Diamond Cuts Diamond

I’m not sure the ability to simply hang in there is the best way to judge a great marriage. Tolerating each other for years out of habit doesn’t, in my eyes, qualify someone to give marriage advice. But whenever people hear that we’ve been married for 40 years, they inevitably ask, “What’s your secret?”, as if there’s a magic formula.

Truth be told, that question renders me speechless because I’m as surprised as anyone that I’ve completed a 40-year stint in marriage. Yes, there were people who predicted our marriage wouldn’t last. I now have the privilege of saying to them, “Hold my beer.”

But really, marriage isn’t the magical movie ending where two people ride off into the sunset holding hands as they grow old. Like any worthwhile endeavor that lasts a lifetime, parts of marriage hurt.

Marriage begins with a diamond ring. I’m convinced the deeper lesson is found in the stone, not the ring itself. Unlike the old wedding speech about the ring representing an unending circle, I think the diamond mounted on top tells the better story.

There’s a part of my life most people don’t know about. Believe it or not, I used to facet gemstones. That’s a long story for another day. To produce a beautiful faceted stone, you begin with an ugly rock. You search for one with the greatest potential and the fewest natural flaws. Then you place it on a faceting machine armed with abrasives harder than the stone itself.

Do you see where I’m going?

Step one is choosing the right rock. Among all the ugly rocks, you have to believe you’ve found the one with the greatest potential. That’s where falling in love comes into the story. And don’t fall in love with the hopelessly flawed rock. (Sorry if that isn’t very sentimental, but no one has ever accused me of being a sentimental girl.)

The faceting machine must be equipped with the proper grit. To create those light reflecting facets the hardness of grit must be equal. You can’t create a facet in a diamond with quartz. All participants must be equally invested and equally tough because the abrasive property has to be strong enough to knock off those raw edges. Your grit has to match the challenge. 

Then the grinding begins. The stone is turned at carefully measured angles as each facet is cut, all the while hoping some hidden flaw doesn’t suddenly appear and split it in two. 

At this stage, the stone still isn’t very impressive. It is still dull. It hasn’t been polished yet.

So how do you polish it?

Not with pampering creams, but with more sanding.

This time, however, the coarse grit is gone, leaving only friction.

That’s the part of marriage I compare to the daily rhythm of companionship. You can’t be polished into something beautiful if you aren’t together. The shared routines, ordinary days, hardships, laughter, disappointments, victories, and yes, even the occasional friction, are what create the shine. If you constantly go your separate ways in pursuit of individual adventures, you’ll never develop that brilliance. You have to stay together long enough for the warmth of companionship and even the heat of friction to do their work.

Eventually, that ugly rock becomes something breathtaking. You look at it with pride, fully aware of everything it took to reveal the beauty that was there all along.

So there it is; my secret to marriage.

Choose the right ugly rock.

Bring a similar amount of grit.

Encounter daily life together to generate enough friction to create the sparkle.

After all, diamonds are cut by something just as hard as they are.

Diamond cuts diamond.

Now excuse me while I go knock off a few rough edges. 

Let Him In Anyway

 A recent song by Blake Shelton tells the story of a man pleading with God to let his deceased friend into heaven anyway. I’m guessing the songwriter believed his friend didn’t always live up to his potential. As I read the comments people made about the song, I noticed that nine out of ten people seemed to wonder whether their loved ones had made the cut.

My initial reaction is to shake my head, but that response comes from the privilege of having a strong biblical foundation. Even so, I admit that I sometimes wonder whether my own loved ones will be in heaven when I get there. Still, I am amazed by how many people believe they must be good enough to earn their way into heaven. Books, movies, and television shows often reinforce this mistaken belief.

Ephesians 2:8-9 (NIV)

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Verse after verse in Scripture tells us that salvation is a gift, not something to be earned. The Bible tells us that all our righteousness is like filthy rags before God. Let’s put it another way: all of Billy Graham’s righteousness was like filthy rags before God. Does that mean Billy Graham didn’t make it to heaven? Absolutely not. But it does mean that all the amazing things Dr. Graham accomplished on earth did not earn him a ticket to heaven. He is in heaven because of God’s grace, and I’m quite certain he would tell you the same thing.

God made it simple.

Believe God.

Believe that He is who He says He is.

Believe that even Billy Graham needed the sacrifice of Jesus Christ to save him.

Believe that Christ’s sacrifice is enough for anyone who recognizes their need for forgiveness.

Jesus loves us even when we are belligerent, selfish, or cruel. He washed us with His own blood and made a way for us to be reconciled to God. Our choice is simple—believe or reject that gift. And only God truly knows our hearts.

Hear this:

God is loving and gave His Son for us. He is not looking for technicalities to keep people out of heaven.

How can you be sure?

Get to know Him.

Talk to Him.

Read about Him.

Learn His heart.

You will see.

And don’t forget the verse that follows the most famous verse in the Bible.

John 3:16-17 (NIV)

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.”

If you lost a loved one who didn’t live up to the standard you believe is required to enter heaven, maybe it’s time to rethink your views on salvation—and on God. None of us could ever get in on our own merit. It is only through God’s grace, received by humble faith.

So, to answer Blake Shelton’s request: Of course He will let him in anyway—if his friend placed his faith in Christ. The good news of the gospel is that heaven is not reserved for people who are good enough. If it were, none of us would qualify. It is a gift of grace given to those who trust in Jesus.

We all have doubts and questions when a loved one passes away. We wonder if they believed. We replay conversations and wish we knew more. But perhaps those moments are a reminder to turn from faithless worry and choose faithful trust in Christ’s incredible rescue. Our hope is not in the goodness of the one who died, but in the goodness of the Savior who died for them.

Because of Jesus, we can rejoice that salvation is not earned—it is received. And all who call upon His name are welcomed home.

Psalm 130:1-4 NIV

Out of the depths I cry to you, LORD; Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. If you, LORD, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

I Now Realize

 In Acts 10:9-48, we read the story of how Peter came to realize that no group was to be excluded from God’s Kingdom. Through a series of visions from God, Peter comes to understand this new reality. 

Here are a couple of key verses from that story:

Acts 10:27-28 NIV

While talking with him, Peter went inside and found a large gathering of people. He said to them: “You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to associate with or visit a Gentile. But God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean.”

Acts 10:34-35 NIV

Then Peter began to speak: “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.”

“I now realize” is a pivotal phrase from Peter in the book of Acts. He had been a believer for years. He had witnessed miracles and performed them through the power of the Holy Spirit, yet he still carried a cultural hang-up about Gentiles.

God suddenly challenged a mindset that had been shaped by Peter’s upbringing as a Jewish boy. He had been taught what to eat and with whom to associate. Peter could not fathom a Christ follower who ate pork and wasn’t Jewish. It wasn’t that Peter was a bad man. His upbringing had simply taught him otherwise.

Peter had a lifetime of cultural conditioning. Because of his religious tradition and its interpretation of Scripture, he viewed some people groups as beyond the reach of God’s love. 

We read this story and wonder, How could Peter think any group of people were beyond God’s love after all he had experienced as an apostle of Jesus?

Flashlight Holders

Like the meme implies, if you've ever been a flashlight holder, you know it is not a job for the faint of heart. Nothing in life teaches humility quite like holding a flashlight while someone else does the actual work. And the lessons can be harsh.

Of course, flashlight holders are not always standing beside their dad while he fixes the car. Anyone who has ever been an assistant, helper, or support person has held a flashlight. And it is much harder than it sounds.

Some of us spend a lifetime in the position of helper. Not only do you have to support the doer, but you have to be in the right place at the right time. You have to listen carefully and keep your mouth shut when you're tempted to offer unnecessary advice. You have to know when to speak and how to do it without offending the director of operations. You need enough knowledge to anticipate the next move before it happens. Sometimes you have to offer encouragement while dodging accusations and blame. And if you're anything like me, you also have to keep your itchy fingers from taking over the project yourself.

Chances are, your role is more support than leadership. It takes many people to support a mission, but only a few are called to lead it. There is only one surgeon performing the operation, yet an entire team is working alongside him or her. Though much of their work happens behind the scenes, their contribution is essential.

The challenge is that when the job is done well, the spotlight rarely falls on the flashlight holder. The accolades go elsewhere. At best, you might receive a quick thank-you before everyone moves on.

So who are history's famous flashlight holders?

Most of us couldn't name them.

Do you know the names of Thomas Edison's assistants? How about the people who influenced Isaac Newton? Who helped refine the assembly line or supported the Wright brothers as they pursued flight? History remembers the leaders and innovators, but countless unnamed people made their success possible.

The truth is that there is very little glory in being support staff, but nothing significant gets accomplished without them.

So where do we learn how to be a great flashlight holder?

The Bible is filled with them.

Mordecai stood behind Esther and helped guide her during a critical moment in history. Jonathan supported David even when it cost him personally. Pilate's wife tried to warn her husband about Jesus’ innocence, though he ignored her counsel.

But my favorite biblical flashlight holder is Mary Magdalene.

While the disciples hid behind locked doors, Mary went to the tomb. She was among the first to discover that it was empty and among the first to proclaim that Jesus was alive. God entrusted one of the greatest announcements in human history to someone who would never hold an official position of leadership.

Without Mary and other women, Jesus may have had to ‘Gibbs-slap’ the other disciples before they figured it out. Sometimes the flashlight holder sees the truth before everyone else.

So the next time you find yourself working in the shadows while someone else receives the recognition, remember this: progress stops without knowledgeable, dependable, and supportive flashlight holders.

The light may not be shining on you, but it is shining because of you. 

Salt and Light

 Her alarm rings. It is Tuesday morning.

She drags herself into the kitchen for a cup of “awake.”

She is tired. Last night she worried about some of her students. But she finds her way to that familiar spot of refuge with the steaming cup, Bible, and journal.

As she prays, she asks God to forgive her for the lack of enthusiasm and the failure to remember those words of Scripture beyond a brief minute. Is she just going through the motions? Why didn’t God send her to be a missionary to China—or at least let her teach a Sunday School class? She wonders, when will she actually be used by God for His Kingdom work?

The caffeinated time with God is over, and it is on.

So much to do.

On the way out the door she grabs an extra sandwich and that sweater she found for Angela. Angela is going through a rough time at home and came to school without a sweater or lunch twice last week.

When she gets to school, there is a substitute in the room next door, so she sticks her head in and helps her find what she needs to do her job today.

The bell rings.

Fifth graders fill the hallway—some loud, some sullen, some excited, some just going through the motions. She notices the attitude of each student as she greets them with a smile, even the ones who, for whatever reason, really wish they were in the more popular teacher’s class today. She realizes that thought was from the enemy and shakes it off.

Some of today’s lessons go well, and some fall short. She makes a mental note of each student’s understanding and how to improve it tomorrow. New ideas and tried-and-true techniques mingle in her mind while she notices student interactions and heads off issues before they surface.

She dries tears, fixes wardrobe malfunctions, redirects the mean-girl group before they can go on the attack, and attends ARD meetings for her students with special needs. She also finds a moment to discreetly give Angela the sweater and sandwich.

Then she remembers—Tuesday means lunch duty. Sigh.

She helps open Capri Sun boxes, locates a missing lunch ticket, and strikes up a conversation with Sam, the lonely new boy. She quietly nudges one of her kindest students to include him.

The bell rings, and the afternoon continues.

It rings again. The class day is done. Next is bus duty. She smiles and waves at impatient parents in the long line of cars, stopping to tell Jesse’s mom what a great friend he was to the new boy today.

Finally, the workday is over. Blessed peace. She checks on the substitute again and thanks her for helping a coworker on baby leave.

Time to gather her things, stop at the store, and head home. She remembers she needs to cook extra tonight so she can send a meal to her sick mother-in-law. And she needs to check the spare bedroom—family is passing through tomorrow and will need a place to stay.

Dinner is finished. Dishes are done. She grades a few papers in front of the TV, puts them in her bag for tomorrow, and falls into bed for a well-deserved night’s sleep.

⸻

The alarm rings. It is Wednesday morning.

She drags herself into the kitchen for a cup of “awake.”

She is tired. But she finds her way to that familiar spot of refuge with the steaming cup, Bible, and journal.

As she prays, she asks God to forgive her for the lack of enthusiasm and the failure to remember His Word beyond a brief minute. She talks to God about Angela and Sam. She asks again why He didn’t send her to be a missionary—or at least let her teach in a Christian school where she could share Bible stories and quote Scripture.

She wonders, When will I actually be used by God for His Kingdom work?

And somewhere between the prayer for Angela…

and the concern for Sam…

and the quiet obedience of showing up again…

the answer has already been given.

She is.

⸻

“You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”

—Matthew 5:13–14