"And it shall be, when you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the mulberry trees, then you shall advance quickly. For then the Lord will go out before you to strike the camp of the Philistines.” 2 Samuel 5:24
 
I once knew an elderly woman who never made a move without asking God for His direction. She dressed in the morning based on what she thought was His leading. She made her way through the grocery store asking for His advice on what kind of cereal or soup she should buy. She consulted Him on which news broadcast she should listen to at the end of the day, and what time she should go to bed.
 
Some might see that as a little excessive. Maybe so, but somehow I think it probably pleased Him.  
 
After all, we are prone to do just the opposite, as Chris Carrillo pointed out in a recent message to those gathered for the Christian Music Hour at Care-age of Brookfield – to leave Him out of even major decisions.
 
Entitled “Are you listening to the mulberry trees?” Chris’s message provided us with ample biblical reminders of how critical it can be to seek God’s counsel in humble prayer, and to await His answer – and how disastrous it can be to simply plunge ahead, doing what seems right in our own eyes.
 
“Let’s cultivate a habit of inquiring of the Lord and waiting for His answer,” Chris said. “The more that we seek direction from God in prayer, the more we desire to know His will, the more He is honored and the more we are blessed.”
 
If that sounds like a good reminder to you, I invite you to invest a quarter hour in listening to this terrific message. (If you are reading this via an email, please click on the post title above and you’ll be taken to the original post, complete with audio link.)  ​

There are a handful of movies I like to watch again and again, and “The Trip to Bountiful” (1985) is one of them. I saw it again recently for the fourth or fifth time. And it reminded me once again of what may be the second-greatest gift we can give the elderly.
 
In case you haven’t caught it yet, here’s the story line:
 
Living in 1940s Houston with her son and daughter-in-law, 70-something Carrie Watts (Geraldine Page) has just one wish to fulfill before she dies: visiting her childhood home in a town called Bountiful. Son Ludie (John Heard) is too busy trying to make a living for them to take her there himself, and his wife Jessie Mae (Carlin Glynn) is too busy pursuing her own little pleasures to care. So Mrs. Watts takes the matter into her own hands, escaping by Greyhound bus to the closest stop. It’s 10 p.m. when they arrive, and pitch black outside. She decides to sleep on a bench in the nearly empty bus station, and then to walk the last 12 miles to Bountiful in the morning.
 
Alas, she’s found out, and the local sheriff is under orders to hold her until Ludie can get there to pick her up.  
 
While they wait, the kind-hearted sheriff decides to take Mrs. Watts to Bountiful. There’s not much left – just a few abandoned structures. Her childhood home, too, is a ruin, but the sheriff settles her on an upturned crate at the crumbling front porch and talks with her gently for a few minutes before leaving her alone with her memories. We walk through the house with her, knowing that she sees more than we do, so much more than this empty shell of a home. And she is in fact restored by the visit. She returns to Houston with her son and daughter-in-law, peacefully and finally at peace.
 
This was just the second time I’d seen this movie as a Christian, and oh, what a difference a worldview makes! Mrs. Watts is clearly a believer. Hymns are the sound track of her life, and she turns to her battered Bible throughout her journey. She knows her time on earth is limited, but doesn’t seem to be disturbed in the least by her mortality; she knows that she will spend forever in heaven with her Savior.

I remember weeping inconsolably over this movie in the past. But not now; I may shed a few tears, but they are tears of joy and longing for eternity, not of despair or bitterness.
 
There are two things that really strike me about “Bountiful” now that I'm a believer.
 
First, there’s what the movie reveals about our relationship to time as we age.  
 
We see that Mrs. Watts has little thought of the present, or of her remaining time in this world. Instead, she has an all-consuming longing to revisit her distant past, perhaps as a touchstone on her way to eternity.
 
We see that daughter-in-law Jessie Mae, on the other hand, has no thought of anything but today, of her present comfort and pleasures. Sadly, I can identify with such shallowness; she reminds me of myself before I encountered the living God.
 
And then we see son Ludie, stuck somewhere in between. While he’s sympathetic to his mother’s memories, he refuses to join her on this sentimental journey of hers. He has focused his heart and mind on today, because thinking of the past is painful.
 
“I should have made myself bring you out here sooner,” he says when he finally catches up with her at the old house. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be easier, if we didn’t see the house again.”
 
Then, rejecting her invitation to look around: “I don’t see any use in it. I’d rather remember it like it was.”  Except we know that people who say such things go to great lengths to forget, burying their memories beneath an avalanche of activity and entertainment. We know that Ludie is like this, that he keeps a tight leash on his memories.
 
A bit later, as he reflects on his failure to make a good life for his wife and mother, Ludie admits it.  “Mamma, I lied to you,” he says. “I do remember – I remember so much. This house, this life here, the night you woke me up and dressed me and took me for a walk when the moon was full and I cried ‘cause I was scared and you comforted me.
 
“Mamma, I want to stop remembering. It doesn’t do any good, remembering.”
 
And in a way, he’s right. Nothing on this earth can compete with the memory of past joy. Only the promise of eternal joy can eclipse it.
 
The second thing that struck me about my latest viewing of “The Trip to Bountiful” is related: Perhaps the second-best thing we can do for the elderly is to help them go home again, if only in their thoughts. 
 
I’ve done this somewhat instinctively in my nursing-home visits, I suppose, but selfishly; I love hearing about life in the pre-WWII U.S., and seeing pictures from that era, and learning about the people who were dear to my aging friends. It never occurred to me that they might get even more pleasure than I do out of talking about these things.
 
But thanks to this phenomenal movie and wonderful performances by Geraldine Page and John Heard, I can see that it would be so.  From now on, I’ll make a point of helping them focus on the good ol’ days instead of wasting words on the bad ol’ here and now -- after, of course, sharing the best gift of all with them, which is the gospel of Jesus Christ.
 
In the meantime, I may just go back and visit Bountiful once more. If you’d like to see it, for the first time or the tenth, look for it on youtube.

As a corporate copywriter who has personally written many forgettable taglines, I've always been quite a connoisseur of the genre. And there have been some great ones out there. But in my opinion, none has ever been as monumentally apropos as SERVOPRO’s current entry, “Like it never even happened.”
 
SERVOPRO is, of course, referring to the restoration services the company provides to help homeowners and businesspeople recover from virtually any physical disaster, from fires to floods. Have such a problem? Call your local SERVOPRO franchise and before you know it, it’ll be just “like it never even happened.” Perfect.
 
But I think there’s a far more important spiritual application for this tagline, one that the devil himself surely appreciates. Because as far as this world is concerned, within a few decades of your death, your life will be “like it never even happened.” Mine, too. And the lives of nearly everyone who ever lived.  
 
Yet we keep clinging to the idea that our worldly impact will last forever. Just read a column or two of death notices in your local paper, and notice how often you spot something along the lines of “We’ll never forget you, Dad!” But the truth is, Dad will be forgotten, and in relatively short order – usually within a generation or two.
 
Want proof? Think back on your own ancestors – great grandparents or even grandparents, in many instances. How often do they influence you? How frequently do they cross your mind? How much do you even know about them?  If you’re like most people, your honest answers would be “never,” “rarely” and “not much.”
 
Turns out that all those heartfelt promises to “never forget” are as fleeting as our lives are … that Jesus’ half-brother James was correct when he wrote, “For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” (James 4:14b)
 
What’s even more eye-opening is this: we don’t even have to die to be forgotten. Just one example: Before retiring my freelance copywriting business a few years ago, I spent 30 years serving GE Medical Systems/GE Healthcare as a primary marketing communications writer. Three decades! Yet GE survived my retirement without a whimper or a phone call. They’re still turning out stellar marcomm tools without my help.  
 
And GE is far from the only company to move along nicely without me, proving that my entire career was “like it never even happened.”
 
Which has prompted me to ask you a few impertinent questions.
 
Are you doing anything today that will be remembered a century from now? Better yet, for all eternity?
 
Even more important, where will you be spending eternity? Will you join the children of God in heaven, to rejoice forevermore? Or will they get along perfectly well without you – without, in fact, even giving you a second thought?
 
If you haven’t already done so, please consider these issues before it’s too late! Click here if you need a little inspiration.