Sister to Sister: My Legacy

MassGraveI’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. Whatever it is that I’d like to leave behind, I’d better get busy accumulating and organizing. Grandmothers had better start thinking about what matters and what doesn’t. As the song says, “Today we are here, but tomorrow may see…just a grave in the vale and a memory of me.” But I will be in conscious existence in one of two unbelievably different places. And, even if a pauper, I will leave much behind. It will be more than any little treasures (or trash) that my children may find when opening drawers, safes, old Bibles or even documents. It’s not about being morbid. It’s about the reality of how I’m living now. Just what will I leave?

When the last line has been written
And my time on earth is through,
What will my friends remember
When they see my empty pew?

Will they say I’ve gone to glory
And declare with certainty?
Or wonder if his grace is vast
Enough for even me?

Will they say, “This church will miss
Her great example to our youth”?
Will they say I led them Heavenward
If they really tell the truth?

What of my home and family?
If I reach my present goals,
Will I leave behind a spotless house
Or blood-cleansed spotless souls?

My legacy for others…
Just what’s on the bottom line?
If it’s figured all in dollars
I’ll leave every cent behind.

But if my kids’ inheritance
is faith and Purity
Then they Are very rich!
My Legacy will follow me!

cc

Sister to Sister: Like Mother, Like Daughter Part Eleven

Jezebal and Athaliah and Deathblood-sun

Maybe Athaliah had heard the words of the prophet in the vineyard of Naboth when he foretold the tragic deaths of her parents:

 

And you shall say to him, Thus says the LORD, Have you killed and also taken possession? And you shall say to him, Thus says the LORD: In the place where dogs licked up the blood of Naboth shall dogs lick your own blood (I Kings 21:19). 

 

And of Jezebel the LORD also said, The dogs shall eat Jezebel within the walls of Jezreel. Anyone belonging to Ahab who dies in the city the dogs shall eat, and anyone of his who dies in the open country the birds of the heavens shall eat (I Kings 21:23,24).

 

In fact, she likely had rehearsed these words many times in her mind.  She had seen other prophecies of Elijah come to pass.  Perhaps she had been startled in the night by nightmares about the dogs licking the blood of her father and the dogs eating her mother.  It had to come as no surprise when she heard about the death of her mother:

 

When Jehu came to Jezreel, Jezebel heard of it. And she painted her eyes and adorned her head and looked out of the window. And as Jehu entered the gate, she said, Is it peace, you Zimri, murderer of your master? And he lifted up his face to the window and said, Who is on my side? Who? Two or three eunuchs looked out at him. He said, Throw her down. So they threw her down. And some of her blood spattered on the wall and on the horses, and they trampled on her( II Kings 9:30-33).

 

Jezebel must have anticipated the mission of Jehu.  She must have known that her time was at hand.  She even called Jehu a murderer as he approached that infamous wall of Jezreel.  But she wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.  She made sure every hair was in place and her make-up was just right, including her eyeliner and mascara (II Kings 9:30).  Maybe Jezebel thought that since she wasn’t likely to get a proper funeral, she’d at least look good as she perished.  She looked pretty as the servants shoved her from the top of the wall.  But then as her body bounced on the side of the stone wall, she wasn’t very pretty any more. Her blood spattered the wall and the very horses that trampled her body.  A little while later when Jehu’s men came to gather her remains for burial and they found nothing but her hands, her feet, and her skull, she was certainly not the vision of loveliness she had envisioned in front of the mirror earlier that day.  The dogs in Naboth’s neighborhood once again had fulfilled the words of the prophet. It was not a pretty picture.  It was so grotesque that Jezebel’s body looked like refuse on the ground so that she was not even recognizable.  Since they were gathering her remains for burial, one might suppose that Athaliah could have seen those remains.  Jehu, after all, indicated that there should be some ceremony for her burial, “since she was a king’s daughter” (II Kings 9:34).  Athaliah at least knew about the situation of her mother’s demise.  She must have been nauseated by the images.   But then again, the end result of sin is never as lovely as the sinner has imagined.

And finally, the end came for Athaliah. She must have pushed the images of Ahab’s death in the vineyard from her mind.  She must have silenced the haunting voice of her mother Jezebel’s scream as she was pushed from the wall of Jezreel.  Every time she heard a pack of dogs bark, she must have quickly diverted her attention elsewhere.  She had seen every detailed prophecy of the Lord against her family come to pass. The terror of the Lord must have haunted her as she reigned over Judah for six years following the death of her son.  She was unaware of the little boy, Joash, who was quickly growing up in the house of God.  It’s ironic that they could successfully hide Joash in God’s house.  I guess that was the one place they were sure Athaliah would not visit!

It was just another day, when Athaliah overheard a tumult around the temple.  People were running jubilantly and there was a loud sound of cheering. And then Athaliah saw him. It was young Joash, the seven year old son of her husband Jehoram.  “How had this happened? Did I miss one of the children? Why they are blowing the trumpets, shouting ‘Long live the king!’ and singing to this little boy? Look! There is a crown on his head!”

And then, above the sounds of the trumpets, all of the instruments, the shouting and the singing, Athaliah’s all too familiar voice could be hear hysterically shouting “Treason! Treason!”  As she rent her clothes and screamed her dissent, the priest Jehoida was ready for her.  His commanders were at bay just waiting for the directions once they had seized her.  Jehoida’s orders were to take her away from the temple before they put the sword through her. After all, there were impressionable children around the pillars of the temple, one of whom needed a clear mind as he grew into the kingship of Judah (II Chronicles 23:1-21; II Kings 11:4-21)!

 

“And the city was quiet because Athaliah had been slain by the sword” (II Chronicles 23:21).

 

How will it be when you die?  Will there be a “city” or group of people around you who find some measure of peace because you are gone?  More importantly, will your children find any comfort when your spirit leaves your body?  Will they know that you rest with the Lord?  Will heaven become dearer to your children after you’ve passed from this life, because they know you will be there?  Will you face the terror of the Lord when you die?  What of your children?  Will they, as it were, be running and screaming and tearing their clothes? Or will they be carried by the angels to a place of bliss (Luke 16:22)?  They will likely follow you in death.  But where will they follow you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guest Writer: Hannah Colley Giselbach

melanie

Today, I planned to take a break from our mother-daughter study to think about our sister, Melanie Hays. Sometimes we have a tendency to remember all the good times, the amazing attributes, the sweet gestures, and the rock-solid values a person had when she is gone. I remember all the wonderful days when I looked up as I was speaking somewhere and, there she was. She was there at lunch, too, to tell me to “keep on doing what you are doing.”  I remember all the best things about Melanie. But, maybe more than the crystal example of virtue she left, I remember that she was real. She struggled with sin in the lives of people around her. She hated it. She hated the devil and she could get really angry at him. She hated crooked politics. She hated duplicity in people. She rolled her eyes at laziness and she despised the efforts of some to turn the church into merely another denomination. She was real. She was as vocal about her disdain of sin as she was about her joy in the Lord.  She did not seek a public platform, but she supported mightily those who were trying to make a difference for the Lord in this world of complacency. In this way and many more she made her own difference. She did not mince words about her frustration with Satan. She multiplied her self by seven, even in her own home, and they have grown to multiply themselves, too, to the glory of God. I want to be “real” like Melanie.

Maybe Psalm 78:4 is Melanie’s best legacy: She “shewed to the generation to come the praises of the LORD, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done.”  There are children, yet unborn, in Melanie’s family who will know HIs praises, His strength and His wonderful works because she was so real in her love for her Father. She will be eagerly awaiting their arrival. Nobody ever loved kids and grandkids more than she. 

So today, in case you haven’t see this piece, I want to feature Hannah’s tribute. I couldn’t say it better!

 

JUST A VAPOR

 

Sometimes it seems like life just goes on forever, doesn’t it? I remember being a preteen who absolutely couldn’t WAIT to have the teenager status—so much that when people asked how old I was, I’d respond, “twelve and a HALF” (basically a teenager, right? I hoped I’d be perceived as such, anyway). Then I remember being in high school and thinking if I could just make it through till graduation and finally get to experience the freedom of college life, THEN I’d really know what it means to live. Then I remember wishing that God would just show me the man I was supposed to marry, already, so I could just go ahead and experience life side by side with someone.  The time always seemed to just drag on and on.

But then there are days like Monday. Monday started out like any other day. It was Ben’s off day so we slept in until about 9 am (a luxury that we know we’ll likely never experience again for 120742 years now that we’re starting a family). When we woke up, we sat on the couch in our pajamas and talked about what we wanted to accomplish for the day when my phone rang. It was then that I heard the devastating news that would make that day very much unlike any other day. My friend and college roommate Candice had lost her mother and her grandmother to a horrific car accident. Two of her sisters (ages 10 & 18) were also in the car, as well as an aunt and cousin (age 7). All of them who were still alive were airlifted and hospitalized immediately. Her sister Natalie (18) is still in ICU with multiple serious injuries and it is unsure at this point whether she will survive. The other driver died instantly.

It’s moments like these when you wish you could turn back the clock and just savor each second. It’s moments like these when you wonder what’s keeping you and your family from facing the same tragedy, and you realize the answer is…nothing. There’s no reason why your life should be spared more than anyone else’s. Your life is no less fragile than anyone else’s. The reality is that even if your life lasts a good long 95 or 100 years, it’s still just a vapor. And most people do not live to see a ripe old age. Many people face death unexpectedly and far sooner than they ever planned. James got it right when he wrote,

“You do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” (James 4:14)

Candice’s mom, Ms. Melanie, surely didn’t expect to leave this life so soon. But I know this much about her: She was ready. She was ready for eternity all the years I knew her. Let me tell you a little about this woman. She was faithful and loving to her husband of many years. This woman raised seven children in the Lord. All seven are faithful to God and I am confident they will always serve as a beautiful legacy of her life in His service. Melanie loved her children fiercely and I believe she would have done absolutely anything to make sure they were heaven-bound.

Ms. Melanie was the type of woman who somehow managed to show up at every spiritual event within 3 hours of her, toting a carload of kids with her. Every time I spoke at a ladies day or youth retreat anywhere close to her Kentucky home, there would be her sweet face in the audience, sharing a row with her girls who she always “made” go (I say “made” with a smile because they are all godly girls who I’m sure never needed much coaxing). Even when she was visiting my former roommate in California, she’d show up at all kinds of spiritual events, often surprising and bewildering visiting speakers from the South who were delighted as they didn’t expect to see any familiar faces.

Ms. Melanie was an encourager. I remember numerous times when she would say something to me like, “Just keep doing what you’re doing” in reference to living righteously. This was always accompanied by a warm hug and a gentle smile. I’m sure I wasn’t the only recipient of that needed support—I’m sure many benefitted from that gift of encouraging she possessed.

Ms. Melanie wasn’t out to win any popularity contests. She wasn’t afraid to take stands on moral issues that she knew would isolate her. She was constantly mindful that she was teaching her daughters (and her sons too, I’m sure) how to be respectable, how to be faithful, how to be modest in dress and conduct, and how to choose mates who would lead them to heaven. Everyone who knew her knew that these were some of her greatest life goals. She didn’t hesitate to speak the truth on these matters, and she was quick to thank and encourage others who vocalized hard Biblical truths as well.

Ms. Melanie was completely selfless with her money and her time. Their family never made lots of money, but every bit of it went to giving her children everything she thought would be best for them. With seven children and a store to run, her time was limited, and yet she somehow managed to home school her children, daily instilling in them a love for God and for His church.

I don’t know why God allowed her to be taken from this life so quickly, but I know that all who knew her and loved her are finding comfort in knowing that she’s blissfully happy in paradise right now and is sharing that bliss with both her parents, one of which she lost at a very young age, and the other who went with her to paradise at the same moment. I didn’t know Mrs. Shirley (Ms. Melanie’s mother) as well, but I know that all the wonderful things I know about Melanie are likely a result of her Godly upbringing.

Many people will miss Ms. Melanie. Many people will wish they had told her all the things they appreciated about her before they lost the opportunity. I’m one of them. But what I think she would want us to do with that regret is to turn it into a real determination to stop wishing our lives away, savor each precious second, and be ready for our time to come at any moment. Cherish the people you love. Say what’s in your heart. Don’t waste time being angry or selfish with those you care about the most.

In the meantime, please continue to keep the Hays family in your prayers. They need strength and comfort right now more than they’ve ever needed it before. And especially pray for sweet Natalie as her precious life hangs in the balance.

Don’t waste the short time you’ve been given on this earth. Wake up every morning with the same attitude as the Psalmist:

“Today is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

If you died today, what would others say about you? Would they be able to use the same adjectives I’ve used to describe the sweet soul we lost Sunday night? Would you be in paradise with Ms. Melanie? Let’s be ready like she was ready. I want to see her, along with all the others who were brave enough to live every moment in Christ.

Carol Corlew Boyd…If You Knew Her, You Loved Her.

21121_10200134912363225_1473645411_nIt’s been a hard day at my house. Yesterday afternoon, a dear friend of mine of 35 years said “I love you,” to her husband, Steve, and took her last drive. She rounded her last curve in McMinnville, Tennessee and collided with another lady who was also taking her last drive, albeit in the wrong lane of that road. Carol Corlew Boyd, whom Glenn and I have affectionately called “Corlew” for all these years, was taken from that little convertible by the angels and she is home and happy. But, oh, when a life is so well-lived, the hole death leaves in the lives of family left behind is massive and debilitating. It just hurts me to know how Steve and those kids are suffering.

It has to be a very painful hurt when you know the only thing that could hurt more is the worst and most permanent hurt of all…the hurt of eternity without hope. Hope is what will keep Steve, Allison, Tyler and Daniel going. It will make them hold on. It will give them purpose. It will be the survival mechanism. It is hard for us, in the family of God to know what people who say excruciatingly sudden goodbyes do without hope. Perhaps that is why they, almost always, manufacture a synthetic hope in death, when one actually never existed in life.

With my friend’s leaving, there’s nothing synthetic. There’s nothing plastic about the expectation of sitting around the throne of God one day with Carol. It’s a happening thing and in a thousand years, the lapse of time between her death and all of ours will seem as a brief moment.

So tonight, I’m taking a few minutes to look back through recent correspondence between Carol and me. If you don’t understand or see the value in this, it’s okay. I guess it’s not really for you tonight. It’s for me. These are some of my favorite quotes from our letters. I can’t wait to see Corlew in a place where I can sing “Abide With Me” like we did at Bible Study tonight and God will have already wiped all of tonight’s tears away.

The Top 20 Corlew Quotes: (I know why I love her so much. We just had a ton of favorite stuff in common. And our least favorite things were definitely the same…)

“Yay for houses with character!”

“Is your cabin available?”

“I hate the devil.”

“We continue to pray that the scars will be useful in some way in the future.”

“I work on bridling my tongue.”

“Allison and I watched old movies by the fire.”

” ‘Take time for a fun spring break with your kids’….Ha! This is one thing I sure won’t need to be told!”

“I’m already planning the grocery list and meals! Daniel is always glad when I cook.”

“I can’t take any credit (except for knowing how to upload to Facebook)…God has graciously given the scenery and creatures and Steve is the nature photographer! We do love our views though!”

“We don’t really have a “plan” which is the beauty of this trip.”

“Maybe we can have a cup of coffee (decaf!) and some conversation Sat. night.”

“Learning to understand themselves and bring their uniqueness in line with work in the kingdom sometimes takes extra work and time but inevitably gives ‘meaning to life.’

“I’ve been thinking of you and praying for all of your preparation.”

“You’ll need to change your little ‘about me’ box now that you changed your profile pic, otherwise it looks like your daughter is your grandmother. I think there’s a country song about that.”

“Aren’t the trees nice and full”…”My favorite quote from The Andy Griffith Show episode “Opie the Birdman”!

“His (Daniel’s) growing up bedroom will be empty. Now, why did he have to remind me of that?! Bittersweet.”

“Keep on keepin’ on!”

“I appreciated your lesson on Mary Magdalene and share your excitement over her SEEING the gospel!”

“I think you should come see me for calm and peace.”

“A few months ago Chad and Rose (Bill’s oldest) visited in the middle of several activities around here. I had rushed around and made beds, cooked food, threw things in closets etc…and then took a deep breath and sat down to a nice supper. It evidently fooled them. Chad said, “It is always so “cozy” when we come to McMinnville…rather like Mayberry”. (I felt like the The Andy Griffith Show episode “Sermon for the Day” where they worked so hard for the relaxing band concert). Ha.”

“If you could possibly work it into your schedule, some rest would probably be very beneficial.”

p.s. I am going to work that “rest” into my schedule…I think I will go see her one of these days “for some calm and peace.”

DiggingDeepSpecialBound

Thursday, May 16, 2013 7 p.m. CST

Twenty Minutes of a Life Well-Lived

Mrs. Jane McWhorter

Mrs. Jane McWhorter

It’s not about me, I know. But if it were about me tonight, I would tell you that I am simply emotionally drained. (Okay, sometimes it just has to be a little about what’s inside my aching heart.) There’s not much left in the heart, at this moment, that can make its way to the keys on the keyboard and subsequently to tomorrow’s scheduled post. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. But, in reality, I have lost two of them.

But “lost” is not a good word, because most certainly they are not. They have never been more saved, found, redeemed. They are not and have not lost, in any sense. They have won.

My friend, Jane McWhorter, passed from this life on Tuesday to the part of eternal life that is beyond the grip of time and toil. She won, at last, the victory over pain and suffering, and, since her Don passed a few years ago, she would say she has also now won the victory over loneliness. I’m told she died while listening to a recording of Don preaching the Word, as she also customarily did each night while falling asleep. That’s how I want to die–listening to the Word of God being proclaimed by the man I love.

I do not know anyone, among my friends, who suffered more than Jane. Surviving (just barely) a car crash which left her fighting for the chance to raise her children, and lots of grueling medical procedures and months upon months of difficult rehabilitation, she quietly bore the pain–going through the valley of the shadow of death several times with her husband as he neared death, even as he, himself, heard the doctor pronounce him dead on one occasion, (He did finally convince the medical team that had covered his body with the sheet that he was still alive.) —surviving yet another near fatal car crash with it’s attendant pain and lengthy rehabilitation–and, finally, the leukemia that weakened her body and set her spirit free.

Cindy with Jane McWhorter

and me!

I do not know anyone, among my friends, who funneled more of the joy of the Lord into the lives of other people than Jane. Did you notice that my friend who suffered most is also my most supremely joyful friend? What gives? Jesus gives. He gives his suffering children the amazing ability to respond in joy (Romans 8:17,18). Like the widows who wept when Dorcas briefly left them in Acts 9, displaying the coats that she had made, I weep for her leaving. I will be showing her books to my daughters and my granddaughters (I hope) in years yet veiled. I will be looking up ideas for evangelistic letter writing in “Special Delivery” and passing along “Let This Cup Pass” to sisters who are grieving. I will be showing our preaching son and son-in-law passages from “God’s Woman: Feminine or Feminist,” the combined effort of Jane and Don. Jane’s sweet little friends in the Fayette Nursing home will be showing the goodies she brought them and her sisters in the Fayette church will long recall the wisdom they found when they brought life’s queries into her living room. I will treasure my photographs with my beautiful friend…photos of a body that was stooped because of injuries, but that housed that sweet, sweet spirit that was so affected by the One who taught us joy in suffering. I’m so glad for her life. I’m glad that I was born into a generation and in an area of the world so that I could know her and Don. I’m glad I will get to see her again.
I will think of her every time I eat M&Ms.

Arnold in his missions element in Kharkov, Ukraine

Arnold in his missions element in Kharkov, Ukraine

And tonight, my friend and brother, Arnold Wright went home, too. I didn’t have to talk to him every day to know that he loved Glenn and me. It was obvious. It was a really warm relationship and he leaves a huge hole; not just in our personal lives, but in the family at West Huntsville. A faithful, loving shepherd for 23 years, he brought the sharp mind that built rockets for Boeing and NASA to build up something eternal…the body of Christ. Ever the engineer, thinking in black and white, but loving souls in living color, Arnold Wright was the most diligent personal evangelist I have ever known. He loved souls. He worried about souls. He lived for souls.

My husband and I have been around the world a couple of times at least with Arnold. I can truthfully say that we have all been very hungry at times, while we were also very aware that food was just not happening till we finished answering all the questions in a particular Bible study or found a place to baptize a penitent sinner, or got to an airport and through customs. I remember once, when Glenn and I finally had to say to Arnold, our team leader, “We have GOT to take a break and eat or we are going to perish!” Arnold was more absorbed in personal evangelism than anyone I have ever known.

I have heard him say it many times: “I’d like to study the Bible with you. Would you be willing to study with me?” Each time he asked that, he spent about four seconds of his life. Let’s say (and this would probably be a conservative estimate) that he said that 300 times in his life. That would mean that Arnold spent twenty minutes of his life asking people to study God’s Word. And as a result of those twenty minutes, well…you know…I’m pretty sure Arnold has already met at least one someone in glory–someone to whom he taught the gospel. And he just arrived in glory tonight!

How many people did Arnold bring to the Lord as a result of that 20 minutes? I don’t know. Arnold was not one to keep up with how many successful Bible studies he conducted. He was too busy conducting them to record them. But I can tell you one thing….He’s dead, but he will still be bringing people to the Lord for a very, very long time.

See, Arnold taught me and others how to be effective personal workers. He taught our daughter, Hannah, how to teach the gospel. He prodded Hannah and me to approach women visitors in campaign services in Ukraine, Argentina and Columbia. He forced me to become comfortable asking women to study with me. He sat down with me and Glenn one night at the old West Huntsville building and taught us the best method I know of having one-on-one studies. I used this method just last week in Hawaii and Almira became my new sister in Christ. I taught Almira. But so did Arnold, because he taught me. Just 20 minutes. Oh, I know it turned into more than 20 minutes if and when the Bible studies occurred. But, ladies, twenty minutes of your life will put you on the challenging, but, oh-so-rewarding path of personal evangelism.

One day very soon we all will slip from time’s side of eternity to the unfettered realm of bliss or torment. That day will either be the most horrible day imaginable or the very best day of earthly life. Today was the best day ever for Arnold.

I will think of him fondly whenever I study the gospel with people, especially with the help of a translator. And I will think of him whenever I buy an ice cream cone from a Spanish speaking vendor in the middle of a warm South American afternoon.

Steve Jobs With No Mode Of Communication

Incredible man, Steve Jobs. From a garage in 1976, he started the Apple Corporation—the undisputed leader in technology innovation. Self described as neither an inventor, a technologist, or an executive type, but even on his resume, as having a “vision thing,” he turned the vision into products we could have only imagined in our wildest sci-fi dreams just thirty years ago. I routinely peck away, communicate, am entertained and produce using those tech tools that were a part of the vision emanating from the garage. Many of you do, too. And, don’t forget– on his hiatus from Apple, he developed Pixar, just as a little sidebar to the page of his life.
Thirty-five years and eight billion dollars beyond the garage, America mourns his passing. Lots of gratitude is involved when we reflect on his accomplishments. What a blessing to live in a country, free of caste systems or government controlled business, in which a dream like this can come to fruition. What an intriguing phenomenon to watch the free enterprise system at work. And just how amazing is it that we have come to a point where we can speak into a phone smaller than a deck of cards and get a helpful response from an electronic map system or a weather radar system? It almost takes my breath.
But the words of Steve Jobs about death are the most profound thing about his life, to me:

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”– Stanford commencement speech 2005

Although, he wasn’t spot-on in his conclusions about the meaning of death, he certainly recognized some of the things death can swallow in the final analysis—pride, fear, failure, expectations. Death, in a world of urgent deadlines, is the ultimate one. It is the universal leveling of the playing field. Steve Jobs is now without technology. There is no means of mass communication, no i-pad, no i-pod, no i-phone, no internet at all. It is just Steve Jobs, all by himself, coming to terms with the One who has limitless wireless capabilities, infinite memory storage and command response from the universe, itself. Only one thing now matters as he reckons with His Creator. That thing cannot be purchased, invented, or devised. But it is the product of vision. It is the true visionary who is hard at work in this life on something that will both outlive her on this planet and travel with her beyond the grave.
I have an idea that, if this earth is still about its spinning business in a thousand years, names like Galileo, Einstein, and Jobs may be in the same chapter in whatever sort of scientific information exchange system has emerged. But, whatever the system might be, all of those men will be without it. They will be conscious, but completely unable to communicate to humanity the stark reality of the only thing that matters. Hmmm, Steve Jobs will be unable to communicate. And I will be and so will you. Just like the rich man in torment, we will be somewhere. We will recognize each other. But we will not have the luxury of communicating with or advising those who still walk the face of the earth (Luke 16: 19-31).
I am thankful that Cindy Colley, as small as she is on the tiny blue dot in the universe that we call earth, can, through the grace of God, personally know the One who made the mind of Steve Jobs. I am thankful that He is aware of and active in my miniscule little sphere of earthly influence. I am thankful that, because of the Extreme Visionary of heaven, I, too, can have a “vision thing.” When the i-technology has long since and repeatedly been replaced, the vision of heaven will be as fresh and new and pristinely up-to-date as the moment Jesus went to prepare it for me (John 14:1-3).