I'm a Dr Who fan. I get the craving to revisit my favorite doctor every once in a while, so off I go to once again view my favorite David Tennant episodes. Of all the episodes, my favorites have got to be the ones in the library--Silence in the Library and Forest of the Dead. For those of you not in the know, this is where the doctor meets his wife for the first time and she sees her husband for the last time. It is a strange idea--her timeline is backwards to his. But believe it or not, this is not my point. If you're interested, look it up.
The story takes place in a library. It is a place where all the books ever created are stored. Millions of millions of books are there--all made out of a single forest. Problem is, there was a society within that forest called the Vashta Nerada. This carnivorous society were collected with the wood that made the forests, and now they feed on any flesh that happens to come inside.
As the episodes unfold, more and more people die. One who doesn't is the doctor's companion, Donna. She is transported to another world, a world outside the library but actually right in its center. In this world, she lives a life with a husband and two children. She later finds out that this is an imaginary world, and that the difference between her and the rest of the inhabitants is that she can--and must--escape. The others cannot, as they are all dead.
This is where I must part ways with the series. Oh, my--if you think that the world you inhabit when you're dead is a world of your own creation, a world that exists only because you imagine it--you don't know my Lord. There is a world awaiting us, yes, but it is a world that is so real, so true, so utterly un-fiction, that I can't even begin to think of a word to describe it. I have seen glimpses--wonderful little peeks into a world where you can live the rest of your days in Love. The minute we get there, we will understand that everything up to this point was actually fantasy, This new world will be absolute reality--and it will be marvelous, in the truest sense of the world. We will marvel, be amazed, be humbled, and be exalted: all at the same time.
How can I know this? Because Paul tells us that we now see as if through a mirror--darkly. But then, oh Lord! Then we will see You face to face! Our eyes will be truly open for the first time. I hope that day comes soon!
Showing posts with label heaven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heaven. Show all posts
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
rePENT!!
New day, new prayer. This time the scripture was very short--Jesus saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."
1. Metanoeo. This is a compound word. “Meta” means change “noeo” means thinking.
How that takes me back. Raised in Assemblies, I heard lots of talk about repentance. Not sure I really had much to repent of back then (I accepted the Lord at the age of five), I was terrified that I would die with sin on my soul and go straight to hell. I had heard that if you thought bad thoughts, disobeyed your parents, cursed, or did any number of other bad things and then died without repenting, you would go straight to hell. Therefore, I felt that I was always one small step away from hell.
How different my beliefs are today! Jesus is my friend, my bridegroom, my covering. God is my loving father, my comfort in times of trouble. I understand that I am loved and that I never need fear--Jesus will always keep my free from the punishment that otherwise would have been mine.
When thinking about the Bible reading today, short as it is, I have to say that it's always better to keep things in context. When you read the entire section (Matthew 4), you see that this happened right after Jesus came back from the wilderness. Soon after, he heard that John was in prison, so he went to heaven, stopping on the way so that this prophecy could be fulfilled:
The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,
And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death
Light has dawned.”[f]
And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death
Light has dawned.”[f]
That's why he said "repent"--a new light had dawned upon those sitting in the region and shadow of death. Doesn't that description sound like descriptions of beggars and the lame of the time? They weren't able to leave--but now light has come into their very darkness. This light, according to Jesus, was at hand.
And what do we have to do? Repent. But what does that mean, exactly? I found this explanation of the Greek. Basically, it don't mean what we think it means.
There are two greek words used in this context:
This word is derived from “nous” which means mind. So, metanoeo means to “change your mind”
2. Metamellamai. This is also a compound word. “Meta” means change
“mellamai” means emotions. It means to have a “change of emotions”.
“mellamai” means emotions. It means to have a “change of emotions”.
So in the original Greek, to repent meant to change your mind and change your emotions. That I can do.
I do believe that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. In some mystical sense, it is, in a way, already here. Where Christ is, to my way of thinking, Heaven is also. And St Theresa of Avila states that Christ has no body now on earth but ours. So when we look in our brother's eyes, yes, we can see Christ in him.
I don't mean that we are living in a new world's heaven where the universe is somehow giving us new freedoms and new beings. But I do believe that God has given us a special measure of grace that allows us to partake of the Son of God and his grace. That, to me, is heaven.
So, yes. Repent. Change your thinking. Change your emotions. Embrace the day that Christ has made and fully--completely--rejoice in it!
Friday, February 22, 2013
to my husband, dead these 20 years
Hello, Sweetie!!
Although it's been twenty years, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Highs, lows, hope, dread, and then the final moments with you. I remember walking around your still-warm body, touching your arms, already growing cold, and talking with you. I knew that your spirit was still there. It was so hard to say goodbye, so incredibly difficult to leave that room, knowing that I never would be with you in this way again. At 36 years old, your life had already ended, and I felt that mine was ending, too. This unbelievable thing was really and truly happening.
We never expected it, did we? You were so healthy, we both knew that I would go before you. You had so much ahead of you--seeing your children grow and find their own way, welcoming wives, husbands, grandchildren into the fold, growing old together, and finally retiring to that place in the woods that you longed for. I know that we both envisioned you happily hunting and fishing in your golden years. Instead, you left me to raise our children alone. I'm not going to go into how good a job I did or didn't do. I truly believe that you have been watching and praying for us, and you know it all already. But I do want you to understand how it was after you left.
Your children all miss you terribly, even today. David, too. He doesn't remember you himself; he only sees you through the memories of others. But every one of your children know that you loved them. Every one of them still wants to make you proud. And I think they have. They have grown into such beautiful people. Emily and James, Matthew and Michael live in the woods, just like you wanted to. Emily has often said that you would love it there, and I know she's right. Imagine a lake almost within walking distance! Imagine being able to chop down your own Christmas tree and gather your own firewood (but no more picking up snakes from the road--that was way too scary for this woman!). She is married to a good man, and though you wouldn't agree with his politics, I know you would identify with his gentle spirit.
Val has grown into a good man. He struggles daily with the challenges of raising seven children on his own, but they're his children and he loves them and cares for them with a father's love. He learned that from you, Val. You showed him how to be a father. It's tough, but he doesn't give up. He learned that from you, too. It rings in our ears: A Villanueva never quits! And now he is nearing the end of junior college. He's majoring in archeology, another love that you share. I remember all those mission trips and the fun you had exploring history. Val is sharing that same love with his children now, as well as your love of the beach and camping.
Jeremy is amazing, too. He and Michelle have done a great job showing solidarity and supporting each other in their lives. Their children have great role models. Jeremy is about to graduate, and I couldn't be happier for him. I know that you know about the trials he has faced and the struggles he has triumphed over. He is coming into the potential that you always saw in him. I know that we disagreed about how to discipline, but there was no doubt, ever, that you saw greatness in him--in all our children. You wanted him to discover it in himself. He has.
David, to me, is the most surprising of all. I never expected to see you in him, but you are so present. It's there in the way he walks, speaks, thinks--even in the way he sometimes uses his hands. I am proud of him. He has Asperger's Syndrome, but he doesn't see it as a disability. Instead, he says that it makes him into the person he is today. He loves singing and acting and is determined to make it into a career. I see you in that as well. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn't as supportive of your jewelry aspirations as I could have been. We see things so much more clearly from the other side of history, don't we? It was more than a hobby with you, and you yearned to make it into a career. I'm sorry that I didn't give you the support you needed to make that happen. But I've learned from past mistakes with you. As much as I can, I'm standing behind David and supporting him in his dream. And he's good, Honey! He has a great voice (so does Emily--I don't know about Val and Jeremy--remember him saying "I can't SING!" in children's choir?) and he evens helps others in his class with their singing. I'm afraid, Sweetheart, that he takes after me in that, not you. Remember me trying to teach you to sing? But whatever the makeup of your voice, we all loved it. I never forgot you singing "Streets of Laredo" and "Mariah". Did you know Val even named his younger daughter Mariah? Of course you did.
Val, life is so different now. For many years, everything was a struggle. I felt like half a person. And I was. I take seriously the Bible verse that says that you shall leave your father and mother, cleave to your spouse, and the two shall become one. When you went away, that left half. I spent many years dealing with the loss and learning to become whole again. Our kids, especially Emily, have helped me in that. She has spoken truth to me that I needed to hear, and it's really helped. All the children have been affirming, and I've so appreciated it. I know I made mistakes--too many to count--but they don't hold me to blame for it. They have forgiven me, and that made it much easier to forgive myself.
Today is so different than it was with you. I am my own woman. I'm not afraid, not like I used to be. I love my independence and wouldn't change. I don't see a need to look for another husband. I had that, and it was wonderful, but I don't need it again. I have my memories with you, my life with my children, and my friends and career. I'm truly happy again, and I'm thankful for every day that God gives me.
I am also looking forward in faith to that day when I will come home. I will close my eyes, and when I open them, you will be there--you and Tommy and Leslie and my mom and dad and everyone else that I love and have lost. I look forward to that day, but I no longer yearn for it with all my heart. It will come when it comes, and until then, I have a rich and fulfilling life here.
So Val, be happy. Do the work that God has given you to do. Know that we all think of you and love you and are supremely grateful for the years that God gave us to be with you. We all miss you, but we all know that we'll all be together again one day.
Godspeed, my Love, until then.
Margaret
Although it's been twenty years, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Highs, lows, hope, dread, and then the final moments with you. I remember walking around your still-warm body, touching your arms, already growing cold, and talking with you. I knew that your spirit was still there. It was so hard to say goodbye, so incredibly difficult to leave that room, knowing that I never would be with you in this way again. At 36 years old, your life had already ended, and I felt that mine was ending, too. This unbelievable thing was really and truly happening.
We never expected it, did we? You were so healthy, we both knew that I would go before you. You had so much ahead of you--seeing your children grow and find their own way, welcoming wives, husbands, grandchildren into the fold, growing old together, and finally retiring to that place in the woods that you longed for. I know that we both envisioned you happily hunting and fishing in your golden years. Instead, you left me to raise our children alone. I'm not going to go into how good a job I did or didn't do. I truly believe that you have been watching and praying for us, and you know it all already. But I do want you to understand how it was after you left.
Your children all miss you terribly, even today. David, too. He doesn't remember you himself; he only sees you through the memories of others. But every one of your children know that you loved them. Every one of them still wants to make you proud. And I think they have. They have grown into such beautiful people. Emily and James, Matthew and Michael live in the woods, just like you wanted to. Emily has often said that you would love it there, and I know she's right. Imagine a lake almost within walking distance! Imagine being able to chop down your own Christmas tree and gather your own firewood (but no more picking up snakes from the road--that was way too scary for this woman!). She is married to a good man, and though you wouldn't agree with his politics, I know you would identify with his gentle spirit.
Val has grown into a good man. He struggles daily with the challenges of raising seven children on his own, but they're his children and he loves them and cares for them with a father's love. He learned that from you, Val. You showed him how to be a father. It's tough, but he doesn't give up. He learned that from you, too. It rings in our ears: A Villanueva never quits! And now he is nearing the end of junior college. He's majoring in archeology, another love that you share. I remember all those mission trips and the fun you had exploring history. Val is sharing that same love with his children now, as well as your love of the beach and camping.
Jeremy is amazing, too. He and Michelle have done a great job showing solidarity and supporting each other in their lives. Their children have great role models. Jeremy is about to graduate, and I couldn't be happier for him. I know that you know about the trials he has faced and the struggles he has triumphed over. He is coming into the potential that you always saw in him. I know that we disagreed about how to discipline, but there was no doubt, ever, that you saw greatness in him--in all our children. You wanted him to discover it in himself. He has.
David, to me, is the most surprising of all. I never expected to see you in him, but you are so present. It's there in the way he walks, speaks, thinks--even in the way he sometimes uses his hands. I am proud of him. He has Asperger's Syndrome, but he doesn't see it as a disability. Instead, he says that it makes him into the person he is today. He loves singing and acting and is determined to make it into a career. I see you in that as well. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn't as supportive of your jewelry aspirations as I could have been. We see things so much more clearly from the other side of history, don't we? It was more than a hobby with you, and you yearned to make it into a career. I'm sorry that I didn't give you the support you needed to make that happen. But I've learned from past mistakes with you. As much as I can, I'm standing behind David and supporting him in his dream. And he's good, Honey! He has a great voice (so does Emily--I don't know about Val and Jeremy--remember him saying "I can't SING!" in children's choir?) and he evens helps others in his class with their singing. I'm afraid, Sweetheart, that he takes after me in that, not you. Remember me trying to teach you to sing? But whatever the makeup of your voice, we all loved it. I never forgot you singing "Streets of Laredo" and "Mariah". Did you know Val even named his younger daughter Mariah? Of course you did.
Val, life is so different now. For many years, everything was a struggle. I felt like half a person. And I was. I take seriously the Bible verse that says that you shall leave your father and mother, cleave to your spouse, and the two shall become one. When you went away, that left half. I spent many years dealing with the loss and learning to become whole again. Our kids, especially Emily, have helped me in that. She has spoken truth to me that I needed to hear, and it's really helped. All the children have been affirming, and I've so appreciated it. I know I made mistakes--too many to count--but they don't hold me to blame for it. They have forgiven me, and that made it much easier to forgive myself.
Today is so different than it was with you. I am my own woman. I'm not afraid, not like I used to be. I love my independence and wouldn't change. I don't see a need to look for another husband. I had that, and it was wonderful, but I don't need it again. I have my memories with you, my life with my children, and my friends and career. I'm truly happy again, and I'm thankful for every day that God gives me.
I am also looking forward in faith to that day when I will come home. I will close my eyes, and when I open them, you will be there--you and Tommy and Leslie and my mom and dad and everyone else that I love and have lost. I look forward to that day, but I no longer yearn for it with all my heart. It will come when it comes, and until then, I have a rich and fulfilling life here.
So Val, be happy. Do the work that God has given you to do. Know that we all think of you and love you and are supremely grateful for the years that God gave us to be with you. We all miss you, but we all know that we'll all be together again one day.
Godspeed, my Love, until then.
Margaret
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