Good morning! It's Friday at last and I can't be too serious on a Friday. The team is out there practicing football at 0600 on a Friday, now that's serious! It's better than the afternoon practice here in the dog days of August. Known as dog days because leaving your dog outside in the afternoon might cause the poor thing to burst into flame. In those black uniforms, I sort of expect a kid or two to spontaneously combust one of these days. Tell the Julesburg mothers I'm not serious of course, they only melt into oddly-shaped black puddles. The coaches haul out a Shop-vac and suck the melted players into the ice pack cooler where they solidify shortly after the end of practice, or right about the time the head coach yells, "Showers!" Kids are remarkably resilient that way. One moment surely at death's door, perhaps even getting measured for a harp and robe; the next, up and running for whatever motivates life into a teenage body.
The end of this life and beginning of the next for us will be quite similar. One moment we may be laying in a hospice bed, the body struggling for one more breath, with an angel patiently waiting for us to let go and move it on over to a new life. Then, Jesus orders us home and we let go from this life, and just like that kid, we are running to meet our Lord faster than we ever thought possible to run. A remarkable renewal and recovery awaiting us just past that dark doorway. If there is a cloaked figure with a scythe, it will attend only to help us by cutting our last clinging suckers away from that old life. No need for fear; embrace the life God has given us, and when that order comes, take the transition and run to Jesus.
Have a great Friday (Oh sure, now that I talked about that Death fellow, 'have a great Friday,' he says!)
In Christ,Bucky
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