One of the most wonderful things about being a born-again Christian is the absolute certainty that eternal joy is just around the bend—and that in heaven, we will be reunited with all our beloved believers who’ve gone on ahead.  Here’s what two elderly Christian friends had to say to each other as they faced an imminent, albeit temporary, separation. 
 
They sat in companionable silence for a while, letting their minds drift.
         
Finally, Sadie reached out and took her friend’s hands in her own.
         
“Beulah, my dear, I just wanted to say that you have become my dearest friend in these last few months, and I’m so grateful for you.” She swallowed hard; somehow she hadn’t imagined this as being a difficult monologue. “Will you please remember that?”
         
Beulah’s eyes were wide with surprise.
         
“Sadie Sparrow, are you trying to tell me something? Are you going on ahead?”
         
“I think so,” Sadie said, smiling tenderly at her friend. “I think it will be soon. I feel it in my bones, as my mother used to say.”
         
Beulah squeezed her hands. “Well, that’s just fine, Sadie. I will miss you, but it will only be for a little while.”
         
“That’s right, Beulah. Just a short time, in light of eternity.”
         
They smiled at each other, not attempting to hide the tears in their eyes.
         
“Sadie,” Beulah said finally, “once you’ve had a chance to see Ed and your folks and everyone, would you do me a favor? Find my Norbert, and tell him that I’ll be with him just as soon as I can. And tell him that Bunny’s wonderful. Will you do that for me?”
 
--From The Song of Sadie Sparrow, pages 167-168 

When the question of the age of the earth arises, we are most likely to hear one of two opinions: That the science is settled in favor of billions of years, or that its age doesn’t matter – what matters is ____(insert a favorite cause)______.
 
These responses share an important characteristic: they are both lies.
 
First, the science is far from settled. In fact, the evidence strongly supports a young earth in a universe that’s not even 10,000 years old.
 
For proof, look here. Better yet, check out Jay Hall’s excellent book YES: Young Earth Science and the Dawn of a New Worldview. In it, Hall presents an avalanche of evidence that the old earth model can’t possibly be true – evidence that spans disciplines from geology to paleontology. He discusses the history of various tools and techniques that have been used to promote the illusion of an old earth, and reviews some of the data that are normally downplayed or ignored completely. What’s more, Hall does it all in a uniquely breezy and easy-to-read format that should make it as useful for youngsters as it is for us old folks.
 
Second, the age of the earth, and the universe, is critically important; what we believe about it could determine our eternal destiny because it impacts what we believe about God.
 
Forget everything you’ve heard about all the possible scenarios, from directed panspermia to punctuated equilibrium. In the end, all origins theories fit neatly into one of two possible categories: either the Time Plus Chance formula of evolutionary models, or Special Creation as outlined in the Bible.  Although some scientists would like us to believe it’s so complex that we shouldn’t pretty our little heads over it, there really is no other option; the universe as we know it came into existence either by random chance over vast ages, or it was created fairly recently by an Intelligent Designer.
 
Consider the implications: If any of the Time Plus Chance theories is true, God may or may not exist; He would in fact be irrelevant in any of these scenarios, because everything could have come into being without Him. But if Time Plus Chance is impossible, then Special Creation must be true – and the Intelligent Designer, AKA God, must exist!
 
Which God is the real deal? That’s another study, one that has been covered in many books (including my own, Heaven Without Her). For the moment, if you’re not yet convinced, I hope you will take the time to satisfy yourself on the origins question. And by all means, include YES: Young Earth Science and the Dawn of a New Worldview on your reading list; I think you’ll enjoy it.​

I’ve been reading some great biographies lately, thanks in no small part to the recommendations of Dr. and Mrs. David Saxon of Maranatha Baptist University. Chief among them is To the Golden Shore, the fabulous 1952 story of American missionary Adoniram Judson. But now, coming in a close second, is a book that Mrs. Saxon recommended in particular: Lives of the Three Mrs. Judsons (Filiquarian Publishing).
 
First published by Arabella Stuart in 1855, Lives of the Three Mrs. Judsons uses multiple sources (in particular, their letters to friends and loved ones) to paint astounding portraits of three remarkable women—women who, one after the other, helped their beloved Adoniram bring the gospel to the people of Burma in the first half of the 19th century.
 
This was not a call to luxury.
 
In the first place, the trip from New England to Burma, via India, took literally months, mostly with no land in sight, via ships we 21st century creampuffs would never set foot on. And once there, they found the accommodations primitive, the climate oppressive, the government often brutal, and the medical care practically non-existent, with no one to help them deal with the illnesses that frequently assailed them and their precious children.
 
The Burman people were not unfriendly, but for a long time, communicating with them was next to impossible. Adoniram and the first Mrs. Judson, Ann, had to learn a new language, complete with a new alphabet; To the Golden Shore shows pages of their writing in this strange new tongue, and it looked to me like a bunch of circles piling up on one another.
 
I don’t know which of the three Mrs. Judsons had the most difficult time.
 
It was Ann who saw Adoniram spending months in a ghastly jail, being hung upside down by shackles night after night. She had to beg, borrow and steal access to him in order to bring him food and consolation—and, eventually, to smuggle in his Burmese Bible translation-in-process for safekeeping against increasingly hostile Burman officials. 
 
The circumstances of Ann and Adoniram’s lives together were horrible by any standards. Yet apparently she did not seek relief from these trials. Instead, as she wrote in a letter home towards the end of her life, “The anguish, the agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to delineate on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good, and the advancement of Christ’s church among the heathen.” (Page 78) 
 
Ann died in 1826, leaving a broken-hearted Adoniram to carry on alone. But in 1834, he married Sarah, the widow of George Boardman. The Boardmans had been missionaries to the Karen people, and Sarah stayed in Burma to continue this work after George’s death in 1831.
 
The cruel trials continued for the second Mrs. Judson, with Adoniram’s failing health being the most painful.
                                                     
But Sarah was never without comfort. As she wrote to her husband when he was sent off on a long sea voyage to treat a severe cough, “I hope I do not feel unwilling that our Heavenly Father should do as he thinks best with us; but my heart shrinks from the prospect of living in this dark, sinful, friendless world, without you … But the most satisfactory view is to look away to that blissful world, where separations are unknown. There, my beloved Judson, we shall surely meet each other; and we shall also meet many loved ones who have gone before us to that haven of rest.” (Page 140)
 
As it turned out, Adoniram recovered from this illness. It was Sarah whose health would soon begin to fail. She died in 1845, en route to America for medical treatment.
 
Adoniram married a third time the following year. His new wife was Emily Chubbock, a writer whom he commissioned to write a biography of Sarah. Her Memoirs of Mrs. Sarah B. Judson was published in 1850; her husband was pleased with the manuscript, she said, and she cared little whether anyone else liked it.
 
The third Mrs. Judson also fell gravely ill in the mission field. It was then that she wrote a poem entitled “Love’s Last Wish,” which included these lines:
 
“Thou say’st I’m fading day by day,
And in thy face I read thy fears;
It would be hard to pass away
So soon, and leave thee to thy tears.
I hoped to linger by thy side,
Until thy homeward call was given,
Then silent to my pillow glide,
And wake upon thy breast in heaven.”
 
Emily recovered, however, and her wish to outlive Adoniram was granted.  “Closing Scenes in the Life of Dr. Judson,” her moving account of his last days and his 1850 death, is reprinted in Lives of the Three Mrs. Judsons (pages 154-161)—as is an excerpt from her poem, “To My Husband” (page 167): 
 
“Here closely nestled by thy side,
Thy arm around me thrown,
I ask no more. In mirth and pride
I’ve stood—oh so alone!
Now, what is all this world to me,
Since I have found my world in thee?
 
“Oh if we are so happy here,
Amid our toils and pains,
With thronging cares and dangers near
And marr’d by earthly stains,
How great must be the compass given
Our souls, to bear the bliss of heaven!”
 
Oh, to have the eternal eyes of these three women! But reading about them, as well as scores of others featured in biographies and books on Christian history, has at least shown me that it is possible to truly live for Christ, and for eternity. May we all learn to do just that. 

It’s no secret that I am a big fan of the preaching of Chris Carrillo. Every month, he brings terrific biblical insights to the folks gathered for the Christian Music Hour at Care-age of Brookfield.
 
Take, for example, his message from this past Sunday. Please don’t miss it. I believe you will be moved by it, and you may even find yourself changed.  And for once, that’s all I’m going to say by way of introduction.

If you’d like to hear more from our favorite preacher, please check out our Messages from Chris Carrillo page.
 
And if you’re reading this via email, be sure to click on the headline above so you, too, can hear “Every Picture Tells a Story.”

If you’re like most Americans, you’re probably acquainted with dozens of diseases and dastardly circumstances, from breast cancer to unwanted pregnancy, heart disease to homelessness.
 
And why not? Each one has been transformed into a magnificent cause under the management of at least one well-funded non-profit. And each one is regularly brought to our attention through well-publicized “awareness” campaigns – the thinking being, I suppose, that if you’re aware of such a cause, you’re likely to make a donation, desperately needed for things like research and lobbying efforts and covering generous executive salaries.  
 
Just one example for the football buffs out there: You have no doubt noticed that most players add shocking pink to their uniforms each October, thereby "raising awareness" of breast cancer.  After all, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And if more people are aware of breast cancer, more women will undergo mammograms, more biopsies will be performed (most of them negative, thankfully), more lumpectomies will be conducted, more radiation and chemotherapy will be prescribed, and more cash will be flowing into the pockets of nearly everyone concerned (the exceptions being patients and their insurers). 

​But the jury is still out on the big question: will more women's lives be saved? Yes, the healthcare industry is catching more cancers earlier. But the slow-growing ones may not have ever killed their hosts, who end up being subjected to life-diminishing therapies; and the fast-growing cancers can apparently not be stopped permanently. 

So the upshot may be a great increase in the number of cancers detected, a great increase in the number of "cures," but possibly a net improvement of zero in actual lives saved. I'm no statistician, but it really makes me wonder. 

Don't get me wrong: There are a number of women I care about, and have cared about, who have fought the good fight against breast cancer, and are doing so to this day. My prayers are with them for stamina and peace and healing and whatever else they need, and with their doctors for wisdom. 

But I have a question: Are these women and their loved ones really better off because of these "awareness" campaigns? Yes, they raise a lot of money for the organizations whose job it is to raise money for themselves, as well as for "sister" organizations like Planned Parenthood. And they certainly make participants and supporters, both individual and corporate, feel good about their contributions; who can argue against a boost in self-esteem? 

But here's a far more important question: Are we raising awareness of the wrong disease?

The fact is, underlying all this frantic "awareness" activity is the idea that longevity and luxury are the ultimate goals in life -- that, in the end, living just as long as we want to live, and living well, are our entire reason for being.
 
I suppose that makes some sense for those clinging to the idea that this life is all there is. But these folks are tragically wrong, because it's demonstrably true that we will all live eternally one place or another. And it's demonstrably true that our personal destinations for all eternity depend exclusively on our relationship with Jesus Christ.  

This is what makes it so sad that most of the world, led by a spiritually blind news media, spends so much time and energy and share of mind on these eternally useless fund-raisers.  

I think we Christians should launch our own awareness campaign. Maybe we could get whoever decides these things to declare a Jesus Christ Awareness month. We could suggest a veritable explosion of media coverage on Resurrection Day. 

Just think of the message: The disease is sin, the solution is repentance and faith leading to salvation through the blood of Jesus Christ, and the cure is eternal. And no donations (or brightly colored accessories) are needed! How could it fail? 
 
It may take us some time to get our ducks in order on this one. But the good news is that you needn’t wait. If you have yet to repent and trust in Christ for eternal life, you can do it today. 

​If you were raised in small-town America in the 1950s or 1960s, you probably remember only too well the glorious summertime freedoms kids enjoyed then—blue-skied mornings when you and your buddies set off on your bikes in search of a mystery, sweltering afternoons at the local public swimming pool or quarry, friend-filled evenings devoted to Hide and Seek or Statue or Simon Says.
 
Memories like these were one reason for the title Mary Danielsen gave her irresistible new book. As she writes in its prologue, “There was only one summertime rule: Be Home Before Dark. No exceptions … home where a light is always on, and someone is happy you arrived safely. Home before things just get ugly out there.”
 
Such memories certainly evoke feelings of nostalgia, “a sort of melancholy, dream-like memory of some pleasant experience, or of a simpler or happier time.” But as Danielsen points out, the word “originally meant much more; a ‘strong desire to go home.’ A ‘longing for something far away.’"
 
And there’s more, she says: Amazingly, “The earliest form of the word actually meant, ‘He returns.’” Which of course is what Jesus has promised to do—in His second coming, certainly, but even before that, when He comes to take His children home to heaven before the prophesied Great Tribulation plunges this world into terrifying darkness.
 
“I love that,” the author writes of this original definition, “because I do long for that simpler time sometimes, but even more so, I long for Him to return. Perhaps today, I will be home before dark.”
 
An irresistible read
 
This prologue is a compelling introduction to a collection of 69 short essays on a wide variety of biblical topics. Each one relates in some way to the end times foretold in scripture. And each is anchored by a pertinent Bible verse.
 
Home Before Dark provided me with a number of “aha!” moments, simply by presenting familiar topics in ways I’d never considered before.
 
For instance, “Just a Second” examines the time involved in 1 Corinthians 15:51’s promise that “in the twinkling of an eye we shall all be changed.” How long is that? “The General of Electric measured the twinkling of an eye,” Danielsen writes, “and it comes out to a deca-second, or about a tenth of a second, lest you think that the Bible doesn’t talk about the divisions of seconds and such, because it does. We will receive our new bodies in a deca-second. We won’t even be able to wave bye-bye.”
 
Another example: In “Bits and Bytes,” Danielsen talks about cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin and how they’re preparing us for the impending cashless society. “Trendy currencies could be just the thing to get people to think they are just the ‘common man’ bank-free money they’ve been waiting for,” rather than a tool of the global economy and the global government’s airtight control over all buying and selling (per Revelation 13:17).
 
In reading this book—slowly, nursing it because it’s not long enough and I didn’t want it to end—I often thought “well said!”

Let me give you just one example. In “A Question of Balance,” she laments yoga’s growing impact on the church. “Most Americans tend to leave their spirituality in the pew on Sundays,” she writes, “not being able to make the connection that other religions have long mastered: that spirituality is your life, not just a hobby you can pick up and leave off as you please, like knitting.” And then she adds, “In the same way that Christianity is evangelistic in practice, so does yoga represent the Hindu missionary arm.” Exactly.
 
Home Before Dark even gave me many smiles; this Danielsen girl has a great sense of humor, or at least a sense of humor that appeals to my own.
 
It’s not just her engaging titles, like “No Shallow End in this Pool,” “When Deloreans Fly,” “Weapons of Math Destruction” and “Living Stones I Presume.”

It’s more that, in the midst of the most serious subjects imaginable, she tosses in many observations that tickled my funny bone. For instance, in “Someone To Watch Over Me,” she writes “Credit scores debuted in the 1980s and along with our cholesterol level gave financially comfortable Americans a couple more numbers to fuss over.” And she opens “Cleanliness and Godliness” thusly: “John Wesley first uttered the maxim ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’ in a sermon back in the 18th century. I have no idea what made him say such a thing.” Indeed.
 
Hope to see you all there
 
I could go on. The author touches on everything from the miracle that is modern-day Israel to Oz and the gold standard, from the deceitfulness of charm and beauty to warnings of final judgment. There wasn’t an essay that didn’t make me stop and think.
 
Then, in a persuasive epilogue, Danielsen makes the case for the pre-tribulation rapture of the church.
 
“So, I challenge you today,” she writes in closing, “if you are not watching and waiting for Christ on a regular basis, that you get your nose out of whatever distraction has you captive and make your priorities heaven’s priorities. You will never be the same.”
 
Her conclusion?
 
“I plan to be home before dark.”
 
Me too. And I pray that this is your plan as well.