely be some thinning, but probably nothing more. No worries. It is just another thing for me to relinquish to God and say, " Whatever you will." This morning, in fact, it was just a little funny. So I am losing hair. But I have life. The life I now live here in this world will pass . . . could be tomorrow, next month, or thirty years from now. God alone knows. But I have an assurance of eternal life with the Creator, God the Father and His Son, where I will praise Him forever.
So, my title really ought to be "Here Today, There Tomorrow." God bless.
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