Hell Is Real

Life does a good job of distracting me, of keeping my mind and heart apart from each other.  But this past week, in those moments of stillness when my mind has had a chance to wander a bit, it goes to a place of horror and torment.  The toes of my imagination have dangled in waters not even the demons want to swim in.

Hell.

At the LifeLight music festival last weekend, I had the privilege of hearing Bill Wiese speak about his trip to Hell and back.  It was awful.  But I believe every word he shared.  Heaven and Hell are part of the foundation of my faith, as is Christ, who can choose to reveal whatever He wants to whomever He chooses.  I have no doubt this man visited Hell in a vision, and I have no doubt what he describes is just as physical as the chair I am sitting on.  Bill's experience has made the unseen world more tangible to me, and because of this, my heart trembles at the thought of any human being spending eternity in Hell.

Hell is hot, beyond temperatures any living being can survive.  But in Hell, the heat doesn't kill you.  Because you're already dead.

In Hell your body is weak, exponentially weaker than what the worst bout of flu does to you.  You can hardly move your body, because on earth it is God who provides your strength (Ex 15:2).  You can't turn to God for strength because it is too late.  You are already dead.

Hell is full of gruesome demons who hate you and physically beat and shred your body.  At the start of creation, God created man in His image.  Demons hate God.  Because you're made in the image of God, they by default hate you.  But their beatings will never kill you.  Because you're already dead.

In Hell you don't bleed, even though demons rip chunks of flesh from your body.  There is no blood in Hell, because "the life of a creature is in the blood" (Lev 17:11).  You will never bleed to death because you have no blood to bleed.  You're already dead.

In Hell your body is consumed by fire.  You feel every ounce of pain.  But like the burning bush (Ex 3:2), your flesh never burns.  There is no water to quench the fire, because there is no water in Hell.  You never burn to death.  Because you're already dead.

In Hell you can't breathe, even though your lungs scream for oxygen.  You gasp for air like an asthmatic, except the asthmatic can still (though laboriously) overpower the inflammation in his lungs and take life-giving breaths.  In Hell your lungs never inflate because on earth you breathe the "breath of life" (Gen 2:7); in Hell there is no life.  You are already dead.

In Hell your body is consumed with maggots.  They crawl and wriggle and chew and gnaw, and they never stop (Isa 66:24) because your flesh will never be fully consumed.  For your flesh to be fully consumed, you would have to reach a point of death.  But it is impossible to die.  You are already dead.

Hell is a place of fear, worse than darkest nightmare you've ever experienced.  There is no comfort, because only God gives comfort (Isa 49:13).  You are consumed with a terror that never ends.  You will never wake up from it.  You can't.  You are already dead.

In Hell you are devoid of all hope, and this is the worst torment of all.  Hell is just as eternal as Heaven.  Once you reach Hell, it is too late.  Every torment you experience is made more painful with the knowledge that there is no end in sight, no relief, no break, no second chance...no hope.

You see, Hell is a place completely devoid of God and His attributes.  We don't realize the extent to which He infiltrates our daily earthly lives, evil-filled as they are.  He gives us water, breath, light, strength, protection, healing, comfort, peace, hope.  He is the Sustainer of all life.  He holds back evil so that it never completely overpowers.

In Hell, no part of God is present.  Demons reign and unleash unchecked evil and terror.  Torment is constant and permanent.  Life is completely and utterly absent...and you exist in this state for all eternity, just as real as everything is for you right now.

I deserve this Hell.  So do you.  Every single one of us deserves to spend eternity in this place, because every single one of us has sinned against a perfectly holy God.  Sin cannot exist in the presence of God.  But by His incredible grace, through Jesus, He offered us a way to become pure and perfect before Him.  Those of us who believe He did this and receive His gift of grace also receive the gift of Heaven, which is as wonderful as Hell is horrible.

I'm going to Heaven.  I want you to go with me.

It scares me to think you might not.

Latest Eye Update

Last week I returned to the retina specialist for my follow-up appointment.  My mom went with me, and our waiting room experience was quite different from the first time.  At the first visit, I arrived early, got in early, and got out quickly.  This time, we arrived early and spend a solid two and a half hours inside their massive clinic in exchange for about twenty minutes of service.

But as a health care professional myself, I can't complain about making patients wait to be seen.

The doctor numbed my eyes and probed the back sides of my eyeballs with his probey stick, then delivered some very good news.  The holes in my retinas haven't changed at all in the past three months, which means they're not getting worse.  Now that he knows they're not getting worse, he is very adamant in his recommendation to just let them be.  I will continue to follow up with him every six months, and that will be all.  Laser surgery is always a possibility to prevent further tearing, but he says that as long as the holes aren't changing, he doesn't feel the risks of surgery are worth the benefits.

This is very good news as I can carry on with life as usual.  I don't have to make any decisions about having or not having surgery, which (for those who have witnessed my decision-making skills) is a very huge relief.

God is good.

This Is the Reason for the Hope That I Have

My job, if I take the time to notice, continually reminds me of the fragility of life.

In the past week or so, two patients have stayed close to the surface of my memory.  The first, a middle-aged man who died suddenly and unexpectedly only hours after I first met him.

The second, a young girl not yet old enough to go to school, body weak and head bald from intense chemotherapy to kill off a fast-growing brain tumor.  Doctors don't put the odds of survival in her favor.

I took a coworker with me to this little girl's house, primarily because her home life is such that I did not feel safe going on my own.  After our visit, my coworker commented that seeing things like that "really makes you question your faith."

The conversation didn't go any farther than that, but I thought to myself how the opposite is true for me.  Seeing and experiencing hopeless and unfair and tough situations drives me closer to God, deeper in my faith.  To me, going through the trials of life without God seems worse than the trials themselves.

This day, Resurrection Sunday, is my most favorite day of the year.  There is a joy that fills my heart to overflowing when I stand up and sing praises to my risen King.  I get excited to be with my fellow believers and share this joy with them, because this faith we have is what binds us together as family.

Today, after a weekend of remembering the brutal death of Jesus on the cross, we celebrate His victory when He came back to life and conquered death once and for all.

You see, this is why I live.  When I see little girls with brain cancer and feel the pain that comes with life, this is what keeps me moving forward.  This is the reason I am able to get out of bed every morning, because truthfully, if not for this hope in Christ, I would find no purpose in life.

Because of what Jesus did for me and for you, I have an undying hope in His promises to come.  I know that when I die my life isn't over, but rather just beginning.  This whole life is just a single page in the book of eternity.  There is more to come, something greater, and that is the purpose for which I was created.

Eyes Update

Saw the retina specialist on Thursday in Sioux Falls.  They had asked me not to eat or drink anything before coming, so with those instructions and the urgency they felt to schedule me right away, I went with the full intention of having some form of surgery that day.  My friend came along, as regardless of the outcome, I would be unable to drive afterward.

Once my eyes were dilated to the size of basketballs, the doctor came in and began his poking and prodding.  And by poking and prodding, I mean digging for gold.  I had no idea it was possible to palpate the back side of the eye with a stick.

He told me I have a condition called lattice degeneration that comes with being near-sighted.  Basically, my retinas have become so thin that they have torn in a couple of places, one on each eye.  He thinks they've been there probably three to six months already.  There's a 20-30% chance they will worsen at some point, which can be reduced to 3-4% if I have laser surgery to scar down the damaged areas.  Regardless, he wants to see me again in a few months to determine if these holes are growing or not.  I decided to wait until that time to see what he finds and make a decision about surgery then.

All in all, good news.  I mean, it's not good to have holes in my retinas.  But the condition isn't serious, and I feel like I'm in the care of professionals who know what they're doing.

I celebrated by having drinks from Sonic and Caribou.  Happy hour at both - can't beat that.

I deeply appreciate all the prayers and support.  I had no doubt I was being prayed for by many people.  From Wednesday night on, I had a sense of peace and no presence of anxiety or nervousness (until he was ready to deliver the diagnosis).  That kind of peace can come only from the Father, Who watches over us and cares about even my eyes.

Grateful.

That's how I felt this morning when I first opened my eyes as all three alarms were blaring at me to get out of bed.  That's how I felt as I watched a beautiful sunrise in my rear-view mirrors on my way to work.

Would it be the last one I ever see?

A routine eye exam last night revealed holes in my retinas that need immediate attention.  And while my vision this morning was the same as it was before my appointment, I woke up much more aware of how precious this gift of sight is.

I'm not in grave danger of losing my eyesight.  But I know enough to recognize my increased risk for retinal detachment, and that it can happen at any time without warning, or without anything to stop it.  So tomorrow I will venture out to see a specialist, who may or may not decide I need surgery.  I'm not too excited about all these unknowns, or the prospect of having sudden and unplanned surgery.  But I go in the care of the Father, the Great Physician, who has my days planned out and will keep me close.  I am in good hands.