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The Righteousness of God

Packages (Part 6)

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Dear reader, Packages is an allegory. There will be roughly a dozen parts before Bobby wakes up from a very long, lifelike dream. He'll then seek an interpretation.

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I found myself on the packages again on Saturday, with no body of water in sight. I sat deep in a valley, surrounded by towering piles of boxes. The rising sun remained hidden from view; its presence only hinted at by the pastel hues of dawn. The location matched my mood.

The sobering events of the previous day made me cringe as they seeped into my groggy consciousness. As troubling as the work situation was, I was more concerned about not being reconciled with Jill. Over the years, we’d learned to navigate through difficulties, particularly when one could sense the other’s reaction stemmed from unresolved past hurts. Together, with faith in God, we’d learned to reveal and dismantle the longstanding falsehoods that had troubled our lives. It was rare for us to sleep without settling our differences and kissing. The previous night was particularly challenging because we both reacted from deep-seated pain and failed to extend grace before the day’s end. I knew it was my responsibility to lead in that regard, but I hadn’t.

I recalled His words that the packages were brimming with kindness, grace, and love—qualities I desperately needed to embrace the day ahead. Accepting His grace proved particularly challenging. Especially in light of how I’d failed to lead Jill and, with my growing unforgiveness and bitterness with Mike.

Even so, I was certain nothing could separate me from God’s love, not even my own shame.

I contemplated the Hebrew word “Hesed,” which translates to lovingkindness.

And Psalm 23 verse 6: Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

I recalled that this word embodies a divine love which transcends human understanding; like how God pursues us, in spite of our disobedience. Like how Hosea pursued Gomer, his harlot wife. [1]

Immersed in a deep awareness of His lovingkindness, my heart grew tender. I longed to embrace Jill and admit my mistake. We never do well when we’re not right with each other. 

“There’s something else in these boxes,” He said, again catching me off guard. “You’re absorbing more than just kindness, grace and love.”

“Read II Corinthians 5:21.”

I picked up the Bible resting on the box in front of me and read, He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

“Can you guess what else you’ve been soaking in?” He asked.

“The righteousness of Christ Jesus?”

“Very good. Can that righteousness be diminished by anything you do or don’t do?” 

I paused a moment before answering. A new understanding was budding in my heart. “No. Since You chose me, by Your mercy, to be Your son before I was even born, nothing I do or don’t do can affect it. Right?”

 “That’s right,” He said. “My children know this, but our enemy is relentless in seeking to hide My grace and love. His efforts are multiplied as his end draws near. Bobby, sometimes you still soak in his lies and not My truth”

“What did Paul say about righteousness in Ephesians 6?”

“He told us to put on the breastplate of righteousness, as we gird our loins with truth and take up the shield of faith.” I felt faith rising and continued. “This allows us to extinguish all the flaming missiles of the evil one. All of them!”

“Never drop your shield of faith. Believe you have My righteousness. No matter what happens, stay the course.”

Having rekindled my faith, He left me to my reflections. The shame I felt now appeared absurd. I knew my life was meant to be rooted in His righteousness, not my own. I realized that whenever I lost focus on this truth, I was on shacky ground and very vulnerable.

Unbeknownst to me, I was no longer in a valley; the mound of packages I rested on had ascended beyond the horizon. I was now in full view of a crystal blue sea, which reflected the magnificence of the eternal dawn.

Jill and I were able to have a cup of coffee together before I went to the office. I apologized for acting out of my fear of failure and need to succeed. I also told her I was sorry for not initiating forgiveness the night before. 

“I forgive you on both counts,” she said, as we hugged. “I’m not sure I was ready to be resolved last night anyway. I was stewing in my own feelings of rejection. But I recognized this morning that these lies are ancient. I’m sorry too. God has used you to help me see the lies from the past I still tend to live in.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “Us honoring our covenant of marriage before God has been what’s held us together and allowed our love to grow. We’ve had some very hard stretches.”

She agreed.

As I entered the office, I heard, “Ask Me.”

I found Kevin at his desk, his head in his hands, same shirt on from the day before. “The batches of data are two large,” he said in a defeated tone when he noticed me. “I tried dividing them into smaller datasets, but they lose the associated header, footer and provider tags. I’m out of ideas.”

I’d never seen Kevin in such a state. His perseverance and determination were remarkable, but he was clearly at the end of his rope.

Remembering His message, I asked Him for guidance. Then I ran through different possibilities in my mind.

“I have an idea,” I said after a few minutes. “I think I can use Easytrieve, a mainframe programming tool, to generate smaller datasets while preserving the tags. This would mean we’d be handling smaller batches during the data transfer and the script processing.”

Kevin thought it was a good idea and assisted me in mapping the fields. In forty-five minutes, we’d successfully written a quick program and validated the theory with a batch of data which had previously abended. 

“Eureka!” Kevin exclaimed. We did a computer nerd version of a high five.

 We kicked off a batch of scripts, which we hoped would process all the data by early Sunday afternoon. He showed me how to check for problems in his script and how to monitor the progress remotely.

I sent him home to rest and made sure the first few batches were successful.

When I got home, Jill was wrapping Alice’s surprise birthday gift.

The plan was for us to distract Alice in the backyard while friends and family streamed into her house to surprise her. 

“I can hide her present in the bottom of my purse,” Jill exclaimed. 

“I knew that giant bag would come in handy for something,” I joked, earning me a playful elbow to the ribs.

I was so excited about our gift to Alice. Knowing his days on earth were winding down, her husband, Ray, had asked me to video a message to his family. Jill and I downloaded it to an electronic picture frame, which was our present to Alice and their kids. 

Right before we knocked on the back door, my phone vibrated with a text. Jill heard it too and looked at me with disappointment.

“Is it work?” she exclaimed bitterly.

The extensive time and mental energy I devoted to work-related activities over the years had become a longstanding source of pain and feelings of neglect for Jill. I endeavored to understand my wife better, continually learning more about her. I was beginning to realize that some of her reactions stemmed from deep-seated pain, some of which originated in her childhood and was triggered by something I did, said, or failed to do. While I acknowledge that I have also caused her pain, I was learning not to take it personally all the time. This approach helped me to remain non-defensive, at least some of the time. Which is hard for a guy like me who thrives to succeed and please people.

“No, it’s Sammy,” I replied, also happy it wasn’t work related. “He’s asking if he and his family can join us at our church tomorrow.”

“Wow! That would be great,” Jill exclaimed. “Alton as well?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, as I knocked on Alice’s back door. I heard, “Be bold.“

To Be Continued

[1] The book of Hosea

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

The Lord our Courage

Packages (Part 5)

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Dear reader, Some of you have asked where this Packages series is going. It's an allegory. There will be resolution and interpretation.

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

As I found myself resting on the packages the next morning, I wondered again if I was experiencing a long dream. If so, I hoped it would end soon. I had so many questions.

How did my time resting on these packages each morning seem to fuel my interaction with people that day.? How could cardboard boxes cause me to be filled with a quality of love which seemed out of this world? It had to be Him and not the packages.

Though I saw packages addressed to each person, I never remembered physically handing them to anyone. Was delivery really about the interaction and not the actual packages?

I did get my job back, but with conditions. I was put on probation and warned not to “push” my faith on anyone. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I didn’t trust Mike enough to ask him. 

I determined to still offer to pray with folks as the opportunity arose. And if asked, I would explain the reason for my hope to anyone. Resting on the packages, I felt certain of this. I hoped I’d stand firm when opportunities for boldness arose.  

I didn’t want to regret not allowing the light of Jesus to shine through me.

Then He spoke. This time, my anger at Fred’s cancer was not within me. Being with Sammy and Alton had given me a new perspective.

Reading my thoughts, He said, “You are learning my son. Like Sammy, like Fred, God sized problems are meant to prove you can’t. And when you see that, you learn that I can.

“What did Paul write in II Corinthians 1:8-9?”

I picked up the Bible resting on the box in front of me and read, “For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life; 9 indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves so that we would not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead;”

“What was Paul going through?” He asked.

“So many difficulties that he despaired of his life. I guess he’d come to the end of his strength.”

“Exactly, you’ve read in other places what he endured.  [1] So you have an idea of what it might have been. What was his conclusion?” 

“He realized since the situation was beyond his abilities to endure, trusting in himself was no longer an option. He had to learn to trust in You.”

“That’s right,” He said. “Can you relate?”

I could. Several situations came to mind, including our difficulties with our oldest child. I remember thinking once, when that and other problems seemed to multiple, that if I knew where to go to give up, I would. I wasn’t suicidal, but like Paul, I’d come to the end of me.

Again, reading my thoughts, He said, “You made a wise choice back then. You could have wasted the pain by trying to numb it, but you brought it all to Me.” 

It was Friday.  The end of a very weird week. I was hoping Mike had assigned someone to handle my duties. Otherwise, it was going to be a long weekend. I imagined Kevin would have been given some of my tasks, but he had his own work to do.

Kevin looked up from his cubicle when I arrived and followed me into my office. 

I heard, “Be courageous.”

After discussing the current work load, Kevin said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said on Monday. I really appreciated you trusting me enough to tell me about the times of despair you’ve experienced. You alluded to a deep hope which lifted you from your discouragement. As I’ve told you before, I’m not a religious person, but I respect your opinion and would love to hear more. The situation with Clarissa has me pretty down.”

I had no idea I’d be tested about being bold with my faith so quickly. I told him I’d love to tell him what happened and the reason for my hope. We agreed to have lunch on Monday.

When Kevin walked out of my office, Mike came in. I wondered if he’d been outside listening. I heard, “Keep your peace.” 

Mike said nothing about my being with Kevin. He seemed to be only interested in work. We’d gotten a new client, so work had gotten dangerously backlogged. He was getting pressure from the top to get caught up or risk breaking contracted deliverables with our customers. He told me he expected us to be caught up by Monday morning. When he said “us” I grumbled in my spirit about what part of “us” he was doing. 

When Mike left, I could feel my stomach begin to twist.

During the next couple of hours, I was able to get a handle on how much work had to be done. It was massive. I could see myself missing my Friday date night with Jill and Alice’s surprise party on Saturday. I’d invited Fred and his wife to church with us, seems I’d miss that too. 

I heard a knock. It was Kevin. I glanced at my watch and was astonished it was already time for break. I’d always told Kevin it was important to take breaks, but this time I wanted to renege. 

In the canteen, I explained my conversation with Mike to Kevin. He already knew some of it. “Mike came to me on Wednesday and tried to hand off a ton of work to me. I think they hoped I’d be able to pick right up and handle it,” Kevin began. “I got started but have questions and needed your help. So, I reported that back to Mike. In the meantime, I’ve been playing around with a Visual Basic script we could possibly use to scrape the data from the mainframe and then kick off our processes. I’ve had some success, but need some procedural direction.”

After hearing Mike’s interaction with Kevin, I felt more like I was being used. I certainly didn’t feel like anyone in management really cared. Were they allowing me to work just to solve the present crisis? I felt insecure.

For the rest of the day I feed Kevin information to further fine tune his script. By days end, we had it working on a small sample. However, when we tried it on a batch of larger data, we kept getting region abends. Even after we maxed out the value, there was no success. I was getting a sinking feeling.

When I noticed it was approaching 6pm, and said, “Let me call Jill and cancel our date.”

Kevin stopped me. He had some ideas he wanted to try. He couldn’t get over the fact that we still dated after over forty years of marriage and he didn’t want us to miss it. We agree to reconvene in the morning.

When I pulled into our driveway to pick Jill up, I heard. “Cast your cares on Me.” They were fine words, but my heart couldn’t receive them.

Jill and I had a nice Italian dinner at one of our favorite spots. Then we walked across the dam at sunset, one of our favorite things to do. I tried to stay present, but she could tell I was preoccupied. I resisted the temptation to check on how Kevin was doing, but my lack of truly being “with” Jill hurt her. This resurfaced some unresolved bitterness toward me.

Then, her disappointment in me stirred up a deep failure place in my soul and I became defensive. Not a good posture for a loving date.

To top it off, I got a late text from Kevin saying he was going home with little success. He suspected a memory leak, but he needed some time away to ponder a solution.

Without Kevin’s script, I could work the next 48 hours and come well short of what Mike and his directors were expecting. 

Jill and I went to bed back to back and unresolved. The knots in my stomach were only growing tighter as I tried to sleep.

To Be Continued

[1] II Corinthians 11:23-33

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

What is Good?

Packages (Part 4)

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Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Like the previous morning, the bright blue expanse of water appeared in the distance, yet this time it seemed nearer. The dawn’s warmth and splendor persisted in an unnatural way as I tried to shepherd my heart.

I was emotionally perplexed. A few years back, I’d learned that suppressing difficult emotions and proceeding as if nothing had occurred—akin to the adage “just rub some dirt on it and keep playing”—was not beneficial. This stoic posture had done nothing for me but deaden my emotions and stifle my tears when I really needed to grieve, such as after the death of my parents. 

This morning the problem was trying to sort through all I was feeling.  I felt accused by Harrison, betrayed by Mike, and grieved about Fred’s cancer diagnosis. Additionally, I was worried about the upcoming meeting with Mike and its potential impact on my job, especially since our savings was not substantial.

As had been the case each morning, as I rested on the packages, I reflected on a section of Scripture. This morning it was Psalm 42. The psalmist wrote that his soul was in despair and disturbed within, or, in another translation, sad and discouraged.  [1]

This captured my emotions: sadness and discouragement.

After a bit of time, I heard, “I’m here.” 

Instinctively, I yelled, “Why? Why Fred? How can his cancer be considered good in any way?” I guess I was also angry.

A silence followed, then a question, “What do you mean by good?”

Caught off guard, I had no answer. 

I had arranged to have lunch with Jill around noon but had some time to spare until then. So, I decided to give Sammy a call.

“Hello,” Sammy answered. 

“Sammy, It’s Bobby. How’s your car running. Any more leaks?”

“Mr. Bobby. I was going to call you today.”

“Please, just call me Bobby.”

“I’ll try, but it’s a hard habit to break. The car’s running smoothly. In fact, Milly made some fried chicken, collards, and macaroni and cheese for you and your wife in appreciation for all your help.”

“She didn’t have to do that,” I replied. “Just being with you helped me more than you know, but certainly I won’t turn down a meal from her. You told me what a great cook she is. Do you want me to come by and get it?”

“Smart man,” Sammy chuckled. “It won’t be ready until around noon. Would you and your wife like to join us for a meal then?”

“That would be great,” I responded. “Jill doesn’t get off for lunch until then. Would it be alright if I came over now, and she could join us at your place later?”

Sammy was thrilled at the idea. I called Jill and gave her the address and she agreed to meet me there.

The prospect of seeing Sammy again brought joy to my heart. En route, I noticed a package beside me addressed to Sammy, Milly and Alton. I wasn’t sure who Alton was, but I heard, “Allow them to serve you and learn from them.” Strange delivery instructions indeed. 

Sammy and Milly resided on a quaint family farm located on the town’s west side, a short drive from Jill’s office. The property boasted a single-story house, a barn, and a pond. As I pulled up, Sammy was waiting by his truck. The sincere smile that spread across his face when he saw me comforted my weary soul.

The smell of country cooking wafting from the house as Sammy showed me around. He nimbly maneuvered on his artificial leg, as he showed me chickens, pigs, goats, a nice sized vegetable garden, and a small grove of peach trees.

“Are the chickens just for eggs?” I asked.

“No, we eat them too,” he smiled, nodding toward the house.

Wandering the farm with Sammy, my thoughts were flooded with childhood memories. Growing up near my grandfather on his small farm, I was whisked back to simpler times, before life’s hardships had dimmed the light of youthful joy.

Jill drove up just as Milly popped her head out of the front door and called us in for lunch.

The meal was exceptional: the chicken was perfectly crunchy, the macaroni delightfully cheesy, and the collards were richly savory. Our feast included buttery cornbread, lemony sweet tea, and homemade peach cobbler for dessert, crafted from their own harvest.

The joy they both exhibited was remarkable, despite facing persecution and discrimination due to their skin color. Being with them filled our hearts with gladness. I wished we could have stayed longer, but knew we had to leave soon.

Standing up, I asked, “Sammy mentioned your large family the other day, does anyone else live with you?”

“Yes,” Milly responded. “Our grandson Alton stays with us. His mother passed away at his birth.”

“We almost lost him too,” Sammy chimed in. “Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes, I would,” I replied.  

“Come on,” Sammy motioned for us to follow him. 

In a room at the end of the hall, a middle-aged man was seated in a rocking chair, gazing through the window at the weeping willow tree beside the pond. Under it, a pig and a goat appeared to be playing chase.

“Hey bud,” Sammy said.  “I want you to meet some new friends of ours.”

Alton turned to us and smiled. During our brief time with him, we saw a man whose entire life was enveloped in love and joy, embodying the essence of childlike faith.

Later, Sammy conveyed that the umbilical cord had restricted oxygen to his brain at birth. He was unable to communicate verbally. However, it was undeniable how deeply he loved his grandparents; and us.

“Alton is a constant source of joy,” Sammy told me as I got in my car. Brushing away a tear, he said, “He embodies love and grace. People often pity us because they think Alton is a burden. It’s been a tough journey. We think about his mother daily. Yet, we believe our loving Father entrusted Alton to us for our good. Our time with Alton has strengthened our faith in Jesus Christ in ways we never thought possible. What we can’t do, God can.

I almost shouted, “Amen!”  Probably should have.

I was strangely peaceful, as I drove to meet Mike. What Sammy said about life with Alton being “good,” brought me back to what He’d asked me that morning. “What do you mean by good?”

I now had at least a partial answer. 

Entering Mike’s office, I noticed a document at the corner of his desk that read, “Probation”.

 And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. 29 For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren (Romans 8:28-29 NASB)

To Be Continued

[1] Psalm 42:5 (NASB, NLT)

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

Grace

Packages (Part 3)

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Part 1 

Part 2

The following morning, it took considerably longer for me to hear Him. Honestly, it felt as though I’d been resting on the packages for hours. As before, they stretched out beyond my vision. In the distance, I could make out a lake or sea. I wondered if I was in a different location or if it was there all along and I hadn’t noticed it. The vibrant hues of dawn appeared to persist longer than usual.

The previous night, Jill had asked, “How will we pay our bills?” 

I had no good answer for that, other than going into our savings. Because I was being calm, she wondered if I was in shock. 

Then I heard, “Worthy.” 

“Sir?”

“In this place there is grace, along with the kindness you learned about yesterday. And there’s so much more. Rest awhile longer. Another adventure awaits you.”

As I rested, I thought about being marinated in kindness and grace.

Having the day off, I enjoyed spending extra time with Jill before she left for work. Concerning her morning package, I heard “Explain why your meeting with Sammy made such an impression on you.”

There was no need to push the agenda. As I sat down at the breakfast table, Jill asked, “What made your encounter with the disabled veteran so impactful? You talked more about that than how you’ve been wrongly accused and suspended without pay.”

I was still grappling with the question myself, but as I began to speak, I hoped an answer would emerge. “What transpired at work troubled me deeply, I had to be alone. After getting my coffee, I saw Sammy as I was headed to the park. I felt directed to try and help him.

“While I was with him, the work problems fell off my radar, especially because he was so appreciative. As I got to know him, love and joy overshadowed my feelings of being falsely accused and rejected. Does that make any sense?”

Jill nodded, absorbing everything. “Listen,” she said after a pause, “I can pick up some extra hours at work until we sort this out. Meanwhile, you can treat today like a snow day without the snow—an unexpected, unplanned day off.”

I smiled. That sounded great. 

I had a lunch meeting scheduled with my friend Fred. Meanwhile, I brewed some coffee and savored the sights and sounds of a cool spring morning on our deck.

After some time, I heard the sound of gentle weeping. It was coming from next door where Alice lived. She is an elderly woman whose husband, Ray, passed away just a few months ago. They’d become like family to us.

I walked around to the front and saw her rocking gently, hands over her face.

“What’s wrong Alice?”

As she caught sight of me, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down her face. I sat down beside her, and heard, “Listen. Offer grace.” 

“I feel so alone,” she gasped, wiping away her tears. “This is my first birthday without Ray, and our children forgot about it; they didn’t even call.”

One of her children had called me about a surprise birthday party they were throwing for her on Saturday, which, to my understanding, was her birthday.

“Isn’t your birthday Saturday? I asked.

“It was yesterday,” she replied sadly.

I knew enough of Alice’s growing dementia not to try and set her straight. I figured she’d enjoy the surprise all the more on Saturday.

“I feel rejected, and unloved,” she continued. “Worthless.”

Worthless! The opposite of the word worthy I heard while I was resting on the packages earlier.

“What makes you feel worthless?” I asked.

“If the closest people in your life reject you, doesn’t that make you worthless?”

“If you measure your worth by who people say you are, then I see what you mean,” I replied. “You love your kids. And I know they love you too. You’ll understand what I mean soon enough. But how people treat us doesn’t determine our value. If it did, we’d all be worthless. Sooner or later, people we love break our hearts.” 

As I talked, I thought about how our oldest child had disowned us years ago.

“However, if our worth is based on what God thinks of us, through His Son Jesus Christ, we are never worthless,” I continued. I was surprised at my words. I needed to hear them as much or more than she did.

We went on to talk about the grace that saves our souls when we stop trying to “save” ourselves. 

Alice became more and more in touch with what I was saying as we talked. She’s a church goer, but I got the impression she didn’t really understand salvation in Christ alone, apart from our works. 

Eventually, she realized her birthday was Saturday and we had a good laugh. 

As I drove to meet Fred for lunch, the word ‘worthless’ lingered in my mind. I had often sought validation from the world as well. It struck me how fragile a foundation it is to base one’s identity on the opinions of others, on achievements, or on striving to be righteous in our own strength.

Fred was already seated when I walked into Bill and Fran’s restaurant. “Hey bud,” he greeted me, as I took my place in the booth next to him. Fred was the only person I had journeyed with from kindergarten all the way through college. 

About halfway through our meal, after we’d caught up on our families and activities, I noticed his package beside me. Then I heard, “Trust me.” I’d find out later this was more for my benefit than Fred’s.

“I have pancreatic cancer,” Fred said. 

Seeing the shock on my face, he paused before continuing. “I don’t have long Bobby.”  

Fred went on to explain that the tumor had grown before they found it. He’d been given months to live, even with treatment.

I was in total shock and couldn’t get Fred and his family out of my mind as I drove home. Why Fred? I felt confused and angry.

As I pulled into the driveway, my phone vibrated with a text message. It was from Mike, my boss, requesting to meet me the following day at two o’clock.

“He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, 6 to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. 7 In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace 8 which He lavished on us (Ephesians 1:5-8a NASB).

To Be Continued

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

Kindness

Packages (Part 2)

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Part 1 (Slightly updated since posted)

I found myself seated among the packages again at dawn the next day. Was this part of a long dream? It felt so real. And what were these packages anyway?

Trying to rest was challenging. I was worried. I felt sure the upcoming meeting with the vice president was connected to Harrison.

Then I remembered what He had said before my lunch: “Avoid defensiveness and remain true to your identity.”

I had avoided defensiveness. This was hard, especially since I knew Harrison’s accusations were wrong. I had to suppress the impulse to proclaim my innocence. It was a sudden surge of control I doubted I could repeat. Knowing He was with me made all the difference—it was as if He provided the strength.

What identity was He referring to?

“The identity you experience while you’re here,” the voice said.

As before, the voice caught me by surprise. Had I said that out loud?

“Sir?” 

“These boxes you’re resting on. Any idea what they are?”

“Not sure. I’ve never seen one opened.”

“There’s no need to open the package to understand them; it’s all about the delivery.”

Thinking of the deliveries, I said, “They all seem to be delivered with some aspect of kindness, per your instruction.”

“You’re beginning to understand,” He said. “Kindness is certainly a part of it. Imagine if, during these eternal moments before your day begins, you’re resting on boxes of kindness. How might that influence your sense of personal value?”

“If each one of these boxes contained kindness from another,” I responded, as I waved my arm across the sea of brown. “And I lay among them for even a few minutes every day, it seems like the kindness would soak into me.”

“Even enough to counteract what happened with Harrison?”

I nodded, finally understanding what he meant.

Subsequently, I found myself walking across the parking lot at work. In the elevator, I punched the 10th floor and asked for package delivery instructions for my boss, Mike, and for John.

“Maintain high integrity,” I was instructed. “Answer each question truthfully, with composure and no defensiveness. John doesn’t know you and has associated you with others he thinks you’re like. Do your part. The impact will not be instantly noticeable.”

As I entered the conference room, Mike and John, already in conversation, ceased talking abruptly. I noticed an Anti-Discrimination Policies document on the table.

“We’re facing a lawsuit,” John began as I sat down. “Harrison, a former employee of yours, is alleging you discriminated against him based on his religious beliefs. He says you overlooked him for a promotion because you disapproved of his religious beliefs.”

I glanced at Mike, anticipating he would inform John that it was his decision not to promote Harrison. But he remained focused on John with no comment.

“Did you ever discuss religion with him?” John asked sternly.

Before responding, I noticed Mike and John’s packages on the seat next to me.

“A few months before his resignation, Harrison asked to meet with me. He disclosed that he and his wife were having marriage problems, mainly because of finances. He told me he’d applied for the new position. He was looking for my assurance he’d get the promotion. Naturally, I wasn’t able to provide such a guarantee, even if the decision had been mine to make.

“He also shared some medical challenges his son was facing, so I offered to pray for his family. He accepted my invitation and seemed appreciative. So, I prayed with him.”

“So, you never asked Harrison anything about his religion?” John asked.

“No, sir.”

“I’m afraid your account conflicts with what Harrison’s attorney has claimed,” John said. “Seems you’re not one to hesitate in expressing your religious beliefs.”

“Only when asked,” I interrupted, instantly regretting it.

“Our policy strictly prohibits any form of discrimination, including religious. We’re putting you on leave until we can sort this out. We’ll call you when we need you to come back in.”

Afterwards, I lingered in my car, uncertain of what to do next. How could I possibly break the news to Jill, my wife? I was shocked, angry, and felt betrayed by both Mike and Harrison. What had I ever done to them?

I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

I decided to grab a coffee and head to the park to be alone. As I pulled away from the shop, coffee in hand, I noticed an elderly gentleman wearing a Vietnam cap. He was stepping out of his old pickup truck near the exit to the main road, steam billowing from beneath the hood.

Glancing to my side, I noticed a package addressed to the Vietnam veteran. Strickly out of obligation, I grabbed the package and headed toward him, feeling a bit frustrated. As I approached, I saw that he had no right leg.

“Tell him you appreciate his service and listen to what he has to say. He feels unappreciated and alone. Help him.”

The veteran seemed a bit timid as I walked up, unsure of what I might do. I introduced myself, thanked him for his service to our country, and asked if he needed any assistance.

“My name’s Sammy,” he revealed. “Folks like you typically ignore me. I appreciate the offer, but once the engine cools, I’ll add some water and be on my way.”

“How long has it been leaking?”

“A few months.”

“What if we fix it permanently?”

He agreed, looking stunned. We fetched pitchers of water from the coffee shop, and he followed me to my regular mechanic on the next street.

As his car was being worked on, I listened to his story. He’d survived the injustices of racial prejudices during the sixties, even getting arrested during a courthouse “sit-in.” In Vietnam, he’d lost his leg while saving his wounded buddy. Like most veterans of that war, he returned home to hostility, not honor. He and his wife, Milly, had four children (one of whom had passed away), eight grandchildren, and fifteen great-grandchildren.

When I paid his bill, he teared up. As we parted ways, we exchanged phone numbers.

Back home, Jill looked up from her desk and asked, “How was your day?”

I smiled. “A Vietnam vet turned my day completely around.”

“What do you mean?”

Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. 32 Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you (Ephesians 4:31-32 NLT)

To Be Continued

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains

 

As I Have Loved you

Packages (Part 1)

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Waking up, I found myself seated on a mountain of brown packages, stretching as far as I could see. Behind me, the first rays of sun were increasingly chasing away the greyness of the dawn.

An overwhelming feeling hit me. Was I supposed to deliver all these packages?  I’m not a delivery guy but, being busy and task-oriented, this was my first thought. 

After a moment, a deep, authoritative voice said, “Rest.” I turned, but no one was there.

I waited for more guidance, but that was it. How was I supposed to rest here? I leaned my head back against one of the boxes and closed my eyes. After a while, warmth and deep peace enveloped me.

I had no idea how long, but later, the voice returned. “Who will you see today?”

I had become quite relaxed. The sound, right in my ear, startled me. I felt like I was in one of those spy movies where people communicate through tiny earpieces.

After thinking for a moment, I replied, “I’ll be having breakfast with my son soon. Then, I have a work meeting with Kevin and lunch with Harrison. When I get home, my wife and I plan on walking in the neighborhood. So, no telling who we’ll see then.”

“During each of these planned encounters, along with those you’re not expecting, give them one of these packages.”

“How?” I exclaimed, trying not to sound disrespectful. “How will I carry them all? And how many should I take?”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming with you,” the voice assured me. “And I’ll give you the package for each person, at the time you need it.  If you have questions about the delivery and what you might say, just ask me. You can talk to me just like we’re doing now.”

I wasn’t sure how this was going to happen. However, the way this day was starting, I was expecting the unexpected.

Later, during breakfast, my son confided in me about the immense career stress he was experiencing. He had completely underestimated the challenges involved in launching a new division.

That’s when I decided to give him his package. Remarkably, I didn’t even need to ask for it. When I glanced down, there it was, right beside me, labeled with his name.

Before I picked it up, I heard, “Give him some examples of times you felt stressed at work and share an encouraging truth that helped you overcome it. And don’t forget to tell him you love him.”

Following the instructions, I shared my experiences with him. He was genuinely appreciative and even gave me a bear hug as we said goodbye.

Walking across the parking lot at work, I sought guidance for my delivery to Kevin. The voice instructed me: “Listen to him. He’s been through difficult times. While he respects you, he also finds you intriguingly different from others he’s encountered. Regardless of what he shares, avoid passing judgment. When he finishes speaking, offer a ray of hope and truth from your own experiences—not a solution.”

After Kevin shared, I told him of my own dark times and the hope which had lifted me. Although he didn’t say much when I was done, our eye contact conveyed his surprise and appreciation.

My lunch with Harrison ended up being far from enjoyable. I was surprised he wanted to meet with me in the first place, considering my unsuccessful attempts to reconnect. Driving to the restaurant I sought instructions and heard, “He harbors resentment toward you. He believes you’ve caused him pain. He’ll share the details. The offense has festered and taken on a life of its own. Humbly receive his words. Avoid defensiveness and remain true to your identity.”

Despite the coaching, I was unprepared for Harrison’s revelations. About a year ago, I had been his supervisor before he accepted a higher-paying position elsewhere.

As soon as we sat down with our food, he unloaded, “You’ve ruined my life. Why did you recommend Owens for that promotion over me? I was undoubtedly more qualified. The numbers supported my case, yet you overlooked me. I believed I was a shoo-in. I was depending on it. I confided in you and told you what was going on. But you decided to judge me for what I shared and rub it in my face by choosing someone else. Now my house is in foreclosure and my wife has left me.”

His anger and tone were shocking. People at adjacent tables kept glancing our way. His accusations were surprising to me, especially since I wasn’t even the one who chose Owens over him. If it wasn’t for the heads-up, I would’ve confronted him about the absurdity of his accusations. But I had a package to delivery.

I attempted to listen empathetically, asking only a few clarifying questions. Unfortunately, my calm demeanor seemed to only fuel his anger. 

“You’re so callous,” Harrison erupted. “You don’t even care about what you’ve done to me,” With those words, he stormed out, barely touching his salad.

Still rattled by Harrison’s anger directed at me, I headed home. During the drive, I inquired about the package delivery for my wife. I heard, “It’s really good you’re spending time together walking. It’s also beneficial that you’re both meeting your neighbors and engaging in conversations with them. It may seem simple, but just be fully present with her during your walk. Ask her about her day and share your own experiences, especially the encounter with Harrison. She appreciates being with you more than you realize, but it hurts her when you’re distracted.”

It was a crisp spring afternoon, as we turned right out of our driveway and headed toward the back of our neighborhood.

Taking the advice, I stayed engaged and dug deeper into her day than I normally do. I appreciated her interest in my experiences, and her questions helped me process.

Surprisingly, we encountered no neighbors this time, which was perfect. Not because I don’t like seeing them, but because I thoroughly enjoyed just being with her. The only thing that could have made it better was for us to be walking on the beach. And I told her so.

As soon as we turned into our driveway, I got a call from my boss. His tone was serious: “John wants to meet with you and me first thing tomorrow. He just got a call from the legal department. A former employee has made some serious allegations.”

So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. 35 Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples (John 13:34-35 NLT).

To be continued.

Please Check out the  Cola City Podcast . Discussions that impact the vision of reaching every man, woman, and child in a city.

Joy in the Journey is about the gladness of God’s nearness in the midst of life’s adventures.

Subscribe below to get email notifications of new posts. We post a few times a month. Thank you for reading. 

 

Robby Buck

Novels by the Author:

What happens when a professor figures out how to send messages to his younger self to try and avoid the suicide of his best friend? Did he change more than he bargained for?  Beyond Time

By finding two undelivered letters in a old shack deep in the woods, Cassie and Daniel unknowing set off a series of events which uncover a plot to wipe out a whole family Hope Remains