Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked. [1 John 2:6 (ESV)]
Last Friday, I was blown away when I walked into a restaurant to discover that my family had gathered from both far and near to surprise me with a 70th birthday party. I couldn’t believe how beautifully they had secretly choreographed the entire celebratory weekend. With tears of joy leaking from my eyes and a heart bursting with love, I prayed that they would be as fulfilled in their lives as I have been in mine. Having just finished yesterday’s devotion about last lectures, I couldn’t help but think of the passing along of life lessons. Although I’m in good health, I know that much sooner than later my time in this world will be over. Is there a last lecture I should prepare?
Remembering that my children rarely listened to any of my lectures when they were young, I realized they certainly wouldn’t listen now they’re grown adults. I recalled Randy Pausch’s last lecture and what he considered the most useful weapon in a teacher’s arsenal: the “head fake.” Simply put, the head fake is indirect learning. While thinking they are learning about one thing, the students really are learning about quite another. Perhaps these devotions are my version of a head fake. They aren’t just about finding God in both His Word and everyday occurrences; they’re about how to lead our lives. And, like Professor Pausch’s lecture, while freely shared, they are actually for my children.
Most of us, however, aren’t professors or writers and yet we all have a last lecture, a legacy of sorts, to leave to those who follow in our footsteps. The best last lecture, of course, is the ultimate head fake—a life well lived. We can teach more with our examples that we ever could with our words. Unlike most lectures, however, that lecture lasts far longer than an hour or so. It is ongoing; every time we interact with our loved ones or they observe us with others, we’re giving that lecture. Do we treat people who can do nothing for us with the same respect and dignity we do to those who can do something for us? Is the Fruit of the Spirit obvious in our conduct? Do our actions match our words? In the end, the example of our lives will be far more powerful than even the most eloquent of lectures. If Christ can be seen in us, we will have given the most powerful lecture of all.
Heavenly Father, fill us with your Holy Spirit and guide us so that we are living examples of Jesus. Enable us to walk as He walked, talk as He talked, give as generously as He gave, care as deeply as He cared, forgive as freely as He forgave, and love as largely as He loved.
Live so that when the final summons comes you will leave something more behind you than an epitaph on a tombstone or an obituary in a newspaper. [Billy Sunday]
After more than a year without a pastor, our northern church is finally getting its new minister. He will be stepping into some very big and well-worn shoes. The last pastor was at his post for over forty years. To say that the congregation has become somewhat set in their ways is probably an understatement. “But we’ve always done it that way!” and “He’s not like Pastor S!” are bound to be said more than once.
“A Christian doesn’t die,” declared the pastor, which may have been news to some of those attending the Celebration of Life. “He just moves!” the minister added as an explanation. Indeed, we are just temporary residents here on earth. Death for a Christian is simply a relocation and, unlike most moves we’ve made, it doesn’t require a purging of the items in the attic, garage sales, packing up boxes, or wrangling friends into helping us carry the heavy stuff! This is one transfer that neither requires moving vans nor mail forwarding.
The words Soli Deo gloria, meaning “glory to God alone,” were the words at the end of the actor’s bio in the show’s playbill. The addition of those three words in his brief resume was the actor’s way of acknowledging the source of his talent and dedicating his work to God’s glory. I thought of those words when someone flattered me recently. While I knew “Glory to God alone,” was not the right response, I wasn’t sure what was.
“I’ve never seen eye to eye with Mary since we were neighbors,” said the woman harshly. Her statement begged us to ask, “Why?” The woman beside her, however, refused the invitation with the comment, “Well, we can’t get along with everyone!” and promptly changed the subject. Gossip was avoided that time but it’s not always so easy; the line between conversation and gossip is a fuzzy one at best.
Devotions of the Heart 