This blog is the combined effort of four senior pastors of different churches. Their desire is to point you toward living a God-centered, gospel-focused, Christian life.

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

Eighteen years ago today

Eighteen years ago today, my mother-in-law was killed by a man, high on crack, who was driving a stolen vehicle and being chased at high speed by police. While there is much to be learned here about drug abuse, improper police procedures, and sin in general, what I want to focus on are two things.

First, when your world is rocked that day like ours was, you need an anchor for the soul. Jesus Christ is that anchor. I told my young sons that day when we learned their grandma was dead that right now is the moment that we will decide whether or not our faith is real, or if it’s just a pretend game. Faith in Christ is not about my best life now or God being my personal cosmic genie. Christianity is about the reality of eternity and how God made a way by the slaughter of His Son for us to be in His presence forever.

Second, my mother-in-law was a remarkable woman. Nobody loved like she did. Nobody gave and sacrificed like she did. No one was as committed to the Great Commission as she was (one example—after she died, we discovered that she gave over 40% of her income to missionaries and missions agencies). Nobody was more supportive of my training to be a pastor or of my preaching and teaching. When we were dirt poor and without a vehicle, she gave us her car to use for two months after we returned from studying in Israel until we could get the money together to buy a car. That meant that she walked to her work every weekday for over two months. When she died, the people from her supermarket brought flowers to the house, and the guy who brought them was so moved by Rose Marie’s life and example that he could barely speak. Her most common comment to me, generally accompanied with a hug, was, “Scott, I love to hear you preach.” I miss that ... a lot.
Rest well in the presence of your beloved Lord Jesus, Rose Marie Klopfenstein, until that trumpet sounds and the greatest reunion ever commences.

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