Salvation Permanence

 

I am not a person who frequently loses things.

There are times when I will find myself misplacing something, keys, cell phone, water bottle, occasionally my wallet. The point being that there is a difference between losing something and simply misplacing it.

If something is lost, your frame of mind is that this object is beyond retrieval, you are unlikely to ever see it again. You may put some feelers out, but there is very little hope that it will ever make its way back to you.

If something is misplaced, it is just a matter of finding it, searching your memory for where you last had it, identifying the place where you have left it behind.

When something is misplaced, there will be times when a war will break out in your head. On the one side of the conflict, an army of soldiers are trying to convince you that what you are searching for is not simply misplaced, but truly lost.

“Surrender!”

“Your search is in vain.”

They will attack that part of your brain that loved peek-a-boo as a baby. The part of your brain that wants you to believe that if you can’t see a thing, that it no longer exists, it is obviously gone forever.

There is, however, a way in which you can launch a counter-attack. There is also an army that knows that your keys were in your pocket whenever you got home, so they have to be SOMEWHERE in this house. They also know that you would not just throw your television remote in the garbage. These are the soldiers who were eventually trained in the art of object permanence, the part of your brain that developed the knowledge that your parent’s face is just cupped behind their hands. The part of your brain that that learns that people do not simply disappear.

Our salvation shares that quality of object permanence with people, keys, and cell phones. There is no reason to fear that is it gone simply because we have lost sight of it. Interestingly enough, the fear that we have lost our salvation is proof that we have misplaced something else as well, our faith. Perhaps we took our salvation with us to the gym and fear that we have lost it at the treadmill of works. Maybe we have carried our salvation with us to the library and worry that we have lost it among the shelves of legal tomes.

No, if we pat down our pockets for our salvation and make sure that our salvation is not embarrassingly perched on top of our head where we can’t see it, and we still can’t seem to locate it, we can always go back to the first place that we saw it. The place that it was purchased for us, a Roman cross on a lonely hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem.

There are insurance scams out there where you can pay a subscription fee to make sure that your salvation is never lost or stolen, but they are truly misplacement ministries that make their living off of hiding your salvation in places that it doesn’t belong and convincing you that it may have disappeared. These insurance policies are unnecessary for such a durable good as your salvation. Surround yourself with those who will remind you of that fact, and remind others of it as well.

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Keep those people close who can draw a map back to that place where your salvation can be found, and always be prepared to give directions to that place yourself, you never know when you might come across someone who needs to find their way, either back or for the first time, to the foot of the cross.

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24 thoughts on “Salvation Permanence

    • Amusingly enough, at least to me, this whole post came out of a search for a bib that my niece made for my daughter. I was trying to convince my wife that we hadn’t lost it.

      Oh, and almost immediately after writing the first draft, I thought I might have lost my wallet.

      Further advice, don’t carry your salvation in a pair of jeans with holes in the pockets.

      • from kindergarten to 5th grade i was sent to a “Grace Christian School” founded and operated by a bunch of sicko fundamentalists.. so thank Jesus Beloved i had His indwelling Holy Spirit to teach me that nobody’s going to hell for wearing denim blue jeans.. what a ridiculous notion..

        now.. blue jeans with holes in them.. that sounds like a whole nother layer of hell for such rebellious slackers like that..

          • yeah.. nothing inherently evil in cotton fabrics colored blue.. i learned.. cause back then in school my green colored cotton jeans passed the dress code.. was just a matter of color.. nothing else.. how maddening such a thing.. especially for you.. outlawing a fabric of all colors?? i guess that’s a good way to avoid color discrimination..

            #AllJeansMatterEvenBlackJeansAndBlueJeansWithHoles

          • I think we couldn’t even wear black or faded or anything! I recall wearing corduroys which are a sin in and of itself if you ask me.

          • Quick story.. we Grace Christian School students were restricted from wearing blue jeans even to sporting events off school campus. And the same dress code was expected of parents too.

            In 5th grade, my last year there, on a midwinter night with a heavy snow falling like scarves from the sky we were at a school basketball game hosted in the gymnasium of a local church. I was there because a boy in my class, Corey, was having a birthday party and sleep-over that night with about eight of us classmates.

            Well, we boys were bored with the basketball game and decided to go outside and play in the falling snow. It was a riot. The snow was wet and packed remarkably well so we had a snowball fight between ourselves.

            But somehow Mr Cade Lincoln—I call him this because his name was Mr Cade, and he also was very tall and thin and dressed up as Abe Lincoln every Presidents Day.. well, somehow this teacher had sniffed a transgression in the air and came out to find it. Just as no blue jeans could be worn, no snowballs could be thrown. So he ordered us to stop.

            And just like my name sake I knew this goliath had to be silenced. There was no way in hell this stiff legalist was gonna crush my spirit with his assumption of authority off school grounds. Don’t get me wrong, I was a respectful kid. However, If I hadn’t fought back I would have probably lost my mind.

            So as this thin giant turned to walk away I threw my wet snow ball—splat—in the back of his head. And we all cheered and ran!

            When the dad of our birthday boy came in his station wagon to pick us all up we piled in and the boys immediately and excitedly proceeded to tell this pastor and missionary what I had done. I thought I was in trouble. But he turned to me, smiled, and said, “Good for you, David. Good for you.”

            I was glad for Corey’s dad. Good man. But not Mr Cade Lincoln. He was a sick and cruel wolf.

          • LOL!! I made the mistake of sending my teenage daughter to a school like that. To be fair, I didn’t realize it was THAT legalistic until after I sent her there. They touted themselves as loving and caring, but they were anything but that. Anyway, they could wear jeans there (ha ha) but they were all about rules and looking good and the principal was a whack a doodle. I remember one time talking to him, because my daughter got into all kinds of trouble there (she takes after me) and he was going on and on about all these things she did wrong. I brought up the issue of the heart–you can’t make a child obey or be a robot. you have to address the heart. And for that, he looked at me rather strangely and changed the subject–like what I said was just off the charts. Good grief. We pulled her out and she’s homeschooling this year and although she doesn’t love her co-op history class, her mood and personality has improved by a million. Legalism breeds hatred for one self and I was seeing this happen while she was there. It hurt me because I went through the same thing in those types of atmospheres. I thank God for the freedom to homeschool and for walking out of a legalistic church experience.

          • this was 1980 for me.. right after the 1970’s when blue jeans were regarded as symbols of youthful rebellion among the conservative.. i’d venture to guess my old school has since amended their dress code to allow for occasions for blue jeans.. but like you said, there is still that legalistic spirit imbuing the place..

            with such internet knowledge at our fingertips homeschool seems the preferable option by far.. wish it was something i had growing up.. i still resent the time the state mandated me to sit in silly stupid classrooms learning very little really.. not that i’m retarded.. but they stole much of my childhood as i see it..

          • Well for what’s it’s worth, I would have never guessed! You seem very intelligent and well written to me. But it was the same for me. I actually soak up all my kids school books and when you homeschool from kindergarten on, you end getting an education yourself just by being their teacher 😊

          • O.. don’t get me wrong.. i was a brilliant and learned kid.. just got my knowledge largely outside the institutional framework.. an education had, i trust, by the Spirit’s personal path and speed for my life.. had a number of bad public school math teachers, for instance, who were more concerned with crushing my spirit then in affirming a genius that exceeded their own.. so the game i played in high school, for instance, was to do as little work as possible.. which means just that.. i didn’t do homework.. didn’t care to.. seems the teachers still passed me through.. even though i’d do things like hand in tests blank then go down to the gym to play dodge ball.. i’m thinking i was helped growing up with a decent family library.. encyclopedias and all..

            the last time i applied myself in high school i was accused of plagiarism by my senior academic english teacher.. i went to see my guidance counselor and she told me i had enough credits to graduate.. all i needed to do was maintain an english class in the morning.. which i did.. i dropped to the general english where my first day there they were passing around markers and crayons (no lie) and the teacher (the boys basketball coach) wanted us to draw up a pictorial epitaph (if we were to die today what would it say?).. i drew a picture of a parking meter that read EXPIRED.. handed it in.. and waited for the end of first period bell to ring so i could get in my car, drive home and fall back to sleep..

            btw.. the Hebrew word for teaching is the same word for learning, except its pronounced more intensely.. this corresponds to what you’ve said, Elle—teaching is a wonderfully intensive form of learning..

          • yeah a two minute scribble (for me) on construction paper.. that was our class lesson for the day!

            to be honest.. i slid through high school in some cases via the girls either directly cooking the books or pleading with the teachers to give me a passing grade.. these teachers, more than anything, were probably motivated by fear of having to put up with me again as they agreed to pass me through.. i think i was a bit of a terror.. /snort snort

          • Environments like that make me think that they would be perfectly happy with a bunch of sociopaths running around, as long as they could do a good job of faking it at being the good little children they want them to be.

            Make sure this tombs are nice and white.

          • Lol exactly! They had a mandatory performance we had to go to and a lot of the kids could play instruments or sing really well because the music program was excellent but I remember telling my husband “who cares if you can play Beethoven if you are gonna burn in hell!” Maybe that was over dramatic but it’s how I felt. Everyone was phony and there wasn’t any talk of the gospel–just good works. It sickened me.

  1. Wait, I thought I left my pass to heaven in a pair of old jeans. Hehe. I lost my wedding ring and thought it was misplaced. Honestly I think it was stolen because my drug addict bro in law was here over xmas and I wasn’t wearing it. Conveniently it went missing. Pretty sure he took it but I have no proof. My husband has an annoying thing he says whenever I lose something: “well it must be here somewhere” oh thanks Sherlock. My deducing skills wouldn’t have worked without that tidbit! Lol.

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