Eruliaf. It's a new word I learned today. No it's not a foreign word but I'll get to that in just a bit.
Yesterday however, the word "FAILURE" rang in my ears louder than the ticking of life's proverbial clock. A life mind you that stared back at me, a grim reflection and not a very pretty one I assure you! Though I did try to dress it up, nevertheless it still sagged in all the wrong places. If only I had given the past my very best shot, even if it fell short though I'd be disappointed, at least I'd know I tried. Yet I came to the opposite conclusion that procrastination and lack of effort on my part spelled out FAILURE like a bright, flashing neon sign that precariously hung over me!
At fifty three I feared I couldn't dream like when I was twenty three. There just wasn't enough time or energy left. My youthful looks were quickly fading and my health was not the best. Exercise sounded more like a curse word to me. And the million tricks they assured me would make me look and feel younger reminded me of going to the supermarket faced with a choice of a thousand different cereals and ending up with Corn Flakes.
I was also faced with the dismal fact no one would ever read my autobiography if one was written. And even if they would of read it I was sure I'd never finish writing it like everything else I put a pen to! It would put them to sleep anyway or just draw uninterested pity. There would be no lifetime movie featuring me (although that could be a good thing!) or no moment of fame, even the minimal fifteen minutes. All I could look forward to was a few lines in the obituary column one day.
Then I did what every Christian usually does after arriving home after their own pity party, hung over from drinking too many half-filled glasses of "whine". There was only one thing left to do. I prayed. Actually I cried out in desperation like any "faith filled" women of God. I walked the line in the sand, the same one Jesus carved out with his holy finger while another failure stood before her accusers. In lieu of stoning myself with the rocks of self defeat, I turned to God's Word which stood up to failure like a mighty warrior to a washed up bully. A mighty warrior in the muscled physique of chapter and verse shouting out to me, "Women where art thou accusers. Neither do I condemn thee."
I didn't stop there. I proceeded to climb over all the rocks that dropped out of the hands of regret and guilt who both stood aside heads down dressed in their Pharisaical garb. And then I walked, no actually skipped like a little girl through the green meadows and along the cool waters of scriptures that were written for me. Then under a tree with roots planted deep I read a love letter second to none. More romantic than Romeo and Juliet or for that matter, any other love story ever written. From Jesus my betrothed. This aging, tired fifty something betrothed to the Kings son!
I saw once again for the first time the rich inheritance stored up for me in a place not affected by moth or rust. A place He was preparing for me. And I was reminded for the millionth time that the Holy Spirit was given to me as a guarantee of these riches awaiting. How's that as an answer to the question "What will become of me in such a declining economy?" I saw that getting older wasn't so bad when it meant I'm that much closer to moving into my mansion, strolling down streets of gold with loved ones gone before me and best of all seeing Jesus face to face. It's says in the Bible that when we see Him we will be like Him. That will be the first time in a long while I will look forward to looking in a mirror. What beauty I will gaze upon! And to think that He will look upon me the same way!!
If all that was not enough to crash my pity party, I was reminded that William and Kate can eat their British hearts out! For I am the daughter of the King of Kings. Imagine plain, unassuming Carla, a real life princess born of the royalist blood. A King's kid, a sister to Jesus, the Prince of Princes promised an abundant life even before I get past Heaven's gates. A prized package consisting of mercy, joy and utter contentment in the midst of the trials and testings of this life.
I'm sure by now you figured out what ERULIAF means. It is simply FAILURE spelled backwards! So the next time you receive an inGRAVEd invitation to yourself for a pity party, RSVP that you definitely wont' be attending!
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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