The Phil Files

After going to a school night with Donna — something I actually enjoyed quite a bit more than I anticipated — I was blessed to have a long-time friend come into town. He drove over from Dallas where he had spent the week on business. My friend, Danny, used to live a few minutes up the road from when I lived in Pflugerville — say that three times in a row without spraying someone nearby. He now lives closer to our kids in Kentucky.

Danny and I met at Tuscany’s, a local coffee place, where we visited for about three hours. We laughed and joked. I shared with him about my trip to Uganda with Compassion and showed him pictures and the video of my visit to Doreen. Then we talked about serious stuff.

One great blessing with some friends, and it is this way with Danny and me, you can just pick up and start where you are in your life right now and the years melt away — the love, the respect, the friendship is still there, the easy-ness in conversation comes back and it’s as if you hadn’t been apart. Tonight was a great grace.

As we visited, we both noticed that most of the folks in the place were younger than most of our kids. Some of them looked at us kinda strange, like, “What are you two old geezers doing in here at this time of night?” But we didn’t worry about it, we had become friends in Austin where the famed “Keep Austin Weird” t-shirts reigned supreme. We felt right at home with the local version of the t-shirt, “Keep Abilene Boring.”

While much of Abilene may have felt bored on a fairly innocuous Friday night, Danny and I both felt blessed. Friendship is a taste of heaven, a time and a place where all of our relationships are perfected and we are in the presence of the Lord. For a moment, I got to re-visit what that expectation means in real time. As much as I like the diet Tuscan Sunset, a lemonade, tea, and raspberry drink, the taste of heaven was better.

In the last book of the Bible, we are told twice that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes and the old order of things that has brought death, sorrow, and pain will be no more (Revelation 7:17; 21:4). There are times that I long for that day because death, sorrow, and pain hang so heavily in the air we breathe. They are very much the human condition.In Luke 7, our reading for today, Jesus is very much about eliminating death, sorrow, and pain. The healing of the Centurion’s servant, the raising from death of a widow’s only son, his marks of identity as the Messiah — the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with leprosy are healed, those who are deaf can hear again, the dead are raised, and good news is preached to the poor — and the forgiveness given to a sinful woman of the city. In anticipation of the great and final day when every tear will be dried — the day when the Lord will put his finger on our tear stained cheeks and usher in the ultimate healing and joy. At the heart of this healing of our hearts is the great truth in the verse that caught my heart this morning:

//Inspiration: Luke 7:13
When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.”

//Incarnation: What this verse means to my life todayTo think the Creator of heaven would look at us, experience the pain in our hearts, and then have His heart go out to us is staggering. “O yes, He cares, I know He cares, His heart is touched with my grief!” That’s what the old hymn declares and this verse reminds us. So in my darkest of nights, in my most heartbroken of moments, in those soul-brittle times of betrayal, abandonment, and despair, the Lord sees my hurt and His heart goes out to me. It is important that I declare this aloud to myself in those moments. I need to remind myself of this truth in these moments. And I also need to declare to myself, and to others, that Jesus knows the tracks of my tears and will one day touch them, heal their hurts, and welcome me home to a place where death, sorrow, and pain have disappeared in the light of his grace!

//Invitation: My prayer for todayO God of wonder, Father of mercy, and Lord of grace, be near me. Help my heart feel your presence. Give me the courage to believe that your heart goes out to me when I hurt. Empower me with faith to believe that you are there and care when I feel alone. And, dear Father, help me declare my faith that I know there will be a day when joy reigns and sorrow, pain, and death are banished by the grace of your presence. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.