A Flawed Legacy - 29

Buddy, my new driver, was waiting for me when I got to the terminal.  I had overslept after spending a lot of time sharing what I knew about the Bible with one of the new converts.  As I climbed into the cab, there was a check waiting for me.  "New policy," he said, "Since we are going to be on the road for a couple of weeks, they advanced you the money they estimate you will earn.  If it is more or less, they will settle it at the end of the month."

That was interesting to me.  I had been drawing checks marked "casual pay" and while it was always accurate, it always seemed to err in my favor.  We were headed for St. Louis and then on to Elgin, IL but as it turned out the folks in St. Louis were not ready for us, so we drove over to Elgin and got them loaded.  I mention that as I had always heard that the moving and storage people always charged more when the customer was not prepared to move on the date the move was scheduled.  Such policies made it so much easier for us on the actual moves.

As it was, we had a chance to talk at length before we got to Elgin.  My driver was interested in hearing about the "miracle" in Charleston that I had mentioned when they called me to report.  Buddy was like me, I told him, for too many years I had been a church goer rather than preparing myself to be a Christian.  Now, we had a serious talk.  His wife was the Christian in their family and it was she who shared what she knew with their boys.  When Buddy got home, there were always those session where the boys were asking their Dad if he believed the same as their mother.  At least, he said he tried to be honest.  He was learning as he learned.  So, we spent lots of our time on the road, in Bible study.

Those sessions were precious to me as I took my studies, seriously.  I had learned that not all churches had the exact same beliefs and often, this "taught" their members to be sensitive to the needs of those they chose to invite to church.  I look back on those sessions and wonder, why can't we all learn to listen to the various interpretations and make up our own minds as to how we relate to the Bible?

Bible study is a lot like loading furniture or machinery on to a moving man and getting it safely from one place to another.  Some parts are very fragile and you must be careful where you place then while loading and unloading.  Others you can stack three and four high and they look like they just came off the show room floor on the day they were purchased.  And there are always the pieces that have become worn through use over the years.  You still pay careful attention to all of them, but you also know that some can deal with rough handling and no one would ever know the difference.

St. Louis and Elgin were safely loaded and we headed back to Fort Wayne for temporary storage.  We merely "dropped" the one trailer and hooked up to another and were on our way - to the motel.  That was the benefit we had in moving from one place to another.  And for me, it afforded more opportunity to share what I knew along the way.  Buddy was intrigued on our first trip together as he thought that people might be offended if we ever got into a question regarding religion, but I think I assured him that most were as "hungry" for the truth as he was on the day we met.

On this trip, we were together for over three weeks and then there would be times when he would come into the South for only one or two pick ups or deliveries.  Whenever he headed my way, I could be assured of a call.  That worked well with the week end jobs I had developed with a company that specialized in epoxy overlays in older industrial plants.

A Flawed Legacy - 22

I found my way to the YMCA, paid a week's rent in advance - thanks to my new friend, and found my room.  Not fancy, but more than adequate.  Met some of my neighbors and left to explore downtown Tulsa.  First thing I noticed was that we were directly across the street from the Public library which turned out to be a God-send, a place to study, especially about those matters I was uncovering in my study of the Bible.  I had read through the Newer Testament two or three times, always stopping when I came to the book of Revelation.  Something seemed to tell me, I was not ready for that, yet! 

Earlier in the week, I had called each of the Methodist churches in downtown and when one merely had a recording telling about their services, I opted for the First Methodist church where a young woman had answered and enthusiastically informed me that this is where I belonged.  She was right, as it turned out.  I was not that impressed with what I saw in my journey around downtown, so I went back to my room and continued my study of the Bible.  By this time, I had three legal sized sheets of paper with questions I needed to find answers to.  Saturday, I took a bus out to explore the campus at ORU and was really impressed.  The book store was open so I went in to look around.  I "happened" to notice a case where they had buttons reflecting Christian thought and I chose on that appealed to me. When I took it off of the card, I noticed verse of scripture that intrigued me.

When I got back to my room, I opened my Bible and searched for the verse, Acts 1:8, which read, .."you shall have power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you and you shall be My witnesses, both in Jerusalem and Judea, and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth."  What did that mean?  It posed lots of questions for me, so I went back one verse and read:  "He (Jesus) said to them (the disciples) It is not for you to know times or epochs which the Father has fixed by His own authority." Now I began to realize how much I had to learn.

Apparently, I had chosen the right church.  The Pastor reminded the church that Sunday morning, that he was "called" to teach what the scriptures had to say.  I decided then and there, to become one of his more serious students.  The congregation fascinated me.  I had been attending Methodist churches most of my life and was accustomed to enter and be seated without being recognized by others, but here, they seemed to know that I was a visitor and reached out to be certain that I knew I was welcome.  And they sang songs I recognized from my youth.   I felt certain that I had found a home.  That was confirmed as they had a separate choir of older folks that sang, "It gets sweeter and sweeter as the days go by, Oh what a love between my Lord and I."  I happened to note one older fellow who really poured himself into singing that song, so I hurried to meet him as the services ended.  "You sang that song as if you really meant it.  Can I ask, do you?"  "Oh yes, son, I meant it with everything that is within me."  I knew that I knew, I was in the right place.

I found plenty of work through the Manpower office, so I began to feel very comfortable with my life - except that I knew, I would be returning to San Diego, shortly.  That would change.

Out of the blue, I had a phone call from Janice.  She was asking me, .."what are you doing in Tulsa?" I was asking her, "What are you doing out of prison?"  She didn't answer.  When she asked me if I was coming back to San Diego, I needed to have an answer to my question, first.  Apparently, she was not going to tell me.  I guess I got my answer when an officer met me in the lobby of the YMCA with an order to pay $600 for child support.  Fortunately, I had the money, but I responded to the order by appearing in court with the payment and my question, "How could she be asking for support when the last I knew of her whereabouts, she was in prison?"  The Judge had no answers, of course, this was a matter for the California courts to settle.  I obtained an address of the "Family" courts in San Diego and wrote to them, asking the question I had posed in court.  I never received a response, nor did I hear from her for several weeks.

My life continued on with no problems finding a job.  My best experience was going to work for an Engineering firm to work in their mail room.  I loved it, learning new skills, and fortunately catching the eye of a VP who told me they were about to move.  I told him of my experience working with other companies in a similar situation and I would up with a new task, and much more money.  It was a real opportunity for me as we wound up "celebrating" our move by having the employees take their personal items and walking a few blocks to their new office.  It helped that the move made the front page of the Tulsa papers and I now had visual proof of my ingenuity.

More - what is wrong about the Church

If you have been following me, I have to apologize for the delay as I have had to tend to more pressing business - that is, finding a job.  It's a long story.  One of these days I may take time to share the ugly details.

As I was considering what to write about I received an e-mail from The American Spectator and an article - The Loneliness of American Society, based on a report by the National Science Foundation (NSF) that was originally published in the American Sociological Review (NSR) and authored by three - obviously talented sociologists, at Duke and the University of Arizona.  They claim the study was based on 1,500 face to face interviews where the respondents - one in four, claimed to be bored with their life styles.  Well, that wasn't their words.  They preferred to use terms like "social isolation" and "significant decrease" in social connections to close friends and families.

I would have to believe that if we went to a few of the 100+ churches in our relatively small community, you might have uncovered similar thoughts.

I am 84 years of age and recently became a widower and I can easily understand such feelings.   I moved to this community to marry my wife and now, my in-laws have chosen to ignore me.  That was made worse by the fact my wife really did not enjoy making friends in our community and I was left, almost alone.  There were moments when I yearned to give up and hopefully join her, simply by not eating more than enough to just ease the pain in my stomach.

But I have been a Christian for over 39 years and the more I tried to pity myself, the more I was reminded of that scripture that reads:  "You shall be given power when the Holy Spirit comes and you shall be My witnesses,,,"  (Acts 1:8)  I decided to use that "power" to get up and walk and my life took on new meaning and purpose.  Whereas I only had 7-8 people I could call my friends when my wife passed on, I just counted and I have over 125 who I could call and talk to whenever I had something of interest to others.

I have to wonder if those esteemed sociologists had thought of questioning the others that they talked with, what contributions they to they offer that would appeal to the others?

Then the report turns to a Rabbi who suggested that "we are raising a generation of children who are (as he is quoted as saying) orphans in time."  "They are," he continued, "incapable of integrating their past and their future, living instinctively in an almost animal like fashion only in the present."  He offers an opinion that they wander about aimlessly without connections - physically, emotionally or spiritually.

I have to wonder where his synagogue is located.   Surely, not in the America that was to be the focus of this article.  I will admit that there are children acting as children and I would point to the fact that far too many of our children are getting pregnant and adding to the problem.  But I see an America that is beginning to awaken to the fact that a new day is dawning and proof of that can be found everywhere you see youngsters congregate.  They are holding in their hands, examples of technology that was not even imagined when my children were in their teens.

When I was their age, we had to make do with whatever was available as there was a war sapping a huge portion of our resources and technology was not a part of our education. And there were problems in our families - real problems, girls getting pregnant and boys being buried as casualties of a war that created a real reason for fear for most of us.

The real difference between then and now is that my generation went to church, regularly and if there was to be a community effort to draw us together, it was orchestrated by the churches and most of them were not even speaking to one another. 

Now we have multi-million dollar companies grinding out tons of literature on how to rear the children, teach the children, enthuse the children, employ the children and for the most part, most of it is not in tune with the times.  That not only applies to children in the church, but also to the parents, the married couples, the divorced couples, the middle aged singles, the seniors, etc., etc. and the glue that used to hold the church together is missing.

Do you recall the scripture I quoted earlier?  Acts 1:8   "You shall be My witnesses."

Ever been to court?  Ever been required to appear as a witness?  If you have you ought to recall the bailiff instructing you that you are to "...tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,"  You are help accountable for what you saw and often, just your opinion of what you had seen>

Therein is the real problem.  If there were witnesses going out from all of the churches we have in virtually every city and town in our country, into the community, telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, we would see the change that I would have to believe Dr. Crouse is seeking.

The word isn't in the Bible, at least those that I own.  It is accountability.  And it flows from the highest point to even "the least of these" - the subjects of the report I mentioned in the beginning of this article.  But why should we?  The article explains it in Biblical terms - "the fields are ripe for harvest."

The Problems with the Church IV

Every time I turn around it seems, I come face-to-face with the problems that appear to infest the Church, the "body of Christ" as many among us would proclaim.

Today, it was an established executive with a well known publishing corporation that specializes in ministry books and pamphlets  He titled his "blog" - Saints on the Lonely Walk of Faith.

Now I probably would not have had anything to say if he had used a word like "frustrating" or "confusing" as - in my opinion,  there is much to be said about the frustration in the church and that many of its followers are confused by what they observe along the way.

But lonely, I'm sorry but after walking in faith for the past thirty-nine years - as of last Monday, the only loneliness I have found has been a figment of my own imagination.  It will be eight months tomorrow since my beloved wife passed away and I hurt, oh, how I hurt for awhile.  Then I would discover that her family who had always professed love for me during our marriage, no longer even cared for me.  I started to wait impatiently for their calls, at times hoping they might stop by to visit, but it would never happen.  One morning, I woke up to a feeling that I was all alone in a city I hardly knew and loneliness appeared to be an option.

Then, I opened my Bible for a word of comfort and there it was, Jesus' words, "I will ask the Father and He will give you another helper, that He may be with you forever, that is the spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive, because it does not behold Him, or know Him, but you know Him because He abides with you and will be in you.  (John 14:16-17)

The "He" of course was the Holy Spirit, the one with whom I had wrestled for awhile, confused by those who were fervently teaching about Him and eagerly employing the "magic" of speaking in tongues.  It sounded good, but it didn't work for me as they said it would work until that fateful evening as I sat between two sisters with a problem that they insisted I had caused.  One would say I had done "this" and the other would insist I had done "that" and I did not understand either claim.  Finally, I suggested we pray and they led and each fervently pleaded their case to the Father and I sat there amazed as what they were claiming in their prayers was not the same as when their voices were raised against me.  I started to pray, asking the Father to give me the words to say and to my amazement, the words that came out of my mouth were intelligible at best.  I started to stop and they urged me to continue as there were tears falling across  their faces and then, they got up from their seats and came and fell at my feet.

What had happened?  One thing that had actually happened was that both of these dear friends were now asking me to forgive them, while in my heart-of-hearts, I needed them to forgive me.  We made our amends quickly and would go on our separate ways.  It was not long afterwards that I received another job offer in another city and we would never meet again, at least here on earth.

I kept asking, what had actually happened, did I really speak in tongues, and it would be years before I would have that experience again.  What does it mean to me?  It means that God is true to His word, He had sent another helper and on occasion, He has demonstrated His power over my tongue.

But that it not the important past.  Awakening from my concerns that I host lost my dear wife and her references to me that I had been, her "rock", I began to fill my life with an understanding that I needed to get on with my life.  I forgave those who had confused me by their actions and I have to believe that it is God who reminds me to pray for each of them, daily.  They might not care.  I know, He cares.

Arising from the suggestion of loneliness I asked God to show me what to do on a daily basis, He has led me to uncover people waiting to express their love for others by loving me.

I would remind my friend that the walk of faith is not a lonely walk, but one filled with the promises we can find throughout the scriptures and all we are required to do is act on them.

I am reminded that on the streets where we each live, the houses were filled with people who need to know the truth that sets us free and the joys we will experience as we grasp the realities in His promises.

It will soon be my 85th birthday, God willing, and I am reminded of another old man's voice who I met within days of my "conversion".  He and the others were singing a song that lifted my spirit with these words, "It gets sweeter and sweeter as the days go by, oh, what a love between my Lord and I."  I went over to see him as the services ended and asked, "Are those words that you were singing true to you?"

"Yes, son," he replied, "It gets even sweeter than that."   And so it has been in my life.

Watching the heavens....

One the eve of what many among us refer to as Good Friday, I am prompted to write about the response to an event that has happened in the heavens earlier in the week.  Perhaps, you have already heard of the Blood Moon and been made aware of its significance to some.

On Monday evenings, I have been attending a GriefShare meeting at a local church and as I had parked my car and headed for the door, I noticed the couple who monitor the class, parked near the entrance and they let me know the doors were locked.  We would have to wait for someone to open them.  As the man and I were standing outside, he asked me if I had heard of the Blood Moon and I said I had - many times over the years.  He was really excited as he and his wife had been watching a well known TV pastor talking of the significance of this phenomenon.  Well, I had heard that particular Pastor many times over the years and no longer watch him as most of the predictions he had made in that time had turned out to be figments of his imagination.

Fortunately, they came to open the door so I was not able to continue with my opinion as the two were very serious Christians I had come to love for the experiences they shared with our class.  And since I loved them, I was not about to comment on the voice they had been listening to.

I only wished they could have been in church on Wednesday evening as the Pastor assigned to that service went to great lengths to detail the history of "blood" moons over the years.  He detailed the history of the Jewish people with reference to this phenomenon, but also pointed out, the rich history of the Jewish religion that focused on signs and moons that govern their rituals.  He did a very good job and I pray that those who were listening took that information seriously.  After all, the nation of Israel and our own nation are allied together.  We are brothers and sisters in our faith in God.

Last evening, I came upon an article in the New York Times on this subject, noting that, in certain circles, this rare appearance was seen as the "Start of Something Big".  And that was certainly the impression of the friends I referred to earlier.  The article refers to the impression that religious TV is repeating the stories that seem to be rampant in many churches.  Stories of "killer" viruses, planetary power failures, nuclear wars and of course, the Rapture.

Shades of the recently departed, Harold Camping. and of Robert Fitzpatrick, the man who wasted away his life's savings on signs posted in the New York City's subway systems, warning of the "greatest ever earthquake" scheduled for a day certain in May.

Why do we seem to delight in repeating these stories?  I have an answer and you may not want to hear it, but my trust is not in stories, even those that might make me think twice about the welfare of my family and my children, in particular.  The Bible I read states specifically that "This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it."  (Psalm 118:24)

To me the whole thing is intriguing, not by the claims, but by our response to them.  I am not one of those who goes about quoting scripture - I had to look up the source of the earlier Bible verse, but my life is not based on the teachings, even the warnings of others.  Putting your trust in the words of men and women who seem to delight in the warnings they have discovered in the Bible or elsewhere, is very much like the fears that come about when one first hears the roar of an ocean or cowers whenever a bad storm hits the area where they live.  Of course, people drown in the ocean and some are blown away in violent storms, but we need to examine the latent power of our belief systems.

It has been centuries since Jesus the man walked on this earth, but He left behind words of comfort in the storms of life and joy in the face of adversity.  It took me almost forty-five years to learn that basic truth, but He created in me a faith that endures, regardless of what I might hear from others, even when such words might come from a pulpit.  Now as I am approaching my fortieth anniversary of embracing that faith, I rejoice at what I have learned to believe and better yet, the courage to walk in it.

Another day, another senseless killing

I have to assume you have heard about it, or read about, or heard a friend, neighbor perhaps, someone you know offering their opinion on the shooting in Kansas City, at a Jewish retreat center.

I watched the news this morning and came away with this thought - as usual, the media has assessed the situation and came up with their own answers to the inevitable question, why?  Why?  Why not?  The shooter has an established record of being what we like to call, a neo-Nazi.  You know - an offspring of those who followed Adolph Hitler into World War II.  Not many of us are alive to remember those days,  I happen to be fortunate enough to have been one of those who remembered and still, tremble.

I was intrigued by the feeling that none of the reporters looked on this guy as a murderer.  After all, he shot his victims down in broad day light, murdered them as they were going about a daily routine.  Now of course, we are going to have an extended period of time while the lawyers and the psychiatrists tell us what they believe we need to know about murdering and, murderers.

I have listened to their thoughts and have evaluated them against the lives of the three murderers I have personally known in my life time.  Actually, there were four, but one was the father of a class mate of mine in grammar school and I really didn't know him as well as I knew his sons.  He killed one of them only because the boy wanted to join the Army and the father apparently feared that he might be sent to Germany and kill their cousins, or others related to the family.  He would eventually die in prison.

The other three, on the other hand, were - at one time, or have become close friends of mine.  The first one I met on a troopship headed for Japan as I occupied the top bunk in an eight tiered arrangement.  He slept below me and the fellow he would eventually kill, slept opposite from us in the adjoining tier. Most of us on that ship were little more than kids, some of whom we got to know better than others on the thirty-one days we spent at sea, from New York harbor, through the Panama Canal and eventually debarking in Yokohama, Japan.  From there, we were "distributed" throughout Japan; the three of us happened to be stationed at the same air base, North of Tokyo.  As raw recruits, we were assigned to our different squadrons depending on our job assignment.  I went one way, they went another. Eventually, I would be transferred to another base on the island of Kyushu.

Then one day, I heard the horrifying news.  The fellow who had slept under me on the transport ship had slit the throat and killed the man who had been his buddy.  It happened as he had broken into the base PX - expecting to steal a camera, and he was met by the other who had been sleeping there to ward off thieves.  He slit his throat and left him to die.  Eventually, he met a courts-marshal and was sentenced to death by hanging.  General MacArthur had mercy on him and changed the sentence to life in prison.  Before he was returned to the States, I had an opportunity to visit with him and really did not recognize him as the bright eyed kid who loved to tease the rest of us and spent his time, telling jokes.

We would eventually meet again, but that is an episode in my life that needs more explanation than is available today.

The next guy I met had just been released from prison after having been convicted for the murder of two women who had been working for him in South Florida.  He was a very intelligent young man and I would learn that he had been earlier convicted of a daring jewel theft when he was little more than a teenager.  I was to be his counselor, but then he was moved out of the place where we were living and I only saw him on occasion.  I was told he was to be considered, privileged.  There were all sorts of rumors about him, but I saw him as a bright young man with great potential.  He demonstrated this by becoming an evangelist with the people who had helped to get him out of prison.

Finally, I was to meet a young black guy on "death row" in Nashville for the murder of a drug dealer in his home town.  I was merely visiting at the request of a fellow member of the church we both attended.
Michael was a fascinating young man, given his background where he was fathered by a "visitor" and left to be raised by his mother who had other children to raise in a neighborhood where "opportunity" was little more than a buzz word for the white folks in that community.  For the most part, Michael was raised on the streets and eventually, there was an offer for drugs, a pistol, and confusion that would lead to the murder of a man suspected to be a drug dealer.  The police had two boys in custody and they offered "life" to the one who "ratted" on the other.  Michael lost and was sentenced to death.

Then, God intervened in the form of a Pastor visiting the prison and shared with Michael, the truly good news of the plan of God for redemption.  Although Michael was poorly schooled, he heard the offer and was determined to be able to read and write, skills that he now possesses that are a tribute to the fact that if you really are motivated to move towards the "good" life, you can.  I happen to be a college graduate and if others might dare to suggest I am a scholar, I like to tell them about Michael.  The good news is that the death sentence has been removed and he is now eligible for parole.

Three men, three very "wise" men have visited me in my life and each has inspired me to greater things in life than to waste it away, talking about my college degree.

What they have inspired me to do is expound on the grace of God that I have witnessed in the lives of these three visitors and others along the way.  I will admit that have I wasted a lot of my life away chasing dreams of one kind or another, none of which have lifted me to the place in life I now enjoy.

When the Bible teaches about the so-called "prodigal" son, it is like His opening my eyes to my own life.

And today, I think about the poor demented soul sitting in a jail in Kansas City.  He is not alone.  There are thousands of jail cells throughout our nation, filled with people who have lost their way in life and their only "product" in life has been the confusion they spread along the way.  And we don't help our own cause as we seem satisfied to affix labels to them and move on - until the next murder.    

Some blame it on the guns.  Others claim it is the lack of an effective education.  And there are those who want us to believe it is because the church has failed in its authentic teaching.

For all of these, I would suggest they look into the mirrors that have framed their lives.  I know because I have had many opportunities to follow my own advice.  Having done so, I share my experiences.

The Christian Life - the truth

A fellow asked me the other day, "Where did you get your title for a blog?" and the first thing I did was to wonder why he was asking me this question.  You have to know, I have provoked a few people with talk about my view of Christianity and I had to wonder, "Am I being set up for something more than just an innocent question?"  Believing him to be sincere, my only response had to be, I write because I have been really privileged to live a long life, have been abundantly blessed by God and I want others to know about it.  And while I am it, I need to quote the scripture that changed my life.  You will find it in the gospel of John, chapter 10, verse 10: "The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy.  I come that they might have life and have it - abundantly."

With that said, you need to know I will be turning to it more and more as we go along.

I was all set to remind you of an incident that happened a few years ago when I was interrupted by word of a new book, actually, a book that was new to me.  Its title made me think of the title I use for this blog, "A Life Well Lived".  It;s author, Leonard Sweet, is a Pastor who has written others and can be found on the Internet by using his name, followed by .com.

And when I hear about a book, before rushing out to purchase it, I go to www.amazon.com, type in the title of the book and click on the title when it comes up.  That leads me to the book reviews and I read what others have to say.  Here is part of one review, entered by a UMC Pastor:

"Sweet points out that somewhere along the way, humanity forgot how to play – or at least relegated it to the life of a child. Life became about pursuing a 5-year plan rather than an eternal Promise; following rules and regulations rather than chasing relationships; avoiding learning from mistakes to striving to never make a mistake at all. We have been so focused on successfully knowing/following God’s ‘plan’ for our lives (and in our churches) that we have forgotten how to enjoy God in every aspect of life."

Therein lies the reason I have for the title of my blog.  I have made lots of mistakes and through them all, I have found God to be the more perfect answer to all, each and every one of them.  He has taught me to be faithful - full of faith, as that is His nature.

Now, back to what I started out to write.  Yesterday, Katie interviewed a woman you may not know.  You certainly have heard of her husband as he was the demented soul who entered an Amish school house in Pennsylvania and eventually, murdered five of the children before turning the gun on himself.  According to the testimony of his wife, there was nothing wrong on that morning.  He hugged and kissed his wife and their three children and left for work.

But there was something wrong.  Deep in his psyche he apparently harbored the loss of their first child who was dead as an infant.  She thought that they had worked through that dreadful experience and were pleased by the three healthy, wholesome children that followed.  Obviously, he had not.

You can read all about those years - and those hours, in a book she has written and is now on sale in our bookstores.  The title:  "One Light Still Shines, My Life Beyond the Shadows of the Amish Schoolhouse Shooting".

I could tell you more about her testimony, but to me, the part i will never forget came about shortly after the shooting.  She had moved in with her family and was looking out of the window one morning when she noticed Amish elders walking toward the house.  Her father went to greet them and learned that they were there to express their condolences to the widow and offer their help to her as time moved on.  You will have to read the book to understand all that transpired in that meeting.

Tears came to my eyes as I recalled the many times while driving through this area and would come upon one of the Amish horse drawn buggies and wondered how they could live in the world that is so independent of the "machinery" we require for our existence.  I have gone to their roadside markets to buy fresh produce and noticed how efficient they were in carrying out each transaction.  More often than not, there were no smiles, no words of greeting, just commercial exchanges.

I have visited their homes - on display, and often wondered, could I live in this world that they appear to be so content to eke out an existence?  I have read of the youngsters who have left it to find whatever it was they were seeking in the "outside" world and often, the "shunning" that followed such occasions.  I remember visiting a factory in Pennsylvania when an associate made a foolish comment to the receptionist and within a half hour, the whole plant shut down, waiting for an apology.  The receptionist was the daughter of the plant foreman.

And I will never forget the hearts of the kin folk of those who were murdered came to express their sympathy to the family and the wife of the murderer.

You have heard this before, you will hear it again, the wisdom of my grandfather who taught me these words long before I would ever understand the thoughts, "God moves in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform, He plants His footsteps in the sands and rides upon the storm."

I have this to ask of others, those who seem to enjoy debating their knowledge of the Bible versus the knowledge of others, how often have you walked up to the houses where those others live and inquire if there was any way you could serve their needs?

Listen, listen to who is speaking - and why!

Good morning!  Busy morning for me as I just realized I am about to run out of some of my "meds" and there are two doctor's offices involved.  I don't know about you, but I still have not become accustomed to recordings and you have to leave a message, hoping they will respond properly.  So, I have started this morning on high hopes!!!

And I promised myself I would introduce you to someone who has me excited about the word of God and how it really ought to be interpreted by those of us who have placed our trust in our Lord.  She is a real lady who has been through the kinds of struggles in her personal life that makes too many of us give up hoping.  That is not her testimony, but it is mine.  I still weep when I know what has happened or is happening in the lives who give up, give in, too soon.

OK, here goes... her name is Beth Moore and she can be "heard" through her blog and that address is: http://blog.lproof.org.   She has a web site at "livingproof.com.

I have never met her in person, but she has appeared on James Robinon's program - over TBN and others, I assume.  I have known of James for many years and - at first, I was really angry about the way he was preaching.  Now, however, he seems to have repented and with his beautiful wife, they are living witnesses of the power of God to change lives for all who will listen,

Speaking of the power of God, I witnessed it again last evening - at church.  In my "heart of hearts" I weep over the direction of the messages I hear coming from many churches.  Not my church, the church worldwide.  Yes, I know of the "good works" being delivered to those in need in many faraway places and even here in our cities and towns across America.  But it appears to me that we are being torn apart by voices that demand we will all bow down to their interpretation of the Bible.  I don't understand it. Over the last forty years, I have read my own Bible cover to cover many times, so often that I dare not believe otherwise.  But there are those that will take their interpretation of what they have read and use it against others they do not even know and want the rest of us to believe they understand what Jesus meant when He said, "By this all will know you are My disciples, if you love one another.  (John 13:35)  Note the italics.  All will know, if you love one another.  In another verse, He talks about laying down our lives as evidence of our love for Him. 

And please note, all - in Jesus' times, still means all today and forever.  Then there is that little word, if.  A friend of mine, many years ago insisted that it is the word - if, that we find implanted in another word that ought to mean everything to us, the word life.  Think about that for a moment.

I still can not understand why brothers and sisters who claim to love God and agree to love one another are so intent on believing that others are going to Hell, just because everyone does not agree with their interpretation of the words and meaning of words written thousands of years ago.

Then the Pastor referred us to the verses starting with Luke 15:25.  It concerns the return of the prodigal son and the Father's immediate acceptance of his return, in spite of the life he had been living.

Everything seemed to working out well until the scriptures reveal another side of the story.  Verse 29 records the words of the other son... "Look, for so many years I have been serving you and I have never neglected a command of yours, and yet you have never given me a kid that I might be merry with my friends. but when this (other) son of yours, who has devoured your wealth with harlots, you killed the fattened calf for him."

Reminds me of pages from the American history books I have read over the years.  We are privileged to live in a land dedicated to the One who we want to call our Creator, but the history books reveal the fact that we have not always been God fearing people.  First it was the Indians who inhabited their lands that we confiscated and how did we treat them?  Then along came the emigrants, many of whom were rejected out of hand and how did we treat them?  Then, we divided our own selves and fought a war that still rages in the minds of some.  We continued to insist those who were "freed" in that war must live as second-class citizens until we changed our laws.  And of course, there was the way we treated our mothers, our wives and our daughters in the workplace until we began to come to our senses and do what was right for all of us.

Now, we are faced with an even greater challenge and as has happened throughout our history, we will either change or we will be forced to change by others and - in my opinion, by the One who spoke so eloquently, so many years ago, "By this, all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."

It was on May 12, 1975 that I asked God what He meant by the word, repent.  (Matthew 4:17) and to my amazement, my mind was suddenly filled with reminders of those years when I was angry because I did not have a Father like my friends, nor the nice clothes that others wore, and there was more, much more.  With those thoughts overwhelming my mind, I began to realize that I had reasons to repent, many reasons and I did.  From that moment on, my life has been blessed over and over and over again and yes, there have been hard times - in my mind.  But my heart clung - and still clings, to the realization that there is a God and in spite of my foolishness at times, He still loves me and blesses me.

It's like that old song from many, many years ago, "Every body ought to know, every body ought to know, every body ought to know, who Jesus is.   He's the lily of my valley, He's my bright and shiny star, He's the fairest of ten thousand, every body ought to know."

February 27, 2014

Yesterday, I talked about Tom Friedman's article in the NY Times and based on the response I received, not many of you were that interested.  Hate to realize that as the column was meant to alert friends to the realities of the world in which we live.   Remember folks, it is our responsibility.

I had the same thoughts as I read Albert Mohler's response to the times in which we live in an address to the Mormon church.  Oh, if only I could discover what prompted this relationship.  For those who do not know who Reverend Mohler is, he currently is the President of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, located in Louisville, KY.  As such, he speaks for the overwhelming number of Southern Baptists in our nation and more importantly, our Baptist friends and neighbors.

He starts his speech with these intriguing words, "I come as one who does not share your theology."

I do not care to demean the man, but it seems to me, the fact that our "theology" is divided should not be laid at the feet of others as he reveals - at least to me, that they have - perhaps, intentionally, divided the body of Christ, as it is, here today.  He warns the Mormons that "we had better talk with candor and
urgency.

Then he drags out old Karl Marx who is reported to have said, "...the modern age would sweep all conventional morality and political structures aside in a complete transformation of values."  If we have studied history, most of us realize that Marx died and was buried and most of this thoughts about the future were interred along with his body.

Based on his reference to Marx, he recalls Aleksandr Solzhenisyn, a more renowned Russian, who reminded us that, "Men have forgotten God."  Actually, even that is little more than a half truth as women have also forgotten God, and because men and women form families, children and grand children have forgotten God.

I grew up in a family where my grandfather and grandmother knew God and lived out their lives in such a belief.  From my earliest days, we attended church and there were various Pastors who would come to serve our country church, but it was not the person of a Pastor, but the words of the Bible they heard in his messages that inspired them to live out their lives.  It was their example that instilled in me a belief in God.  When I left their home to join the military, I kept right on attending chapel, but now I might be listening to men who may have opened their Bibles, but the words in their sermons often led me to explore thoughts that later I would learn, were not inspired by the Bible.  And in the decades that followed, I would discover that more often than not, I would be listening to personal opinions rather than the eternal truths found in the Bible.

Then. Dr. Mohler turns to his belief that there are the elites who are more "classically secularized" and lays the blame for our short comings on plans developed for European ears and the ages old cliche, the American Universities.

Nothing troubles me more than such accusations.  As a University graduate myself and as one who has earned my living as a personnel recruiter, I have interviewed thousands of university graduates in my life and the numbers of those who have been corrupted by liberalism has been insignificant.

On the other hand, I have also interviewed hundreds upon hundreds of "street" people who have told me of the "divisions" in their lives that were primarily caused by a church that dictated their life styles
and demanded allegiance to the words being "parroted" by their families.  Sadly, so that many could not return home in a manner such as  the Bible teaches in the parable of the prodigal Son, but continue living, never knowing of the lesson in love that is the foundation of that parable.

It wasn't long before he turned to the 50 million American babies aborted since the passage of Roe vs. Wade in 1973.  No one grieves more for the enormity of this tragedy than I do as I near my 85th birth date, but I have yet to see an analysis of this problem that reveals that the huge majority of the abortions involved young people who now realize they have made an enormous mistake.  That fact is that the overwhelming numbers of these young women have never heard what the Bible actually says about - loving one another as a lifestyle.  I could spend hours debating the fact that "Roe v. Wade" is not the cause for blame, but another example of the failure of the Church to teach their followers the whole truth to be learned by STUDYING the Bible, taught by those who have EXPERIENCED the truths to be discovered.

We should not be surprised to learn that Dr. Mohler would turn his attention to the faults of the United Nations.  Obviously, he has never studied the differences between those nations who represent people who have experienced the freedoms enjoyed by the more prosperous and those that are led by leaders whose appetites for personal prestige and rewards far exceed any interest in the dignity of the general population.  But then, he obviously stands among the elites of the nations whose only real concerns for the disadvantages of others is their labor while extracting their resources.

I could go and on and on concerning this speech, but that would be wasting your time and mine.  If I had the opportunity, I would love to walk through the Bible with Dr. Mohler, from the days of Joshua to what we know as the New testament and show him how he has misinterpreted the words of God, as expressed by those called by His name.

And I leave you with this apology I will offer to Dr. Mohler for not saying what I really would like to say to him as I believe he is one of those leading us to the future he fears.