Monthly Archives: February 2021

More Than I Ever Imagined

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Prayer (2)I was blessed to grow up in a home with two parents who’s love for each other was a beautiful picture of Biblical love. Because of their love, I couldn’t wait to have a family of my own, so in 1980 at the age of sixteen I started praying for my wife. At first, my prayers were as shallow as most boys my age, you know, I wanted her to be pretty, have blonde hair, blue eyes, and be head over heals in love with me. As the years began to add up and I was still single, my prayers began to change. Oh, I still prayed for everything as before but I added that she needed to love Jesus, have a wonderful testimony, want to be on mission for the Lord, and once again be crazy about me.

I would love to say I patiently waited for the woman who perfectly matched up to my prayers, unfortunately my fear of being alone was greater than my trust in God’s timing, so I was in and out of a lot of relationships. In spite of my impatience, God was faithful and continued to prepare the perfect wife for me. I had to wait thirteen years to finally meet her, but it was well worth the previous heart-break, loneliness, sadness, and seemingly unanswered prayers.

Because we were both college students and poorer than a church mouse, img_0018our first date was at Subway where I could only afford a soft-drink and a couple of chocolate chip cookies. We spent several hours talking about our life’s journey and how we come to know Christ. As she shared about her life before and after meeting Jesus I was stunned at how she was listing off all that I had prayed for over the last thirteen years. She had already been on two mission trips, one to Jackson Hole, Wyoming and the other to Trinidad and Tobago. It was quite clear that night just how in love she was with Jesus.  It was so clear I convinced her to marry me six months later.

Over the last twenty-seven years of marriage, she has taught me so much about God’s love.  Shirley loves me unconditionally in spite of all my idiosyncrasies (a nice way of saying I am weird). I don’t have to perform, serve, or love her in any special way to earn or keep her love. She just loves me unconditionally. And yet, without a doubt I am the second man in her life, the first being Jesus, which is exactly what I was praying for all the way back in 1980. You see, it is her love relationship with Jesus that taught her how to love me.

So, today on our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary I am especially thankful toFebruary 2015 Almighty God for the way He answered the prayer of a sixteen year old boy by giving me so much more than I ever asked for in a wife. She is truly more than I ever imagined or deserved!

I love you Shirley!

Unconditional Love

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This was written by Robertson McQuilkin six years after stepping down as president of Columbia Bible College and Seminary to care for his wife, Muriel, who suffers from Alzheimer’s.

Seventeen summers ago, Muriel and I began our journey into the twilight. It’s midnight now, at least for her, and sometimes I wonder when dawn will break. Even the dread of Alzheimer’s disease isn’t supposed to attack so early and torment so long. Yet, in her silent world, Muriel is so content, so lovable. If Jesus took her home, how I would miss her gentle, sweet presence. Yes, there are times when I get irritated, but not often. It doesn’t make much sense to get angry. And besides, perhaps the Lord has been answering the prayer of my youth to mellow my spirit.

Once, though, I completely lost it. In the days when Muriel could still stand and walk and we had not resorted to diapers, sometimes there were “accidents.” I was on my knees beside her, trying to clean up the mess as she stood, confused, by the toilet. It would have been easier if she weren’t so insistent on helping. I got more and more frustrated. Suddenly, to make her stand still, I slapped her calf–as if that would do any good. It wasn’t a hard slap, but she was startled. I was, too. Never in our forty-four years of marriage had I ever so much as touched her in anger or in rebuke of any kind. Never, wasn’t even tempted, in fact. But, now, when she needed me most…

Sobbing, I pled with her to forgive me–no matter that she didn’t understand words any better than she could speak them. So I turned to the Lord to tell Him how sorry I was. It took me days to get over it. Maybe God bottled those tears to quench the fires that might ignite again someday.

Recently, a student wife asked me, “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Tired? Every night. That’s why I go to bed.”

“No, I mean tired of…” and she tilted her head toward Muriel, who sat silently in her wheelchair, her vacant eyes saying, “No one at home just now.” I responded to Cindi’s question, “Why no, I don’t get tired. I love to care for her. She’s my precious…”

Love is said to evaporate if the relationship is not mutual, if it’s not physical, if the other person does not communicate, or if one party doesn’t carry his or her share of the load. When I hear the litany of essentials for a happy marriage, I count off what my beloved can no longer contribute, and then I contemplate how truly mysterious love is.

What some people find so hard to understand is that loving Muriel isn’t hard. They wonder about my former loves–like my work. “Don’t you miss being president?” a student asked as we sat in our little garden. I told him I’d never thought about it, but, on reflection, no. As exhilarating as my work had been, I enjoyed learning to cook and keep house. No, I’d never looked back.

But that night I did reflect on his question and turned it to the Lord. “Father, I like this assignment, and I have no regrets. But if a coach puts a man on the bench, he must not want him in the game. You needn’t tell me, of course, but I’d like to know–why didn’t you keep me in the game?

I didn’t sleep well that night and awoke contemplating the puzzle. Muriel was still mobile at that time, so we set out on our morning walk around the block. She wasn’t too sure on her feet, so we went slowly and held hands as we always do. This day I heard footsteps behind me and looked back to see the familiar form of a local derelict behind us. He staggered past us, then turned and looked us up and down. “Tha’s good. I likes ’it,” he said. Tha’s real good. I likes it.” He turned and headed back down the street, mumbling to himself over and over, “Tha’s good. I likes it.”

When Muriel and I reached our little garden and sat down, his words came back to me. Then the realization hit me; the Lord had spoken through an inebriated old derelict. “It is you who is whispering to my spirit, ‘I likes it, tha’s good.’” I said aloud. “I may be on the bench, but if you like it and say it’s good, that’s all that counts…”

I think my life is happier than the lives of 95 percent of the people on planet Earth.

I Love You, Do You Love Me?

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In 1976, I was in the sixth grade at Billy Mitchell Elementary School.  Sitting across the room from me was this really cute blonde. To make sure she knew of my feelings, I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote her a note: “I Love You, Do You Love Me?” Then I drew two squares and wrote the words “Yes or No please check one” underneath.   I folded the paper up and with all the secrecy of an international spy I had my friends in the class pass the note all the way around the room to my hopeful sweetheart.

My heart raced as she opened the note and read it. My curiosity grew as she took out a pencil, checked one of the boxes, smiled at me, and then started the note on its long journey back. With the exception of a few glances at the teacher to make sure she didn’t see the note, I never took my eyes off the eminent correspondence. As the answer to my question finally reached me, my hands were shaking, my heart was pounding, and I was sweating like I had just come off the playground at recess. I was a nervous wreck! In fact, I was almost too apprehensive to read her response.

Why was I so unnerved? I had been brave in sharing my feelings with someone, but now a tidal wave of fear of rejection was cascading over me. It was like I had taken my heart out of my chest, placed it into her hands, and hoped that she would reciprocate my affections. I didn’t want my heart to be rejected.

God did the same thing when He created humanity to have a love relationship with Him; however, they rejected His love to fulfill their own desires. They found greater pleasure in creation than they did in their relationship with the Creator. This rejection separated the creation from the Creator. He gave them His law to show their need for a Savior, but they turned the law into a measuring stick to show how righteous and holy they were.  They compared themselves to others who were not measuring up in obedience to the rules. Once again they had missed God’s intended purpose—a relationship with Him.

God sent His Son Jesus, in the form of man, from heaven to earth. He tried to show them just how much He loved, cherished, and desired a relationship with them. He healed the sick, raised the dead, gave sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and taught them about Himself through the life of Jesus. He literally took out His heart and presented it to them and said, “I Love You, Do You Love Me, Yes or No?” Not only did they reject His love, they took His heart, beat it, spit upon it, and nailed it to a cross until it was dead.

Little did they know that this was God’s master plan since before the creation of the world. His Son would die a ransom for sin for all who would believe in Him. After three days, He arose from the dead thus making a way for the forgiveness of all humanity.  Now He is sending a love letter to you, “Do You Love Me?” What will be your reply, “Yes” or “No”?

Will you choose to accept the love of God or will you reject it? Choose today— your eternal destiny depends on your decision.

Push Against the Rock

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Once upon a time, there was a man who was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light and the Saviour appeared. The Lord told the man He had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. This the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might.

Each night the man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain. Seeing that the man was showing signs of discouragement, Satan decided to enter the picture placing thoughts into the man’s mind such as: “You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn’t budged. Why kill yourself over this? You are never going to move it.” Thus giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure.

These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man even more. “Why kill myself over this?” he thought. “I’ll just put in my time, giving just the minimum of effort and that will be good enough.” And that he planned to do until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord.

“Lord,” he said, “I have laboured long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock a half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?” To this the Lord responded compassionately, “My child, when long ago I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push.

And now you come to me, your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But, is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back sinewed and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition, you have grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven’t moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you have done. I, my child, will now move the rock.”

Source unknown

The 1% is really 100%

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This morning another friend died of COVID. I can no longer count the number of former or current church members that have died from this terrible virus. My heart aches for their families, friends, co-workers, and neighbors who have to learn how to live each day without their loved one in this world. Those who were a Christian have left behind peace, comfort, and hope of a great reunion one day in heaven. Nevertheless, our hearts still long to have them present with us.

Could I ask a favor from some of you? I see a lot of posts that COVID isn’t that bad because less than 1% of the population has died from this virus. That it is just a political grenade used to bring about fear and sway people one way or another. I will not argue whether these posts are fact or fiction, but what I would say is this: Those who have lost someone to COVID are not thinking about the 1%. They are hurting because 100% of the person they loved has died.

So, here is my favor. Please think before you post supposed facts or opinions. As a believer in Christ, think about those whose lives have been hurt and post from a position of compassion, love, empathy, and concern. Write something that shows your Christ-likeness: something that is not divisive, mean-spirited, or slanderous. Post something that is not fueled by anger, rage, bitterness, or meanness. Post something that is going to let those who have lost someone know, “I love you, I care for you, I hurt with you, and I’m praying for you.”

If you disagree with this, you can ignore it and move. But if you’re tired of all the hate, anger, anxiety, fear, and frustration on social media, then share this with others.
Thanks for taking time to get this far. May God bless and keep you and your family safe from the ravages of living in a fallen world!