Heart Hope by Olga

Spotted at the Rec Center recently was a t-shirt that said, “There is no finish line.” As I completed my workout, I thought about the saying. It was my assumption that it meant that we are not ever to think we are finished because there is always another race or something to accomplish.  If that is what the wearer meant by it, I am completely on board, however, in life there is a finish line. It might be one that we don’t really want to face, but it is looming never-the-less. The final finish line for all of us in this life is ultimately death. No matter how hard we try to stay young, and fit and healthy, one day this body will turn back to dust.  The only hope we have beyond death is the certainty of eternal life, but that involves an either/or situation. It means eternal life with our Lord and Savior forever or it means that we are separated from Him for all eternity. The choice is yours. He invites us to be in His family. He has paid the price so that we can be with Hi...

My son-in-law’s grandmother died about this time last year. She had been sick for a time and had even expressed that she was ready for Jesus to take her home. Then she had a sudden turn for the worse and had to be air lifted to a hospital some distance from her home. While in the hospital, she was non-responsive for days, but at one particular time she seemed agitated and her daughters and a nurse on duty were trying to determine what might help calm her down when they saw her rosary beads on the bedside table. One of her daughters put them into her hands and immediately she began caressing the beads and they knew that she was saying the rosary. Once she had gone through each of the beads, she held the cross in her hand and kissed it. Amazing—isn’t it!   We do not know what happens in the mind of people when they are suspended between this earth and the next life, but to me this story shows that what is most important to you when you are alive is what can bring you the most com...

It’s just not fair…I have just learned that three handsome young men have just lost their beloved mother, Carla Thompson, to cancer. Carla and I go way back, in fact we met each as newlyweds and discovered that we would always be able to celebrate our anniversaries together since we had been married on the same day. Our oldest children had been born within days of each other and we spent many hours around the pool throughout the years, talking and laughing as the children grew older. We also played an occasional game of tennis, more for the fun and companionship than for the competition of the sport. Carla was much too young to die at only 58 years of age. But not only that, she had suffered more than her share during her lifetime. Her first husband, Vic, died in his early forties, leaving her to finish raising her sons and then the cancer invaded her body.    As I write this, I have a sadness in my soul. It is not because I have to wonder what Carla’s final destination w...