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I stormed down the hall and plopped myself into a chair across from my supervisor. “One time. Just one time, I would like to NOT be asked an insurance related question…is that so much to ask?” She chuckled as she replied, “you’ll have to find a new line of work first.”

In my line of work (don’t I sound simultaneously official and snobby), I sign my name “Renae Adelsberger, CISR.” What does the CISR stand for? Nerdiness (okay, so I’m not Dwight Schrute). Need I say more? My job title is “Commercial Account Manager” which means I don’t have to go out and sell new policies. Rather, I service the existing ones and dig into details. How much will it cost to rebuild your building in the event of a total loss? How much of that loss are you willing to retain? How would you like to be billed? (Are you bored yet?)

Some businesses, like offices, have very little risk and often default to a minimum premiums. But others, like crane operators and hot air balloons, have high risks which are reflected in their chunky premiums. I have to navigate these options and companies and do my due diligence to do what’s right for the customer.

We purchase comprehensive and collision insurance for our vehicles, liability insurance for our homes, life insurance for our spouses, and workers’ compensation for our  businesses. But I fear we aren’t prioritizing our potential losses. We prepare our families and our businesses for physical losses but not for a spiritual one.

We individually list artwork, jewelry, and furs so that they are fully covered but we leave our souls to chance.

Excuse the cheesiness, but Christ paid our premium on the cross. It was a cost we could never afford and one we could never finance.

Why do so many people say, “I’ll deal with religion later?” You can’t purchase insurance to cover a loss that has already happened. Once you die – it’s too late.

Trust Jesus and Jesus alone. He alone can rescue your soul from an eternity in hell.

The Gospel demands a decision – either yes or no. You either take up your cross and follow Him or you turn your back and go your own way.

Yes, the insurance metaphor breaks down quickly. But ponder this: have you considered and better planned for the future of your stuff than you have for your own soul?

Yes or no.

Scene One

“Who has read their Bible this week?”

All five hands shot into the air.

“This is awesome! What have you been reading?”

Blank stares.

One high school girl admitted, “I read the Bible verse texted to my phone everyday. But I don’t remember what passages they were.” Two other girls agree; their weekly interaction with the Scripture is via text.

 Scene Two

“I’m so glad you like him!”

“Yeah, he’s a great Christian, too.”

“How do you know?”

“He gets a Bible verse texted him every day.”

Finale

Leggings have their place in my wardrobe. They compliment several dresses. They also fit snugly under jeans to keep me from freezing into a Renae-sicle in the winter. But they aren’t mean to be worn as pants with a regular t-shirt.

The Verse-a-day, likewise, serves a great purpose. It brings Scripture to mind daily. Keeps the Word ever before us. Helps brings redemptive value to our phones. Bridges the gap of our faith and our technology.

But it must be kept in its place. Just like leggings are  not pants; the Verse-a-Day is not a quiet time.

Problems with posing it as a quiet time:

• Verses are read out of context.
• The full story of Scripture cannot be understood.
• Quality time with the Holy Spirit is ignored.
• God’s message is confined to 240 characters or less.

Download the Bible app. Get a verse texted to you everyday. Read the verse. Meditate upon it. Hide it in your heart. But use it as a quiet time supplement, not a replacement.

I am bursting with pride and shaking with trepidation when I announce, my big brother is officially a Memphis City Police Officer.

When we left the swearing in ceremony, Kevin remarked, “Was that a graduation ceremony or a Sunday morning service?”

The officer asked the recruits to turn and look at the many faces in the crowd. He explained that these people – spouses, parents, siblings, friends – constitute their support system. They are accepting a difficult job. In fact, the entire ceremony was in memory of an officer who was killed in the line of duty. They didn’t have to worry about a support system, those people and coworkers would always be at their side. They needed to evaluate their foundation. Without a proper foundation, the rest crumbles in on itself. The foundation needs to be God. Anything other God will fall apart.

I wanted to scream a holy hallelujah after that! What a great reminder for all of us.

God is not our leaning post or our crutch to get us through the day. His letter to us is not simply some book that looks great on our shelf. He is our very foundation – the cornerstone, Scripture tells us. Likewise, our families, friends, and even our jobs are not our gods. They may be the bricks of the building or even the roof. But they aren’t the foundation. Only God keeps everything tied together. Only God creates calm in chaos.

One of the recruits gave the commencement speech and reminded his fellow graduates that they trained as hard as they could for 21 weeks. But the evil, the bad guys, they are training even harder and even longer.

I am proud to proclaim that my brother is one of the good guys in uniform. And yet I fearfully admit that, daily, he will be confronted with the bad guys in the city who will use any means necessary not to get caught. We must remember to pray for our men and women in uniform.

And we must not forget that we are also waging a war against in the spiritual evil in this world. We may not be receiving radio messages with rescue 911 calls. But our foundation needs to be Christ as well. I may not be required to wear a bullet proof vest to work, but I do need to know where I’m going if I was to die today.

What’s your life founded on?

I suppose for weeks like this one, the ironic Bible verse should be Luke 12:32

“Sell your possessions and give to the poor.”

Or maybe a statement from Jesus when talking to the rich young ruler in Matthew 19:21,

“Go, sell your belongings and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.”

Sure, we had a box of things to donate to RIFA and we even sold our old television to a friend.

It’s almost too bad God didn’t call us to sell our possessions and move to Africa. But then again, I wouldn’t have been able to spend the afternoon hauling boxes with this crew.

What have I learned about God, the church, or community today?

• Our church has some amazing middle school and high school students. A serious shout out to the young men who hefted our possessions into the trailer without complaining.
•  I was so excited that God was opening this new chapter of our lives that I forgot the old chapter was closing. And yet, He’s sovereign still. He provided a home for us in Hartland Apartments and is now allowing us to have a home in our house.
• My father would remind me during the shopping process that a house isn’t a home until you live there. And now my husband continues to remind me that this home isn’t where we will live forever. It may be our forever home on earth. But even minor repairs of rotten wood and falling limbs remind us that this house isn’t eternal. Only our Heavenly Father can prepare that house for us. We don’t need to get caught up in this one so much that we neglect our eternal home.
• God doesn’t call us all to poverty. We firmly believe He has called us to this house. Not so that we can have a house and a yard – those both are perks – but so that we have a new mission field called our neighbors.

We were able to walk up and down the street last night to stretch our legs and open our eyes to the families around us. We are thrilled to report that we have landed in a diverse area and hope to begin planting seeds of Truth soon.

More spiritual lessons to come from home ownership, I’m sure. But until then…

…Welcome to our earthly home.

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Shhh…Don’t tell anyone, but I’m going to miss this place.

Not the smell of dirty pit bulls after the rain, or walking my laundry across the parking lot to the machines, the barbed wire on the neighboring property, occasional cop spotting, or even that time they towed my car. I’m definitely not going to miss the reaction I get when people say, “you live there????

This place wasn’t our prison, project, or problem; this place was our home – our first home, in fact.

It’s the place we spent our first night as Mr. and Mrs., where I penned my first book, conducted “Adelsberger seminary,” mourned the loss of jobs and celebrated the new ones.

It’s where we’ve seen friends move in and move out. In fact, we’re now the longest residents of this building. And yet, we leave behind a tremendous friendship, friendly veteran, nurse, and the wonderful lady across from us.

As we close this chapter of our lives, it’s natural to ask ourselves, do we have any regrets? Or, if we lived the last 2+ years over again, would we do anything different?

Even if you’re not moving, that’s such a good question to ask ourselves: Will I look back on these days and wish I had done more?

Jesus tells us in the passage nicknamed The Great Commission that we are to “go and make disciples of all men.” That verb “go” in the original language implies “as you go” or “as you are on your way.”

Our living location is our mission field. This one we’re in for the next seven days looks very different from the one we’re moving to. But our command from God is the same. Make disciples. How can we make disciples unless they believe? How can they believe if we don’t speak the Words of Life to them?

This is a mission field where walking past people was easy since we have a building and a flight of stairs in common. But as we move into a house, we will have to intentionally seek out interactions.

What does your mission field look like? Are you using your living situation to bring glory to God or comfort to yourself?