Ties that bind?
According to Rasmussen Reports, 30% of Americans knew a murder victim. I am among that 30% and I was reminded of that in an unusual way today.
The other day, I was wondering when the trial for the alleged killer was going to take place. And in the midst of that, something else during the week reminded me that God hadn't forgotten a promise to me that more and more, I'm understanding is real. He, the way the reminder put it, has that promise on the FRONT of His mind all the time.
Perhaps that's why this story unfolded the way it did. There is more there than I understand about it, and sometimes writing helps me make sense of things.
Wendi is from Richmond, Indiana, which is a small city located on the Indiana/Ohio border along Interstate 70. It's so close, you can drive to New Paris, Ohio to buy beer on Sunday and be back at her dad's without even needing to buy ice to keep the beer cold.
And so was Willie. Willie has a last name which I forget. I knew him briefly from the Rescue Mission. We talked one day about Richmond, about eating pizza at Claire's, and about how he was trying to get his life together and get back home. Ogden wasn't home. Ogden was a girl and a drug problem. Ogden was trouble, and Ogden was where Willie got dead. He was 32.
His life ended in the street, shot with a shotgun, over an accusation of stealing some other girl's money one night. He wasn't at the mission, where he would have been safe. He'd left shortly before that. I never did get the story about why. All I know is I walked in and found out it was him that had been killed.
Willie had a common thread. We had a place in common; two actually, when I think about it. Richmond and the Rescue Mission. Willie was very open and receptive to the things of God we were learning about together, but I don't know if he ever in his heart accepted Christ. I would like to believe so. And Willie's story reminds me of one very simple fact:
The wages of sin is death.
Sin cost him his life.
Be it his or someone else's. And two families will never be the same. His, and the man that pulled the trigger.
Today we talked about judging people. I can state that the man that killed Willie sinned. I know Willie was a sinner. I am. You are. Whether or not either of us wants to admit it. What I am also is saved by grace, and that grace resulted in the death of the most perfect life that ever lived: Jesus. And because He overcame death, I have new life in him.
And I know someone who may or may not have made that choice.
One thing I understand though today: Waiting isn't an option. If you're fence sitting about Jesus, it's time to get off the fence. Tomorrow isn't promised.
So what does that gospel message have to do with judging people. I didn't pass judgment on the man who pulled the trigger. I wasn't there. I'm not him. What I said was that the action he took was sinful and it led to death.
Of that, I can make sense. God's word is pretty clear about sin and stuff. But what I can't make sense out of is why one of my co-workers on my crew, not just in my building, but a guy I work with every day was interviewed to sit on the jury. He had jury duty on Monday and was passed over as a juror for this trial.
Or why a passage of Scripture my pastor asked me why I didn't use in the lesson today was part of my planned reading for the day. I'm trying to wrap my head around why I knew the victim and why I was so close to knowing one who would hold the fate of the man who took his life in his hands.
But I'm not God, and He knows.
I know several people who I sincerely believe are in Heaven. They are professing Christians. I know just as many more who are not, no matter how much I want to pretend they are. And I know a couple of people who I just don't know about.
Like Willie.
I had a long talk with God about death though. And sometimes there is that sin that leads to death. Sometimes, I honestly think God lets it come to save us from things that are worse, like a slow one. I read a story about a Navy Seal who died in a firefight in Afghanistan. By the time of his death, he was so wrecked and his body so wracked with pain and broken, he would have had a long and painful existence after the military. He also was a recovering Meth addict. And in reading his story, I sincerely believe God took him home the way He did to save him and his family from the trauma of the life he would have had.
I don't know that. I'm not God, but I believe that to a certain extent.
My friend Jim died. The answer to our prayers of healing for him at the end was to end his mortal suffering. Jim knew Jesus. He will be there with I hope the best cup of coffee I will ever drink and say to me: "Hey, man." when it's my turn to go home.
God uses lots of things as teaching moments and I'm still not quite sure about how this applies in all its' ways. I'm thinking as I type this that I'm not supposed to. What I am supposed to do though is just this:
Let God be God.
He has reasons for everything. It very well could be as a co-worker told me tonight, just completion. I knew Willie, and now I knew someone with details of the trial of the man who ended his life, but not his story.
I told my chapter in Willie's story because it was one of his last. I have hope that if you're reading this and you're sitting on the fence, the next chapter in yours begins with: I accepted Christ as Savior.
And then, you and I dear reader, will have our own ties that bind. Brotherhood or sisterhood in Christ and members of His church, the body of believers!
The other day, I was wondering when the trial for the alleged killer was going to take place. And in the midst of that, something else during the week reminded me that God hadn't forgotten a promise to me that more and more, I'm understanding is real. He, the way the reminder put it, has that promise on the FRONT of His mind all the time.
Perhaps that's why this story unfolded the way it did. There is more there than I understand about it, and sometimes writing helps me make sense of things.
Wendi is from Richmond, Indiana, which is a small city located on the Indiana/Ohio border along Interstate 70. It's so close, you can drive to New Paris, Ohio to buy beer on Sunday and be back at her dad's without even needing to buy ice to keep the beer cold.
And so was Willie. Willie has a last name which I forget. I knew him briefly from the Rescue Mission. We talked one day about Richmond, about eating pizza at Claire's, and about how he was trying to get his life together and get back home. Ogden wasn't home. Ogden was a girl and a drug problem. Ogden was trouble, and Ogden was where Willie got dead. He was 32.
His life ended in the street, shot with a shotgun, over an accusation of stealing some other girl's money one night. He wasn't at the mission, where he would have been safe. He'd left shortly before that. I never did get the story about why. All I know is I walked in and found out it was him that had been killed.
Willie had a common thread. We had a place in common; two actually, when I think about it. Richmond and the Rescue Mission. Willie was very open and receptive to the things of God we were learning about together, but I don't know if he ever in his heart accepted Christ. I would like to believe so. And Willie's story reminds me of one very simple fact:
The wages of sin is death.
Sin cost him his life.
Be it his or someone else's. And two families will never be the same. His, and the man that pulled the trigger.
Today we talked about judging people. I can state that the man that killed Willie sinned. I know Willie was a sinner. I am. You are. Whether or not either of us wants to admit it. What I am also is saved by grace, and that grace resulted in the death of the most perfect life that ever lived: Jesus. And because He overcame death, I have new life in him.
And I know someone who may or may not have made that choice.
One thing I understand though today: Waiting isn't an option. If you're fence sitting about Jesus, it's time to get off the fence. Tomorrow isn't promised.
So what does that gospel message have to do with judging people. I didn't pass judgment on the man who pulled the trigger. I wasn't there. I'm not him. What I said was that the action he took was sinful and it led to death.
Of that, I can make sense. God's word is pretty clear about sin and stuff. But what I can't make sense out of is why one of my co-workers on my crew, not just in my building, but a guy I work with every day was interviewed to sit on the jury. He had jury duty on Monday and was passed over as a juror for this trial.
Or why a passage of Scripture my pastor asked me why I didn't use in the lesson today was part of my planned reading for the day. I'm trying to wrap my head around why I knew the victim and why I was so close to knowing one who would hold the fate of the man who took his life in his hands.
But I'm not God, and He knows.
I know several people who I sincerely believe are in Heaven. They are professing Christians. I know just as many more who are not, no matter how much I want to pretend they are. And I know a couple of people who I just don't know about.
Like Willie.
I had a long talk with God about death though. And sometimes there is that sin that leads to death. Sometimes, I honestly think God lets it come to save us from things that are worse, like a slow one. I read a story about a Navy Seal who died in a firefight in Afghanistan. By the time of his death, he was so wrecked and his body so wracked with pain and broken, he would have had a long and painful existence after the military. He also was a recovering Meth addict. And in reading his story, I sincerely believe God took him home the way He did to save him and his family from the trauma of the life he would have had.
I don't know that. I'm not God, but I believe that to a certain extent.
My friend Jim died. The answer to our prayers of healing for him at the end was to end his mortal suffering. Jim knew Jesus. He will be there with I hope the best cup of coffee I will ever drink and say to me: "Hey, man." when it's my turn to go home.
God uses lots of things as teaching moments and I'm still not quite sure about how this applies in all its' ways. I'm thinking as I type this that I'm not supposed to. What I am supposed to do though is just this:
Let God be God.
He has reasons for everything. It very well could be as a co-worker told me tonight, just completion. I knew Willie, and now I knew someone with details of the trial of the man who ended his life, but not his story.
I told my chapter in Willie's story because it was one of his last. I have hope that if you're reading this and you're sitting on the fence, the next chapter in yours begins with: I accepted Christ as Savior.
And then, you and I dear reader, will have our own ties that bind. Brotherhood or sisterhood in Christ and members of His church, the body of believers!
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