A thought by Max Lucedo, from his book, God Will Carry You Through (p. 18). Thomas Nelson. Kindle Edition. (Click on the book title to go to Amazon.com to buy the book.)
So, what is it?
Max says, “Your destiny. Can we talk about it?”
Max then says, “You are God’s child. He saw you, picked you, and placed you. ‘You did not choose me; I chose you’ (John 15:16). Before you are a butcher, baker, or cabinetmaker; male or female; Asian or black, you are God’s child. Replacement or fill-in? Hardly. You are his first choice.
“… He chose you. The choice wasn’t obligatory, required, compulsory, forced, or compelled. He selected you because he wanted to. You are his open, willful, voluntary choice. He walked onto the auction block where you stood, and he proclaimed, ‘This child is mine.’ And he bought you ‘with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot’ (1 Peter 1:19 NKJV). You are God’s child.”
Max goes on, “You are God’s child forever.
“Don’t believe the tombstone. You are more than a dash between two dates. Don’t get sucked into short-term thinking. Your struggles will not last forever, but you will.”
He says, “My father had just retired. He and Mom had saved their money and made their plans. They wanted to visit every national park in their travel trailer. Then came the diagnosis: amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease), a cruel degenerative disease of the muscles. Within months he was unable to feed, dress, or bathe himself. His world, as he knew it, was gone.
“At the time, my wife, Denalyn, and I were preparing to do mission work in Brazil. When we got the news, I offered to change my plans. How could I leave the country while he was dying? Dad’s reply was immediate and confident. He was not known for his long letters, but this one took up four pages:
“In regard to my disease and your going to Rio. That is really an easy answer for me and that is Go . . . I have no fear of death or eternity . . . so don’t be concerned about me. Just Go. Please him.
“Dad lost much: his health, retirement, years with his children and grandchildren, years with his wife. The loss was severe, but it wasn’t complete.
“Several years after Dad’s death, I received a letter from a woman who remembered him. Ginger was only six years old when her Sunday school class made get-well cards for ailing church members. She created a bright purple card out of construction paper and carefully lined it with stickers. On the inside she wrote, ‘I love you, but most of all, God loves you.’ Her mom baked a pie, and the two made the delivery.
“Dad was bedfast. The end was near. His jaw tended to drop, leaving his mouth open. He could extend his hand, but it was bent to a claw from the disease.
“Somehow Ginger had a moment alone with him and asked a question as only a six-year-old can: ‘Are you going to die?’
“He touched her hand and told her to come near. ‘Yes, I am going to die. When? I don’t know.
“She asked if he was afraid to go away. ‘Away is heaven,’ he told her. ‘I will be with my Father. I am ready to see him eye to eye.’
“About this point in the visit, her mother and mine returned. Ginger recalls:
“My mother consoled your parents with a fake smile on her face. But I smiled a big beautiful real smile and he did the same and winked at me.
“My purpose for telling you all this is my family and I are going to Kenya. We are going to take Jesus to a tribe on the coast. I am very scared for my children, because I know there will be hardships and disease. But for me, I am not afraid, because the worst thing that could happen is getting to see ‘my Father eye to eye.’
“It was your father who taught me that earth is only a passing through and death is merely a rebirth.”
Max then said, “A man near death, winking at the thought of it. Stripped of everything? It only appeared that way. In the end, Dad still had what no one could take. And in the end that is all he needed.”
And that is all we also need, isn’t it?
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