Everlasting Place
  • Home
  • One way
    • Proof
  • Sadie Sparrow
    • Sadie Sparrow Excerpt
    • Author Chat
    • Articles
    • Book Reviews
  • Memoir
    • Memoir Excerpts
    • Reviews, interviews & endorsements
  • Blogs
    • Eternal eyes: a blog about forever
    • Golden years: a blog about the elderly
  • Old folks
    • Planting tips for Christians
  • Messages from Chris Carrillo
  • Library
  • Bookstore
  • Contact

"I'm a good person"

4/29/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
Here for your reading pleasure--I hope!--is another tale from the evangelism front. ​

“If there 
is a god,” said the photographer, her voice muffled by the tower of equipment in her face, “point your chin down a little, that’s it. If he or she exists, then he just wants me to be kind to others. And to be happy. God just wants us to be happy. Chin up a bit. Good.”

It was tough to maintain a pleasant expression in the face of this all-too-familiar tripe. But I was paying plenty for the privilege of being contorted into these painfully photogenic positions, so I gave it my best shot.

“I think that’ll do it, if you want to relax,” she said, standing erect again and beaming at me. She was a pretty young woman, with dark eyes and shiny dark brown hair and dimples that had probably driven many a high-school boy to distraction a decade ago.

“The thing is,” she added, turning her attention back to her camera to do whatever it is that digital photographers do to transfer their work to the computer screen, “I’m a really good person. If there’s a heaven, I know I’ll be a shoo-in. Now, just give me a few minutes and I’ll get this on the computer for you.” She dashed out of the jewel-toned room, leaving me alone with the props covering every spare square inch in the room.
I argued silently with the real God.

“Lord,” I said, squeezing my eyes closed to keep my mind from wandering, “can I just give it a rest? I gave her my testimony, I told her why I believe in you and your precious Word, can I please just let it go now and leave?”

Silence. Of course. God doesn’t speak to us through our ears, just in our hearts, through His word.

Luke 15:7 popped into my head: “I say to you that likewise there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine just persons who need no repentance.” I could almost hear Jesus saying these words.

I’ll be honest: My heart did not leap at the prospect of bringing joy to my Savior; it sank with the burden of needing to explain the Gospel to someone who obviously hadn’t been listening to my in-a-nutshell overview of how I’d discovered the Bible to be uniquely true, the inerrant and infallible word of God.

I sighed loudly to express my unhappiness. “Okay, Lord,” I thought. “But make her bring it up, will you?”

I looked around at all the stuff on the floors and shelves and chairs in the room. There was enough to open a toy store, everything from balls and dolls to teddy bears and funny hats. I spotted a beautiful globe hidden behind three balloons on a shelf in the corner. I wished for a moment that I could go back to being a normal person, able to look at these items and enjoy them, instead of worrying about the immortal souls of the photographer and her kids and everyone else she was in a position to influence.

And then I remembered what I’d been like as a normal person, and where I’d been unwittingly preparing to spend eternity. Not a pretty picture.

“All set,” the photographer called cheerfully. “Come and look!”

I was her only customer that afternoon, although with her puppy-dog personality she probably shouted out such instructions even with a waiting-room full of subjects.  She’d told me she had two children and three dogs; maybe yelling was the only way to communicate in her household.

I found her in a little nook off the waiting room, seated at a computer desk and clicking away enthusiastically with her mouse. One by one, she showed me the portraits she’d just taken, she apparently thrilled with her work, I cringing inwardly at the double chin I’d never noticed before, not to mention the bags under my eyes and the thickening of my cheeks and neck.

“I quit smoking three packs a day a few years ago,” I volunteered, answering the question she must surely have been asking herself about how I could’ve let myself get so pudgy. “I used to be thin.”

She paused the slide show and looked at me curiously.

“How’d you quit? I’ve tried and tried and I just can’t seem to do it.”

“Well, I was praying for a dear little boy,” I said, trying to tell in a few words a story I’d told at length so many times that it bored me, “and I just sensed that it was time – that my quitting smoking would be the answer to this particular prayer, as nonsensical as it seemed at the time. So I did.”

“Wow,” she said. “So, didn’t it bother you?”

I admitted that it hadn’t been the easiest thing in the world, and that it still bothered me at times.

“But the point is that I couldn’t have done it at all without God’s instruction and His help,” I said. “No way.

She nodded, staring at me intently, as if I’d just revealed some complex mathematical equation that was taking a while to sink in.

“I quit drinking at the same time, to make the smoking easier,” I added. “And I was not a casual drinker. But that part of it was a piece of cake – He took away my taste for booze entirely.”

“Wow,” she said again, swiveling her chair towards me now, apparently forgetting the reason we were sitting there.

Encouraged, I pressed on. “The Bible says that when we make Jesus our Lord and Savior, He makes us new creatures, so that we’re able to put off the old and put on the new. I guess maybe this is an example of that happening.”

“I can’t imagine giving all that up,” she said, wide-eyed. I couldn’t tell whether she was awed or horrified by the idea.  

Uncomfortably aware of the chipmunk-cheeked, full-screen photo of someone who looked vaguely like me watching on, like a third person in this conversation, I continued.

“Jesus said that if He makes us free, we’ll be free indeed,” I said. “And being free of cigarettes and alcohol is pretty cool. But it’s nothing compared with being free of the fear of death.”

She lifted her eyebrows at that one. “What do you mean? You’re not afraid of dying?”

“Not really,” I said. “I know I’m going to heaven, and it’s going to be unimaginably wonderful. But let me ask you this: Has anyone ever explained the Gospel to you?”

“Not really,” she said. “We weren’t really brought up that way.”

“Then let me tell you about it,” I said, and since she didn’t bolt or change the subject, I plunged ahead. I told her about how heaven is a free gift from God, how man is a sinner and can’t save himself, how God is not only totally loving but is also totally just and will not tolerate sin in His heaven.

“If that’s true, then I’m in trouble,” she said brightly. “I know I’ve sinned. And more than once.”

“Who hasn’t,” I said, “countless times?” I explained that sin means breaking any of God’s commandments – lying, for instance, or coveting what other people have, or failing to love the Lord with all one’s heart, soul, mind and strength. Then I delivered the good news about how God the Son had shown up on earth in the person of Jesus, had lived a perfect life in order to become the perfect sacrifice, had died a tortuous death on the cross to pay the penalty for our sins, and had risen after three days to defeat death once and for all.

“We sinned and God paid the penalty for us,” I concluded. “The book of Ephesians tells us, ‘For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.’ And we can receive that free gift by repenting – sorrowing over and turning from our sin – and by confessing Jesus Christ as our Savior and our Lord.”

But halfway through that last sentence, her eyes glazed over, and I knew I’d lost her.

“Well, that’s all very interesting,” she said, turning back to the computer screen and reaching for the mouse again. “I’m just not sure it’s for me.”

Sighing inwardly, I fished a gospel tract out of my purse. 

“Well, why don’t you give it some thought?” I said, handing her the tract, a great little synopsis of the gospel points I’d just covered. “Maybe take a look at this when you have a chance?”

“Sure, thanks,” she said, tucking it under her mouse pad. “But like I said, I don’t think I have anything to worry about; I’m really a good person. So, anyway, take a look at this shot – I think it’s pretty nice …”

I wondered if the tract would find its way into the wastebasket as soon as I walked out the door, and comforted myself with the thought that, if it did, a cleaning person might find it tonight.

Either way, God had promised: “My word will not return void.”

I left a few minutes later carrying a CD with a bunch of pictures that I wouldn’t want my dog to see (my fault, not hers) and feeling discouraged by her failure to jump for joy over the Gospel – or my failure to explain it coherently.

I was halfway home before I realized with a happy heart that God had done it again: in a snit, I’d asked him to get the photographer to bring up the subject of Him. He’d answered my prayer just like that.
0 Comments

What exactly is truth?

4/22/2020

1 Comment

 
Picture
When I was younger, "truth" was a personal concept meaning whatever made me happy; there were no absolutes of any kind.  For instance, when I was in my early 20s, my truth said that recreational drugs, alcohol, and tobacco were perfectly safe. That a good sex life and a high-flying career were every woman’s right. And that evolution had proven religion a crock, so let’s eat, drink and be merry, for one of these years we were all going to die!

Truth was, after all, completely subjective.

Not that I’d been born a relativist. I had once known certain things to be true – my Granny was the best, there were parts of the world where it never snowed, lying to Momma about sleeping over at Rosie’s so that we could sleep out in our back yard was very dumb, and starving children in China would be grateful for my rutabaga.
​
But somewhere along the line, I had fallen for the idea that your interpretation of truth was every bit as valid as mine.

How this happened, I’m not sure. It might have had something to do with studying Russian History at UWM and doing a term paper on the Soviet definition of “Pravda,” which apparently means “truth.” In the course of researching this subject, I learned that to the Communists, truth was anything that was good for the Communist Party. To write my paper, I had to get to the point where this definition made some sense to me; maybe the mental gymnastics this exercise required had impaired my ability to recognize objective truth.

Or maybe it was the fallout from an analysis I did, for another college paper, on the Big Three news magazines’ treatment of the Thomas Eagleton affair in the 1972 presidential campaign.

“I don’t know what’s true anymore,” I’d told a classmate I’ll call Ginny on the way out of class the day we turned our papers in.

“Because Nixon won after all?” she asked, remembering that my paper had had something to do with the McGovern campaign.

I shook my head. “Because I discovered that U.S. News & World Report is the most objective of the news magazines.”

“Ha!” Ginny laughed delightedly; she was the first conservative kid I’d ever known, and I hadn’t yet taken the Econ 101 class that would show me the error of my ways. U.S. News was her magazine of choice; Time was mine. “Let’s go get a drink and you can tell me all about it,” she added.

We headed over to a dive of a bar on Oakland Avenue – one of my favorite bars, it featured a grungy atmosphere, largely disgusting clientele, and great prices.

“So tell me about it,” she said after we’d seated ourselves in a booth with our drinks – a Lite beer for me, a rum and coke for her.

“You remember Eagleton, don’t you? McGovern’s vice presidential candidate?”

She grinned and nodded. “I remember.”

“Right,” I said, wondering how someone I liked so much could have been on the wrong side in the McGovern/Nixon race. “So you remember when it came out that Eagleton had been treated for depression?”

“Yes – with electroshock, I think. Pretty scary that McGovern would choose someone with that kind of past as his running mate.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “But what was scary was that at first the news media were all over McGovern for saying he would stand by Eagleton – all of them, even Time and Newsweek. U.S. News, too, of course – that was to be expected.”

“McGovern was practically a Communist,” Ginny said in apparent defense of all three magazines.

“Separate issue,” I said evenly, saving that argument for another time. “My point is that when McGovern caved in to their pressure, and replaced Eagleton with Shriver, all of a sudden the press went nuts on him for dumping on the mentally ill! All of them, that is, except for U.S. News & World Report.”

“They stuck to their guns?”

“Yes,” I admitted, though it pained me to say so. “U.S. News said that McGovern had done the right thing.”

“Objective reporting is alive and well somewhere,” she said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Objective reporting?" What a funny thing to say. “Of course it’s alive and well. And it always will be. How can you doubt it?” 

************** 

Except I’d been horribly wrong about that; the Time and Newsweek flip-flops were just the opening salvos in the mainstream news media’s all-out attack on objective truth.

“It is not enough to refrain from publishing fake news or to take ordinary care to avoid mistakes,” said newspaper-publishing legend Joseph Pulitzer many years ago. “You’ve got to make everyone connected with the paper believe that accuracy is to a newspaper what virtue is to a woman.”

I knew from first-hand experience what happened to a woman’s virtue. By the 1990s, the same thing had apparently befallen American journalism – in the process, nurturing a subjective, devil-may-care attitude towards truth in stony hearts like mine. 

(From Heaven Without Her, pages 88-90)
1 Comment

Whatever happened to truth?

4/14/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
When exactly did truth become a question of one person's worldview vs. another's? Why did we allow feelings to fill the void left by its demise? And what can we possibly do to restore it to its rightful place? 

These are important questions. If we remain disinterested in truth, we will remain alienated from our Creator. And that undoubtedly means not only a dismal future for our nation in this life, but perhaps for a majority of our citizens through all eternity.
 
I began pondering these questions early on in my search for ultimate truth, particularly as I tried to share my most stunning discoveries with a skeptical girlfriend named Anne. Several of these forays are outlined in my memoir Heaven Without Her. Here, for instance, is what I reported after I'd unloaded some heavy-duty scientific artillery on her during a round of golf, apparently missing all my targets that day:
 
What I’d shared with Anne was just the tip of the iceberg in the case against evolution theory’s chance-plus-time idea–and therefore in the case for an Intelligent Designer.
 
I doubt that I’d convinced her of anything that day. Still, someone had obviously been planting seeds of belief in her heart, and maybe I’d watered them a little. And maybe they would one day germinate and grow into a faith that would crush her doubts just as surely as it had mine.
 
Reflecting on our conversation later that night, sitting at my kitchen table while Dave and the dogs snoozed in the living room, I longed for a day when Anne would be sitting firmly on the fence on this issue, needing only a good shove to fall onto the side of what I now knew was the Truth.
 
I flipped through my Bible and pulled out a page of quotes that I’d typed up in anticipation of such a day. They just might do the job.
 
My favorite was from evolutionist Rich Lewontin, who wrote in the January 9, 1997, issue of The New York Review:

  •  We take the side of science in spite of the patent absurdity of some of its constructs, in spite of its failure to fulfill many of its extravagant promises of health and life, in spite of the tolerance of the scientific community for unsubstantiated just-so stories, because we have a prior commitment, a commitment to materialism. It is not that the methods and institutions of science somehow compel us to accept a material explanation of the phenomenal world, but, on the contrary, that we are forced by our a priori adherence to material causes to … produce material explanations, no matter how counterintuitive … Moreover, that materialism is absolute, for we cannot allow a Divine Foot in the door.  (Richard Lewontin, “Billions and billions of demons,” The New York Review, p. 31, 9 January 1997) 

Running a close second in my heart was this quote from Aldous Huxley of Brave New World fame, whose grandfather Thomas Huxley had been one of the earliest and most ardent promoters of Darwin’s theories:

  • I had motives for not wanting the world to have a meaning; consequently assumed that it had none, and was able without any difficulty to find satisfying reasons for this assumption . . . The philosopher who finds no meaning in the world is not concerned exclusively with a problem in pure metaphysics; he is also concerned to prove that there is no valid reason why he personally should not do as he wants to do ... For myself . . . the philosophy of meaninglessness was essentially an instrument of liberation . . . We objected to the morality because it interfered with our sexual freedom . . .  (Aldous Huxley, Ends and Means, London: Chatto & Windus, 1938, 270, 272-273)
 
Anne wouldn’t consider these quotes evidence, I knew. Nor did I, not really. I just found it incredibly interesting, not to mention heartbreaking, that these prominent opinion leaders shut God out for reasons other than the pursuit of truth–and then participated in foisting these teachings on entire generations of children.
 
--From Heaven Without Her, pages 121-122
0 Comments

Deja vu

4/9/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
It's easy to become discouraged about what's happening in this country, to mourn the passing of what was once a very special nation rooted in the word of God and the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

It helps to put things into the perspective of what was truly the most blessed nation of all time, ancient Israel. Anyone who has ever read through the Old Testament has no doubt seen the parallels between then and now. Consider just a few:

Then: They burned their sons and daughters as sacrifices to their gods (Deuteronomy 12:31, for instance).

Now: We sacrifice our children to the god of this world, and the god of convenience, in federally funded abortion mills across the land.

Then: They worshiped useless idols. As Isaiah said (46:7), "They lift it to their shoulders, they carry it, they set it in its place, and it stands there; it cannot move from its place. If one cries to it, it does not answer or save him from his trouble."
 
Now: Instead of the living God, we worship our own useless idols. Whether that means celebrities or money, work or education, friends or family, patriotism or religious ritual, none of it is of any help in times of trouble. 

Then: They entered into ungodly alliances, trusting in other nations rather than the Lord God. Isaiah 31 says, "Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, And rely on horses, Who trust in chariots because they are many, And in horsemen because they are very strong, but who do not look to the Holy One of Israel, Nor seek the Lord!"

Now: Trust in unholy alliances is rampant, starting with the UN. Check out the headlines of the day; really, only the names and the weapons of war have changed.

Then: They pursued sexual abominations. "Though they know God's decree that those who practice such things deserve to die," says Romans 1, a New Testament book commenting on practices almost as old as man himself, "they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them." 

Now: Where to begin? How about we just say that the day is coming when biblical Christianity will be forced into the closet; the wheels are already in motion in many states.

And that's just a peek into a few of the parallels. If you think what's happening today is sad beyond words, take comfort in the fact that God gave His chosen people the freedom to destroy their land. Fortunately, we know the ending and the news is good for those who repent and trust in Him!
0 Comments

Our lives in a dozen frames

4/1/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
I recently stumbled across this terrific cartoon, which appeared in my inbox many moons ago. Wish I knew the artist, because he or she gets it in a way that few Americans do.
 
The truth is, many of us living in Row 3 or this cartoon act like we’re still in Row 2, doing all we can to maintain our youthful vigor, looks and attitude. We diet routinely and work out at costly gyms; have our hair dyed and highlighted to banish the gray; invest in expensive face creams and even undergo injections or surgeries to stamp out the wrinkles; shop expansively for clothing that’s flattering and at least a little hip; read all the latest best-sellers on both the fiction and non-fiction sides of the aisle; and keep ourselves constantly busy, ideally with cultural events or cutting-edge entertainment or exotic hobbies to sharpen our conversational repertoire.
 
The trouble is, preoccupied as we are with all this frenetic activity, we fail to think deeply about the future captured so perfectly in this cartoon – especially about that last frame.
 
But Death Comes as the End, as Agatha Christie so famously titled her lone historical whodunit.  And we may be headed towards eternal tragedy if we fail to plan for it by seeking out, and responding to, the truth about eternity.
 
The good news is that, as long as we have breath, it’s not too late to do precisely that. And the resources needed to streamline our search have never been more plentiful or more readily accessible.
 
So if you aren’t sure of your ultimate destiny, why put it off another day? Set aside the best-sellers and Must See TV shows for a few weeks or months and educate yourself about eternity. You will be forever grateful that you took the time to do so. 
0 Comments

    Kitty
    Foth-Regner

    I'm a follower of Jesus Christ, a freelance copywriter, a nursing-home volunteer, and the author of books both in-process and published -- including Heaven Without Her. 

    Archives

    December 2022
    September 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013

    Care to subscribe?

    Enter your email address:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
Photos used under Creative Commons from tracie7779, Luci Correia, Maxwell Hamilton, giardinaggio, Doug1021, Angel Xavier Viera, Damian Gadal, Reboots, leoncillo sabino, mRio, HikingArtist.com, guymoll, csath07, Guudmorning!, fred_v, homegets.com, ishaip, jinxmcc, freeparking :-|, CallMeWhatEver, BryonLippincott, simpleinsomnia, csread, nicephore, Doug Beckers, mandydale, berniedup, tontantravel, h.koppdelaney, Jill Clardy, anieto2k, NASA Goddard Photo and Video, QuidoX, Ryo | [ addme. ], ShebleyCL, TinyTall, proggy-yahoo, Infiniteyes, Genista, kippster, Speculum Mundi, HerPhotographer, Tauralbus, megallypuff, harshxpatel, Waiting For The Word, CoreBurn, Gordon Chirgwin, {Guerrilla Futures | Jason Tester}, John McLinden, Patrick Feller, jikatu, Peter O'Connor aka anemoneprojectors, byzantiumbooks, bizmac, H o l l y., Peter Blanchard, sheriffmitchell, Tony Webster, hectorir, City of Overland Park, luis_cunha, Sam Howzit, bertknot, QuotesEverlasting, iturde, ejmc, VARNISHdesign, Cimm, Good Book Reader, Renaud Camus, banjipark, romana klee, 00alexx, erix!, branestawm2002, amsfrank, m01229, cbcmemberphotos2477, rhode.nel, Veronique Debord, joshjanssen, zenjazzygeek, h.koppdelaney, Laurel Mill Players, quinn.anya, *ErinBrierley*, Ben Pugh, Photographing Travis, BarnImages.com, anees.waqas, swambo, Alan Miles NYC, glenngould, Patrick Feller, davecito, wade in da water, Endre Majoros, France1978, dainamara, theseanster93, insightpest, eliduke, volker-kannacher, cogdogblog, Editor B, poshdee, brewbooks, J D Mack, ThomasKohler, mayeesherr. (in West Bengal!), TEDxHouston, Ms. Phoenix, PBoGS, Eselsmann™, Inside Guide To London, ShironekoEuro, Tom Anderson, flequi, cogdogblog, njaminjami, Search Engine People Blog, ShanMcG213, Julie Edgley, randihausken, pescatello, Waiting For The Word, moriza, Iain Farrell, Arizona Parrot, digitalmindphotography, enjosmith, www.WeisserPhotography.com, STC4blues, Holidayextras, Randy Roe, goprogresswent, BenDibble, kstoyer, Rennett Stowe, williac, ImNotQuiteJack, Life Mental Health, Jose Antonio Cotallo Lopez, gruntzooki, electricinca, adactio, miheco, Zemlinki!, bnilsen, chispita_666