Pleasant Prospects

I will be traveling to a college reunion this weekend. Ed is accompanying me, as he accompanied Brian at least 20 years ago to one of these events. I didn’t go last time, busy with school-age kids and other things (except Ed). Also, although I attended this college my freshman year, Brian graduated from there with his first degree, in literature. (His second degree in Electric Engineering, was from Dordt College.)

My brothers and their wives, nieces, nephew, cousins and other close family and friends also attended this college.

I still have friends from that special year. I hope some of them show up. For me, going to this reunion is more about closure. I doubt that I will ever attend another event for this college, but I need to “wrap up things.” It was such a big part of our lives for years.

I will continue to keep in touch with my roommate, my friend that lived across the hall in the dorm, and Renee, my friend for life, who also was my bridesmaid. These friendships are important to me, even if I do not have a lot of contact anymore.

Renee and I are travel partners, so we get to see each other more. I am so thankful for her.

It will be interesting. This college, from all reports, has become “woke,” my definition: drifting.

Those of us who are old-fashioned Bible thumpers, (I confess, relate, and wear it openly) aren’t welcome anymore. (So I will keep my mouth shut.)

I cannot abandon my belief in the power of prayer, the theology that does not replace Israel, the inerrancy of Scripture, the inspiration of Scripture, and the reality of God’s definition of sin. I also anticipate the pre-millennial Rapture of the church, the fulfillment of the Judaic feasts, and of prophecy yet unrealized, the coming time of “Jacob’s Trouble,” or as some label it, the Great Tribulation and the Beast Kingdom.

I believe wholeheartedly in the Holy Spirit and His help in understanding the Word of God.

To me, this belief is hope-filled, powerful, sustaining, and world-changing. I see a living church that holds to this worldview. I see life, but it’s getting rarer. I think there are places on other continents that are thriving spiritually because of this worldview.

Clarifying my own beliefs helps me to stand firm in light of morphing theology and drifting morals.

I see too many institutions and churches drifting away from Scripture. I see people I know and love who hate God now. They stand opposing the values He gave us. I see apathetic coolness towards God, weariness, wishy-washyiness, and general carnality trending. I see people who are uber-judgmental toward anything “conservative” or pertaining to a straight and narrow path, a strait gate. The hatred is real.

The proof of the pudding is in the eating, for them and for me, and I must simply love these dear ones. I can only trust that the Holy Spirit will open their spiritual eyes to truth. I am weary of the battle, so I will trust God to work in their hearts. I can pray, and that is powerful.

Grief, though. I still grieve.

As the “church” drifts away I can watch it go, continue to pray, and mind my own business as Micah did.

There are still many of us who are true brothers and sisters in Christ, watching and waiting patiently for the Glorious Appearing of our Lord. These are MY PEOPLE, the people of His pasture!

It is such a joy to find them through conversations, prophecy events, and other random encounters!

I praise God that my dear friend, Mary Kaye, and I share the same faith and worldview. One needs a staunch friend who will bolster you up when the going gets rough!

We all need to have our “tribe” of people who see the world the same way.

We can, and must love all people, including our enemies.

Being gracious to those who hurt you is a tough calling, but Jesus asks us to do it.

It is possible.

I subbed only one day this week, and it was pretty rough. I had to confess my sinful thoughts on the way home from school. One of the other teachers confessed that they had “given up” on this class, the behaviors are abysmal. These are young children!

My thoughts that needed to be confessed were a wish for an old-fashioned paddle, like the one that hung on the wall in the principal’s office at my elementary school.

Proverbs says, “Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

If ONLY some parents would NOT SPARE THE ROD. Discipline and respect are not taught in the home, and the schools are bound with powerless consequences to enforce anything that is of value.

It’s a losing game.

I’ve decided that being a sub is sort of being a missionary. I give my days (and of course I’m paid) to be a bit of light and comfort to the kids that need it. My heart is warmed at the sweet greetings I get as I walk the halls of troubled faces.

Kids often choose to tell me things that they do not tell teachers. Not sure why this is, but they see me as a safe person, an open countenance, non-judging, simply loving. I am sometimes a bit of a pushover with discipline, but I do have my methods for surviving a day. There are those days, though, that really sting. Some are still biting me.

I try to turn unpleasant encounters into teaching moments. Teachers can bully kids, but kids more often bully teachers. It’s true. You may think a first grader isn’t capable of doing that. The other day I was given two different slips of paper with obscene language directed at me (?) by a couple of first graders.

I didn’t bat an eye, and said nothing. I just took them. I said a silent prayer for the child and the family he came from.

What else can I do?

PRAY. I can pray about society. I can pray about wokeness. I can pray about the drifting church and the issues that make me grieve.

I can pray.

God answers prayer, but at this point I’m watching for His Glorious Appearing. My hope in the world has vanished.

MARANATHA!

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