Salt

I recently traveled to Kentucky, and Alabama, to see family. I wish the reasons were more cheerful. Normally, when I think of going back there it is because of a vacation or holiday. Christmas or New Years at my parents is a delight! Summer in Alabama is beautiful - a stark contrast from the desert of San Diego.  This trip, however, was sparked by a very different motivation.

It all began with a packet of salt. A few weeks ago, as we were studying the Beatitudes in Matthew 5, our pastor taught about being salt and light. He challenged us to pray about being salt to the unbelievers in and out of our lives.  I thought at the time that I really don't run into many unbelievers. My life is filled with Christians I know from my church family, my own relatives, and those I know in places I frequent.  I took the salt packet, put it in the pocket of my purse, and decided I would be looking around during the week to see whom the Lord may put in my path to minister to. The week went by, I was able to share some encouragement with someone, and thought maybe that was all there was to it.

2 weeks later, I received an email telling me my youngest brother was in the hospital in Kentucky with complete liver and kidney failure, and doctors had requested any family members that could come, should do so as soon as possible.  I have to admit, I didn't think of the salt packet at first. At first, I grieved.  I grieved for a young life that was wasted with poor choices. I grieved for the loss of a young man with children, that would never see them have families of their own.  I grieved the miles that had separated us for so long, and the baby brother I used to lay awake with on Christmas Eve while anticipating the crinkle of paper and feasts the next day.  But mostly, I grieved because I had no assurance I would ever see him again in heaven. There was no outward sign of a life surrendered  to Jesus as Lord and Savior. No speech to indicate even the smallest desire to want God in his life. No hint of peace.  And as I thought of these things, the message was brought to life. With tears in my eyes, and determination in my heart;  I booked my trip.

I was met by my parents at the airport in Kentucky. We knew our time was short, the doctor's message had made that clear. I won't go into the details of that visit - it's just too personal right now. What I do want to say, is that when we left a new soul was destined for heaven and angels were rejoicing. It was bittersweet: bitter because it took so many years of wasted pride before he was willing to surrender. Sweet, because we know without a doubt that the Holy Spirit prepared our hearts and his, for the work He wanted to do.  We had 15 minutes of perfect clarity, unity of the Spirit, and joy and peace evidenced on all our faces. I know that I will see my brother again - eternally. What joy there is in that assurance!

As I flew home, I happened to reach into the pocket of my purse for my phone. Underneath it, was a tiny salt packet. Still intact, still white, purposed there for me to find. I took it out and sat in awe at what it symbolized: God preparing my heart, the trip, the purpose He had when He placed those wonderful words on my Pastor's heart. I wrote my brother's name and his new 'birth date" on it. I wanted to give it to my Pastor: evidence of fruit from a  loving Father and His obedient servant.