Hope

The Death of a King

It was a moment I’ll never forget. I had traveled to England for work and decided to stay a few extra days to be a tourist. For someone who had previously hated traveling, this was a big adventure. On my own, out of the country, with absolutely no plan.

As I strolled the streets of London, I was in awe of the city. At that time, I had never experienced what it was like to be in a place where you could walk for miles and see nothing but activity. I was alone, yet surrounded by people. I was one of the masses enjoying the mysteries of modern life.

And then I came to the castle. Buckingham Palace to be exact. The flag was up – the sign that the Queen was in residence. Unlike most tourists, I had decided not to take the tour and to this day, I have no clue what the palace looks like on the inside. But it didn’t matter. I was dumbfounded. And for a girl who’s not easily impressed, this was a moment of magic.

As I stared the flag, it hit me. This was their queen. And the palpable air of respect permeated my surroundings. Being raised in America, I’m used to public officials being elected. The Queen hadn’t been elected; she was born into her position. I could no sooner ascend to her place than I could learn to fly. No desire, no volition, no action on my part could make us equal. She was the Queen; I was not.

Maybe it was the majesty of the moment, but it was only then that I realized the significance of saying that Christ, our King, had died for us. If I were an Englander, I would not be able to imagine a circumstance in which the Queen would choose to give her life for mine. But this is what the Heavenly King did. He gave up His birthright of royalty, to pay my penalty. What an Earthly queen could never be compelled to do, our Heavenly King did willingly on our behalf.

I still think I’m far from grasping the significance of that act. I think people who are familiar with a heritage of royalty probably have a better appreciation for it. But as I think back, I’m grateful for the night spent at the steps of the Queen. It helped prepare me for an eternity at the King’s feet.

Continue Reading

Hope

Closing the Loop

I like to read. A lot. And despite the fact that I read pretty voraciously, I know of only one book of which I got past the first page and never completed. In the same way, I think I can name ever movie that I started and didn’t see the end. One because it wasn’t funny, another because it was somewhat offensive and still another because the movie reel broke and I was too cheap to use my free ticket to see the same movie and find out how it ended. (One caveat – I know how Dumb and Dumber ends, but I’ve never seen it completely, a fact that some find mildly disturbing).

Similarly, I am pretty good at completing things outside of the world of entertainment. If there’s a task to be done, I’m your gal. A decision needs to be made? No problem. A meal that needs to be cooked, fire up the grill! In short, if there’s a goal that I’ve set, more likely than not, I’ll accomplish it.

Despite my desire for closure in most areas of my life, I hate good-byes. I’m the type of person who will start to avoid someone when I know they’re leaving. Many times I’ve driven former boyfriends crazy by making them stay on the phone until I thought we’d brought whatever topic we were discussing to completion (I’ve learned, by the way, that this doesn’t work. It’s better just to go to sleep and see how things look in the morning. What seems important at 1 am rarely is that important after a good night’s sleep).

Although I have known for a while that I avoid good-byes like most people avoid the plague, I’ve never really thought about why that was until recently. I think it’s because when I care about people the last thing I want in my life is closure. I want to believe in the uncanny ability to find people from your past in unexpected places and to remember all the good things that you associate with them. Relationships, unlike books and movies, aren’t meant to end; they are meant to carry forward, to bring out even better things as time marches on. An old friend used to talk about closing the loop – make sure that a conversation came full-circle so that its conclusion ratified its beginning. That’s not how I want my relationships. I want them to be open and incomplete, and for their conclusion to beg more questions, not only solicit answers.

One of the reasons I like books so much is because they transport you to another place and another time, but the situations that the characters go through are the same throughout history. After all, all of fiction is a footnote to Shakespeare. Our lives are a story, our history a script. However, unlike most good books, while the plot may be winding, the ending is sure. The Author is known, the characters memorable and a sequel in the works.

Continue Reading