The Ups and Downs of Ladders

“And [Jacob] dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it” (Genesis 28:12 KJV).

My husband wanted to remedy a downside to using his ladder near windows, so he bought a stabilizer. He removed the metal contraption from its box, explaining how this arrangement would work. I heard words coming out of his mouth; I even sensed his enthusiasm. But I could better understand how a different kind of ladder works.

Some writing books mention the ladder of abstraction. At the bottom rung of this figurative ladder we find specific, concrete terms—my husband’s hammer, drill, and circular saw. On the top rung we find abstract concepts such as forgiveness, mercy, and grace; terms between the two extremes lie on those foggy middle rungs. I told my husband about this fascinating tool, waving my hand to show how writers move up and down this ladder. But he said that he had been so focused on my hand motions, that he forgot to pay attention to my words. Oh, well. At least we understand our own ladder.

Jacob also knew about a ladder. One commentator has written that the ladder in Jacob’s dream symbolizes Jesus, for He is the only way to heaven. If we place our trust in the Ladder that God provided, we will spend eternity with Him. And there are no downsides; we never need a stabilizer when our Ladder is Christ.

How to Heal a Broken Heart

A thoughtless thrust propelled your teacup heart

Off its cozy shelf. Man cannot fix what fell apart,

But the Potter can mix resin with gold,

And you must intertwine trust with time. … Those old

Seams will show and shine; they display the Potter’s purpose and touch.

The Mystery of Tomorrow

“Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away” (James 4:14 KJV).

“Close your eyes; I have a surprise.” I love those words. The surprise is usually something good, and the mystery of what it could be is as thrilling as the surprise itself. But recently my older daughter’s surprise left me feeling a bit hollow.

She held two pink roses in her hand. They were small, only partially open, barely past the bud stage. She planned to dry them because they looked so nice; I thought they would have looked much nicer in full bloom.

Another surprise came on a Tuesday morning. A friend asked if I would edit several manuscripts for her magazine; she needed to fly to the West Coast where some of her family lives. I was happy to help but sad that she had to go on this unexpected trip. The evening before, her 14-year-old brother had been swimming in the river behind their parents’ farm. He encountered deeper water than he could handle; he disappeared under its surface and drowned.

Later I learned that an acquaintance of mine also lost a brother at a young age. He had been on his way to fight a fire when he had an automobile accident; he died instantly. He was only 20.

Those two lives were so short. But even when someone lives for more than a century, that is still a short time compared to eternity. Tomorrow is a mystery; we have no guarantee that it will come. And even when it does, it is no longer called tomorrow. It is called today.

We have today—this moment. If we had met either of those young men the day before they died, we never would have guessed what the next day would bring. As with that pair of roses before my daughter picked them, we would have seen promise in those youth. We would have assumed that they would continue to bloom.

Life is short and tomorrow is a mystery. Thankfully, both of those young men had trusted in Christ’s sacrifice on the cross as payment for their sin. What if they had waited until tomorrow?

Grace, Like Rain

On desert days, I know my need;

I lift my hands up high.

God’s grace, like rain, pours down on me,

Revives me when I’m dry.

But every day I need His grace;

Like rain, it cleanses me.

Grace gave me life—sustains it still;

This gift of God is free.

God’s grace, like rain, produces fruit,

     And this is what I bring;

A token of my thanks and love,

 I offer to my King.