I’m feeling better…but not really normal. I managed a little jog this morning with the dogs…and ran my mill some this afternoon.
I decided to step out of the New Testament track this time and grabbed a devo from my 2011 pass through Proverbs.
The words of Jesus in John 15 are far more meaningful to me now than they used to be—“For without me, ye can do nothing” (John 15:5). My present views and reasoning recognize more clearly than ever that what Jesus means by “nothing” is really “NOTHING!” I can’t think, digest, breath, pump blood, move, do marriage, make babies, or exist without His purposing and providing for it. I base that general perspective on the premise that John sets forth in the opening lines of his volume of the Gospel. “Through him (Jesus Christ, the Word of God) all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made” (John 1:3). There’s that “nothing” word again. I’m accepting that as absolute and all-inclusive.
Without this angle of view, it is too easy for me to become like the little arrogant flea on the back of the huge elephant. After the elephant had crossed a bridge, the flea hollered into one of the ears of the elephant, “Wow!—we really shook that bridge, didn’t we?” Like the flea, we tend to exclaim, “Look what I have achieved!”
Achievement is an important theme in the minds of the aged. I know—I’m one of them! And I spend a lot of time with seniors. With some I attended high school and college. The tendency is that when we face the reality that we only have one shot at doing life—and there is almost no more achievement ammo left—it can be a little sobering—even disturbing. “What have I done with my life that is of any value?” For many of us, the easiest way to give justification and worth to our blurred achievements is to direct attention to our offspring—pointing out the achievements of our children and grandchildren. It becomes something like a crown.
I think Solomon is stating the ideal—something to strive for. We all know that life does not always play out in keeping with the ideal. Some parents and grandparents don’t talk much about their crowns—it’s too much like a crown of thorns. But to be sure, we all want to be proud of our children, and we all want our children to be proud of us. The practical and powerful point is that we have been fabricating crowns all along—that we are given a lot of options and insights to predetermine what kind of crown we wish to wear on our deathbeds. Today is just another link in that chain of fabrication.
Did I say “deathbeds?” Yup! I choose to be a realist. None of us are getting out of here alive. And I believe that one of the healthiest mental exercises for all of us to perform is to project ourselves ahead in time to that inevitable circumstance, and ask, “What kind of overview appraisal do I want to give for my handling of the gift of life.”
If you can, go ahead and brag about your kids and grandkids. Just try not to be a flea about it. TO GOD BE THE GLORY!