Storage

I'm recycling paper. In this case that phrase means I am going through the files in my good, old-fashioned four drawer metal filing cabinet—an antique in this technological age. Most of the files in the cabinet are ministry-related, but there are a good number that have housed the many recipes I've cut out of magazines over the years. The weight of the paper alone represents a lot of dead trees. I bought some software which should help me to warehouse all the recipes that I want to keep. IF I get this project done, I will have stored that weight of paper and all that information inside one little laptop. Isn't that amazing?

It will be even more amazing if the hard drive doesn't crash and if I don't lose all that I have so carefully saved. I guess that's why someone invented jump drives, or whatever the current name is for those little sticks that act as external memory "just in case."

I had the privilege to visit my last remaining aunt recently. She just celebrated her 98th birthday. A few days before that event Aunt Esther suffered a stroke. She doesn't remember the three weeks in the hospital that followed that devastating "computer crash." Though she has since recovered remarkably well, she struggles with remembering names. Unlike my laptop, my iDisk and my jump stick, Aunt Esther has no external memory program to rebuild her internal drive.

Her experience reminds me of a story I heard from a visiting preacher. He was telling us about his wife. The dear lady was confined to a nursing home. She no longer remembered her husband, her children, or anything about her life. The internal memory had been wiped clean. The preacher explained that in spite of his wife's infirmity, he knew that God still had a purpose for her life. He explained that there was one thing that his dear partner still remembered. She constantly repeated out loud, in the hearing of all around her, these words: "Jesus loves me." Her testimony remains strong even while her body and mind are weak.

The lesson? My guess is that the significance of that little phrase had become so ingrained in this woman's life, that no illness could erase it. A lifetime of focus on Jesus that went beyond her focus on the other relationships which were so important to her, brought dividends in the end.

My prayer is that my focus will be so fixed on Jesus now that He becomes the last name on my lips later.

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