Monthly Archives: December 2016

Trust and Obey…

 

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Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea And a path through the mighty waters, “Do not remember the former things, Nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness And rivers in the desert.” – Isaiah 43:16,18-19

 

“Trust and obey, there’s no other way,” goes the old hymn. The word “Trust,” is something that is probably the more difficult of the two commands mentioned in the song. Its definition, “reliance on the veracity, integrity, or other virtues of someone or something; religious faith,” from Old Norse traust “help, confidence, protection, support.”[1] Trust is a word that confides in our ability to depend upon something greater than ourselves, and as such, is often difficult to understand or appreciate when it comes to fruition.

In the last year, I have been witness to everything from loss of loved ones to the utterly inexplicable. I’ve felt the presence and heard the voice of heavenly beings, more than once. In that timeframe, the path upon which seemed to be my true calling suddenly took an unexpected turn, altering the course of everything I had come to know and trust, into a wilderness where only faith could sustain a being. Again and again, I sought protection and support from the only place I knew; the Word of God.

He never let me down.

Living between one’s past and the future allows for reflection and projection, something else I experienced in the span of 2016. While still moving a farm from one place to another, we continued to settle into the life that was new, serving at the Trail of Faith. There at the Trail I found more and more calling to help those in need, those seeking God, and guidance from a place that was so aptly named. There I learned how to pray over those making their pilgrimages to a place they had only read about. Some had studied up to the point they came wanting to gain a better perspective, to walk the literal trail of faith. Each time, each new visitor, I found God teaching and leading me in ways I had never thought possible. There were the discoveries of new friendships and with those, a new feeling of trust in knowing that serving Him was the right path.

Then in the midst of what seemed to be the perfect path, my father became gravely ill. Once again I was reminded of those Godly circumstances that provided me the ability to see him before he passed. There is no greater gift than knowing God had given you the chance to hug your mother one last time, or to kiss your father goodbye, but each step of the way, that was my blessing. As I walked out of that hospital room, I knew we’d not see each other until we reach that Glory land above, and so it was. On our way home from the funeral, my sister and I received confirmation that all was right when we saw the most unbelievable, color-filled, double rainbow like none we had ever seen before in our lives.

Another blessing, another circumstance unexplained.

Even while those daily life lessons were being served, both good and sorrowful, He was at work on the next road into a wilderness not yet imagined. Every time my family would ask questions as to how, when, and where, I would ask them to patient and wait, for in time, all of their concerns would be answered. It was in these moments, soon after their questions, I found myself alone with Him, praying and listening for more.

There were times of darkness that filled us with doubt. In the waiting, there was learning. It was all part of the path that was chosen; each subject to the other.

Yet, each time He spoke, I listened. Each time I asked, He answered.

There were was the day we didn’t have enough money to buy food until the next paycheck, and with only a half-a-gallon of milk left in the fridge at the house, I silently asked God for help as I went to the Trail to open up that morning. There was nobody else that new our dire straits; nobody else had been told how close we were to going hungry; nobody. As I opened the door, there sitting on the podium as I walked in was a single white envelope with my name scratched on it, almost illegible. I picked it up, curiously and opened it. Tears filled my eyes as I dropped to my knees.

There inside was $40 cash.

God once more answered prayer.

Knock and the door will be opened, ask and yea shall receive.”

This was just one of many Godsends that we experienced as we learned to trust and obey. Brothers and sisters from all over came to our time aid in our time of need, again and again. This in itself was difficult to understand and accept. We had to learn a whole new paradigm of life, how to receive.

Continually each day, prayers would be lifted up for guidance. One specific prayer that seemed to go unanswered was for Him to find someone to buy our old farmstead. But like all things asked for, one must consider God’s time. For us, in what seemed an eternity but in reality was blinding speed, our home of over twenty years finally sold. It was a bittersweet memory, even now. Looking back, it was when things began to move faster than one could conceive; at God-speed.

In a blinding fury, we cleaned, mowed, and moved the last vestiges of a lifetime in a matter of two weeks. We had moved from the reflection to the immediate. As things began to move along, we still didn’t know where we would finally end up living.

Prayers continued to be lifted up, for we still were housed in a temporary shelter, we affectionately called, “The Shack.”

Then one day we found ourselves driving toward the area of West Lenoir, I wondered why. Deep inside it felt right even though it didn’t seem logical at the time. After all, we had been through; I knew it was a God thing. Again, His will would be done in time. There, through one unbelievable circumstance after another, we found a new home that would soon be our next step in the journey. There too we found new friends that would someday become our neighbors, as well as a brother and sister in Christ.

Something else I learned through the course of the year, unbelievable circumstances are more easily called “Miracles.” In all honesty, we are afraid to use the “M” word for fear of non-believers accusing us of believing in fantasy. “If they could only see what I’ve seen,” I think to myself, “then it wouldn’t be such a stretch of the imagination.”

After the sale of our farm and the purchase of our new home, we had moved from the reflection into the projection of time.

Then came the closing of the door we never saw coming. The loss of funding for my position at the Trail, and then the search for the next “What.” For nearly ten years of my last 23 years at Nortel/Genband, I had feared losing my job and to have to find a new one. We never thought it would happen after we had given everything up to live for our new life.

But alas, here we were.

Faith took on a whole new level of trust.

Once more, when it seemed like all would be lost, the unbelievable transpired. After three weeks of looking for jobs, filling out an untold number of applications, there had not been one phone call, not one interview. One morning I awoke to scripture that read, “Today will be the end of your suffering, your trials will cease today.” That afternoon came the first phone call. Then in a matter of 24 hours, God speed once again took over. Before I knew it, I had two job offers and was quickly hired as a High School Math Teacher in Boone, NC. His plan had been fulfilled.  The realization dawned on me that the move to our new home’s location allowed for a commute to the new job that was manageable instead of inconceivable. God’s hand was in it every step of the way.

In the beginning, the story seemed like I was moving to a place where I could share God’s word from the mountain; the mountain being the Trail. Before I knew it, I was serving Him from the mountain top, but in a way, I had never imagined.  

Every day, new doors open to places I never saw coming. Each day I pray for strength, guidance, and wisdom. Every day God answers prayer.

God will make rivers through the deserts and roads through the wilderness if only we trust in Him.

It has been a year of untold highs and lows, but in the end, it has been a year of serving our Lord, and for that, I couldn’t ask for more.

Thanks be to God.

[1] “Online Etymology Dictionary – http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=trust

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The Tail of a Tale…

Along many trails and paths, I have crossed in my time. Along each trek, there is a special anticipation of what is just around the next bend, a longing to push onward. Someone once said to me that you could only see as far as the next point on the horizon, and once you make it to that point, you can see a little bit farther, to the next point if you will. Some days are like that, finding myself having reached a point that was once a distant speck from that far away vantage point. In that instance, seeing and knowing become one.

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Today, our family cat whom we call “Sky,” journeyed along with me on my walk. Unlike the day before, he was more reluctant than usual. Before we had come to the point of leaving the forest into the first opening of the trail he stopped and decided to stay behind. Knowing I was going at a faster pace than the previous day, I was fine with that and figured since I was returning on the same trail, that I would catch him on the way home.

Overhead, the clouds loomed low obscuring the distant peaks of Grandfather, shrouding him in a blanket of white. All around me, the drops of rain danced on the fallen leaves which abound on the forest floor. My breath was labored, and I soon found that I had not healed from the recent chest cold as my progress slowed to a crawl. It was much later than I had planned by the time I returned to the point Sky and I had parted ways.

He was nowhere to be found.

He’s a cat,” I told myself, “and he will surely find his way back home.”

So I slowly and weakly made my way up the trail and back to the house, sweating and breathing much too heavily for what was my normal routine. Sitting heavily, but thankfully in the porch chair, I began to remove my boots, grateful to be back home. But there was someone missing; Sky was still not home.

He’ll find his way,” again I reassured myself.

My thoughts flashed back to another time on a winter’s day. We had been blasted with a wave of blizzards in the Midwest. The landscape looked like the frozen tundra, not southern Indiana. It became an adventure just to go out and walk the fence rows, and ditch banks, places that were once of little interest took on a whole new image as giant fissures and massive snow banks turned a once boring landscape into a winter play land. On one such day, I took out with the family dog, Missy, on an afternoon exploration. We had gone over a mile along fence rows and ditches, exploring tunnels and all manner of ice formations when we happened upon a bubbling creek. Missy was a beautiful Collie-Shepherd mix that loved to explore as much as her owner, so we were having the time of our lives when suddenly are adventure took a turn for the worse. The snap of the steel on her leg scared me as much as it did her. I hadn’t realized the creek we were wading in was also the trapping line for the local farmer who was also collecting pelts to help subsidize his income. My dog’s screams and yelps tore through my heart as I raced to free her from the pain.

Again, my mind flashed back to another time in my life when I was much younger and caught in a similar predicament. It was the back alley of our little town of New Harmony. I had befriended a stray dog, and I was throwing a ball for him in the alleyway behind my grandparents family diner, The Heritage Trail Restaurant. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the dog began screaming for help. His back leg had gotten caught in the street drain. Unthinking, I reached for him wanting to help pull him out. The dog acted on instinct and reached for anything that he could use to leverage his body from the clutches of steel; my hand. The shredding of my pinky was instantaneous and blinding in pain. The dog bolted around the corner leaving me shaken and scared. Blood immediately began running down my arm as I tried to wrap it up in my sweatshirt. Fearful I would get in trouble for playing with a stray, I never told anyone. I snuck in the back door of the restaurant and cleaned up the wound in the abandoned dish sink. It was late afternoon, and everyone was on break and away from their posts, which is why I wasn’t found out. I was lucky I never contracted rabies or any other disease. God once again watched over me when I needed Him most.

All that flashed through my head as I headed toward Missy trying to soothe her before I reached to her with my hands, even if they were gloved. Fortunately, having learned my lesson, I first reached toward her with a stick. She was nothing like the stray and wanted only for me to help her leg as she stopped and stood still as if she knew what had to be done. Pulling the jaws of steel apart long enough for her to retract her injured limb, it was in the blink of an eye, and she was free. Sadly I watched as she limped on three legs, trying to hold the injured limb above the snow and hop. Knowing we had a long way to get back home, I couldn’t let her go on that way and picked her up. She weighed at least 50lbs. at the time. I wasn’t much more and maybe weighed all of 100lbs myself. Slowly and painfully, I carried that dog until my arms were like lead. We had traveled within 100 yards of the house when I finally collapsed from exhaustion. Missy sat for a minute with me in the snow, me panting and her curious. She licked my face and then much to my amazement, jumped up and ran the rest of the way back to the house ahead of me. There was no sign of any injury or hurt leg after all. I had been hornswoggled by a dog.

This evening, as darkness began to creep up the holler, there was still no Sky back at the house. Others became worried and urged me to please find him.

Fearful that he might not make it home before dark, I headed back down the trail calling for him as I went. The light of day was fading quickly. My path made it all the way to the stables and back, but still no cat. Slowly as I passed our initial point of separation, I began calling and listening. My mind remembered Missy and how I had been humorously tricked before but now it seemed the cat was truly missing. A few more steps and calling I saw the white blur in the darkness before me dash in my direction; it was Sky. My heart warmed at his sight.

He was still not far from where we had been earlier in the day, and he was more than happy to have me pick him up and hold him close.

I carried him all the way back to the house and gladly placed him on top of his little home on our porch.

We were both happy to be back.

I had seen once before and now, knew from the past what to expect. Yes, I had gone farther in many aspects, but knowing from whence we came is just as important. In all that we do, we are never alone; God is with certainly with us, watching and smiling.

As darkness surrounded our little home in the mountains, Sky gladly curled up in his house, and I in mine, safe and sound for another day.

Thanks be to God.

 

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Every Season has a Meaning…

He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.”-Matt 10:39

The mountains are shrouded by a thick blanket of clouds today. Grandfather remains hidden like an ancient being wrapped up in his winter blankets; protected from all harm, safe but unseen. Water drips from the leaves as the river now runs with fully bodied spirit over the rapids that just a few weeks ago barely made a trickling sound.

Shards of dark earth lie in rows of the fields of upturned soil. The gentle rain flows deep into the crevices, soothing the parched earth that seldom finds the touch of rain. All around us somber earth tones match the mood of the sky above; winter is now upon us in full season.

sod

In my mind’s eye, I’m standing down the hill from the old farmhouse, looking back up the hill from whence I came. Images that were never apparent until now suddenly reveal themselves. Unlike the front of the home, from behind we can see all of the genuineness of the life of those who live within; the clothesline where the wash will be hung, the burning barrel where the trash will be burnt, and finally the back porch where everything from the deep freezer to the canning table sits, awaiting the next growing season. Here, the real work of life goes on, out of sight. Like the soil, until the blade of the bottom plow chisels into the

The Old Farmhouse outside New Harmony, Indiana, 1965.

The Old Farmhouse outside New Harmony, Indiana, 1965.

earth, causing an upheaval of sediment, the true work of the earth cannot be seen. The dirt folds over like the corners of the grandma’s quilt on the bed, rolling up the root-side of the dirt, exposing it to the elements. Meanwhile, the sod below begins to decay adding nutrients and building more compost for the future.

One layer must die so that the other may live.

We too are like these things, the soil and the farmhouse. What truly makes us who we are is what we are within; the part of us that cannot be seen from the outside. To reveal ourselves is to have the bottom plow cut us deep within and fold over our barriers we have created. Many fear revealing their true nature and only do so in short burst of often uncomfortable circumstances that they wish they could have prevented. Sin makes this possible, and since we are all sinners, each of us has this inner being with which we battle daily.  In essence, we are comprised of a triune being; body, soul, and spirit. (1Thess.5:23) The world and Satan try to affect us from the outside in, while God works on us from the inside out. He infuses us through our spirit. From the inside out we are changed when we truly accept Jesus Christ into our lives. Like the back of the farm house where the real work takes place, out of sight, inside us is where the actual work has to start. We have to choose to allow the Holy Spirit to come into our lives, so that from within, we will be filled with a new light, which then will begin to permeate into our soul, and eventually our body. The longer we walk with Christ, the more our whole being changes; our tastes, our likes, and how we physically seek pleasures in this world, knowing what is to come is even greater. One is never finished in this manner, as we are always a work in progress.

Like the soil, we must die to our former selves in order to live for Him. “He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.”-Matt 10:39 We cannot have the sinful pleasures of this world and still try to obtain sanctification. One cannot stand with one foot in sin and one in Christ. He is a jealous God and wants us all or nothing. So, we continually battle an enemy that never stops trying to make us fall. Hopefully, in time or by chance someone shares the opportunity to find and accept Christ into your life, it is then that you will come into the season of change.

For every season there is meaning and purpose.

The prayers we lifted for the life-giving rain have been answered. The fires are all out, and once more the forest begins to heal. Like the sod that has been turned for preparation for the next year’s growing season, we too have to decide in that season when to begin the life we lead.

Are you ready to get to work?

Eternity awaits your decision.

Thanks be to God.

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