To Jerusalem

Rick Atchley was preaching out of Luke on Sunday, where it records that “We are going up to Jerusalem . . .”; “Now on his way to Jerusalem. . .”

Almost nonchalantly it says he [Jesus] is on his way to Jerusalem. In reality, he’s on his way to fulfill his destiny, to do what he was meant to do, die a terrible, horrible, painful, humiliating death. In fact, those words do not describe the kind of death he was to endure.

All through the sermon, it kept resonating with me that he knew what was going to happen, but he was going anyway. It set me to thinking, which is sometimes not a good thing. “Self, I said, if I knew that my trip was going to end in my death, would I take it? Would I walk out the front door, get in my car and head for Jerusalem, knowing I wouldn’t be coming back? Knowing the pain and suffering I was in for?” Self said “Uh, no. I would get in my car and head the other direction. Or stay in my house and lock all the doors and not go anywhere for days, or weeks or years, till I thought it was safe. But drive towards my known death? No way!”

Maybe I would try to find out why they wanted me to die and negotiate a settlement whereby I get to live. Any number of scenarios ran through my head, none of which ended with me dying. But Jesus headed to Jerusalem.

He and his trusty ragtag band of followers and any other lost souls they could pick up along the way walked to Jerusalem to fulfill his destiny. Forget walking to Jerusalem. He walked out of heaven, came to earth for the express purpose of saving lowly, sinful, undeserving humans. That meant he had to die to do that, so we wouldn’t. And he was willing.

I wonder if those last few miles he was dragging his feet, seeing how long he could take to get there, or if he sped up just wanting to get it over with. Was the dread of what was about to happen to him overshadowed by his love for his father and for us. Did his chest tighten and his stomach churn with every step? Did he want to scream as his disciples engaged in the selfish me first attitude they always seemed to have? Was it on the tip of his tongue to say, “okay surely you’ve got it by now. I’ve been saying the same things to you every day for the last three years?”

On his way he was preaching and teaching, healing and loving on people, the very people who would soon shout crucify him, the very people he came to save. Did anyone see the sorrow in his eyes? No, he cried alone in the garden while his loved ones slept, completely unaware of what was going to transpire.

I’m thinking it was a long, emotional journey to Jerusalem. The urgency of so much left to do and time running out, coupled with the knowledge of what awaited him on that Friday. Thank you Jesus for making that walk.

Peace and Joy,

Stevie

Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens All rights reserved. Contact Faithleap@sbcglobal.net for information

How Cold is Cold?

It’s cold here. No, that doesn’t describe it. It’s COLD here. Colder than a well digger’s tata. Somebody left the door open to the Arctic and it blew down here to north Texas. Don’t get me wrong, it gets cold here. When it hits the 50’s we bring out jackets. Down into the 40’s we pull out the sweaters. When it hits the 30’s, we have mufflers and gloves and heavy coats on. But this week it is supposed to get down into the teens. We become paralyzed. We don’t have the clothes for low temperatures, so to compensate for that, we put on everything in our closets until we look like a bunch of marshmallows walking around with our arms sticking straight out.

We go to grocery stores and buy all the milk, batteries, firewood and food we can carry because we might be frozen in for an hour or so. Sweaters come out for our pets and we drink hot chocolate by the gallons in front of roaring fires. I do not have a fireplace, so I pull my dog under the blanket with me for added warmth.

Today we’ve got the cold, with a terrible windchill, and then a mix of rain, sleet or snow fell last night. These are the days transplanted Northerners wait for. They love to sit back and watch us try to drive on the slick. There’s dumb ole bubba over there in his dually pickup screaming down the highway at 50 until he hits an ice patch. Oops, makes contact with the guardrail and ties up traffic for an hour. Then you got Grandma Gertie who’s scared to go over 5, hits an ice patch and stops cold. The five cars behind her slide into each other and they tie up traffic for an hour and a half. The rest of us just try to navigate the freeways without running into either one of them and the northerners just wish we’d all stay home so they could get where they are going with no trouble.

The schoolchildren all listened eagerly to the radio this morning to see if they get a complete snow day (yeah) or just a delayed opening (boo). Who doesn’t like an unexpected day off? Not so with the company I work for. Oh, I don’t have to come, but I have to burn PTO, which I don’t have, so here I sit. People are gradually starting to arrive.

My dad tells a story of several years ago, he and my mom were coming home from the Lectureship at ACU. It was a freak ice storm that was moving east to west and everyone east of Abilene was trying to get home. Conditions were pretty scary and he and my mom and anther couple were making the best time they could. They came to Ranger Hill which by Texas standards is a pretty steep grade and cars had slid off on both sides of the road. Blocking their lane of traffic was a car stopped dead. My dad got out of the car and ran up to see if he could help and found a woman, gripping the steering wheel frozen with fear. If I remember right, she may have a child or two with her, but was definitely not going anywhere on her own. Nothing was wrong with the car, so my dad had her scoot over and took her wheel, while someone else drove my mom down the hill. Once they hit the bottom, she was fine, but needed an extra hand. How many of us would let some strange man get in the car with us these days? I know I wouldn’t.

Sometimes cold weather brings out the good Samaritans in us, but most of the time it brings out the idiots.

All I can say is take care, stay warm and drive smartly because there are those who won’t.

Peace and joy,

Stevie

Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, All Rights Reserved. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net

New Year

It’s the third day of a new year. Before I go any further let me just say that I have ALWAYS hated New Year’s. Never really got what all the fuss was about. Okay, changing from 1999 to 2000 was a big deal, but the rest of it? Beyond me. I start liking the new year around April. It’s comfortable, I kind of know what to expect, it feels familiar. This year, while I still don’t like New Year’s, I was glad to see 2009 go. It contained some trials for my family, some never to be repeated joys, and some heartbreaking sorrows. One faced a life-threatening illness, but praise God it was caught it in time. I lost a wonderful friend who shared his love of singing with me. Thank you, Glyn.

Like most others, I weathered the recession/downturn/slight depression/whatever you want to call it in fairly decent shape. I got to visit the city of my dreams, London, and got a brand new great nephew. Love you, K! My youngest nephew turned 13, Love YOU C! My niece endured trials I hoped no one my family would ever had to endure, and is stronger as she continues her journey. She also got the job of Mother and is doing great! I love you, H! My oldest nephew spent most of the year employed, except for a short worker’s comp exile and other short economic exiles. You’re the best and I love you, J! My brother and sister-in-law have been rocks with everything that has been thrown at them this year. Love you guys, as well.

2009 was another year with my mom and dad who celebrated 57 years together. I marvel at their relationship. They have been together since they were 18 years old. When they married, Mom had just turned 19 and Dad was still 18, so his mom had to sign for him. They have weathered many storms, some devastating, and many hilltop experiences, like my birth for example. (It's my blog. When my brother gets his blog, he can be the hilltop experience.) Here, 57 years later, they are a shining example to their family and friends. They are both still going strong at 76 and 75. I love you both dearly, Mom and Dad.

So as I stand here, my toes barely wet by this new year, I pause to contemplate what unseen and glorious things may come to pass; what trials and triumphs await me as I journey forth. I know that I don’t have to walk it alone. I have the guidance of my loving and gracious God to travel with me and to carry me when the times get tough.

Bring it on 2010, I’m ready.

Shalom and Happy New Year.

Stevie

Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens. All rights reserved. Contact: faithleap@sbcglobal.net.