The Single Thing

August 28, 2017 § Leave a comment

Since getting married I’ve thought a lot about writing something to my single friends. I suppose every single-longer-than-she-wanted-to-be Christian wife has considered doing this, and I’m willing to bet that if you’re a single woman reading the blogs out there, you feel like ALL of them have done it . . . repeatedly.

Another one, really? Is it some kind of right of passage that you married people feel like you have to go through — write the blog to the still-single demographic that you were a part of, oh I dunno, five months ago?

I get it. I’ve had that thought. So how do I know that what I might have to say would be any good? Well, I don’t. But I do know that every time I pushed past those bitter feelings and read the words of women who had at last gotten their heart’s dearest wish, it helped.

Their disillusionment helped me keep perspective.

Their joy helped me remember that disillusionment doesn’t mean disappointment.

Their charges to be content in singleness — or I wouldn’t be content married either — helped me be obedient to God, and find all satisfaction in Him.

In 2013 I wrote my own blog on that last point, The Gift of a Gift Withheld.  It was probably the single most important thing I ever internalized. No pun intended.

So I will continue to consider what, if anything, I have to say to my still-single friends from a recently-married nothing-figured-out perspective that could possibly be of encouragement.

One thing I can say right now: God’s wisdom is trustworthy!

 

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I Know Words Can Kill, ’cause Something’s Dead

August 10, 2016 § Leave a comment

“I Want to Say I’m Sorry” . . . I love this song. Andrew Peterson covers it all. This is how to apologize. Especially when we’ve sinned against one another with our words.

As someone with a history of a particularly sharp tongue, I have nothing to cling to for help but my hope in the Gospel! Because of the Gospel we can humbly seek each other’s forgiveness. Because of the Gospel we can all look forward, not only to the resurrection of what our sinful words have killed in a relationship, not only to the inner remaking that occurs in us as we are disciplined by our Father, but to the great Last Day when redeemed sinners will sit beside one another at the wedding feast. All forgiven, all spiritually and physically resurrected.

What is most lovely about these lyrics is his acknowledgment of original sin without removing personal responsibility, and the beauty of reconciliation and hope in that future Day when all tears will be wiped away.

(Lyrics and video below.)

I want to say I’m sorry but I don’t know how
But I’m sorry, I’m so sorry now
I said some words to you I wish I never said
I know words can kill ’cause something’s dead

And now my heart is like a catacomb
And I’m praying we can find a way to raise these bones
Again, oh, again

Well, I want to say I’m sorry but it’s not enough
To close the wounds I opened up
So now I’ve got this sorrow and you’ve got that hurt
And we can’t go back to who we were

Oh, but could that mean I’m someone new
Maybe I can love you better than I failed to do
Before the war

They’ll tell you everything was beautiful and pure
But there was poison in the well from years before
And now I’m cleaning up this wreckage on the shore
And I don’t want to fight with you no more

So I want to say I’m sorry that I drew the line
I built the wall, the fault is mine
And maybe now the only way to find some peace
Is just to give it time and trust in grace

So this is my communion hymn
I want to sit beside you at the feast, my friend
Again, again and again
And again

Rated “R”

June 5, 2015 § Leave a comment

Today I’ve been thinking about the “R” words that describe what God does for our souls.

Redeems. Rescues. Regenerates. Restores. Renews. Refreshes.

Why? Why does my soul need all these things?

*Redemption*: I need it because I was subject to sin by nature and therefore “a child of wrath”, assigned to everlasting death. But instead of giving me what I deserve, He was merciful, even to the point of buying me back with His own blood. Has anyone else died for me? For you?

*Rescue*: I need it because in my sin I could not save myself! Think of any situation where a helpless person cries out, begging to be snatched away from danger. Once they realize their situation, there’s no pride or reluctance to ask. Just “please help me!” Do you see your need for rescue?

*Regeneration*: I need it because in sin my soul was dead. Like a dead physical heart, a dead spiritual heart can’t make decay begin to run backwards on its own. Nothing but supernatural power can regenerate it. God removed the dead stone of my heart and replaced it with flesh, quickening my soul for the battle against sin. He raised Jesus from the dead and said the same power that He used to raise Him is the power at work in our souls. We can’t even imagine that kind of power. Because Jesus is fully God, He essentially raised Himself from the dead. The most awe-inspiring words ever spoken, in my opinion, were Jesus’s when He said:  “Therefore My Father loves Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again.  No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again.” (John 10:17-18a) That same power has regenerated my heart.  Do you know He offers to regenerate yours too?

*Restoration*: I need it because, well, with a dead spiritual heart, what do you think the rest my life was like? Unfit for service or function, like atrophied muscle or a rusted-out engine. He had to restore me, make me into something He can use. Did you know that no matter what you’ve done, He can restore and use you too?

*Renewal*: I needed to be turned into a new creation, from child of wrath to child of God. A relationship where there was once enmity. A new purpose, one that matters beyond our physical lives into eternity. Do you realize you can have a real reason to live?

*Refreshment*: I need it every day, because I am weak and weary in this battle against my sin. He provides His strength, His joy, His beauty. He provides respite when I spend time with Him, peace when I trust Him, joy when I seek and find Him. He refreshes my heart through His other children, my brothers and sisters who also love Christ, who also know what it is to be desperately in need of what we couldn’t provide for ourselves. Do you have a parched, tired spirit sometimes too?

So, there it is. I’ve been bought with a price. Redeemed and rescued! Dear friends, please forgive me when I don’t live like it. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. With God’s help I’m learning and changing, listening to instruction and accepting discipline when I disobey. You who aren’t Christians, that’s why you hear us talking about “growing” all the time.We don’t just mean growing as a person or somehow making ourselves better. We mean that God is raising us, His children. We need the difficulties and trials that make us more like Jesus, and the grace He gives us to endure and excel beyond them bring us out the other side full of even more trust that He knows what He’s doing.

From redeeming us back from His own judgement to refreshing our renewed hearts with His grace. That’s mercy folks. And He offers it to everyone! A gift. Though, there is another “R” word.

Repentance. Turning our backs on the way we used to live. Admit and reject all the selfishness, arrogance, all the ugly attitudes and actions that sin produces. That one takes humility too, and sometimes it’s so hard. But, remember that rescue I talked about? Would you let pride prevent you from letting someone pull you out of a fire, embarrassed because you started it yourself by some dumb mistake, or even maliciously? No. At that point your only thought is for your life.

I pray that you will come to that place for the life of your soul. To the critical moment where you see the desperateness of your plight without God’s intervention. He allowed Himself to be tortured, to endure the full wrath of the Father against our sin, and then to die — so that you and I wouldn’t have to endure eternal separation from Him. And the last “R” word? I mentioned it once already. He rose from the dead. He raised my soul, and He can raise yours.

Please don’t slap away the hand that reaches out to rescue you.

Dedicated to The Bible Church of Little Rock

January 23, 2015 § Leave a comment

About four years ago, during what I thought was a time of personal trial, I sat at my desk and mused, Elizabeth, what do you know about God that will help you through this?

You know all those “Attributes of God” sermons and series that churches do over the years? We sometimes give a little internal sigh when they’re announced, don’t we? I’ve certainly been guilty of that a few times. But as my pastors knew would be the case, it’s what I know about God that has gotten me through every struggle in my life.

So, that day in 2011, with thunder and lightning booming outside, the metaphor of a storm seemed to fit and I began writing as I asked myself these questions: What things about me get me into trouble? What am I tempted to do when times are hard, when I’m uncertain, or when I don’t like what God’s doing? What attributes of God answer those things? 

The answers led to a kind of give-and-take in each verse; I have to give these up to God, and in return, take of the wonderful gifts He offers in Himself.

Well, much, much harder times have followed since I wrote it, in my life and the lives of brothers and sisters in my church. God is teaching our little body to love one another well through deep pain and loss. BCLR, I could not be more grateful for what you have been to me, and what I have watched you be to one another.

With love, I would like to officially dedicate this to The Bible Church of Little Rock, specifically the Oxner and Tittle families.

Give Him the Storm

Give Him the storm of your prodigal will
Lose not your way on the steep of the hill
Give Him your failing and faltering feet
Take of His guidance and follow the Street

Give Him the storm of your thoughts in the wind
Fret not for the thundering battle within
Give Him your weary and uncertain plan
Take of His strength and then cling to His hand

Give Him the storm of your questions and cares
Sink not away into suff’ring and snares
Give Him the sorrowing sighs of your soul
Take of His joy and by it be made whole

Give Him the storm of your anger and tears
Dread not the time though it linger for years
Give Him the flood of your frustrated cries
Take of His patience and worry not why

Give Him the storm of your violent unrest
Faint not for the lightning and downpour of tests
Give Him the strain of your weakened resolve
Take of His Words and His Wisdom recall

Give Him the storm of your anguish and grief
Cast not away all your hope for relief
Give Him the depth of your darkest despair
Take of His peace and be able to bear

He holds the storms of the earth and the seas
He raises those who have sunk to their knees
He is the One who has called you His own
Take of His courage and trust in His throne

Elizabeth Howell – 8.March.2011

Walking worthy…on and offline

January 14, 2015 § Leave a comment

At long last, I have come to realize that I do not love people very well at all. In general and especially online. Naturally, some of the reasons I don’t love people well in general are ripple effects of the fact that I simply spend too much time on the web: primarily Facebook, and reading articles linked there.

There is certainly a place for those things, and you don’t need me to repeat what my betters have already blogged, posted, and shared on the subject. But I must finally admit that I have a twofold problem: too much time online, and a misuse of that time.

To first address the misuse of time online: 

As I finally turn a more critical eye on the frequency and content of my Facebook posts, I have seen an unsettling pattern. I seem to be on some kind of crusade against lack of discernment in Christians, mistaken Christian teachers, and Catholicism. Always trying to make some point or harp on some cultural trend.

None of my views on these matters have changed, but it’s time I realized a few things:

1) It is not up to me to effect the growth and change of those I love through sharing just the right article that’s finally going to convince them.

2) It is not my job to make everyone aware of every issue that I deem crucial to good discernment.

Many of us love to share something we find enlightening, etc., and again, there’s nothing wrong with that. But I tend to love making truth known in the face of error in ways that possess neither winsomeness nor humility. I often take a superior tone which betrays the pride in my heart and dilutes the message.

Even worse, sometimes my motive is more akin to “I have to make sure my Facebook friends know that I’m on top of this issue theologically and haven’t been taken in. Others need to know that they’ve been taken in, and they won’t know unless I share this.”

How’s that for prideful? As if I were their only source for that material and God needed me to click “share” lest anyone miss it. And…as if I were always right.

Does that mean I don’t think God would use something I shared in the life of an unbelieving friend? No; it’s always possible that He would. My point is, I need to lay off the frequency and correct my attitude.

There must be a balance, and it may take me a while to find it. In the meantime, I plan to do much less “sharing” (with those extended excerpts you know I love) and use my Facebook time for more encouragement and less tutelage.

To address the amount of time online: 

Others have already said this better than I can, so I’ll keep it brief. I’ve allowed myself to fall prey to the smart-phone addiction, big time. Checking and re-checking to see if new  comments, notifications, messages, or texts have arrived or new photos been posted by certain pages or groups. . . it’s bad. My eyes (and brain!) tire from screens all day at work and screens for most of the evening, and on and on it goes.  Yet I notice how little certain of my friends are on Facebook and I want to follow their example. Their lives are in no way diminished by their “absence” from it and indeed, they have more time for far better things!

So, the biggest concern? You guessed it. All those things I don’t get done because of wasted time. The cooking & cleaning, laundry, letters to friends, serving others, photo album, cross-stitch, calligraphy, writing, drawing, time outside, and a half-dozen projects left unfinished. And the READING! Oh, the reading. What a list! Most of the things that lend true richness to life, right? I deprive myself of blessing others and much of what makes my walk worthy of Christ.

“Walk worthy” . . . sweet Bethany Rehrer would remind me how precious is the time we have here.

Lately I’ve begun to journal more and more, and I find that the time spent at my desk with the low lamp on, candle lit, and pen scratching across real paper (ah, my first love!) to be incredibly sweet. It is cathartic and healing; getting my thoughts out, recording events, expressing prayers and frustrations. You journaling people have known that for years. Well, I can be a very slow learner.

One big thing I did accomplish recently (this is mostly for any Heart for Home study ladies who may be reading). . . in the weeks before Christmas I buckled down and completely rearranged and reorganized my room, selling and moving various pieces of furniture (thanks Becca!) until there was actually room to maneuver in there. After the New Year a free headboard and perfect little desk from church friends made a huge difference, and now there are pictures on the walls and everything. Yay! Very close to “a place for everything and everything in its place” at last.

Please pray for me. These are big changes to make, and I’ve neglected self-discipline for too long. It’s been difficult to swallow my pride and admit this, since it spent a long time on the list of things I thought I’d never struggle with. (A word to the wise: don’t make that list.)

And now it’s time to log off.

I’m Not Right, I’m Redeemed: The Paradox of the Free Slave

November 26, 2014 § Leave a comment

I love being right. Even more, being proved right. We all do! (Am I right?) Especially when somebody thought we were wrong. Vindication is like hot cider on a snowy day, sending a shot of warmth right down to our toes and, more often, straight to our puffed-up heads.

So if we already battle this pride in being right (and known as right), how much more difficult (and dangerous) is that battle for we Christians who enjoy confidence that we are “right” in our faith and belief in the Bible? It can get ugly, can it not?

Let us not be like those of whom Jonathan Swift said “have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.”  Love need never require the sacrifice of theology, Scriptural clarity, or proper adherence to the biblical injunction to be discerning and rightly divide what is evil from what is good. But it’s imperative that we sacrifice self-righteousness and pious superiority of attitude. I definitely struggle with such pride! Jesus said the world would know His people by our love, not our religiosity nor even our fervor. If we have not love, we are merely clanging gongs, yes? (Perhaps, viewed in that way, social media can be called the loudest place in the world.)

I know a gal here in Little Rock who is part of a group of Christian women that regularly visits ladies backstage at local strip clubs; they talk, get to know them, give them little gift bags of necessities, and talk about Christ. Through simple kindness and by consistently coming back to maintain and grow these acquaintances, she and her friends have gained the trust of the club owners, and of the women, who have actually said to them, “We don’t refer to you as Christians. Christians don’t treat us very well. We call you Christ-followers.”

What a testimony.

That should tell us something about how Chstians are perceived by those who need the message with which we’ve been entrusted.

How I desire my presence to be a breath of fresh air to any unbeliever! I know that doesn’t mean they’d never be offended by the truth; the most lovingly spoken truth is always offensive to sinful pride, until the moment the Holy Spirit softens the heart hearing it.

One thing that may help is to remember that it’s NOT that we are “right” at all. I didn’t look at everything out there and decided that the best course of action was to become a Christian. It’s not that I’m right; it’s that my dead, unresponsive heart had been quickened by the Creator. We’re new creations! That means it was necessary for us to be utterly re-made. Salvation is no cosmetic makeover, but renewal from the inside out.

As we converse with unbelievers and plead with them to recognize their state as sinners before a holy God, I think we too often leave out the very important element of “I used to be exactly where you are!” You see, it doesn’t matter if we’re talking to a murderer while the worst thing we ever did was snitch an extra bite-size Milky Way from our co-worker’s desk – because our state without Christ was the same: destined for eternal separation from God in a real physical place called Hell. That point is the point at which all human lives are identical: the intersection of sin and grace. This should bring a powerful humility to our attitude with unbelievers and with each other. The Gospel isn’t about saying “look at everything that’s wrong about you and the way you live!”  It’s about “Look at what a sinner I was, and see what God’s done! See how He’s forgiven and changed me! I was condemned and I deserved it. But see something wonderful: God is not only a righteous Judge, but also a kinsman Redeemer, willing to give all of Himself to buy us back from the grave. All He requires is a simple, true-hearted repentance.”  We are not “right”. We are redeemed.

If you’re a Christian, no matter what your life has looked like, the inner core of your salvation story is the same as mine, and it goes like this:

One day as I’m thinking about the Gospel I’ve heard, the Holy Spirit arrests me, brings me into a big courtroom and stands me up before the judge . . . God. I look sideways across the aisle, and who is the prosecutor? God. The offended party? It’s Him. The jury box? God is there too. The court reporter, the witnesses, the bailiff, all of them. Every position in the courtroom is filled, but God and I are the only ones present. The massive stack of evidence against me is readily called forth, and He finds me guilty. I know there’s nothing I can do to refute the evidence. All is lost. Consistent with His perfect justice, He reads a sentence of physical and eternal spiritual death.

Then, the Gospel tells me to look and see who’s standing by my side.

God is also my lawyer.

Jesus Christ, fully God, the second member of the Trinity, is my Advocate!

His head, hands, and side are bleeding. Standing between me and the bench, He speaks. “Holy One, Your judgment of this defendant is righteous. You know also that I have lived in perfect obedience to You, and suffered scourging and death already to pay far more than this convict’s offenses are worth; to pay for the sin of the world! If she will but repent and ask Us, You can put her sin to My account, My righteousness to hers, and set her free.”

Can this offer be real?! I repent! He is my only hope.

The accounts are adjusted. I have been bought with a price, now a bondservant of Christ my Savior.

But oh, I am free!

Lakes and Loons and Loony Larks

August 20, 2014 § Leave a comment

I miss lakes. Lakes were a big part of my childhood, when I think about it. I learned how to swim in a lake (Silver Lake, right?…Gina, Emily, Abby, Stephanie, remember the crazy-painful hot metal slide we played on? Is it still there?), had T-ball practice next to lakes, learned how to make loon-calls on lakes (North Star Lake), how to fish in lakes, how to ice-skate on frozen lakes, went to church baptisms at lakes, steered boats on lakes (White Bear Lake), fell fully clothed into lakes (several lakes)…

…and then I moved to southern California. No lakes for seventeen years. In terms of me and lakes, these were the years of the Babylonian Captivity. (What about the ocean, you say? Me and the ocean is a whole different story.)

Then I moved to Arkansas. Hey, there’s quite a few lakes here! But seven years later, I’ve been to more lakes in other countries (in desert regions!) than I have in Arkansas. 

Time to have a lake day. With fishing. And loons.  

Loons really add a special something. A lake without loons is almost no lake at all. I miss getting out on a boat just before the sun rises, weaving through the mist still crawling over the water, and talking to the loons…

Who’s In Your Cloud?

August 1, 2014 § Leave a comment

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”
— Hebrews 12:1-2

The writer of Hebrews had just been delineating the incredible sacrifices and suffering of past heroes of the faith. They are the cloud of witnesses who have gone before us.

Perhaps those we knew personally who have passed into glory were not martyred, and did not suffer for their faith. But we knew them, and loved them, and they have gone before. Their faith instructed us. Their love challenged us. Their joy encouraged us. And so much more. They are part of our cloud of witnesses.

Thinking about the fact that people I actually know, people I hugged and loved and laughed with and sang with and cried with, are actually experiencing Heaven at this moment, makes Heaven so real to me. It’s there! They’re there! Heaven is a place.

In fact my friend Jody wrote a song called “Heaven is a Place”. I listen to the CD and hear her sweet, somewhat husky alto voice singing, and tears always come. As the musicians begin, she calls out to the audience (I and my family were their for the live concert recording), “Are you ready to go to Heaven? I’m excited to go there because that’s where we’ll finally meet the King! Face to face. There will be fullness of joy, and pleasures forever! Maybe tonight. I’m ready.”  Then she sings. How her heart longed to be there. And on September 30, 2006, her desire was fulfilled.

There are others in my cloud. Those that I knew on at least some personal level. The first was my dear grandpa, Jess Vanderpool. I loved him so much! And there is Lynda, Bethany, Jody, Claire, Jasmine, Greg, Chris, Rob, and Tori.

Mrs. Claire Clint was my 2nd grade Sunday school teacher at Grace Community Church. She could have been my grandfather’s teacher, too, if he’d grown up near her. Because she was born six months before the declaration of the Spanish American War in 1898, and was 14 years old when the Titanic sank I sang in choirs with her great-great-grandson. She once told me she still remembered how she felt upon seeing the newspaper headlines. Between Grace Community and her former churches, Mrs. Clint taught Sunday morning classes for 80 years.

Talk about faithfulness.

Jody’s talent was music, and her gifts were never underused. Nether were her gifts of encouragement, speaking the truth in love, and helping others set their minds on things above. Bethany’s exhortation to all of us was always “walk worthy!”. She so desired herself and her fellow believers to walk worthy of our calling.
Tori was all about others. How she could serve, how she could pray, how she could help. She offered to talk any time I needed to . . . wanting to be of any consolation to my sore heart that she could.

I think God has been teaching our little church here in Little Rock how to love suffering people well. How to love, how to be grieving people. We have experienced a great deal of loss in the last several years. Our cloud grows, while we mourn. However, instead of a dark, heavy cloud, this cloud is full of light, joy, and anticipation. They now know that fullness of joy unspeakable, and they eagerly await the day that we will join them.

And we want to! It’s the Christian’s sanctified death-wish. We want to be with our loved ones, those who spurred us on to love and good works, and whom we loved so dearly. Even more we want to be with our Lord. They, with Him, are waiting for us. Let it be soon! Or come quickly, Lord Jesus.

It is better to go to a house of mourning
Than to go to a house of feasting,
Because that is the end of every man,
And the living takes it to heart.
– Ecclesiastes 7:2

No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever! 
— Revelation 22:3-4

Courageous Discernment

April 17, 2014 § Leave a comment

In the Heaven is for Real film preview, Mr. Burpo tells his young son that some people might be afraid to believe him.

However I fear that multitudes of people will be afraid NOT to believe him, because of genuine belief that “you can’t and shouldn’t just write off someone else’s experience”. Very many kind, sweet, strong and otherwise godly people do and will hold this view.

But on the contrary, we should and must have the courage to discount anything that doesn’t agree with the divinely inspired Words our Creator has already given us. They alone are trustworthy and they are final. Neither myself nor the preachers I quote are out to make our fellow Christians look or feel stupid. Instead we beg them to step back, search the Scriptures, and seek after priceless wisdom.

You may be thinking, “Look, even if we ourselves can’t confirm whether or not the kid’s story is true, why is it so bad to at least consider the possibility? What’s wrong with just acknowledging that maybe God allowed this experience, and let it give people hope?”

Because it feeds the notion that God’s revelation isn’t complete; that we can depend on something outside His Word to give us hope. David Platt says it thus: “Why, why do we buy this stuff when we HAVE the Word of God? Let’s minimize the thoughts of man, magnify, trust, bank our lives and our understanding of the future on the truth of God. On the other hand let’s lay aside our traditions and submit to God’s Word. None of us want to believe something is true about Heaven or Hell just because it’s what we’ve always been taught. There’s too much at stake for that.”

With superhuman intelligence and thousands of years of practice, Satan is extremely good at his primary goal: deceiving people. He is the Father of Lies.  Originally created the chief of all God’s angels, he is cunning. A master of subtlety. He delights most in using lies that sound like truth (hence Catholicism, etcetera). They’re the most effective kind, after all.

In a video clip from a sermon of David Platt’s that is going around Facebook (the same from which the above quote comes), Mr. Platt quotes a man I know from our 17 years of residence in California, preacher and editor Phil Johnson. I wholeheartedly recommend his words for your consideration. (Copied farther below.)

Input from men like this, whose scriptural acumen and faithful perspicacity in their efforts to always be “rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15) is exceedingly valuable. God has provided us with gifted expositors of His Word, but they won’t do us any good if we are failing to obey Hebrews 5:12-14 and feed ourselves with the solid food of truth — not just milk! — and exercise ourselves to be discerning.

(All of the following is excerpted from Phil Johnson’s blog post “The Burpo-Malarkey Doctrine” which can be found on the Grace To You website http://www.gty.org/Resources/Print/Blog/B121018)

“Only four authors in all the Bible were blessed with visions of heaven and wrote about what they saw: the prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel, and the apostles Paul and John. Two other biblical figures—Micaiah and Stephen—got glimpses of heaven, but what they saw is merely mentioned, not described (2 Chronicles 18:18; Acts 7:55). As Pastor MacArthur points out, all of these were prophetic visions, not near-death experiences. Not one person raised from the dead in the Old or New Testaments ever recorded for us what he or she experienced in heaven. That includes Lazarus, who spent four days in the grave.

Paul was caught up into heaven in an experience so vivid he said he didn’t know whether he went there bodily or not, but he saw things that are unlawful to utter, so he gave no details. He covered the whole incident in just three verses (2 Corinthians 12:2-4).

All three biblical writers who saw heaven and described their visions give comparatively sparse details, but they agree perfectly (Isaiah 6:1-4; Ezekiel 1 and 10; Revelation 4-6). They don’t agree with the Burpo-Malarkey version of heaven. Both their intonation and the details they highlight are markedly different. The biblical authors are all fixated on God’s glory, which defines heaven and illuminates everything there. They are overwhelmed, chagrined, petrified, and put to silence by the sheer majesty of God’s holiness. Notably missing from all the biblical accounts are the frivolous features and juvenile attractions that seem to dominate every account of heaven currently on the bestseller lists.

Evangelical readers’ discernment skills are at an all-time low, and that is why books like these proliferate. Despite the high profile, high sales figures, and high dollar amounts Christian publishers can milk from a trend such as this, it doesn’t bode well for the future of Christian publishing—or for the future of the evangelical movement.”

A Shepherd’s Conference “Throwback Thursday” (and my baptism story — well, the funny bits).

March 6, 2014 § Leave a comment

Don’t have a photo for this TBT, but here goes.

As the Shepherd’s Conference is in full swing today, I am reminded of how set-up went in the old days! For years, my mom would begin our homeschool year two weeks early in Autumn, JUST so that we could spend one week helping with setup and the second week serving during the conference. I LOVED being a “go-fer” running hither, thither, and yon for all manner of errands.

We learned about sacrificing our time to make a big event happen. We learned about doing whatever was asked of us as well and quickly as we could. We learned how to interact with guests from foreign lands, some of whom barely spoke English. And so much more!

–In the room across from the kitchen (the kitchen by the Fireside Room), we spent a whole day walking around and around a huge square of tables, collating  all the attendees’ conference materials for the week into massive blue 3-ring binders.

–Used a paper-cutter to turn stacks of paper into all of the individual name-tags!

–Put hours and hours into sliding each name-tag into a plastic holder with a pin on the back, while trying not to seriously puncture a finger.

–Served sit-down dinners in the gymnasium; way back when ALL the visiting pastors FIT in the gym, even sitting around tables! (And I tripped on the blue floor-covering and dumped an entire plate of spaghetti *splat!* into the lap of a German church leader. Zum Glück war er sehr nett!)

–The Master’s Chorale would sing and I would sit enraptured, hoping beyond hope that I could sing in that group someday. (A wish that came true!) This hasn’t really changed. =}

–One year on a day during setup week, I was sent from the kitchen up to Dr. MacArthur’s office with his lunch, not realizing I’d forgotten to include any cutlery. He said, rather tentatively as I turned to go, “Thanks! Hey Elizabeth could uh, could I please have a fork?”  Oops.

Lastly, in March of 1999 when the attendance had doubled since the years of my childhoood, I was baptized at the Shepherd’s Conference. They always have an extra-long baptism service, and it’s a wonderful, solemn, yet joyful time. Typically the women go first, and then all the men. But I’d been tagged onto the schedule at the last minute, and was set to go at the very end after the men (because Dr. MacArthur was going to step out of the water and my dad, who was on pastoral staff at the time, was to come baptize me).

Unfortunately, John . . . forgot.

He baptized the last guy, and began winding down toward a final prayer. There dad and I are, literally waiting in the wings in our fluffy white robes, and dad quietly says “Psssst, John. John!” He stopped mid-sentence and turned around, not-so-mild surprise on his face. Then turns back to the mic, jovially saying:

“I’m so sorry, we have one more!”

So at the tender age of 14 and not much keen on public speaking, I walked out there to the sound of ~4,000 men belly-laughing . . .

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