Tag Archives: jesus

day.one.hundred.ninety.three.

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thinking about resurrection of the body today. not just my savior’s, but my dad’s. someone got me thinking about what an amazing easter celebration it must be in heaven and now my dad is living it out. in his resurrected body.  oh, the thought of heaven. a place where sadness isn’t a glimpse of a thought. pain is forever erased. love abounding. easter is the day that death lost! i cannot begin to imagine the victory party going on right now. 

this morning, our pastor spoke of 1 corinthians 15.  here are the verses that resonated with me today, from the message:

But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:

Death swallowed by triumphant Life!
Who got the last word, oh, Death?
Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?

It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!

yes.  death, who is afraid of you now?  where is your sting? you may have taken my dad’s body, but his spirit lives anew! oh, to hear that trumpet blast!  hasten that day when i will receive my new body, see dad again, but more so see my savior’s face.

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day.one.hundred.four.

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this picture was taken new year’s eve. my last day at my parents’ house. my boy seen sitting on the couch. the magical glow of a christmas tree.  i have not been taking pictures lately.  life got in the way and i let it. instead, i have been thinking back to my time here just a few weeks ago.  when i left my dad had just started a second, more harsh, round of chemo.  today i found out it didn’t work. the leukemia cells are fighting back. and winning.  the doctors do not want to put dad through another round of chemo right away. so they are sending him home with an experimental drug.  our hope now lies in the unknown.  scratch that. as a christian i should say my hope is in our heavenly father. it is. believe me. will he use this unknown drug to perform a miracle? i feel like this is what it will take.  my dad has no other option now. before, we were hoping the chemo would  work. it didn’t. now we hope.  this could be our last hope.  my favorite story in the bible revealing and intimate interaction with jesus is of a woman who was suffering with an incurable disease for over ten years. i’m sure she tried everything under the sun, placing her hope in all of them. until one day (probably right before she was about to give up) she heard rumors that jesus was in town.  she found the strength to muscle her way through the crowd with such determination to just touch jesus. and she did. she reached out to cling to the hem of his robe. with tremendous faith that he would heal her, he did. the bible says jesus stopped dead in his tracks because he felt the power go through him. i believe jesus was there that day for her. he knew her ailment. her incurable disease. he loved her and had compassion for her and saw her tremendous faith. and he healed her. all she did was cling to his robe, clutching ever so tightly. i know my dad is clinging on. we all are. wanting to have God feel the power move through himself and wave over my dad’s body. we want to see a miracle.

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