Toss the Word Luck Out the Door!

    

 

 This is a story that I wrote long ago about luck versus God's steadfastness.

   I am trying to eradicate the words luck and lucky from my vocabulary. God does not toss a coin to see who gets anointed with the good and who gets whacked with the bad of life. As you know, our Lord told us the rain falls on the good as well as the unrepentant. You can bring all the apples to our blessed Teacher that you want, but more than likely, the closer you get to mirroring Him in action and thought the heavier the burden you'll be asked to carry. There is no luck - there is only God. I would suggest that whiners and complainers might want to work on their suffer-in-silence characteristics. We must learn to quit describing ourselves as unlucky whenever our prayers are not answered in the self-serving manner in which we sometimes approach praying. Even Einstein admitted that God doesn't play dice with the universe. It's not luck my friends - it's God's will and mercy.

     Prior to the American Civil War, circa 1856, a lucky black-slave in the deep south was in the process of being beaten mercilessly by his master's overseer. He was guilty of stealing leftover scraps of food from the plantation owner's kitchen to supplement his family's meager daily allotment, it was assumed. Each time the knots on the end of the leather attached to the whip found its target against the man's back, it tore large and deep chunks of flesh and forced the man's lungs to let out an involuntary "humph." Added to that ghastly sound, each time the whip made the tortuous connection, the man yelled out a very labored, "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for choosing me to carry this tiny load. Thank you, Jesus.

     Remarkably and unknown to the sadist overseer and plantation owner, even though the slave's family could surely have used an increase in their daily starvation-level food-allowance, the food was actually going toward feeding a poor white-trash tenant farmer and his family. The farmer had contracted small pox and was unable to work his small subsistence-level acreage of land worn out by the plantation owner's non-rotation of cotton crops. That's all that is known from a mention in a diary of unknown authorship found after the war. That slave knew he wasn't beaten due bad luck. He was chosen with certainty to be beaten in order to have an opportunity to be a glory to God by his joyful words delivered under such painful duress.

     I don't know what real sacrifice or service is. It is embarrassing at times when I realize just how safe, secure, and pampered I live. But I do know what persecution is. And I am not persecuted my political Christian friends.

     Jesus tricked us all. It's not luck that If you love, and that love should include even your enemies, you cannot resist serving those whom you love especially when they are suffering. And that suffering isn't necessarily related to hunger. What was it our Lord Jesus said? Something about man doesn't live by bread alone. What a sly fox is our loving Lord. I'm not lucky. God does not answer my prayers randomly. I am thankful to live in the certainty of God rather than depend on random luck.

    Love you all!  Praise his holy name.