Light Will Come

 Long before its appearance,

There are hints of the coming glory.

Streaks of color creep around

The fringes of the earth’s orb.

 

The horizon at the ocean’s edge

Turns orange and pink and purple.

The palette of colors blending uniquely

With the dawn of each new day.

 

Then a pinpoint of vivid color

Overpowers the pastels.

I am amazed by how quickly

It silently rises and grows.

 

Sunrise in all its glory.

Too bright for human eyes.

A radiance too powerful,

A searing, piercing light.

 

There are hints of the coming glory,

The dawn of a new day is approaching,

And we will all be amazed by

A radiance too powerful for human eye.

 

A searing, piercing Light will come.

Uncared for...

I am increasingly troubled by bad things that happen to children.  When I hear news on television or see an internet article about a child being mistreated, it feels like a wave of nausea or a stab in my abdomen.  Recently I read of an eleven year-old boy chained in a barrel, because he was too much trouble for his father and stepmother.  It sounds as though he is either mentally ill or intellectually disabled, but that is not an excuse.  There is no telling from the article if his level of functioning is a cause of his abuse or an effect of prolonged abuse or a vicious circle.

I saw this type of treatment firsthand once.  I spent six weeks of nursing school at Cook County TB Sanitarium.  I don’t remember why the young patient I am going to describe was there.  I don’t remember whether she had a positive TB test or perhaps a fever of unknown origin.  In any event she was about 12 years old and had never been cared for in an appropriate manner. We were told she had been kept locked up with food just shoved in the door to her.  She was more like an animal than a human.  She did not speak.  Her hair had not been cared for in years and was long and terribly tangled and matted together.  She did not know how to use eating utensils.  She was in a private room in isolation, and one evening I was assigned to care for her.

I have no clear recollection of what I did for her that evening about 55 years ago.  I don’t remember if I fed her or tried to comb her hair or changed her clothes.  All I remember is that I had my back turned to her when I was suddenly in pain.  She came up behind me and bit me on the shoulder….hard.  I was wearing an isolation gown, which would have been 2 layers of heavy fabric, over my student uniform which was heavy tightly woven cotton with a pinafore over it.  She bit through at least 4 layers of heavy fabric, and when I undressed that night, I saw the imprint of her teeth in distinct blue marks on my shoulder.  Minus all that fabric, I’m sure she would have broken the skin.

I don’t know what became of her.  I suppose she was institutionalized after her medical situation was diagnosed and treated.  I don’t know if it ever was safe for one to turn his/her back to her.  I hadn’t been warned, and I have no idea what triggered her aggression.  I do know it saddened me to see a child that age so deprived of love and human contact.

The boy in the barrel and this girl are only two examples.  I am sure there are many around the world, and it hurts me to think of it.  Every child should be loved and tenderly cared for.

I used to hear this song on the radio in the late 60s, and I couldn’t listen to it without tears.  I know Christmas is past, but this song comes to my mind as I think of all the children in the world who are in need or in desperate situations.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4R06T14Qac

Angel of Light

Angel of light most beautiful,

Gloriously radiant,

But only by reflection,

Of the divine.

 

Mistaken in your belief,

The glory was your own.

Your aspiration,

The highest throne.

 

Fallen to earth,

Beauty retained,

But only as a façade

A diabolical deceit.

 

You roam the earthly sphere,

Whispering in our ears,

Sly and attractive

On the surface.

 

Judging by outward appearance,

We think we are safe.

Until the trap is sprung.

We see too late.

 

Spirit of the living God,

Whisper in my ear,

Give me discernment

To know Truth.

The Power of Words

During the non-stop coverage of the protests/riots at the capitol, I heard Norah O’Donnell talk quite piously about the “power of words.”  She was referencing the ways in which Trump’s comments have been incendiary and caused the uprising.  I find this ironic given the ways in which the media in general, and Norah herself, have contributed to the divisiveness of the past year.

Is Trump guilty of using words…lots of words in person and by tweets… to throw gas on fires?  Yes, he certainly is.  He has been very unwise in both quantity and quality of words.  He has said much that is irrational, and it has resonated with lunatic fringe who are eager to translate words into actions.

However…

The media shares in the guilt.  Trump has been so hated from the beginning that absolutely everything he has done has been dissected and criticized in a way I have not previously seen.  Please don’t try to tell me the same thing happened to Obama or Bush or that it will happen to Biden.  Many of Trump appointees were raked over the coals unmercifully without a chance to prove they could do the job.  In contrast, some of Biden’s appointments, although there are valid concerns, have barely been mentioned in the media.  Biden is on camera bragging about a quid pro quo, but Trump was impeached for suspicion of the same.

The worst is always assumed of Trump.  If the media doesn’t know what he is doing, they assume he is off golfing…i.e. loafing.  Recently when that was the accusation, he was in fact off visiting the troops in Afghanistan.  A president cannot publicize everything he does.

The media long ago stopped reporting the news and began editorializing.  Trump did not just “ say” something.  He “lied” about something.  Do they think we are incapable of making any judgments for ourselves?

This has become a vicious cycle of unwise comments from Trump, over reaction from the media, Trump lashing out, the media responding, Trump getting angrier and the media getting more hostile.  The situation has escalated because both sides have been unwise.  Trump has frequently behaved like a toddler throwing a tantrum.  The best approach to that situation is to ignore the toddler and go about one’s business.  Do not reward bad behavior with attention.  Award good behavior.  Is there nothing positive Trump has done that the media could have emphasized?  Actually, there is quite a bit.

There is currently an ad for CBS now running in which Norah’s voice is heard saying that the most important question is “why?”  She and the rest of the media ought to be doing some soul-searching regarding “why” we are in the current morass of hatred and confusion. 

Yes, Norah…words have power…and that includes your words.

We are facing destruction

I have never been very interested in politics…but the nature of man does interest me.  Here are some thoughts.

A dictatorship or monarchy would work well as a system of government, if the despot had a strong moral compass and was inclined to be compassionate.

Democracy works well when the people have a strong moral compass and are inclined to be compassionate.

Capitalism works well when the members of the society behave morally and are inclined to be benevolent and even philanthropic, if they acquire more than their fellowmen.

Socialism works well when the members of the society have a strong work ethic and are tolerant of not acquiring more than their fellowmen.

Here’s the pattern…no form of government or economic system is sustainable outside of a strong set of moral values, a robust work ethic, and an inclination to care about those around us.

And…that is why the United States is in trouble.

History revisionists have attempted to remove the Christian context in which our country was formed, but it was fact.  Our government has only lasted as long as it has because of its moral underpinnings.  That has changed in my lilfetime.  When I was young, even people who were not overtly Christian understood the value of Christian principles and of having moral absolutes.  This is no longer the case.  We are not only pluralistic, but also relativistic.  Almost anything can be rationalized as tolerance.  It has become more important to be “tolerant” than it is to be “moral.”

We are on the slippery slope to destruction.  It is not Trump’s fault, and it will not be Biden’s fault.  It is our fault as a society.

II Timothy 3:1-5 (Phillips translation)

But you must realize that in the last days the times will be full of danger.  Men will become utterly self-centered, greedy for money, full of big words.  They will be proud and contemptuous, without any regard for what their parents taught them.  They will be utterly lacking in gratitude, purity and normal human affections.  They will be men of unscrupulous speech and have no control of themselves.  They will be passionate and unprincipled, treacherous, self-willed and conceited, loving all the time what gives them pleasure instead of loving God.  They will maintain a façade of “religion,” but their conduct will deny its validity.

The nature of man is not basically good and moral.  We are desperately wicked and in need of a Savior.

And…there is a Savior!

I John 1:9 (KJV)  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Romans 10:9 (NIV) If you declare with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

Without repentance, we are facing destruction both individually and as a nation.

Why Will You Die?

We are on the verge of 2021, and I hear so many people holding out high hopes for the coming year.  Everyone seems glad to be rid of 2020, as though there is something magical about the turn of the calendar page.  That is, of course, pretty shallow thinking.  The division of our days into years is arbitrary.  There is nothing innately special about the change from December 31 to January 1.  It’s just another rotation on our axis, another revolution around the sun which is a continuous circle beginning and ending at any point.

People are so hopeful that with the new year and the possibility of getting a vaccine against covid, the pandemic will be over.  This makes the assumption that this pandemic will not be followed by another.  Or that the virus will not mutate in a way that makes the vaccine ineffective.  I’m watching people on television standing in line for the vaccine so excited that now life will get back to “normal,” and they will no longer have to isolate from family and friends.  I hope this optimism is warranted, both for their sakes and my own. 

And then there is the hope of the stimulus money…if only congress will pass that bill that gives everyone $2000 instead of $600.  Where do you suppose this money is coming from?  If the government needs money, it just prints it.  Here comes inflation which produces even more hardship.

Those who are left-leaning politically are so sure that the Biden administration is going to solve the problems of our society.  If we can just get rid of Trump, all will be well.  The right-leaning element is, of course, sure that disaster looms.  We will lose our freedoms.

None…well, maybe a few…of our problems are Trump’s fault, but Biden is not our savior.  There is only one Savior.  It doesn’t matter who sits in the oval office, God is on the throne of the universe.  I do not pretend to know the mind of God or be able to predict the future, but I can’t imagine how much longer He will tolerate the flaunting of His guidelines.

In spite of the crises we have faced, I do not see people in droves realizing the need to repent of their wicked ways and give God His rightful place in their hearts and in our society.  The threat of annihilation has been wasted on us.  That being the case, perhaps actual annihilation is coming. 

Here I am dressed (figuratively) in sackcloth holding a sign “Repent for the end is near.”  Perhaps this is influenced by my recent Bible reading in Ezekiel.  Last night I read, “As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live.  Turn! Turn from your evil ways!  Why will you die…?”

I want the New Year to be a happy one.

I want us to be able to see one another’s faces without masks.

I want to travel to see my grandchildren.

I want hospitals to return to “busy” and leave “frantic” behind.

We all want “normal,” but what does that mean?

Are these things possible in a society that accepts immorality…promotes immorality…praises immorality…a society in which immorality has become the “norm?”

Wednesday, December 23, 1998.

December 23^rd fell on a Wednesday in 1998.  I remember the day vividly, because it was the day my mother left us and went to be with Jesus.

My sweet and beautiful mother had a series of health issues that year.  She and my Dad had lived with us for a few days during the ice storm at the beginning of the year, as they were without electricity and heat.  During that time, she passed out repeatedly due to irregular heartbeat.  As soon as the hospital was off generator power and again functioning normally, she had a pacemaker inserted.  But her troubles continued.  In June she had a heart attack and in July she had a stroke…a massive stroke.  Rather than put her in a nursing home, we cleared out our dining room and put in a hospital bed for her and a twin bed for my Dad.  And there she was as Christmas approached, unable to do anything for herself, and with a leg that was becoming increasingly black with gangrene due to terrible circulation.

Hospice came in daily for an hour to help with her care.  A few days before Christmas, they gave us an aide for an entire day so I could finish my Christmas shopping.  At the time, my first three grandchildren were very young, and I was trying to figure out how I could celebrate Christmas with them when my Mother was dying in the adjacent room.

The morning of December 23^rd was a gray and gloomy day.  There was no snow on the ground, and it was looking like it would not be a white Christmas.  Inside, things were as cheery as possible.  The tree in the living room was positioned so that my Mom could see it from her bed in the dining room.  The gifts were wrapped and under the tree.  The dining room table was in a small sitting room between the living room and kitchen, so I would be able to serve a family meal.  I had made a special gift for my Mom.  Since she always wore hospital gowns, I had made two of them out of lovely soft fabric and trimmed them with lace.  I had previously made a small green fleece blanket with reindeer on it to cover her.

The Hospice aide arrived and began to bathe Mom.  As a nurse, this is a job I could have and sometimes did, but having someone else do it, freed me up for other necessary things.  I was at the time home-schooling our son, who had just had his 12^th birthday, so I had a lot on my plate.  I was in the room and helping the Hospice aide turn Mom on her side, so her back could be washed and massaged.  I saw the color drain from Mom’s face, and I knew she was going.  My Dad was sitting at a card table working on his Christmas cards, so I called to him, “Dad, she’s going.”  He, trying to be strong, responded gruffly that she was already gone.

It was late morning.  I called my husband and suggested that he take our son to Rotary with him at noon.  I didn’t want our son to see his beloved grandmother removed from our home in a body bag.  I called other family members who needed to know.  A Hospice nurse arrived to actually pronounce her deceased and help in the disposal of medications and other necessary matters.

The undertaker came.  Instead of the stiff black plastic body bag I expected, he had a soft blue corduroy bag.  Blue was my Mom’s favorite color and seeing her wrapped in something that looked lovely was comforting to me.  As they carried her body down the steps, I realized it had started to snow…big, soft, beautiful flakes of snow were drifting down.  It was going to be a white Christmas after all.

We had a typical Christmas with family, and the memorial service for my Mom was held on the weekend.  The timing turned out perfectly.  My Dad handled the loss well through the holidays.  The weight of the loss didn’t settle in until later.  I was unable to grieve at first.  Initially, all I could feel was relief that my Mom was no longer suffering.  It was months later that I could grieve the loss of the person she had been before that last year of pain and difficulty.

Many times in the past 22 years, I have found myself thinking “Oh, I should tell Mom about that!”  or “I wonder what Mom would say about this situation.”  She was beautiful, kind, intelligent, sometimes funny, always wise, and not afraid to do what was right even when it wasn’t convenient.  In a quiet and gentle way, she was a force to be reckoned with.  I look forward to seeing her again in heaven someday.  We will have lots to talk about!