I wake with the words of this hymn on my mind.
"I'll fly away, oh glory
I'll fly away
When I die, Hallelujah
By and by, I'll fly away.
Some bright morning
When this life is over, I'll fly away
To a land on
God's celestial shore, I'll fly away.
When this life is over, I'll fly away
To a land on
God's celestial shore, I'll fly away.
When the shadows
Of this life have grown, I'll fly away
Like a bird from
These prison walls, I'll fly, I'll fly away."
I've been fighting a weight of darkness. Swimming upstream in a torrent of emotions, with joy set before me, considering Him who endured, that I may not grow fainthearted.
You know that saying that goes something like, "Don't be so heavenly minded that you are no earthly good." I don't know who said it or what he/she thought she was saying, but somehow the saying stuck. The problem is, it's not true. I grow fainthearted when I am not heavenly minded; when I do not have my mind set on things above.
How on earth do you suppose that you could be too heavenly minded? Why not long for the day that John tells us about when he got a sneak peak behind a door standing open in heaven? Why not linger on the hope that I will meet our Saviour face to face, dwell with Him in perfect unity, to sit at His feet, fall down before Him, singing a new song?
Sickness has a way of giving you a more heavenly perspective.
The specialist shared his most educated guess that I'd have about two years for my severely narrowed aortic valve to hold up, but he doesn't really know. It could be less time or more. I'll just need to keep toughing it out and when I faint call him and he'll sit down with the surgeon again and see if anything could be done. It's not hopeful, but nothing can be down to reverse the damage, so we will keep pressing on. Maybe, pray for a miracle.
I leave the clinic on Monday thinking of the woman who reached out in faith, touched only the hem of Jesus's garment and was made well. Is my faith too small?
Do I want to be made well?
Like Paul said, "For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain."
What's so bad about this heavenly longing?
It actually gives me a peace and an inexpressible joy as I endure various trials. It's the good news that gives hope, the accomplished work of Christ that the angels long to fully understand, and we, as believers, get to experience and believe, and rejoice with this unspeakable joy.
Now on Friday, a young woman, far too young for death to claim her according to human standards, was called home.
She knows this joy fully now. A few weeks ago, she proclaimed these words of hope as she fought the cancer in her body. The words made an impact on me when I listened the first time weeks ago, but this morning as I watched again after a friend posted the news that she was now FREE, her words reverberated hope in deep crevices:
"We are never alone, and don't have to fear the unknown. I try to live day to day, as everyday as truly a blessing from God because you never know when God may want you to come home. I try to just live through each day and to praise Him for every breath I have because you never know when it will be your last."
As her story closes here on this earth, tears slip down my cheeks. When we pause to bow and praise God for this young woman we've never met and for calling her to Himself, and now home to Him, my little one bores her eyes into mine and asks why.
I have no words, just this deep rumbling in my soul that whispers of the mingling of pain and joy, trials and trust, an unseeing love that only a heavenly mind would dare to cling to.
God at Work - Jacqueline Li from Harvest Bible Chapel York Region on Vimeo.
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Also linking with Five Minute Friday at Lisa-Jo's place. This week the prompt is: Fly
Officially, the rules are:
2. Link up at Lisa-Jo's and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community...



















