I once saw a birthday card that began its greeting with “Everything I love in life is illegal, immoral, or fattening.”
August 19, 2020
My plumber’s name is Rick. I like Rick, mainly because he has a great sense of humor. He comes when I call him and that pleases me. When you need a plumber, there is usually an emergency, and I can rely on Rick. My mechanic’s name is also Rick, and his workshop is within walking distance of my home. That’s convenient, because when something goes wrong, there’s no real inconvenience. I just drop my car there and walk home. I can trust Rick, and you sure need to be able to trust someone to whom you give your car keys and have them mess around with the brakes and other essentials—things that could determine whether we live or die. My doctor’s name is Hansen Wong. I like my doctor also. The first time we ever met he asked if I liked ping-pong. I said that I loved ping pong, and added that I could beat him blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. He smiled and said that when he visited China, no one could beat him. I told him that I was just kidding. My accountant’s name is Scott. He is an amazing man. I can’t figure out how his brain works. His desk looks like a mile-high trash dump, filled with a million papers. You can hardly see him behind it. Yet he knows where everything is and what everything means. I trust him because he handles my finances. That’s a big deal. My dentist’s name is Amrit Nehru. I like him because he’s a good dentist. I trust him and he trusts me. He has faith in me, evidenced by the fact that he puts his tender fingers between my sharp teeth. I trust him to put them into my mouth, to give me shots of substances that—for all I know, could kill me, and I trust him to drill holes in my teeth. I wouldn’t be a dentist if you paid me in diamonds daily. I couldn’t think of anything worse for a profession—than to stare down smelly human drains! It’s no wonder dentists have a high suicide rate. My pastor’s name is Bruce. I love, trust, and admire him immensely, because he not only has a humble heart, an amazing gift of teaching, but he has a wonderful sense of humor—which is an essential for anyone who stands in a pulpit. A sense of humor in a sermon is like an air conditioner in a car. Without it, I would find myself drifting off to sleep. My Savior’s name is Jesus. I trust Him with all of my heart, all of my mind, soul and strength. I trust Him because He can never disappoint me. This is because He is without sin. My Savior has saved me from the wrath that is to come. His blood washed my sins away and not only saved me from Hell, but He has granted me the gift of everlasting life. You may make it through life without a pastor, a mechanic, a dentist, a doctor, or a plumber. You may even make it through this life without trusting in Jesus, and contrary to popular opinion, your life may be fulfilling and pleasurable. That is, until death comes as an arresting officer, seizes you, and drags you before the Judge of the Universe—where all of your crimes against God’s Law will come out as evidence of your guilt. It’s a good feeling to be able to trust specialized people. When things go wrong, they are there for you. But they don’t hold a burned-out candle to my Jesus. My beloved is mine and I am His. He saved me from a very real Hell, and for that I will be eternally grateful.