I’ve studied French since the 7th grade. Most of my life in other words. I know and understand a lot about the language. I’ve taught it to homeschoolers. I’ve read the Bible cover to cover in French twice. I could tell you why some verbs take être (to be) as a helper for the past tense versus the predominant avoir (to have). I could explain some of the nuances of the lovely word chez, which really doesn’t have an English equivalent. Or I can wax on the inadequacies of Le Petit Prince when translated out of the original French. But, other than the summer I lived in France, the language doesn’t live and breathe in me. I can read it, I can hear and understand it (especially if a guy is speaking or singing—women just are harder to hear the breaks between words), but to talk, I have to think too hard. It doesn’t come naturally because I don’t live with it day to day.

Why do I mention all of that? Because I think that’s an image of what it’s like for Christians to think or heaven or our life in Christ here and now. Because we were born in sin, goodness and godliness are foreign languages. We can study them all our lives after accepting Christ. We can know exactly how God wants us to live. We can hear and understand His voice and what His word says to us. But, because we don’t live in it day to day, because we aren’t in heaven yet, it doesn’t come naturally. We have to think too hard. And sometimes, because it’s not easy, because we have to work to speak the language, we fall short. We’re translating the life we know into the language of the life to come and often our native tongue has no way to express the concepts of what will be.

As Paul expresses it in 1 Corinthians 13, “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.” We might know all the right words, truths, doctrine, but it can fail to translate into our everyday. We aren’t speaking the language of heaven if God’s love doesn’t flow through us and then out to the world. And when we try to speak God’s language without the actual language, it’s just noise.

I remember years ago when I used the Metro everyday to get to work, I’d often run into to tourists. Sometimes, those tourists spoke French. I would do my best not to eavesdrop, but I was so hungry to hear the language as it was intended to be instead of my feeble efforts, that I’d often listen in. On more than one occasion, the French held a degree of panic because the speakers couldn’t find their destination. How it thrilled me to use what I knew to point them in the right direction!

None of us on this earthly plane speak heaven’s language fluently. We’re trying. We’re learning. But we do a lot of stumbling trying to find the right word for what we want to say.

Even so, we can use what we have learned to help others. If people are looking for directions, but they don’t yet know how to communicate well, we can help them along and point them in the right directions. We need to use what we have, translate what we have.

If we do that, we echo, even if imperfectly, the heavenly choirs. And the Holy Spirit, makes up for what we don’t know and cannot say.

Because translating heaven’s words to those who are lost is always the will of our heavenly Father.

Not enough comments this week to award a prize. I humbly ask that if you like these blogs, you pass them on and share them with others.

Monday, per his request, Jeremiah learned a bit about driving stick shift. In this picture, he was cruising around the parking lot of our choice (it’s usually more deserted than most), passing by a variety of parked cars.

Within an hour, he’d mastered most of the basics and passed Gary’s impromptu course!

I cannot believe that my nephew’s visit is over and done. It seemed to pass us by in a blink of an eye.

In each of those previous paragraphs, I used a form of the verb “to pass”. It is one of those verbs that has multiple meanings in English and other languages. The words translated from Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek into the word pass also have multiple meanings in Scripture. Things “come to pass” in both Old and New Testaments meaning that events have been fulfilled in such a way that things happen as God knew they would. People passed or traveled through the lands, winds passed over the earth, believers worried that God would pass them by. The angel of death passed over and passed through in order to create the Passover. Food was passed or shared in fellowship. The next king was found by walking or passing by the prophet Samuel. Time passed and people of fame or power, as well as geographic features, passed away. Ecclesiastes says that even the most noteworthy of human beings passes like a shadow.

But, the overwhelming majority of Biblical references refer to the passing of time, whether things come to pass or people, things, and animals pass away.

Time passes with every heartbeat or tick of the clock. Each thought, each breath, each step tells us that time is passing. Sometimes, when we’re in a season of trials or pain, we want the time to pass by, to zoom over the hardship. It’s the human response because the price of the fall, the cost of sin hurts us deeply. Even Jesus longed for the time of the trial and cross to pass by him. “He went a little farther, and fell on the ground, and prayed that if it were possible, the hour might pass from Him.” Mark 14:35, NKJV

But when the moments are good and shared with those we care about, we wish time had a brake pedal. Or at the very least, a clutch to slow the momentum. Of course, that only works if our season of life is level or uphill. If we’re heading into a valley of difficulty or trial, stepping on the clutch without the brake will cause us to pick up speed rather quickly.

Thankfully, some good moments seem to stretch time. When Karl, Erik, Jeremiah, and I played Catan on Saturday, it felt as if we had an abundant stretch of time to enjoy the game, but in reality, it was only about two hours. But the time felt full as if that was exactly what we were supposed to be doing at that place and time. (BTW, Jeremiah won in a stunning come from last to first victory!) I think that moments like that God opens time to its fullest to give us memory. But that’s just my opinion on why those times feel so different. Rather than time passing by, it seems we are passing within time.

We know, logically speaking, that one second is one second no matter how it’s spent. But as God is the creator of time and outside of it, I think He expands and contracts moments for His purposes just as He caused the sun to stand still until the battle was won.

If time is going to continue to pass by (and it will), weeks like my most recent one are some of the passing times that I will savor.

Myrtle, congrats on winning this week’s selection of books!

This week, our nephew Jeremiah will be visiting us. Because we’re expecting his arrival, Gary and I have cleared as much of our schedules as possible. While he’s here, I won’t be doing any tutoring and I’ll attempt to write only when he’s sleeping. That may sound half-hearted, but I have completed whatever I need to for deadlines I knew about and this blog will also be done and posted before he arrives. It’s just I know words attack me even when I try have their need cleared from my schedule!

We’ve also made the guest bedroom cozy and emptied several drawers so he can put his things away if he wants to. And while his response to my request for a food list was “I eat pretty much anything”, I’ve tried to stock things that my sons liked to munch on when they were teens and made sure I can cook or bake whatever else.

We want his visit to be as relaxing as possible. We also want him to feel at home while he’s here.

But the place you’re visiting, as nice (or not) as it may be is never home.

And that got me thinking about our lives here on earth. We are visiting. We are passing through. This is not our home.

The problem with life is that we don’t remember our true home. We feel the disconnect when things don’t go as they would in Eden or heaven. We know that we were made for something without all this pain. Because of sin, this world has so much brokenness. But because it’s all we truly know, we don’t see it a lot of the time. When we’re having fun, when we’re happy, when we’re surrounded by beauty, when love fills us, we can forget that this isn’t home. And then, we can get too comfortable. That would make us like the rich fool in Luke’s gospel.

16 Then He spoke a parable to them, saying: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded plentifully. 17 And he thought within himself, saying, ‘What shall I do, since I have no room to store my crops?’ 18 So he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there I will store all my crops and my goods. 19 And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years; take your ease; eat, drink, and be merry.”’ 20 But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul will be required of you; then whose will those things be which you have provided?’ Luke 12, NKJV

The man was foolish because he forgot he was visiting. He was just passing through. You’re allowed to relax and get comfortable when you’re visiting. You’re allowed to help out and be good company. You’re even allowed to see the sights and appreciate beauty where you see it. You just can’t forget that you’re not home yet.

CITIZENSHIP

 Not of this world,

No, this world's not mine,

I am a part

Of the world divine.

A world beyond

The world we know  

A world that keeps

This one in its folds.

All that said, I’m honestly looking forward to Jeremiah’s visit and wish it was a month instead of just a week!

Only three blog comments so no winner this week. Check in next week!