I May Live in Virginia, but…

I enjoy walking outside in the neighborhood when weather permits, but generally I end up walking at the local mall, which is just a mile up the road from our place. Even though a number of its stores have closed in recent years, it still has an abundance of jewelry stores–five at last count, and that’s not including the kiosks that sell only watches or earrings.

But one of the more interesting stores sells tee-shirts.

Thank goodness they’ve quit displaying the vulgar ones near the front where passersby could see them. But they have TONS of tees allowing the wearers to say something about their favorite sports team: “I may live in Virginia, but my team is in Texas” or whatever state houses their team. I keep passing up the temptation to buy an Oakland tee for my son-in-law; he’s enough of an Oakland fanatic already!

It’s harmless fun, though, even though I don’t have any interest in the team tees. How could I? I don’t like any kind of sport, much less a team (or individual) who plays it.

Okay, maybe I’m not a typical American in that respect, but at least I’m married to another American who feels the same way.

This tee-shirt place also prints whatever the customer might want on a tee-shirt. When The Devil and Pastor Gus first came out, I had them make a tee with the book cover on it. When my publisher ultimately changed the cover–big improvement–that left me with a tee I couldn’t really use. I can’t recall whether I stuck it away permanently in a drawer or gave it to Goodwill in the hopes it might end up being useful to someone as clothing rather than as a custom dust rag.

I keep thinking about those “I might live in Virginia” tee-shirts, though. That idea doesn’t need to be limited to sports teams. What about “…but my grandkids live in Florida”?

Hmm. That should get some sympathy from other people who don’t live close enough to their grandkids, don’t you think? I might have to get that one made one of these days.

But the one I really want to have made has quite a different message. As a Christian, why not “I may live in Virginia, but my home is in Heaven”? I can hear the old song now, the one that says, “This world is not my home; I’m just a-passing through.”

I like my earthly life. I value it. I want to live as long as I can do so in relative comfort and participate in activities that make me feel useful. And I want to be the best citizen of this world I can be.

Nonetheless, even as beautiful as many parts of the world are, as wonderful as most people are, the world is still an evil place. Adam and Eve didn’t do us any favors. In fairness to them, however, somebody else would have sinned first and gotten mankind kicked out of the Garden of Eden if they hadn’t done it.

I believe in Heaven, and I look forward to eternity there. Everything that is imperfect on earth will be perfect in Heaven. No wonder I think of that as my real–my ultimate–home. I hope you do, too.

Do you? Do you believe in Heaven and are you assured of your place there through faith in Jesus? How about sharing a comment?

P.S. After completing this post I learned of another good “heavenly” tee-shirt slogan: “Virginia born, Heaven bound.”

NOTE: Various people have complained about not being able to find or leave comments. Go all the way to the bottom of this post, beneath my “Best regards, Roger.” On the very bottom line of that last section just above the previous post you’ll see “Leave a Comment” if yours will be the first or “X Comments,” where  X denotes the number of existing comments.

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I’ll be back again on Sunday. If you’d like to receive my posts by email, go to “Follow Blog via Email” at the upper right.

Best regards,
Roger

The Perfect Perfectionist

If you didn’t read my blog post this past Sunday, let me say it was about my being a “frustrated perfectionist” in so many important areas of my life. Even though I do my best, I always feel I should’ve been able to do better.

You know what, though? Whatever talents I have came from God, and when it comes to creativity, He doesn’t make mistakes. He’s the ultimate perfectionist–the Perfect Perfectionist, you might say–and I can never match any of the things He’s made.

I wouldn’t begin to know how to create a universe. Not even to design one.

I used to marvel at what the biblical book of Genesis says about the days of creation and what God did on each of those days. Whether you believe those were twenty-four hour days or longer periods of time, God didn’t simply snap his fingers to make what He made each day.

He planned it out first. Don’t ask me how. I would have to be God to understand how He did it. If he hadn’t needed to plan everything, then He might’ve done everything–or could have, anyhow–in a single day. But not even the Perfect Perfectionist rushed the Creation process. He enjoyed designing and creating everything, just as we do when we do something that makes us feel satisfied.

God’s perfect planning and creativity resulted in the Garden of Eden and the first human beings–along with so much more. And He looked at it day by day and saw that it was good.

He’s so intelligent He knew He couldn’t force humanity to love Him–that wouldn’t be love. So He created free will, and Adam and Eve’s choice to use that freedom in a sinful way resulted in their expulsion from God’s perfect Garden–and in the introduction of sin into the world, not to mention death.

The biblical writer who said, “There’s nothing new under the sun,” had it right. When God created everything that we’re able to detect with one or more of our senses, He established patterns we follow throughout our lives. Not only does “every good and perfect gift come from above,” every good and godly idea does, too.

That’s why I tend to look at my newest novel or my latest song and think, “I didn’t write that. God did. I only succeeded at doing as good a job of putting it into human language as I depended on God’s leadership to do.”

Or as I’ve been known to say at times, “God wrote it. He did it perfectly. All of the mistakes and imperfections are mine.”

What about you? Do you believe mankind’s creativity is actually a reflection, as it were, of God’s creativity? Any other comments about this post?

NOTE: Various people have complained about not being able to find or leave comments. Go all the way to the bottom of this post, beneath my “Best regards, Roger.” On the very bottom line of that last section just above the previous post you’ll see “Leave a Comment” if yours will be the first or “X Comments,” where  X denotes the number of existing comments.

~*~

Links you might be interested in:

I’ll be back again on Sunday. If you’d like to receive my posts by email, go to “Follow Blog via Email” at the upper right.

Best regards,
Roger