Ruth 4v13-17

Ever After (Part Four) 

(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“…THE EARS OF THE DEAF WILL BE UNSTOPPED.” Isaiah 35v5b NASB

More Words from the Father

Isaiah 35v3-10

1 Thessalonians 4v13-18

Mark 7v31-37

Revelation 21

Isaiah 25v6-7

From my Heart

Someday

Someday all sorrow will be gone.

The hurts and pains and grief that mark our lives will be but a distant memory. Instead, delight will come bursting into our hearts and minds. We’ll giggle and dance and laugh out loud, unable to contain our joy.

Someday all worry will be gone.

The stress, the worries we push to the corners of our minds. The prayers we pray in panic for people we love. The underlying anxiety. Poof! Gone. And in place of all those nasty peace stealers will be trust. Absolute, unerring, unwavering trust in the One who holds the world in His hands.

Someday all fear will be gone.

Fear of the future. Fear of the past. Fear of people. Fear of pain. No longer will fear be the architect of our plans. Instead we’ll dream-and dream big. Walking with the Creator of the Universe, we’ll be so free from the fear that held us back that we’ll expound our ideas and expand on His to the delight of us both. Can’t you just see it? Arms waving, faces alight with the possibilities. We’ll be free!

Someday all anger will be gone.

We’ll never again hear it or sense it or see it in others. And we’ll never again feel it ourselves. No more seething silently. No more exhausting explosions. Grace will blanket everything and everyone. Love will be so palatable then, that we’ll forget what rage feels like. We’ll scratch our heads and wonder what happened back then, before this place.

And someday I’ll be able to hear again.

The tinkling of bells. The fall of raindrops. The whisper of the wind. Birds will sound beautiful. The full-throated croak of a frog will send me, no doubt, into peals of laughter. And a creak of a cricket - crisp and clear over the morning air.

I’ll never, ever again pretend to hear someone. Never watch lips move and wonder what to do - ask again or nod my head and hope for the best? Words and sounds will float to me, enveloping me in their music, enrapturing my whole self.

And I’ll sing. Yes I will! Loud and unabashedly proud, I’ll sing when I’m alone and when I’m surrounded by singers. No worries about missed notes or monotone. My voice will carry over the waves in rich, lovely tones of praise. Maybe I’ll even grab a microphone just so everyone will know it’s me!

Someday. Someday soon.

I know, I know…I know that the now of my life matters. I have work to do. My Master has called me to walk a while here, to keep my eyes off my troubles, fixed firmly on His face.

I know.

But still, someday beckons. I’ll be home then. Reveling in that place He meant for me all along. And I’m going to hear those hoped for words, I know I will. Despite my failures, my gross inadequacies, and my horrendous hypocrisy - I’m going to hear Him say,

“Oh Di, my good and faithful servant…Come…enter into Joy!”

Someday.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Words

Laqah

“So Boaz took Ruth…”

The Hebrew word laqah is translated brought, acquired, selected, took, or marry. The word itself changes meaning with its context. Here in the context of a wedding ceremony, it takes on the meaning of marriage. Boaz married Ruth. But it means more than that. Boaz selected Ruth. The entire story romances his selection of Ruth as his bride. Of all the women he could have picked, Boaz sought out and selected Ruth.

This is the same word used in Deuteronomy 4v34 to describe God’s choosing of the people of Israel out of all the other nations to be His own people. The concept of being chosen by God reverberates throughout the book of Ruth and spills onto the pages of the entire Bible. Boaz’s selection of Ruth as his wife is a beautiful picture of Jesus’ choosing of us to be His bride.

For reasons we will never fully grasp, God sought us and bought us, and brought us into His protection and love. In a very real sense, God laqah you!

(source)

And when he comes, he will open the eyes of the blind

and unplug the ears of the deaf. 

The lame will leap like a deer,

and those who cannot speak will sing for joy!

Isaiah 35:5,6 

I wonder sometimes what I am missing by not hearing music.

I don’t remember, really, what bells sound like, or tinkling chimes.

What does it mean that a song is rich? Or layered and complex?

Why do people get in their cars and immediately reach for the power button on the CD player? My vintage 1976 Mercedes doesn’t even have a CD player.

And yet I see my son and how he loves his music. How he fits certain kinds to match his moods— loud and driving and strong for courage of conviction, soft and low for worship, crazy drum solos and crashing cymbals for joyful thanksgiving.

It all sounds terrible to me. When I’m “plugged in” (Comer-speak for when I have my cochlear attached to my head) it sounds just like the garbage disposal eating egg shells and ice. When I’m “unplugged” I hear nothing.

And this morning as I read about the building of the Temple by Solomon, I am struck by words about music. Bells on priest’s robes, musicians gathering to form choirs, and this:

All these men were under the direction of their fathers as they made music at the house of the Lord. Their responsibilities included the playing of cymbals, harps, and lyres at the house of God. Asaph, Jeduthun, and Heman reported directly to the king. They and their families were all trained in making music before the Lord, and each of them—288 in all—was an accomplished musician. The musicians were appointed to their term of service by means of sacred lots, without regard to whether they were young or old, teacher or student.

(1 Chronicles 25:6-8)

A family of music makers. Can you imagine the fun they had? The noise their neighbors put up with? And do you notice they all got to play? From the very beginner to the very best, this family made music together for the Lord.

And I wonder again what I am missing.

Would my worship be sweeter if I could sing along with my iPod?  If I didn’t cringe at the metallic clash of cymbals through my cochlear, would I smile and sing and shake my head like my son? Dance a jig in the hallway like he does when he thinks no one is watching?

Am I missing out on joy?

I try not to think about things like that— to accept my life now and be grateful for all I have. The fact that I can talk to my children and hear what they have to say is nothing short of a miracle that would have been impossible just 20 years ago.

I know that and I am thankful. Every morning when I put that thing on my head and reconnect with the sounds of living, I thank God that I can hear, that I am not isolated and alone.

But still I wonder.

And someday I’ll know.

On that day I step from this world into the Presence, I’ll hear the music. And you will too, but I’ll hear it in a way I think most people won’t. I’ll hear perfect music with perfect ears that have been deprived of something God made.

And I’ll be great friends with that tribe of people who couldn’t see here on earth- the blind ones drinking in every sight, marveling, touching, exclaiming at the beauty. And the ones lame leaping and dancing and doing somersaults— those who were confined by crippled bodies for too long.

I’ll be the deaf girl singing. At the top of my voice— no more pretending I hear more than a note or two. I’ll pick up the microphone and belt it out for all to hear— for me to hear.

And you? What is it you’ll go after when God brings you into His arms and says, “Welcome home?”

My dad, whose failing lungs hold him back now, will probably head for a hike high in the newly restored Sierras. Matt will eat whatever he wants, unhindered by a diabetic’s restrictions on carbs or insulin. My friend Becky will get up from her bed and lead us all in line-dancing.

I am missing something by not hearing music. I am supposed to hear music. And I think its good for me to just spend a moment or two grieving over the loss from time to time.

Not to wallow, just to wonder what I have waiting for me.

And isn’t that wondering part of the waiting? Part of why we wait on tippy toes?  Longing for the Day. The Someday.

With this news, strengthen those who have tired hands,

and encourage those who have weak knees.

Say to those with fearful hearts,

“Be strong, and do not fear,

for your God is coming to destroy your enemies.

He is coming to save you.”

Isaiah 35:3,4 

From my heart,

Diane