Start . . .
rowing up I used to hate it when teams had to be picked. I was not athletically minded or coordinated. I was a slow runner, could not hit the ball with the bat that would get me to first base, hit the yellow ball with the tennis racket or be one to climb up the rope in the gym. So, I was always one of the last to be picked. I hated it. What team would be stuck with me.
Now out of most of my friends, I will be the last to have an empty nest. Most days, I am thankful for that! Sometimes it gets discouraging when I am the last to get something nicer – such as a new car, new carpet or different home. But then, when I hear that still small voice, reminding me, that this is all so temporary . . .
So the last shall be first, and the first last:
for many be called, but few chosen.
And Jesus has chosen me, my husband and my children. And a few days ago, my last child asked Jesus into his life, to be His Savior, and now our family will be forever complete in heaven. The long weary nights, the 20+ years of homeschooling, the crying for a mama break, the worn furniture and seems okay (most of the time). Our family is sealed by the Savior’s nail-pierced hands. So, here on Earth, it’s okay to be last, since it won’t last for eternity.
. . . Finish