Ian, my brother in law, you have left this earth and gone to heaven just this past week at the young age of only 50. Alone you were when you died, but we know that you had a welcome party waiting for you and now you reside with a company of people who love you dearly.
Flawed, like all of us. Scarred. Embattled. From the very moment you were born your body continued to come under physical attack time and time again throughout your lifetime. And yet amidst that tragedy there were glorious moments.
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I love my daily hour or two with the Chairman of the Board. It would have to be the highlight of my day. It is the oxygen, the blood stream. It is the place of dreams. It is the source of hope. It is the realm of peace. It is the launch pad. It is the shelter. It is the rock. It is the comfort. It is the hug. It is the kiss. It is the joy. It is the tenderness of tears. It is the thunder. It is the expression of love.
I don’t know how people survive without this refuge.
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Impure religion is the greatest confuser of men’s souls. It interprets God’s original plan for mankind and distorts it to a point where men fail to understand what the difference is.
And that is when they seem to turn to Atheism, Agnosticism or any other ‘ism’ that fits with this particular bent and causes them to fail to recognize the significance of the cross in all of human history.
Impure and defiled religion - the greatest stumbling block upon which multitudes have tripped and fallen into the fires of hell.
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Life is full of significant moments. This one I am going to share with you was very significant. I wrote the following email to my mother today as I recounted that moment many years ago:
Hi Mum
At our Connect Group the other night, which we lead - about 20 adults from our church meet every fortnight - a member of our group shared how they led their grandad and grandmum to the Lord.
That reminded me of the following event which I am compelled to tell you, as I don’t know if I have ever shared it with you before.
Your dad to me was a poor example of what a grandad should be. A birthday card and a couple of bucks each year with the painful experience of having to ring and say thank you every year - as a kid - didn’t give me a lot of respect for him as a man. I was actually more and more offended as the years went by.
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