What’cha going to do?

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What’cha going to do?

In my last blog, I presented the following situation:

       What if you were told, with 100 percent certainty, that you had 5 minutes to live?  AND, in that 5 minutes you could send one email, text, facebook entry, or other digital message.  Further you could not use the word “love”.  Additionally, you are allowed to pass on only one earthly possession to your loved ones, regardless of any existing will or other legal document. 

I want to discuss my response and consider the second part of this scenario first, the “one earthly possession”.  I would want it to be something that would be useful and something to remind them of me, to say who I was.  I have written many things on my computer, that speak to what makes me tick, but it is far from exhaustive or comprehensive.  I have never kept a daily journal or diary, and, it is a little late to start now.  I want it to be something to say the things that I wished I had said, but for some reason did not, something that would express my love without using the word love, something that would speak to family and loved ones, even though  not all could inherit this one thing.

It is said that the only thing that you can take with you after you die is your family and loved ones.  You can take them to heaven.  You can’t load them up and take them with you; but, they can catch up with you when they die.  If you have accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior; and they have also, you will meet again in heaven.  If neither you, or your loved ones have accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior, you will be together in hell; but I assure you, there will be no party.

Luke 16:20-26

And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores and it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried; and in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said , Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame. But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted , and thou art tormented and beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence.

With this in mind, I do have something that I have had for the last 40+ years.  It is my old beat up Bible.  It is falling apart.  The cover has been off for the last 20+ years.  The binding is coming apart.  The map section is held on by a few strings.  The leather holder that it has been in is starting to come apart at the seams.  It's marked up with all kinds of notes, making it a personal reference Bible.  Some notes, I have trouble reading because my penmanship is not great.  Some years I made more notes than other years.  They were written over a period on 40+ years, written in 8+ states, in probably 12+ local churches, representing, 6+ denominations or non-denominations.  It is a King James Schofield Study Bible that I bought in Cape May , New Jersey, based on the recommendation of the pastor of an American Baptist Church in Cape May Court House (an actual town, not a building).  I think his last name was Jones.  He was the first pastor to challenge my belief system.  Before that I had based my beliefs on what my church and pastors had told me.  I was raised in a Christian family, went to church twice every Sunday. Went to Sunday school or Catechism class every week.  Went to a Christian school from kindergarten thru college.  Joined the church when everybody else in my catechism class did, sometime in high school, probably early summer between 1962-65. 

I value that time and thank the Lord for that time, it kept me out of trouble; but I don’t really know if I was saved.  I don’t blame my parents, my Sunday school teachers, my church, my pastors, or my school teachers.  It was my fault.  I never owned my beliefs.  I would defend them, I knew them but they were not part of my DNA.  They were spelled out by what I had been taught by my church; but not owned. 

I could have qualified as an amateur theologian, probably more qualified than many of today’s so called liberal theologians.  It has been said that Satan is probably the greatest theologian, but he still burns in hell eternally. 

I want my family and loved ones to join me in heaven and my old beat up Bible is the best thing I can leave behind to insure this.