Happy Birthday, Jenny. I was coming home from Jackson this afternoon and, pulling into town, I couldn’t help but drive over to the cemetery and pay a visit. All day today I have thought about you. And still, I shake my head in wonder that you are gone. It continues to be so surreal. As I pulled in to the drive of the cemetery, I tried to get my head to wrap around your death. It is still so unbelievable to me at times that I have to say out loud - my big sister is dead. Though, it’s more like - my big sister is dead? I found your spot and parked the car and walked over. I knelt down and ran my fingers over your name and your birthday and said them out loud, so it would feel more real, and I cried for you. I promise, I will never stop missing you.
Fittingly, Dad sent me a You Tube last night of a portion of an Alistair Begg sermon. In it, he argues against faith plus works gaining us our salvation. He describes how he imagines it may have been when the thief on the cross was gaining entry into heaven....
An angel, questioning him, “What are you doing here?”
The thief, “Uh, I don’t know.”
Angel: (stammering) “Let me go get my supervisor.”
Supervisor Angel: “Ok, let’s ask a few questions. Are you clear on the doctrine of justification by faith?”
Thief: “Never heard of it in my life.”
Supervisor Angel: (stuttering) “Uh... and what about the doctrine of scripture?”
Thief: (staring)
Supervisor Angel: (frustrated) On what basis are you here?
Thief: The Man on the middle cross said I can come.
Alistair Begg says and more importantly, the Bible teaches, that is THE ONLY answer any of us can give. Our salvation, our entry into eternal bliss, is based solely on the merit and work of Christ on the cross. It is based on nothing I have done or can do.....
So... back to your birthday. Birthdays make us think of gifts and since there is no more giving gifts to you on yours or even you giving gifts to me on mine, let me just say this - though we may no longer exchange any tangible gifts, your death, while heartbreaking and so deeply, deeply sad, has been and will forever be such a gift to me. Because I think of my own death so much more. It may sound morbid, but.... what a gift - to be reminded of death every time I think of you, which is daily. I am going to die. I had better be preparing for it. And claiming the cross of Christ every day until and especially ON that day He calls me home. And if (or when) I am asked, “On what basis are you here?” I will point to Jesus and say, “The Man on the middle cross said I can come.”
