Running water. Electricity. A stove. A microwave. Family. Sanity. Health. Domestic tranquility. Health care. Dexterity. Opposable thumbs. Involuntary muscle movement. Singing. Friends. Children. Parents. Nature. Mountains. Breezes. Fireplaces. Automobiles. Law enforcement. Aspirin. Hot water. Showers. Eyesight. Clotting. Emotions. Dogs. Sunsets. Siblings. The ocean. Companionship. Passion. Nerve endings. Shelter. Rocking chairs. Reading. Running. Refrigerators. Board games. Evangelism. The church. Firefighters. Pockets. Paved highways. Ozone. Cotton. Kindness. Shoes. Trees. Songbirds. Smiles. Waves. Shoes. The wisdom of the aged. Elders. Dentists. Coffee. Babies. Modesty. Make up. Music. Lights. Stars. Comfortable chairs. Eyeglasses. Leftovers. Devotionals. Airplanes. Sunrise. FedEx. Interstates. Telephones. Fresh, hot, and homemade bread. GPS. Front porch swings. Memories. Fertile fields. Prayer. Reading comprehension. Hearing. Smelling. Touching. Tasting. Harmony. Trust. Forgiveness. Wedding cake. Teachers. A spirit of cooperation. Sunglasses. Charity. Soap. Good neighbors. Fresh fruit. Beds. Fireflies. Encouragement. Imagination. The Lord’s church. Coffee. Thread. Belts. Livestock. Peace and quiet. Laughter. Pain. Flowers. Hikes. Language. Swallowing. Breathing. Teeth. The Bible. Maps. Love. Blankets. Wildlife. Humor. Curtains. Bedspreads. Snow. Sunshine. Rain. Clouds. Hope. Canned goods. Grandparents. Fellowship. Heaven. Providence. The cross.
“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow” (James 1:17)
Ernest Pusey was the third-oldest person in the world the day he died at age 111 on November 19, 2006. Nine days before, the man who had worked 32 years for General Motors and drawn retirement for 48 years entertained a visit from Florida Governor Jeb Bush. Bush was delivering something a bit overdue to Pusey-the Victory Medal he had earned from fighting in World War I from 1917-1919. He was a sailor in the Navy, charged with patrolling the seas around the British Isles. He went to church each Sunday and was able to walk from a friend’s car into his trailer (he preferred living there to nursing homes). A man extraordinary for longevity and survival, “Ernie” was a true hero remembered by his country on Veteran’s Day if a bit overdue.
Repeatedly, Bible writers speak of our Christian service in military terms. We are like soldiers, not serving at our own expense (1 Cor. 9:7). Epaphroditus (Phil. 2:25) and Archippus (Phile. 2) are referred to as Paul’s “fellow soldiers.” Paul urges young Timothy to behave properly as a soldier of Christ, telling him to endure hardness and avoid entanglement in the affairs of daily life (2 Tim. 2:3-4). Our Christian soldiering is implied through the imagery of the “whole armor of God” in Ephesians 6:10-17. But, when do we receive our “honor” and reward? We may want the world to appreciate and acknowledge our faithful service in our battle for souls, but that will not happen. We may suffer and struggle on the battlefield, stuck in the anonymity and anxiety of the trenches without fanfare or commendation. We will have to wait what seems like a long time before receiving “official recognition” for our tour of duty. Yet, our reward will be imperishable (1 Cor. 9:25) and eternal (1 Thes. 4:17)! Don’t lose heart. God will not forget your service for Him (Heb. 6:10).