It Ain’t A Rabbit

Rabbit

©2017 Bill Murphy

Pardon my misuse of the English language, but it really ain’t a rabbit that died on a cross and rose again on Easter morning – to save your soul and mine. It was a man, the Son of God. And He didn’t wear a crown of colored eggs and bleed pink dye. Nor did the people of Jerusalem people buy new clothes especially for the occasion and parade around the cross. Nope. He died practically alone.

So where did all the ducks, bunnies, eggs and fresh-off-the-shelf finery come from? Basically, from the same place as the jolly old man in the red suit who arrives in town in late December.

Now, now, you say. The eggs and elves, bunnies and reindeer are just harmless kiddie stuff. How dare we hide behind our babies? Easter Rabbits and Christmas Santas were NOT created by tiny tots, but by adults like us, wearing our big boy and girl clothes – while never considering what we were doing.

So what’s the big fuss you ask. Please refer to scripture, or try to see from Heaven’s viewpoint.

Only hours before Jesus was nailed to the cross, and 3 days before that first Easter, He officiated over what we refer to as The Last Supper. There he presented bread and wine to his disciples, saying, “Do this often, in remembrance of Me.” Bread and wine, not boiled eggs and gaily wrapped gifts.

Years ago you saw the acronym WWJD everywhere. What would Jesus do. I suggest a new one this holiday season, WWJT – what would Jesus think? I venture to believe that it saddens Him to be supplanted by a rabbit.

So what am I suggesting? Honesty – just simply honesty – honesty with ourselves, with our children, and especially with God.

Just before Jesus began His earthly ministry, He spent 40 days in the wilderness fasting and praying, preparing for His mission ahead. At the end of this lengthy fast, and while His body was at a low point, Satan came to Him… The devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, (to Jesus) “if you will bow down and worship me.” Matthew 8:9 NIV

Military leaders know that if you take out the top brass, you throw that army into chaos. Just as satan is our enemy, Jesus (our ‘Top Brass’) is satan’s number 1 target. Satan lost that round in the wilderness, but he’s still in there fighting. What he can’t accomplish with fear and terror – he has unbelievable success in detracting us from our Lord and Savior!

Go ahead and dye and hunt eggs! That would only ADD to a 4th of July celebration. But do we realize how much it SUBTRACTS from the Easter celebration of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?

Here’s a test: On YOUR next birthday, tell everyone to bring gifts to each other – and NONE to you! Have them sing “Happy Birthday” to one another, and not to you. And let them enjoy the cake and ice cream while you sit with an empty plate. If it’s good for the goose (Jesus) it’s good for the gander (you!) WWJT.

I wonder if instead of bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to baby Jesus, the wise men would have instead PLANTED TREES in His honor. We’d probably not have room today for houses and highways – in heavily wooded America!

You get my point.

This year, please make JESUS THE FOCUS OF IT ALL!

 

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An Old Man

Arm 1

©2017 Bill Murphy

As Sgt. Joe Friday said on Dragnet, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

And the facts are that Ole Bill has ‘suddenly’ become Old Bill.

My birth certificate and today’s calendar hanging on or frig verify that I’m chronologically 76 years plus a few weeks old. The clock on the wall downstairs appears to agree with this much earlier each night, as does the radio/alarm beside the bed each morning. They’re conspiring against me.

No – ‘against me’ is far from the correct term! The alternative would be, well, you know.

Two things happened within the past 12 hours to bring me to the staggering conclusion that I’m aging. And both shed some fresh light as to why.

Last night was reclined of the sofa downstairs watching The Voice with Carol. I happened to raise my right arm and noticed how ‘loose’ the skin had become, especially on the inner area near the elbow. It was as loose and wrinkled as I remember my grandfather’s arms had been.

Then it hit me – I AM a grandfather. Correction: I am a GREAT-grandfather. Ergo: I have grand-father, great-grand-father skin. When did this happen?

Then this morning Carol was enjoying her usual early morning phone chat with her sister Mary Ellen. Carol was relaying her unusual dream of last night, and how vivid and detailed it was. That got the two sister’s talking about dreams.

I interjected that I dream EVERY NIGHT – and that most of those dreams are busy, active, work-filled dreams of past high-pressure jobs and projects – like ad deadlines at Jitney Jungle and whole notebooks of things to do for Lanny Wolfe’s Music Ministry Conferences. Mary Ellen then replied that I was actually LIVING TWO LIVES, one by day, the other by night!

So THAT too explains my aging process, and the visual effects thereof. I’m not 76 – I’m 76 x 2. I’m actually 152! No wonder I’m looking and acting old.

I feel much better about it now, for in truth, I’m not doing bad at all for a man of 152!

 

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