SHOT TO THE HEART
Next Sabbath I will finish a 7-part sermon series at my church about prayer. I have been blessed and challenged to the level that I never want to go back to where I was in my prayer life. This past week we studied Jesus' example to us in prayer. It's filled with petitions - and one is that God's will will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Jesus actually prayed that prayer again in Gethsemane. This got me thinking: I was talking to a friend this week on how love can be turned into a bullet which shoots your heart. It's one of the few times that you can be shot in the heart, and not die. Okay, that is almost true. Because that night after Jesus surrendered his will to the Father's will, love (refuted) did become a bullet shot into his heart... and he did die. I wonder if we get sidetracked on the gory drama and miss that Jesus experienced love refused, and that killed him. Maybe it is those shots to our hearts of love lost - parents loosing a child, spouse rejecting an innocent spouse, etc. where it hurts inside and you can't rub it to make it feel better - are glimpses of the heart hurt that killed Jesus.
By the way, you are all welcome to visit my churches website: www.bcadventistchurch.org
One more (funny) story from Europe.
The last night I was in Paris, I attempted to get a hotel room. Well several miles later and 4 different hotels my ride needed to begin his journey back to Germany and I still didn't have a place to stay. It was about 7 p.m. and my flight left at 10 a.m. the next morning. So I had him drop me off at the airport and thought I would call for a place from there. Most of the places I called didn't have any rooms and the only one that did said that it was going for 250 euros ($375). I couldn't spend that much on just me... so I wandered the hallways of the Paris International Airport until I knew I was tired enough to sleep anywhere. Then I opened my suitcase in a corner and this became my bed....
It was not so bad. The difficult part was that besides walking I had been drinking water. So each one of the four times I had to repack my suitcase (it was tight) and roll it down to the bathroom before returning to "my spot" and spreading it back out. But as "difficult of a trial" that was, it has become almost an endearing memory (might just be a lesson in that).