THE GIFT OF SALVATION

"Kristina, are you saved?

The question reverberated across the telephone lines.  I had just received the news that my beloved Uncle Walter had been hospitalized after nearly having a stroke 48 hours before.  Now, let me clarify:  Uncle Walter is not my biological uncle, although I did not realize that until I was almost 12 years old.  He was introduced to me, as a child, as "Uncle Walter" and I just assumed that he was my father's brother just like uncles Hector, William, Clifton, Milton, Richard, Al and James were my mother's brothers.  I knew on some level that my father was an only child, but they told me that Uncle Walter was my uncle and I accepted that.  I found out later that the "uncle" part was a term of respect for a man who fathered only two children, Juanita and Seth, but who served as surrogate father, uncle, big brother to literally hundreds of young people who were blessed to grow up in or around the Faith SDA Church in Hartford, CT.  And now, at 82, he was lying in a hospital bed in Jacksonville, FL after his blood pressure shot up to an unbelievable 202 / 98.

The question came as I spoke with another of his "nephews" who I called to inform of  the news that I'd received from Uncle Walter's wife, Aunt Nancy.  We were talking about the impact that Uncle Walter has had on our 50+ years of living on this earth when he asked me, out of the blue, "Are you saved?"  I paused for a second because I didn't know if he was trying to trick me into a debate about the merits of "once saved, always saved" [a belief that, as a Seventh-day Adventist Christian, I do not adhere to or believe] or what his motivation behind the question might be.  But I answered him "Yes, I am saved" which led to this further illuminating conversation.

Here's what I believe:  I am saved because Ephesians 2:8 tells us "For by grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves.  it is a gift from God."  Salvation is a gift from God.  The Amplified version of the Bible says, "For it is by God's unmerited favor  that you are delivered from judgment and made partakers of Christ's salvation through your faith."  There is NOTHING you can do to earn or buy or purchase salvation.  It is a gift FREELY given because of the sacrifice made by Jesus Christ when He died on the cross.  I believe that fundamental truth.

But there are some conditions attached to this gift.  [And all the theologians sit up in their seats and start shaking their heads, but I beg you - hear me out].  There are three conditions that I see are attached to this gift, just as there are to any other gift you are given.  The first is that you have to accept the gift.  A gift has no worth or value to you if you don't accept it.  It doesn't matter if the giver of the gift wraps it in a big box with pretty paper and puts a huge bow on it if, when it is presented to you, you say, "Wow, that's a pretty package, but I don't want it.  You can take it back to the store."  Jesus hung and died on the cross for you and offers you salvation as a result, but if you don't accept His gift, His sacrifice, it does you no good as it has no impact on your life.

The second condition to a gift is that once you accept the gift, you have to open it up.  If you take the pretty package with the big bow and just put it on a shelf somewhere, and you never open it up to see what is inside, what good does it do you?  Do you get the benefit of the scented candle or bath gel or warm scarf inside if you never rip off the wrapping paper and take the contents of the gift out?  Nope.  And you wouldn't do that, would you?  But many believers do just that.  They declare that Jesus Christ is the Lord of their lives and then they go on about their lives and live it in a way that does not reflect the character and love of Christ.  No judgment, just a statement.  Many disputes and arguments and even wars have been started "in the name of the Lord" when the Lord is in no way associated with the foolishness being debated and disagreed over.  

The final condition to a gift is that you have to use the gift.  What good does the bath gel do you if you just put it on the shelf in the bath room and never use it as you take your bath or shower?  What light can a candle provide in a dark room if it is never lit?  How do you stave off the chill of a cold wind if you leave the scarf at home in a drawer and never use it?  As believers, we "use" the gift of salvation when our lives change and begin to reflect the love and character of Christ.  I am not saying that you have to work your way into heaven [even though we are admonished that "faith without works is dead"] - what I am saying is that when you accept the gift of Christ's sacrifice {and thereby, the gift of salvation], people should see a difference in your life.  How you treat people should be gentler and kinder.  How you interact with those people who get on your last nerve should be less contentious and more agreeable.  When you are faced with trials, sorrows and adversities, there should be a difference in the way you handle it when compared to how someone one who is without faith and a knowledge of God handles the same situations.  

So, when I was asked the question "Are you saved?", I felt I could answer with confidence that I am saved. That doesn't mean I'm perfect - I will be the first to tell you about the fallacy of that idea - but it does mean that I am striving for perfection through the strength of God's love, grace and mercy.  Some days are better than others, and there will be days when we will stumble and fall - when we won't rightly represent our Creator.  But we are admonished in one of my favorite gospel songs sung by Donnie McClurkin that "we can get back up again ... for a saint is just a sinner who fell down, and got up."  

My Uncle Walter is on the road to recovery, and for that, I am grateful.  Over 2000 years ago, Jesus Christ hung on a cross for my sins ... for your sins ... and for that reason, we can truthfully say that we are saved, and walk forward, in confidence, knowing that the statement is true.

Be blessed.
© 2018 Kristina E. Smith

BEFORE AND AFTER

Behold, I am doing a new thing, now it springs forth.  Do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the dessert.  - Isaiah 43:19

I am NOT a gardener.  I don't like playing in the dirt, I don't like bugs and beetles and worms.  I never appreciated cut flowers and thought spending money on them was a waste of time and financial resources.  But my mother LOVES having cut flowers in our home.  She feels they brighten up the room, provide fragrance and basically, they just bring her joy.  And in the 20 years that we have shared a home together, I have found out the truth in the old adage:  When Momma is happy, everybody is happy.  So, I buy her roses and carnations and lilies and other floral delights ... most of the time without grumbling (too much).

There is a floral shop not far from our home that offers a dozen roses for $10 (barring those Hallmark holidays when all of a sudden, the prices triple and quadruple) and often, usually on Fridays, I will go in there and buy one or two dozen flowers and then use basic arranging skills to create various vases of floral beauties to place around the house:  one in the living room, one in her bedroom and one on the kitchen table.  With proper trimming of the stems, changing of the water and just general loving care, the flowers can last for two, sometimes three weeks, making the financial outlay a worthy investment.

But one day, I was shopping in a local grocery store and noticed, off to the side, a sad little bucket of flowers that were on their last floral legs.  Not worth selling at full price, they still were not "dead", and for little or nothing (I have paid as little as $1.99 for a dozen flowers), the flowers can be taken home to spruce up a dinner table for the weekend.  However, I have found that with just a little bit of loving care - pruning the dry, dead places off the bottom of the stems, adding some floral food to some warm water, putting the flowers in a cool and sunny place - the flowers seem to perk up and embrace a new life.  As pictured above, when I purchased my bouquet on Friday, these little accent plants were drooping and seemed almost dead.  I debated throwing them away immediately, but thought that the droopiness added another level to the arrangement and just figured if they started turning brown later in the week, I would throw them away when I changed the water.  Imagine my delight and surprise when I went upstairs on Sabbath morning and noticed that the flower was standing upright, and that even the leaves were perky and pointing upward.  I couldn't believe the overnight transformation that had been made.

Isn't that just like the transformation we personally experience when we are shown love, kindness and attention?  I am not only speaking of the benefit we receive from the restorative, transforming love of Jesus Christ, but often just a kind word or smile from a loved one - or even a passing stranger - can make us perk up, stand straighter and lift our chins heavenward.  I don't know about you, but a random stranger complimenting me on a scarf that I am wearing or an outfit I put together or even the smile that I have on my face - all of that, can turn a gloomy drab day into a bright, sunny, more glorious day.  I know when I have extended myself and complimented someone in this same manner - especially if they are a stranger to me - they pause for a moment as if processing what I am saying and then, a smile spreads across their face as they express their gratitude.  It has also been my experience that you never know when a kind word or a smile or just a random, genuine act of friendship can make all the difference in someone's life.  Try it.  Random acts of kindness not only enrich the lives of those you shower the kindness upon, but they also enrich your life because of the good feelings you get for doing so.

We all have been in a "before" state - droopy, listless, left for dead in a floral bucket at the grocery story.  Maybe you are in the middle of one right now. I pray that you soon experience your "after" state - restored, full of life and allowing the beauty that is within you to shine through as a blessing to all with whom you come in contact.

Be blessed.
© 2018 Kristina E. Smith

This is NOT my story

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT my story ... this is my brother's story. But as his sister, who listened in horror as he told it to me, I HAVE to say something.

When Michael Brown was gunned down in the streets of Ferguson, MO, I kept quiet. I didn't take to my blog or Facebook or anywhere else to discuss my feelings. And when I finally did, I was ... for lack of a better word, attacked ... by someone I thought I knew very well and who I thought knew me very well ... as being a racist or race baiter or some other inflammatory term that was used to try and put me in my place. After going round and round with her about it, I said, "let's just agree to disagree" and sat down and was quiet again. And then Walter Scott was killed in North Charleston, SC - and I kept quiet. Akai Gurley was gunned down in a stairwell in Brooklyn, NY and I kept quiet. In New York, Freddy Gray mysteriously broke his own spine while in police custody and eventually died from the injuries - I kept quiet. And the list of names goes on and on ... and I still kept quiet.

But then today, something happened that hit too close to home and I can no longer keep quiet. You see, today the craziness brought itself right up to my doorstep and into my heart and life. This morning, my brother rode his bike up to a drive thru window at a bank and was told that since he was not in a vehicle, they could not take his deposit and that he would have to go into the branch located in the mall to conduct his business. Ok. That's a little frustrating - he's at the window, take the money - but that's your policy, ok, I'll go inside the mall. He rides up to the mall and sees that there is no where to securely lock his bike, so he rolls it into the mall with him. He enters the bank. All of a sudden, the security guard is in his face, screaming and cursing, that he needs to get out of the bank with his bike. According to my brother (and to a little old lady who later came to his defense), my brother CALMLY responded, "there was nowhere for me to secure my bike outside, I will only be here for a minute, just chill out". The guard continued to yell and scream and curse at my brother - which drew the attention of other customers in the bank, who pulled out their cell phones and began recording the incident, as well as other shop owners near the bank. Now, my brother lives in the area, shops at the mall all the time and the shop owners know him to be a respectful, well-mannered customer. They also came to the bank to stand in defense of my brother. (Praise God for being raised the way we were. Our mother taught us to ALWAYS greet people with respect and this paid off today.) When the security guard continued to yell and curse at my brother, he asked to see his supervisor. Another "gentleman" came on the scene, as well as a police officer in the area. The police officer, without assessing the situation or asking any of the witnesses around my brother what happened, joins in the noise and hoopla of screaming and cursing at my brother. Now, if you know my brother, you know at this point, things got ugly and harried and potentially dangerous. Fortunately, when the security guard tried to say that he never cursed at my brother and that Kevin was the one agitating the situation, a little old lady came to his defense. Told the newly arrived "supervisor" and the police officer, that my brother had been nothing but a gentleman - had held the door open for her, and did not respond to the security guard who was originally screaming and cursing at him.

I don't know how the situation was resolved without my brother being put in the back of the police vehicle and carted away. I don't know why guns weren't drawn and shots fired. I can only credit the protective power of God and the fact that my mother calls the names of my brother (and me) every day in prayer.

As I listened to my brother tell his story, he was still angry. He was still cursing. He was still mad. So I had to keep quiet again to allow him to blow off the steam necessary for him to then turn around and walk into his place of employment without wanting to gun down every employee in the place who looks like and acts like the police officer and security guard that tried to hem him up because he rolled a bike into a bank. Now, I don't know about you, but I've seen other people (bike messengers, couriers, etc) RIDE their bikes into businesses and no one says a word. Was it the color of my brother's skin that prompted this security guard to react in the way that he did? Maybe. But according to my brother, the security guard that started the fight was a Black man. Only the police officer who came on the scene last was not Black. So I am not "race baiting" as I tell this story.

I am saddened and terrified by the world in which we live. A world where police officers, more often than not, are the enemy and not our friends. A world where Black men (and women) seem to have targets on their backs for every power hungry person with a little bit of ... authority with a gun strapped to their side. I cringe every time I see a video where someone not of color is allowed to spit in the face of a police officer - nothing happens - or run towards a police officer with a knife in their hand - nothing happens - BUT let a Black man run AWAY from a police officer and the police officer can shoot him 8 times in the back and say, "I feared for my life" and if not for the video of a citizen showing otherwise, would have gotten away with it. It sickens me and makes me sooo glad that I didn't bear any beautiful Black baby boys to grow up in fear of their lives.

This is not the first time my brother has had a run-in with the police. Unfortunately, I know in my heart and guts and soul, that this won't be the last. All I can do is join my mother in her prayers for his continued protection and safety until such time that he can move out of the neighborhood that he lives in, and into one where things are "better" (whatever THAT means in today's society).

I usually try to wrap up my blog postings with a scriptural lesson - a text - something that points to God. I am at a loss. Maybe it's the anger. Maybe it's the sadness. I don't know. I know I am grateful to God for protecting my brother. I have been to way too many funerals today and am not ready to don a black dress and sit on the front pew of a church and listen to people spin stories about the man they know my brother to be. I am not ready to have to support my mother through the senseless loss of her only child. I am not ready to become a campaigner or crusader against injustices found every day in our community and around the world. I'm not ready.

SAYING GOODBYE IS NEVER EASY

It is only 25 days into the New Year and already, the news of four deaths within my church family has reached my ears. On Monday, I will attend my second funeral of the year. It should be my third, but I was out of town and missed one. Already I am wondering if this year will be a repeat of 2009, when I stopped counting the number of funerals I attended when it hit 30 and we were only in June, with six months remaining in the year.

Death is a part of living, and I have reached that age where it is inevitable that I will experience the passing of my parents, my friends’ parents, my aunts and uncles – blood related and heart-tied, seasoned saints and other elders in my life. It’s a reality and foregone conclusion. It is just a fact of life - and on some level, I accept that, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I don’t have to like the fact that I can never pick up the phone and hear that voice again. I don’t have to like the fact that I will walk into church and never hear that booming voice or see that wide smile or feel that gentle handshake ever again. I don’t have to like it – but I do have to accept it as a part of life.

Acceptance. Easier said than done. However, as with all things, I have a choice. I can either spend the next few days wallowing in the morass of sorrow that threatens to overtake me when I think about the souls gone and departed. And there have been moments when that is all I want to do: go crawl in a corner and just have a good ole-fashioned, ugly, mess up all the makeup, don't even try to come and take a picture, cry. Yep, I could do that. Or, I can cherish the memories of the good times we had together on this side of heaven – knowing that, if I live my life faithful to what I believe, I will see them again on the other side of heaven. And when that happens, there will be no further separation because of death. We will live forever and ever in God’s presence and with each other.

I chose to remember and cherish. Remember the good works of those who have passed on. Remember the words of encouragement, love and support. Remember the laughs and smiles. Remember the admonitions to care for those less fortunate and to share the bounty that God has blessed me with. To honor the memories of those who have been laid to sleep until His return by living my life to the fullest and by keeping their memories alive in my heart and actions.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 reminds us that:

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."

Nothing happens without it being the prescribed time for it to happen. Life, death, happiness, sorrow – it is all a part of the cycle of life. I may not like this particular “season” in my life right now, but I know that it is only for a little while – and then the next “season” will come. E’en so, come quickly.

Be blessed.

©2013 Kristina E. Smith

SACRIFICIAL LOVE

I have said this before, and it bears repeating: I don’t get the whole idea of loving someone or something so much that you would give your life for that person, thing, or object. Maybe there is a fundamental defect in my character. Maybe, as some have suggested, it’s because I don’t have a child of my own – apparently, parenthood triggers that response in most normal people. But even when people tell me that, I just shake my head and think, “yeah, I don’t think so.”

All of this is on my mind because, while I pride myself on liking a wide and varied array of music, I never heard Bruno Mars’ hit single, GRENADE, until a few days ago. (In reality, I'd never heard of Bruno Mars. Sorry.) While visiting a friend, the song came on and we started discussing the lyrics:

I’d catch a grenade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Throw my hand on a blade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I’d jump in front of a train for ya (yeah, yeah , yeah)
You know I'd do anything for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Oh, oh
I would go through all this pain,
Take a bullet straight through my brain,
Yes, I would die for ya baby;
But you won't do the same…

When the song reached that last phrase, “but you won’t do the same”, I busted out laughing and said, “you got THAT right!” Of course, my friend just shook his head and we continued our discussion about the song and my response to it. Basically, I don’t want ANYONE to love me THAT much, ‘cause I know (deep down, in the crevices of my heart) I won’t reciprocate. And, talk about pressure! I mean, does it really take physical harm and pain in order to prove your love for someone? If so, count me out.

But then I thought – you know, that is EXACTLY what Christ did on Calvary for me. He gave up EVERYTHING, including His life, for miserable wretches like you and me who don’t even appreciate it – and, in reality, probably wouldn’t do the same. If you read (and believe) the Bible, there may come a time when you (and I) will be called upon to die for our beliefs. Can you imagine being called upon to die for the right to worship on the day that you personally believe to be the right day of worship? Don’t get it twisted: some of our Christian brothers and sisters around the world are already facing these challenges to their religious liberties and rights. There may come a day when my job and employment could be at issue because of my position as a Sabbath keeping Christian. What will I do? Will I then be able to sing Bruno Mars’ song about sacrificing it all for love - the love of Jesus Christ? I pray so, I hope so – because if anyone is worth loving in such a manner that I would be willing to lay down my life – it is definitely Jesus Christ. Just something to think about.

Be blessed.

© 2011 Kristina E. Smith
Tuesday, 1 March 2011