Why Won't Everyone Go to Heaven?

It's really not that complicated.

It seems there's always been a misconception about heaven:  if I'm a good person and God is a good god, then of course I'm going to heaven!  I've heard this from family members, acquaintances, strangers, Hollywood, books, and the media.  What I find most fascinating is that I've even heard it mentioned in one form or another at funerals for people who didn't really believe in an afterlife.  How in the world does one gain access to heaven without believing there's a heaven to go to?  But that's not a question for today.

Today I want to give you a really easy understanding as to why not everyone will enter heaven.  It's so simple, even elementary children can follow the logic.

Picture your neighborhood.  All the houses on all the streets, from the front of the neighborhood to the back.  Most of us know a few neighbors.  We might even be friends with a few.  How many houses in your neighborhood can you just walk into?  I don't mean knocking and hearing "come in."  I mean uninvited or unannounced.  In all the houses I've ever lived in, I cannot think of one house in my neighborhoods that I could just go to and walk in at any time of day, for any reason.

Now, is there someone's home that you can walk into without calling ahead or knocking?  My son
still has a key and a garage door opener despite living several states away.  If he wanted to surprise us, he could.  I no longer live in the same town as my mom, but when I did, I could drive to her home and walk in as if I lived there.

What's the difference between these two situations?

Relationship.

The ability to walk into a home not only requires relationship, it requires a level of intimacy.  The person living there must know you.  And you must know them.  There's more than just a casual connection.  There's more between you than just a common neighborhood.  It's a bond built on history together.  And whether you're related by dna, marriage, or decades of friendship, you're family.

That is how heaven works.  You cannot walk into God's home unless you have a relationship with Him through His Son, Jesus.  You cannot enter into His home unless you are family as His child by accepting Christ as your Savior.  Just as I would never allow a stranger to just casually walk into my living room to sit with my children, God does not allow just anyone to walk into His presence.  It doesn't matter if the person is nice, attractive, wealthy, famous, or generous; no stranger is coming into my home uninvited.

Yet many think that they good works they do will be the key that opens the pearly gates.  They're counting on their list of positive deeds to outweigh their list of negative behaviors.  Unfortunately, there are not enough good works to erase all the negative stuff we do throughout our lives.  That is why Jesus was sent - to take our place and do the one "good deed" we need to wipe out the list of all our evil deeds.  Because He left His home, we have the opportunity to join Him in it.

1 Corinthians 6:9 says, "Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit [enter] the kingdom of God [heaven]?"  There has to be a way to make us righteous - morally right and justified in the eyes of a Holy God.

Ephesians 2:8-9 clarifies that "by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is a gift of God not a result of works, so that no one may boast."  So we need to be made righteous in the eyes of God, but works doesn't' do it.  So what does?

In John 14:6, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through Me."  Only through Jesus can we be made righteous!  Only through Jesus is heaven opened to us.  Only He is the key to salvation and an eternity with Him.  The alternative is an eternity without Him.

There is no house you can enter uninvited anywhere in the world without having a relationship with the person inside.  How much more must God protect His home?  But He has made a way for each of us if we will only accept it.






For more analogies like this, see The Poop in the Brownies Part 1 and Part 2.

When I'm Tired of Forgiving "Seventy Times Seven"

And it keeps happening....

When you're a writer, you tend to write about your own life.  But when you make your writing public, you often have to think through the consequences of discussing particular aspects and situations (and people) in your life.  I try very hard to only share when the circumstances involve a lesson or something beneficial.  I share because I want you, the reader, to see how God is working in my life; and I hope that you can glean something positive and useful for your own life by peeking into mine for a few moments.

That said, I in no way have it all together.  The joke in our house is that we could easily be an episode or two of Jerry Springer.  There's a lot of material here for me to draw from.  Many times I've wished it were different.  But God always brings me to a place of growth and healing and a more mature understanding of why He allows me to walk the road I'm on.

There is a person in my life who I have tried to be closer to.  Through her own choices, that hasn't happened. Over the years, her words and actions have required me to forgive much.  Always without receiving an apology.  Every time it's a process:  my initial emotional response, the verbal response my flesh wants to have, the tears, the prayers, and the conscious decision to forgive.  Sometimes it's quick; other times it takes me a while to genuinely forgive her.  The point is, there are years of history of this pattern and there's no sign of it changing.

Recently there was another incident opportunity for me to practice this "unapologetic forgiveness" dynamic.  Without getting into too many personal details, I was very upset about a situation she became more involved in than she was invited to be.  Not only was I aware of all the background information, I had to be an audience member to her participation.  I was given about ten days notice before the event took place.  I was thankful for that because I had a lot of emotions and fleshly responses to work through before then.

We travelled to the Gulf Coast for the special occasion.  We were fortunate enough to stay at a hotel on the beach.  The day before the event, I felt I had pretty much worked through my anger and forgiven her.  However, I would be in her presence the next day, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.  I didn't want to be fake around her.  I truly wanted to be genuine and loving toward her.  So that was preoccupying my thoughts as I decided to take a run on the shore.

A sweet friend from home texted me on my way out.  She reminded me of grace - getting what you don't deserve.  I needed to show this woman grace despite how she was behaving (and believe me, it's never occurred to her that she's done anything wrong over the years).  But I kept remembering that she is an unbeliever, acting out of her own flesh in her state of being lost and separated from God.

So here I was, mulling over grace, listening to my music as I jogged in the sand (which is hard, by the way!)  Why is it easier to give grace to strangers?  I think it's because we see the ugliness of people close to us more often and it's much more personal.  It's hard to keep seeing it and there's no change in them.  So we offer more grace.  More grace.  Mercy.  Grace.  It's exhausting! And then my thoughts went to Jesus:  Does He get exhausted with me when I'm not getting it?  Before I got it???  Yet He keeps loving me.  KEEPS loving me!  Because He wants me in His family!  But sometimes my family doesn't get it and I'm ready to wash my hands!  God forgive me!

As I'm pondering these things, I realize that the songs on my playlist are discussing grace.  Grace! And then a song comes on about the waves washing over you, the tides bringing you grace, as I'm running along the waterline of the tide going out and the waves coming in.  Can I tell you how humbling that was?  I sat on the sand and just let the tears fall. 

I'm not sure how long I sat there, watching the waves hit the sand.  But I felt the Lord The waves rolling in weren't big.  Just small crests keeping the sand pristine.  Beyond them, the water was calm.  As far as my eye could see, it was a completely smooth surface.  It occurred to me that this situation giving my heart such grief was not a storm.  It wasn't even a bump.  It was just a part of normal life, rolling in and out, ebbing and flowing as a part of the natural tide of things.  I realized that so many others are going through real storms right now and here I was stressing over something much more trivial.  While it did hurt my heart, I was handling with selfishness and pride.  And in that moment, I prayed.  I asked for forgiveness for myself and the way I'd been handling things.  And I forgave her.  Again.  For this situation, as I had all the others before it.  Because that's what I am called to do, just as God has done for me.

So I left my anger and hurt and selfishness right there in the sand.  I watched as God used His waves to wipe it all clean from the sand and from my heart.  And I finished my time on the beach ready to face tomorrow.

When tomorrow arrived, I was genuinely ready to face the day.  I sat in the audience, I videoed the ceremony, I clapped, I smiled, and I meant every bit of it.  Could I have faked it?  Maybe.  Would those closest to me known I was upset?  Probably.  But having it resolved was so much better for me, as well as those around me. 

I have no unrealistic expectations that this will be the last time she lets me down.  Her track record speaks for itself.  But so does the Lord's - He has been faithful each and every time to shower me with love and strength and wisdom.  And grace.  It is only through Him that I am able to continue to forgive that which is never apologized for.  But because I've been forgiven so much more, I am humbled and compelled to extend the same to her.  It is with that grace that I pray she comes to know Jesus as her Lord and Savior someday.  And if I am the only person who shows her Jesus, then I am obligated to do it to the best of my ability, whether my flesh wants to or not. 

This isn't a storm.  It's eternity.