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Imagine you go to the eye doctor, who asks you to read the chart. There is a large “E” at the top. To do so, it must be four times larger, about half the size of the wall. You cannot read it. Now, imagine skiing with that kind of vision. Would you? Fifteen-year-old Jacob Smith does. His vision is four times higher than “legally blind.” How can he ski? His brother helps him to the top of the hill. Then, he carries a two-way radio that brings his father’s voice, and that voice guides him down the mountain. Jacob must trust his father. How much? “I mean,” says Jacob, “enough to turn right when he tells me to.” We share a similar experience. Our alpine slope is real life where human instinct fails us. How do we make decisions in a complex world, or do we love those who hurt us or respond with compassion? Jesus told his followers, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27, ESV) No matter how competent we feel, we are blind to how to live. The devil whispers in our lives, and the tug of life’s lusts are constant. We are going through life needing guidance. Faith means admitting to your blindness. Listen to the voice. You listen to his voice enough to turn when he says to turn. It will tell you how to live, how to love, and how to worship. Can you hear your Father’s voice? -Robert G. Taylor-

Beatrice Fediuk died in Winnipeg at the age of 94. She was neither well-known nor a society standout. But when the Winnipeg Free Press printed her obituary, everyone noticed. She wrote it herself. Instead of an obituary, she called it her resume for heaven. It began, "Dear Lord, please accept my application for Eternal Life." The column told of her birth on October 27, 1922, to her parents. As with most obituaries, it had a list of survivors, including a husband, daughter, and grandchildren. Beatrice shared memories. "Lord, you know that (as a teacher) I never had any 'teacher's pets.' Rather, I put my heart into teaching those with learning challenges, or difficult family situations. It was here that I feel I did my best work. … I also continued volunteer work, knitting scarves for underprivileged children." It concluded with, "Lord, I hope that you will find that I have met my Objectives and deserve a place in Your heavenly home. You know where to find me to further discuss my qualifications." The truth is we all write an obituary with our lives. Most write it with an eye on the earth left behind. Yet, the best ones are written with an eye toward eternity. Jesus said, "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." (Matthew 5:16, ESV) When lights shine today, God prepares a place in heaven. What will go in your obituary?   -Robert G. Taylor-

Evil has a face, and it looks normal. If you could personify evil, you could not find a better poster boy than Adolf Eichmann. He coined the term “final solution” and the method that led to the Holocaust. His plan took six million men, women, and children to gas ovens for extermination. Eichmann was found and tried for his crimes. One writer came to see what kind of man this was. He expected sinister and twisted. Instead, he found him ordinary and unremarkable. Eichmann never considered what he did evil, but only his duty to obey the leaders of his party. He refused to believe he engaged in evil. We would ask, “what makes a person do that?” Perhaps we should pose it to the person staring at us in our mirrors. Why do ordinary people find themselves caught in the trap of the devil? The Psalmist asked it. His answer is this: “For he flatters himself in his own eyes that his iniquity cannot be found out and hated.” (Psalm 36:2, ESV) If we never examine ourselves critically, we accept our behavior without question. We “flatter ourselves” by saying, “we are good people caught in a cruel world.” Yet, the world is not outside of ourselves but inside. For the architect of the Holocaust, “normal” does not come to mind. But is that not what we use to cleanse ourselves of responsibility? -Robert G. Taylor-