Category Archives: Religion

by | April 18, 2017 · 10:14 pm

A Sunrise, An Easter, A Moment in Time…

Behind Floyd, which was how he had introduced himself to me, the sun began to cast its light upon the ball field. We sat under the shelter of the Athletic Park in Collettsville, not yet squinting, but rather listening intently to the words of the man before us. Pastor Floyd shared with us his past having ministered to many from behind the pulpit at the Berea Advent Christian Church, just across the river. He chuckled to think that probably half of Lenoir had been Baptized in that little river that flowed near where we sat. Behind us, the mountains rose like a giant backdrop to the scene below. The soft golden glow of the sun’s rays were just beginning to melt away the darkness of the night before on those lofty peaks. A few yards away, the echoes of the John’s River could be heard whispering through the trees, its watery pathway unabated, ever flowing. The weathered preacher’s voice had the sound of those old-timey stump evangelists who would travel their circuits, riding on horseback from one little country Church to the next. A twangy drawl with the hint of a nasal pitch that could easily wield the tenor’s spot in the choir. They would draw out certain syllables in order to make the phrase or point more poignant. Their sermons developed a melody of their own as they delivered God’s Word from one hollar to the next. They not only carried the Word of the Lord, but with them traveled the news of the day and the hope of a better tomorrow. It was a combination of two but separate worlds into one. The intertwining of mankind with the earth around us seemed fitting for this Easter morning; our Sunrise Service.

All around us, nature was waking up, acknowledging God’s call to rise. The birds sang in a chorus as the clear blue sky above seemed to ring out the peacefulness of the coming dawn. A slight chill in the air began to sink into one’s being causing one after another to reach for their jacket or sweater, pulling them a little closer around their necks. There was no breeze. The air was still, like the pause before the expectant event, the calm before the storm. His breath steamed in little puffs from his lips as he spoke. My mind drifted over the scriptures he preached about and from one to another, the thoughts seemed to settle. Again, and again, the words scorned the thought of those that would not believe. As we sat and welcomed the chastisement of those who refused to accept that Christ had risen, one couldn’t help to understand how so many, including those early believers had to accept the miracle that took place. For to believe, is to believe in the miracle of the risen Christ. Just as he had prophesized, and like so many before Him, all who had told of the coming Messiah. Yet, there would be those that would not accept his resurrection. So it is today.

Sometimes miracles are too improbable to accept. There must be a law that has been broken, an imparting of the natural, a suspension of belief, for if it were not so, then what has occurred should never have happened; a stone rolled away when it shouldn’t have been, the vision of the risen Christ before a multitude of people.

Yes, the empty tomb is just the beginning of our story.

As the pastor concluded his service, the sunshine began to reach through the trees in bright rays that still had not broken through the sleepy mist that shrouded the world around us. Its muted beams of light glowed upon all the faces around me, erasing age, and time. I paused in my breath as before me, the aged were anew, the affirmed were young once more, and there was no more sickness or sorrow. For a moment, as the break of dawn could be heard across that little valley, there was Heaven on earth.

A sparrow flew past, breaking the spell, and an Amen was spoken by all.

There are moments in time that one seldom dwells upon, but then there are those that one may never forget.

He is Risen, He is Risen Indeed.

Thanks be to God.

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by | April 15, 2017 · 5:58 pm

The Last Piece of Bread…

“30 Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-Luke 24:30

Sometimes we find ourselves rushing through this world, missing the blessings that exist before our very eyes. Then sometimes, we are lucky enough to catch that glimpse of something that appears to us which we seemingly cannot believe.

This past Thursday evening, I had just finished a day of testing my students in the last unit before Spring Break. The next day at school would be filled with fun activities that required very little in preparation. Outside the window, the sunshine and blue skies had beckoned all the day long. When my car finally pulled into our driveway, and I opened the door, the fresh air and sound of the woods enveloped me. There was something calling me. So as quickly as I could eat a bite, I found my walking stick, hat, and hiking shoes and set out the back door into the forest beyond.

My anticipation quickened my heartbeat matching those of my footsteps below.

When Mary reported back to the disciples that she had seen something at the tomb, Peter and John rushed out the door, their hearts beating nearly out of their chests. Their minds were ablaze with the impossibility; was He truly alive? Could Mary have been seeing things? Her fervent testimony left no doubt, so they ran onward. Their anticipation drove them faster. As they raced, memories of His teaching drifted back into their consciousness.

As my footsteps traveled along the cool, shadowed pathway, my mind wandered back to the previous week where a walk like this was a strain. I had been fighting a serious head cold, and it was nearly all I could do then to walk the new trail my friend Leroy wanted to show me. It was a wonderful walk along a continual waterfall that ran parallel to us. Opposite to the stream was a grove of Poplar trees. As we walked along, I couldn’t help trying to spy to see if there were any morels along the way. The undergrowth on the forest floor was nearly non-existent, which meant there was little hope of finding any of the precious little mushrooms during that day. From my experience hunting the elusive forest food, I knew that the lack of greenery usually meant it was too early I the season. Usually, they only grow in certain soils in particular weather just about this time each year. In other words, they are difficult to find.

Here I was a week later with the sun slowly setting. Time was running out. I hesitantly put the hopes of finding any morels this season to rest. It was more likely that it would be another year before we might be lucky enough to find them in the new area we call home; that’s just the way it would be.

John literally outran Peter, reaching the edge of the tomb. As he leaned against the round boulder that had the previous day covered the entrance to the crypt, he could smell the dampness of the inner chamber. His legs quivered with fear and excitement. “Was his Savior inside?” There was something that kept him from entering. Around the bend, he could hear the footsteps of Peter coming, yet he could not move. Was it fearing to find the brutally ravaged body of Christ that he dreaded to see once more? Was it the fear of a spirit he hastened to witness? It wasn’t until Peter rounded that curve and came into sight did his courage return.

Like so many of us that go into the world today to witness for Him, we fearfully stand outside the realm of those who need our words the most. We fall short of speaking to others the very thing they need most, the Truth. We cannot go it alone.

Onward I pushed, happy to be out in the sunshine and finally feeling more like myself. As I walked, I began lifting up prayers to God. Before long, I was being filled with his Holy Spirit. He was filling my mind with a multitude of things of which I couldn’t keep track. My cup was surely overflowing.

As the two disciples walked along the road to Emmaus, they were met with a stranger who joined them. They began speaking with him, and he opened their minds to all the scriptures. Even so doing, they did not realize it was Christ who was with them. They reached a point where they were to part with this new-found friend. Yet, so moved were they by his testimony that they kept him as the scriptures described, “But they constrained Him, saying, “Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.” And He went in to stay with them.”

Just as their minds were overflowing with the words of Jesus, they had yet to fully realize the implications of what they were experiencing.

As my feet trod, one in front of the other, I was nearly singing His praises when I rounded the bend and began an uphill trek. Raindrops started to fall. There had been mention of a possible shower, but not today. I looked toward the distant mountain tops and saw scattered dark clouds. I hastened my footsteps yet again. As my focused changed from spirituality to the now, I realized the darkness growing about me.

Another turn, another bend, and then suddenly, there it was.

As those travelers on the road to Emmaus sat around the table with Jesus, talking and sharing, they still didn’t realize what was before them until their focus was brought to the “Here and Now,” when Jesus broke the bread. Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-

Once the bread was broken, their bodies, predictably hungry from their days walk, pushed aside for the moment, their amazement of what that had heard and spoke about during their miraculous journey. It was then, they suddenly realized in whose presence they were, and had been for the majority of their day.

There, in the middle of the rocky trail, barely covered by any soil, stood a single morel.

I shouted out loud, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS!”

Those seated around the table that evening, when he broke the bread and blessed it, were about to witness the unbelievable. When He handed each of them their own piece of bread, their eyes were opened as had their minds been earlier in the day. It was then they realized who He was, and in that instant, He vanished before their eyes.

Did they shout, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS?”

Did they pause as they held the very bread of which Christ had handed them?

There before me was something that grew in such a rare occurrence, it could be said to be Heaven sent. No, it was not Christ, and no, it was not something miraculous, but it was a blessing so unexpected, it took my breath away.

I hesitated before bending down to pick up the precious morsel, then looked to Heavens. The rain had paused, and a shaft of sunlight shone down through the canopy above. “Thank you, Lord, for this blessing,” I whispered out loud.  I know in my heart that at that very moment those disciples too felt the urge to call out to God and thank Him for His Son.

We are all so very blessed.

One can only imagine that moment, that very minute when those disciples were handed that piece of food, and then to have Him seated before them.

Manna was sent from God to keep His children alive as they wandered those long years through the desert. That manna became their bread of life. Jesus died for our sins, so that we may have eternal life. He became our bread of life so that we may have eternal life, if only we accept Him into our hearts. We confess with our mouths our sins we believe with our hearts. When we consume the bread of life, we are taking that which is perishable which represents that which is not, Christ.

A morel, in a way, is like manna from Heaven. It is something that we might eat, sustaining our bodies while allowing us to give thanks to Him for providing something that is so uniquely special, it can only be a gift from God.

One morel, one last piece of bread from the hand of God, each one a blessing to those who receive.

This Easter, let us be thankful for a God, who gave His Only Son so that we might have salvation and eternal life. We need only recognize Him, and accept Him into our hearts when we confess our sins.

Blessed be Thy Name,

Thanks Be to God.

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by | April 9, 2017 · 8:59 pm

The Promise of My Father…

“Behold, I send the Promise of My Father upon you; but tarry in the city of Jerusalem[i] until you are endued with power from on high.”-Luke 24:49

Nothing excites me more than when someone brings up the power of the Holy Spirit.

In my life, there has been nothing as real and as powerful as the feeling when one is endued with the power on high. It is understood that for some, this statement is only that, a statement of words that are indescribable since there is nothing for which they might perceive to compare it with. Now before I go any further, I want to reiterate with the utmost integrity, that this is not being boastful or prideful; it comes from the perspective as one awakening to a new feeling that until now, might have been missed or even overlooked. To understand what I mean, I must begin at the beginning. Then, and only then, we might come to have a basis for what it is to “Receive” the Holy Spirit.

In Jesus time, he repeatedly spoke to the disciples of how they would receive the Holy Spirit, the Helper, as he called it, who would be with them after he was gone. “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you.”-John 14:26

Their eyes seemed to always be on the present, unable to grasp the prophecy to which Jesus was constantly alluding. Who can blame them? Here they were in the midst of the true Son of God, the Messiah, the miracle worker. Daily they witnessed the unbelievable, every day they saw gross deformities become healed, the demon possessed cleansed, and the dead arise from their deathbeds. How could they look beyond when there were so many amazing things happening right before them? It’s ironic that today, unlike those of the disciples, we are distracted by the plans of the coming day, the week ahead, the calendar, and all that must be done in the days’ time. We are so focused on what is next, we too often miss what is right before us, and this is where we begin to overlook the obvious, the miracles in our lives that appear and are gone before we take the time to reflect upon them. Unlike the disciples, we cannot focus on the present, when all we do is look ahead. They were the opposite, unable to look ahead due to what was before them.

Call it the irony of God.

What is the common thread between the two ironies; the presence of Jesus Christ of course?

When He is with us, we are relieved of our daily burdens. The future is a distant memory. Those distractions that kept us from our daily scripture slowly fade to dark as the light of the Word illuminates our hearts with the truth. Like those disciples, we have little concern for the future when all we need is here with us.

Yet, too many times, we slip in our walk of faith and fall back into that daily rut of trying to keep pace with the world around us. At this same time, we also miss the opportunity to accept and to recognize when we are in the presence of the Holy Spirit. We rush from one appointment, one event to the next and miss what often matters most. In these precious moments, we too often fail to accept the power from on high. When, and only when, our minds are one with God, can we fully embrace and receive Him. It is then when we are still and listening to that small voice, are we suddenly flooded from head to toe with a power so incredible, so electrifying, that one can barely keep their feet upon the very ground upon which they trod. It is then when we are overflowing with the Spirit that we find ourselves at a new and higher ground in our spiritual walk with God; greater than ever before.

Yet, this is not just something we can call upon, for it to happen. It is a power from on high, and as such, is only Heaven sent. That’s why Jesus told his disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait; wait for the Holy Spirit. They were instructed to call upon the Spirit, but to wait. Although their eyes had been opened to the scriptures, they still were required to wait for the Spirit.

One can have all the knowledge, knowing, and understanding of the entire Biblical encyclopedia but without the Holy Spirit, it is just that, only knowledge. The true power to go and do His will is when the two are combined as one: The Holy Spirit with the mind of the disciple. This is what Jesus had prepared his followers for once he was gone. He knew that without the Helper, they would be fearful of what they did not know, they would be hesitant to journey to those distant lands; therefore, they needed something that was greater than they were capable of conceiving, the Holy Spirit.

Walking with Jesus each day, we now have Him within us, as we carry the Word. With our understanding comes wisdom. Yet, it only takes us so far, we must also wait for that Spirit to be endued within each of us, lest we fall and stumble before we are ready to set out on our mission.

So now we are ready to speak of what it is to receive the Holy Spirit.

As we continue our daily walk in faith, we learn more and more about what it is to be a Christian or Christ-like. When we do, journey in our faith, we slowly awaken or become aware of things we might have overlooked that we now understand. Scriptures we once read as a matter-of-fact take on new meanings. The world around us becomes brighter, for in everything we see, we the Creator’s hand. Our senses become heightened to new realities we never understood. One of these is when we are filled with the Holy Spirit; whether we believe it or not.

Now for some, the realization, or the indwelling of the Spirit comes as a shock. For them, it is an instantaneous blast of heavenly power that is absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt, the Holy Spirit. Sometimes these people, in that moment of receiving the Spirit, lose their conscious minds and fall to the floor. In these cases, there is no mistaking when that person has received the Holy Spirit. I’ve witnessed these before and just to be there in their presence is as powerful as their receiving; it is a moving and emotional experience for all.

Then there are the subtler occasions when we have only been induced from without by the power so subtlety that one might mistake it for a chill, rather than the Spirit. Those moments when we see the unexplainable, like the light from spirits moving before a camera when there were just seconds before and saw nothing. Or the time when someone spoke a word, then the door blew open and a cold breeze wisped across your feet. Or the time when you felt the hand upon your shoulder pull you back, just as you were about to step off the curb just as the out of control car blew passed where you were about to step. When you turned to thank them, there was nobody there. These are the events that might escape our perception if we are not one with Him. Many explain them away as mere coincidence while others bring in the pagan beliefs of ghosts or hauntings. The realization of the truth escapes them. It is not until they call on His name, do they start to realize what it is to be overcome with the Spirit.

In time, we eventually awaken to the Holy Spirit. It is then, in those rare moments when we finally recognize that surge of voltage through our core, that shakes the nerve endings into a tingling sensation that almost lift us off the floor; these are the God knowing moments when your world changes forever; the enduing. Those who have felt it sometimes cannot explain it. Like Ezekiel trying to explain what he couldn’t understand in the vision of the Heavenly being, there are God things that are beyond our comprehension. We only can explain what we know, and in that manner, our words are sometimes not enough.

Many have felt the presence of the Lord, and in various forms. Their stories are a testimony to the power of believing.

A good friend and brother in Christ, Doug Stuart, experienced the power of the Spirit at a time when he needed it the most; his mother’s funeral. Doug was preparing to sing and speak at her service when he was suddenly overcome with doubt and fear. I’ve known Doug for several years, and to hear him say that he would be unable to speak or to perform would be unbelievable, yet there he was, moments away from failing his mother’s dying wishes. At that moment, he knew there was only one thing he could do; to pray to God for strength. It was then he described what it was to feel the power of the Holy Spirit come over him, like a gentle warmth of the Heavenly Father, wrapping him in love, lifting him up and giving him the strength to carry on. Yes, God was with my friend, and within my brother. He not only sang but spoke at length of his mother’s wonderful life. The son testifying for his mother, a love known like no other.

My cousin Davetta got the phone call from her mother telling her that my father had awakened out of the coma he had fallen within during one of the later hospital visits in his life. I remember that day as well. It was a miracle in and of itself. The doctors had said that they should call the family in since the end was near. Davetta said that she felt the power of the Holy Spirit come over her after that phone call. She remained lifted up from that feeling for the remainder of the day. The same thing happened when her Aunt had the same experience, she once again was endued from on high and was renewed with a feeling of Spirit so great that it literally changed each of those days in her life. She was blessed each time by the hand of the Lord.

Personally, I had felt the power of the Spirit before, but it was something that I didn’t understand or able to recognize. It wasn’t until I openly committed my life to following the Lord that I became aware of when the Spirit was with me. It started when I was serving at the Trail of Faith. Again, and again, there would be the tour where we would be witnessing about the story of the Waldensian people, when suddenly, never at the same place, never at the same time in the tour, the power of the Holy Spirit would come down upon myself and those around me. It wasn’t something that I singularly felt because those before me would speak, shout, or sometimes cry with joy. It was an utterly rapturous experience, time and time again. There was one tour in particular that I will never forget. Pastor Rick was there with his wife and a friend. We started out early that day because the visitor had to be heading back to Michigan. Something about the tour was different from the start. We began the tour at the map inside the Visitor’s Center, which was not uncommon. For special guests or tours, we often would begin the tour with a prayer. That day, the Holy Spirit came on us immediately. We continued feeling blessed already, but it wasn’t the end of the story. Sporadically as we made our way down the trail we would stop and pray, each time, once again, the Spirit came down. Each time it happened, the power grew greater. The final time, we stopped in the parking lot as they were about to depart and said a final prayer. It was then I felt as if I were being lifted off the ground, so great was the electric surge through my body. The hands of those I held could feel it through me as well. It was something to behold, and something that I’ll never soon forget.

However, this was not to be the last. God’s plan was not yet finished.

Before I knew it, the place I thought was to be the fulfillment of my calling turned out to be just a stepping stone.

Whenever, and wherever God leads, once you begin the journey, you must go. No matter the circumstance, no matter the location, there is purpose in everything we do.

So, when they day came that I found myself employed part-time at the Ski Slope in Blowing Rock, I had to shake my head in bewilderment. Somewhere in that place, there was a purpose for my being there other than to pay for affordable ski lift tickets for my children. Within a few hours of my second day, the purpose was unveiled, and eventually, I would find a brother in Christ in need. Week after week, we came to know one another and in that time, when we would spend extended lunch session studying scripture, there He was once more with us. In that dimly lit corner of the ski lodge, brother’s in arms became united in spirit, being filled from on high by the one true Spirit. We found purpose and another brother found his calling. More than once as we witnessed to each other, and soon, those around us, we both felt the power of the Holy Spirit moving in the one of the most unlikeliest of places.

In my journey, there is one thing I have discovered. You may never know when and where it will happen, but one thing is for sure, to witness to others is one of the best ways to make it happen.

As one of the last final commands by Jesus to his disciples was to fulfill the great commission, to go unto all foreign lands after having been endued with the Holy Spirit, making disciples for Christ. “But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” – Acts 1:8

We too, are to go out into the world once we have truly received Christ into our hearts, and having been filled with the Holy Spirit. It is our purpose and our calling as Christians to go and witness the wondrous truth of God’s love and the victory we have over death when we follow the one who died for all our sins.

We have a choice. Allow the Holy Spirit to fill you to overflowing, and when you have received, go forth and share.

You’ll never look back.

Thanks be to God.

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by | February 18, 2017 · 9:23 pm

I Once Was Blind…

“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light…” -Matthew 6:22

I once was blind, but now I see.

There are few greater gifts than that of sight.

Vision is both a physical and a philosophical entity.

On the one hand, we are unable to see the world around us without our eyesight. We awaken each day and find a world of color and light bringing to us all the nuances of living. To our eyes, darkness is the veil of gloom, something we fear, and rightly so. As we age our eyes change and many become victims of cataracts or worse. As the light begins to fade, too often so does the spirit. That virility of the drive in our youth begins to wane, and as the sunset of life cast dark shadows around us. We sense an end, but there is so much more.

The other aspect of vision is that of the ability to spiritually or mentally see something that is not there. Some call having vision the gift to see into the future and to be able to prophesize as to what is to come. Others call having vision, the ability to think ahead of oneself and create something mentally before it exists. No matter which vision we are speaking of, there is something to be seen which is not evident, neither terrestrial or physical.

Before I had answered his calling to serve at the Trail, the optometrist had warned me of a quickly growing cataract. However, once the wheels of the journey began, there was little time to deal with physical ailments, let alone the fact that Marketplace Insurance would do little to cover the costs of the surgery needed to fix the affliction. So I continued on while the ever growing and diminishing eyesight continued.

All along, I knew in order to be better serve in my capacity as the Director of the Trail, I would have to be as the scriptures read, to die to my former self. “That was simple,” I reasoned. “I’m no longer an engineer, rather, I need to learn how to minister to those seeking faith.” As a dedicated Christian, everything I did, I did with an eye toward the Lord. So, I poured over the Bible like never before. I studied Church history and spent every waking hour filling my mind with the knowledge of what it would take to better serve Him. Every day, my eyesight grew dimmer as the darkness grew. The harder I worked, the greater the scope of the darkness around me seemed to expand as well. There had been many bridges burned before I ever arrived, whether intentional or not. Not only did I face a physical obstruction within, but there was also a force beyond that could not be battled alone. “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”-1 Peter 5:8 In essence, I realized that to make the Trail all it could be, would take many years, not just a couple; nonetheless, I pushed on.

All the while, a greater awareness of the spiritual world around me began to take hold. There amongst the prayers, the coincidences that weren’t, to the unexplainable events a new perception of reality began to take hold. A new vision through the eyes of faith began to color the world around me. Like a shift from the days of black and white TV, to those of color TV, there was a gradual enrichment of life. This sweeter taste of living began to overwhelm my senses to the point nothing else compared. The desires of the past paled to what I now could see through the eyes of my new spirituality.

Meanwhile, God was making new plans for me, for this was not the final resting place in my journey; it was just the beginning, a stepping stone.

I soon found one door closing and a new one opening. Blessings answered doubts, fears were replaced with joys. However, amongst the beautiful changes, there was still the ever encroaching darkness. Day-by-day, the cataract grew until the vision out of my right eye was like looking through a sheet of wax paper. My left eye was deteriorating as well; time was running out. To add to the struggle, the drive to and from the new career required driving along curvy mountain roads unlike any I had ever traversed in my lifetime. The thought of those winding country roads back where I grew up on in Posey and Warrick Counties came to mind, but they were nothing compared to these mountain hairpin turns. At times they literally can take your breath away as you peer into the abyss that lay below, where no guardrail exists to block your view. My vision ha become so severe that at I would pray before leaving the house for School in the pre-dawn hours knowing what lay ahead. The ultimate test came the day the fog was so thick the lines on the road were barely visible. As I drove up the mountain, the fog increased in its density as the rain began to fall. Curve after curve, the rain and fog decreased my already reduced visibility to nearly nothing.

It was then, beyond all belief, the windshield wiper flew off.

I watched the last vestiges of my visibility seemed to fade to nothing. The car slowed to a crawl so that I might make sense of the blurred images before me.

“God, if this is a test, please let me know when I can turn it in, cause I think I’m about at the end of my ability to cope.”

Slowly as I inched along, as if on cue, around the next turn, the clouds broke, the rain subsided, and the fog disappeared.

“Thanks be to God,” I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

With time, God gives us the ability to understand more than we have before. With time, we learn from whence we came, and to that extent, we become more of whom we for which we were created. “Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.” -Jeremiah 33:3

There came into my life a renewed expectance. Like one receiving a gift, there is the anticipation of what lies ahead. So it was when we found an optometrist that performed not only cataract surgery but repair of eye lenses, I knew God’s hand was at work. Not only was my physical vision repaired, but now, Thanks be to God, it is corrected for life. What was even more miraculous was that the blessings of help came from friends and a new medical policy which now covered the procedure. All of this would not have been possible if the door had not closed and the other one opened.

“I was once blind, but now I see,” are words that I cannot take lightly anymore.

Dying to one’s former self is more than just the occupation, as I had thought. Yes, I realized that one would also die to those former earthly desires of the flesh, but what I hadn’t understood was that it was an awakening of perception of life as a whole. In the past, my five and ten-year goals were based around climbing the corporate ladder, finding myself in a greater place of wealth, and striving to obtain earthly possessions. Once my vision changed, so did my perception of my purpose in life as a whole. The slamming door made me realize that He had blessed me with knowledge for a reason. While I was to serve Him in all that I do, it was also using all that I am. In other words, part of my former self was still necessary in order to go forward with my journey at hand.

My learning continues as I now stand before those who are doing likewise. As I strive to be better in my new-found career, I also continue in parallel my study of His Word. My goals are nothing more than to make myself better equipped to serve Him in this journey and to see the world as He would have me to do so.

My vision is clearer more than ever before. With new eyes I see.

Like the blind beggar, we only have to ask in order to receive, “So Jesus stood still and commanded him to be brought to Him. And when he had come near, He asked him, 41 saying, “What do you want Me to do for you?”

He said, “Lord, that I may receive my sight.”

42 Then Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has made you well.” 43 And immediately he received his sight, and followed Him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.” – Luke 18:40-42

My vision of the future now has only one goal; to seek Him and receive the gift of eternal life. He gave His only Son to us, so that we may have eternal life. How much greater motivation do we need than that? “…the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

In all that we do, let us strive to be all that we can for His will.

“For I once was blind, but now I see.”

Thanks be to God!

You can learn more about God’s plan for my journey at Mission to Ride.

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by | January 30, 2017 · 8:49 pm

Mission to R.I.D.E.

“ 7 Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” -Matthew 7:7-8

After leaving a friend’s home recently after having dinner with them, we had discussed the possibility of my joining a mission team to the Waldensian Valleys located in the northwest corner of Italy. I was overwhelmed with a sense of purpose once again. This was not to be misconstrued with my everyday purpose in life; standing before the next generation and doing my best to implore before them the necessary morals and standards to base their lives upon, albeit through the discourse of Mathematics. No, this sense of purpose was of a higher power, from God. To be more specific, it was the answer to my question I had asked Him in the recent past. “When you are ready for me to go, let me know,” was my question to God about going to the Waldensian Valleys. Suddenly, out of the blue, He has called for me to go. However, as before, the human nature of my mind wants to step in the way, especially when the question of funds arises. I know deep in my heart that if it is meant to be, then there won’t be any doubt, regardless of funds or no funds. So after leaving their house, I purposely asked in prayer that if He truly wanted me to go, to speak to me directly. The next morning, Matthew 7:7-8 was waiting for me in my daily scripture reading, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find…”

“Yes,” he had answered.

On our way home, before the prayer, the thought of “how” nagged at me in the back of my mind. Suddenly, the idea of the “GoFundMe” project came to me. Would it work? Would I have a purpose needful enough to spark the imagination of other enough for them to donate to my cause? Deep in my soul, there is a voice speaking to me that tells me once my feet land upon that soil of those ancient martyrs, my life will never be the same. Like the Englishmen, Charles Beckwith, who would eventually relocated to the valleys to serve,  I know beforehand the potential impact that standing in places that heretofore I could only imagine, would be cause for great joy and weeping, simultaneously. Tour after tour at the Trail of Faith, I shared with those who could not go, like myself.  God again and again, spoke through me and allowed me to bring the Trail of Faith, which was modeled after the original monuments and historic buildings of the valleys, to come alive. Many visitors, and myself,  were often moved by the Holy Spirit. Now, to go to the very place where my heart was preparing for not only those guests but for my own testimony, would be a mission of more than just self-inspiration and revitalization. There is the hope that in this journey, there will be an evangelistic fire that will erupt from which many will be touched. How, where, and by what means this will happen I can only conjecture at this point.

To try to explain the nature of this mission in one word is not possible. Brother Barry exclaimed that it was many things in one, and thus was born the acronym, R.I.D.E. (R-Research, I-Inspiration, D-Devotional, E-Education). As God prepares my heart and mind for what is to come, there are also those miracles that one cannot predict, only God is capable of knowing. So it goes, with what little I can predict, the RIDE will by His will become reality.

In all of this, there is so much that I have already learned. Learning to receive was and continues to be for me one of the most difficult attributes to practice. “Ask and ye shall receive, knock and the door will be opened…”; easier said than done. But when one thinks on this as God’s will, there is no hesitation to knock nor ask.

Another night I wearily prepare for much-needed rest, and another night, I lift up this need to God in prayer and ask that if it is to be. If that comes through GoFundMe, then so be it. However it happens, I can peacefully rest assure that it is in His hands.

Thanks be to God.

If you would like to help fund this mission project, please click here, Mission to R.I.D.E. and Thank You in advance.

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by | December 10, 2016 · 11:59 pm

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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by | November 19, 2016 · 10:47 pm

What Paradise Lost, Heaven hath Gained…#singforSophie

Alone I walked, contemplating all that had transpired.

The canopy overhead was quickly changing from its autumn wardrobe to the haunting skeleton of winter. In the distance, a cold front approached. A sense of foreboding loomed, causing me to seek my daily walk sooner, than later. I pulled my collar up against the chill and hurried my pace.

A single leaf drifted toward my face as I walked, then danced ahead as if skipping along in thought. I stopped walking and watched the wondrous image to see where it might land. Its flight led my eyes to the rocky cliff along the trail. Granite boulders covered with moss and lichens formed the backdrop that towered far above where I stood. Intertwined in the rock were roots and vines, like the veins of a being, resting for time immemorial. “How long they had been there? How long would they be there after we are gone,” were the thoughts that passed through my head as I pondered at that moment.

Our lives often seem fleeting as the fallen leaves when compared to those of stone walls.

The Word tells us that we are nothing more than like the grass of the field, the flowers will fade away, and the grass will surely die. “…because, All flesh is as grass, And all the glory of man[b] as the flower of the grass. The grass withers, And its flower falls away,25 But the word of the Lord endures forever.” – 1Peter 1:24-25

The flowers of the field are a beauty to behold, but nothing can prepare us for when those precious blooms are picked before their prime.

Even though the distance is far, the thought is ever present of one such precious bloom being picked; a recent tragic loss of life.

Last week, an automobile accident in Indiana saw three generations of the one family perish. The Reinhart family, in one fatal night, lost their father David, grandmother, Ruth Ann, and daughter, Sophie. I had heard about this tragedy through my cousin Jeff, who had not only been friends with the father since childhood but likewise, his daughters had been close friends with Jeff’s. Sophie was a star of the Castle High School marching band and school choral group, “The Castle Sensations.” They had been returning late from a band competition in Indianapolis when the Reinhart’s car hit a deer. Fearing the car might not make it any farther, David pulled off the road to assess the damage. The next thing was the sound of squealing tires, lights, and the explosion of the impact.  A drunk driver crashed into their car, in what became a multi-car pileup on the interstate; a horrific tragedy, and an unbelievable loss to the small communities of Paradise, Newburgh and the surrounding area of Indiana.

We never want to hear the news, nor get that phone call of events like this, yet it happens.

Many ask, “Why does God allow things like this happen to good people?”

Often, the answer that sometimes helps is, “Because it strengthens those who are left behind.” But there are times when that answer just doesn’t seem justifiable, especially when there is one too young to carry the burden remaining.

When my cousin Mike passed, we had all gathered around grandma’s kitchen table and were struggling to make sense of it all. Mike had just turned 21 and was a more than just a towering figure to the rest of us kids, but he was also someone we looked up to as our leader, our rock to whom we could turn. Now, there we all sat, trying to understand the how and why of it all. Her hand emerged from behind the crowd surrounding that ancient kitchen table, leaning into the center and placed a yellow lily sitting in a clear glass of water into the middle. My cousin Peggy asked, “What is that for grandma?” We all turned to look at her. There was but a shimmer of a tear in her eyes as she replied solemnly, “When you walk into a field of flowers, don’t you always pick the prettiest one?”

“Yes,” Peggy replied, in a hesitant, wondering tone.

“God needed another beautiful flower for the Master’s bouquet.”

All of our eyes turned toward the new single centerpiece of that table and thought of all the fond memories of Michael. It was a moment I will never forget. It was as if she had asked God to speak to each of us, comforting us each by our own memories; peace enveloped that tiny kitchen so long ago as Jesus helped us through another dark time. Grandma prayed over us all as Jesus touched our hearts.

In all of the sorrow of that horrific wreck on that dark, lonely road in Indiana, there was a single shining light. One flicker of hope for the family that had in an instant suffered so greatly, a lone survivor. Dave’s other daughter who was riding with them miraculously endured the disaster with only minor injuries. In the coming days, weeks, and years, that young daughter’s faith, as well as the rest of the family, will be tested. They will have to learn what substance is hoped for, in the evidence of the things that cannot be seen. The surviving daughter will relive that night for the rest of her life, that night where in the blink of an eye, her world became a living nightmare. They will have to lean on the everlasting cross, for in Him, they will find the strength and comfort to carry on.

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, evidence of things unseen.”- Hebrews 11:1

All of this turns through my mind as my trail twists and turns through the ever-changing forest. “Why God, do you not let me walk in peace,” I asked, looking into the clear blue skies? A flurry of leaves swirl above me, then rush ahead disappearing into the darkness. 

A child, her sister, and their mother are left to carry on in a world that’s been altered from what seemed like the path that God had chosen. Ripped from its foundation, their very existence has been skewed so that now, they have to face a reality that seems anything but real.

My pathway passes the rapids on the Johns River where I stop to pause once more.

Then came the voice, “What Paradise has lost, Heaven has gained.”

God calls us home at the most unexpected times. Those that heard the beautiful, gracious young lady sing in person can easily see Sophie joining the angelic choir as her father and grandmother proudly look on; it has to be, it just does.

The heaviness for those mourning the loss of loved ones is felt in my heart as I watch the water pass over the rocks in gushing, white torrents.

Life is like the river.

Time is constantly passing like the current, with moments of upheaval and dire consequences when the world collides against those granite edifices creating chaos. In theses chaotic moments, we find our faith with both hands and embrace it tightly to our chests. When they slowly ebb back to normal, we return to the gentle currents where we seemingly pass from day-to-day unthinking; yet, constantly, time is passing on, like the current. Around a bend the water finds a swirling pool where the rush of life comes to a halt, peace and calmness follow. God’s purpose even in the time of great upheaval can find serenity and healing. Eventually, the water and life continue, time passing on, as the current flows onward.

What we lose on earth, heaven finds as a reward. We can find comfort in knowing that there is an even greater joy when we reach that golden shore. There waiting for us will be an angel dressed in white singing for all the ages.

These things we can only pray, for all those affected, for all those hurting; God is there for each of you.

These things we pray in God’s Holy Name,

Amen.

“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. 2 In My Father’s house are many mansions;[a] if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.[b] 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And where I go you know, and the way you know.” -John 14:1-4

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by | November 12, 2016 · 8:51 pm

Finding Our Purpose…

20161111_162129“And the Lord appeared to him the same night and said, “I am the God of your father Abraham; do not fear, for I am with you. I will bless you and multiply your descendants for My servant Abraham’s sake.” – Genesis 26:24

It began in a land far, far away, in a time long before our existence was ever imagined; our purpose in this life.

On a rare family trip, one sunny November afternoon, we once more found ourselves exploring the beauty of our new home here in the mountains of North Carolina. As our footsteps tread upon the stones interlaced with roots like sinews of a sleeping leviathan, my thoughts wandered back to how wonderfully made was this world in which we live. For the short time we are here on earth, God prepares us each day for our heavenly home if only we stop and listen. Those spectacular, but brief, moments when we taste, see, or hear ecstasy on earth, it is but a moment in time compared to what awaits. For us to understand, is as if we might fathom our purpose here on earth.

The air upon the mountain top often allows for one to contemplate many things, but none so sobering as to why we are, and where we are, in our journey with God. To stand and span the vista surrounding you can easily impress upon you the vastness of all that surrounds us when few look beyond the four walls of their self-induced prison cell of existence.

It has been said to understand the will of God is to be one with God, something very few people ever come close to realizing. It is as if we spend out lifetime searching for that purpose by which we seek. The inspirational speakers of our day demand we set goals, both long term, and short term; yet, when we walk in His presence, these terrestrial benchmarks matter little. If we truly look back at our lives and wonder when we were fully in control of our destiny, we might be fooled into thinking we have been the master’s of our own ship, but that would certainly be, at least in my case, a ship of fools. Exacting our own gifts to do what we are capable of is to ignore our God given abilities, that alone, we are nothing. In our seeking to be independent of our dependence upon our Creator, we are lulled into an imaginary existence of superiority, being an equal to God; a deadly belief if there ever was one. Like a child wanting to be an adult, many think they can satisfy all their own needs by their own hand. Yet, all that they obtain is never enough. So, the cycle of want and desire become and endless loop, pulling the soul into an abyss from which there is no escape. It is as if we yearn to age before our time only to find ourselves seeking ways back to our youth; a never ending cycle of longing and desire for that which we had, but never fully appreciated.

Some stop in time to finally see the futility and ask, “Why?” If they are blessed to have heard and accepted Jesus Christ as their Savior, then the choice is clear.

There is but one true purpose.

When we awaken to that realization, of one true purpose, and that is to serve Him, then everything else pails in comparison. Those flash-in-the-pan inspirational speakers with their sound bites and tips on how to succeed are nothing but the sound of dry bones rattling in Ezekiel’s desert. All those goals and incremental steps to control our future are merely like the mist floating across the river, appearing for a time then vanishing with the wind.

In fact, long before we are born, God has already begun preparing our paths, making the multitude of variables that will seemingly fall into place on the very day you need them to occur, appear as if by some strange circumstance, your dream came true. For many, those prayers answered had begun before their knock was placed upon the door.

We might kid ourselves into thinking we understand our place and our purpose, but in reality, we are merely speculating.  Just when we think we’ve got it figured out, that door, the one that seemed so solid, so true, will close before your next breath and in the blink of an eye, the world you thought you were the master of becomes the past; a lesson learned.

As Isaac struggled to survive the famine and lead his family from one well to the next, God came to him, telling him that his purpose had been established long before he came into being. His very reason for living was already determined, but yet to be realized. Even so, he had to become the man God had intended him to be, regardless of his faults and shortcomings.

Walking back from our long hike in the thin, cool mountain air there was much for us to consider. For what we do is always on display for others to observe. If we are truly walking with Him on our journey, then we need only comprehend, even if we were to say nothing, that our walking along the narrow ledge of that mountain trail would be enough to speak volumes about who we are and for which we stand. When we stumble, He is there to catch us. When we fall, He is there to pick us up. When we allow his light shine for all to see, He is there to glorify all.

In all that we do, may our walk along life’s pathway be one that glorifies our heavenly Father, so that on that final day of visitation, we may pleasing in his eye.

One may never fully understand why God has placed them upon their path or their purpose in life, but if we accept that just our being there, walking that narrow trail, is simply enough, then we can better accept our fate, our lot in life.

Life on the mountain is a blessing each day.

In all that we do, give thanks to God.

Thanks be to God!

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by | September 12, 2016 · 9:34 pm

A Tree, A River, and the Word…

treebyriver

““Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, And whose hope is the Lord. 8 For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, Which spreads out its roots by the river, And will not fear when heat comes; But its leaf will be green, And will not be anxious in the year of drought, Nor will cease from yielding fruit.”-Jeremiah 17:7-8

There are the long spells of time when all is well with my soul, and nothing seems to cause me to take pause. But then out of the blue, it’s as if I’ve been woken up from a long sleep, and suddenly there’s the sinking feeling that there is a looming appointment that’s been forgotten; panic and dread begin to well up inside like a cauldron of hopelessness. These anxious moments are my days and nights lately. Like a lone survivor of a shipwreck looking for the matches to light the signal fire, I scramble to find comfort in the Word. The Bible is closer now than ever before and the scriptures more significant. When those days of fighting between despair and trust come to a close, the trails near our new home have become my bastion of solitude.

There is a peacefulness to the forest.

I can recall my youth, growing up amongst the cornfields of Indiana, looking out my window knowing there was another place that beckoned; a place where mountains and dark wooded vistas wrapped themselves around clear flowing brooks. Back then I didn’t understand or know why I felt the calling. All I could see then was a sea of green cornstalks, occasionally broken by a tree line. The flatness was so apparent it now takes my breath away just to think of it. Sullenly, on my last visit for my father’s funeral, my heart ached as I watched the gray, dormant land pass by the windows of the car. There was an endless feeling of loss that panged me then, but it came not just from the loved one dying, but more than that, it was from knowing that I had spent a childhood amongst this. Part of me had known death before it was ever realized. A vast somber landscape that forces one to search for hope, and escape, any way you can to be saved from something so overpoweringly sad that it makes you wonder how you ever survived to this day. In that place, the most insignificant speck of color became the focus; your pleasure was measured by simple things. To that extent, you are made aware of beauty when it is placed before you, and you soaked it in like one drinking from the well for the first time.

From the somber landscape of Indiana to the mountains here in North Carolina, my life has been a journey I could have never imagined. This is my world now; beauty like Eden, so precious and stirring you cannot help to be moved. Yet, like the bends in the river, my life has taken a turn that we never expected once again.

We could dwell on the why, the how, or the what of it all. But like Lott and his family, the angels told them not to look back lest they become pillars of salt. So we force ourselves to go onward, measuring our steps ever so painfully. Again, reaching for the Word can provide comfort when there is none, allowing for the eyes to look up and see the world around instead of looking down and pondering our fate.

Making scripture come alive was something I had found so pleasing in this past year. So with that in mind, I sought the tree mentioned in Jeremiah, the one that stands beside the stream. My strength comes from Him, like the living water through which the tree survives even in the hardest times. Back to the forest and trails that have become my comforter, I returned once more.

On the days when nobody at home wants to go with me, I then seek out my friend and hiking buddy next door, Leroy. Like a child again, I wander up to the door of his house seeking out my brother in Christ. I knock and jokingly greet his wife Annette with, “Can Leroy come out to play?”

“Sure, ‘c’mon in and I’ll get them,” she replies with that big wide Texas grin as she swings the door open. “Yes, he can come out to play,” she laughs.

With a sheepish grin, he emerges around the corner grabbing his walking staff and hat, “Where too,” he quips?

“Wherever the good Lord takes us,” I smile in reply. “Today we have to hurry, I want to catch the river before the light is gone,” I say pointing to my sketchbook in hand. “I’ve got a tree in mind that matches scripture that has been on my mind a lot lately.”

“Great, let’s get going then,” he responds, and with that, we were off to the nearest trailhead as we wave goodbye to Annette.

As our feet find the path below, we quickly jump into the day’s events and happenings. Before we know it, we’re standing on the banks as the golden light of the sunset begins to paint the river a copper glow, as Leroy described it. The trees are standing firm overhead as the shadows start to overwhelm the forest beyond. Over and over again, the scripture from Jeremiah had been resurfacing in my mind as my recent job loss has created a turmoil in my life like never before.

As we scanned the scene before us, we both saw it at the same time and realized, there it is; the one that spreads its roots out by the river, the one that will not fear when the heat comes, the one whose leaves will remain green and not be anxious when the dry weather comes.

Two artists standing in admiration of God’s beauty, and knowing His word was with us, makes me even now feel blessed in so many ways. The Lord puts us in places with people for reasons we cannot fathom or understand. We are asked only to do His will and obey. When we do, we will be rewarded with innumerable sanctifications.

In awe and silence, I quickly sketched and captured as much of the image as possible before the light of day was gone. Leroy and I had shared once more the feeling of the Holy Spirit coming alive as the Word became truth before our eyes. We shall not be anxious in times of drought, for we will find sustenance in Him, and we will continue to be fruitful in all that we do.

Another walk, another trail, and the journey continues.

These are the Words of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

“I will lift up my eyes to the hills— From whence comes my help? My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.”-Psalm 121:1-2

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by | July 23, 2016 · 10:09 pm

The Heart of a Child…

“But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”-Matthew 19:14

For some of us, it takes a lifetime to find our place, and then we have but only a short time with to share with those around us; or beloved, our children. We waste our youth chasing foolish dreams of riches and pleasures of this world only to eventually realize what mattered most have gone before us. As we seek to make the world a better place for everyone, it is our narrow view of the grand picture from where we operate. Only with time and age do we sometimes find that slender vision expands and encompasses a world far greater in scale than we could have ever imagined in our wildest youthful dreams.

However, there are a few who find that grander purpose long before their time. Jesus knew that some would seek lampuntomyfeethim, and when they did, he wanted any, and all obstacles removed from their path, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them…,” Some unknowingly seek His face without ever knowing Him, as God directs them. From their hospital beds in wards full of other children, they lie in wait for the most insignificant touch, the mere glimpse of a smile, anything to brighten their gloom; they seek Him without having to be told, as only the most precious can, “for of such, is the kingdom of heaven…”. An innocence so pure of heart, not even the whitest of white snows can compare. Their hearts commune with the Father, as the touch of angels wings, brush the tears from their tiny, rose colored cheeks. If they are lucky, the image of His presence will remain into adulthood, beyond all the worldly experiences that face them should they eventually live to walk from that supposed place of healing. Then, their path becomes one of God’s will, should they choose it.

Yet, as we face our own mortal ends, the question often arises, am I ready?

Jesus shared with his disciples what the soul of man would be like once he obtained that eternal home when he compared heaven’s inhabitants to the heart of the child when he said, “…For of such, is the kingdom of heaven.” No longer will the earthly bounds, pleasures, and hatreds confine the spirit. No longer will the pangs of hunger distract you from being one with the Father. No more pains and sorrows to burden your being, so that your spirit will soar with the angels on high. There is nothing less magnificent than the picture of a heavenly home of child-like hearted people, all free to be themselves without fears of attack, reprisals, darkness or gloom; it will be heaven for sure.

She rattled on from one topic to the next, a nervous rant. The child was from a severely broken family, so much so, that she was staying in a foster home for the weekend until things could settle down. She sat with me at the oven while we waited for the bread to bake for the tour that was making its way down the Trail. Her foster mother had brought her along for the afternoon, if nothing else, just to get her out of the house. God had a purpose for her visit, this much I knew. As she talked, there was no mention of faith anywhere in her life. From one family member to the next, the child described those that had a positive influence, and those that had not. As she became more comfortable, she began to share the darkest moments in her life; her father’s death four years ago at the age of 37. “He died on July 21,…I was only ten years old,” she said looking down, as she pulled her hair back away from her face with one hand. “His four-year death anniversary was just two days ago.”

“That must be hard,” I replied.

“He died in my arms,” she said, “something I’ll never forget.”

“You’re not supposed to,” I tried to say in a comforting tone. “God want’s you to remember and use it on your journey through life.”

“Oh, I will, …never forget,” she said quickly, as she tried to perk up not allowing herself to go down into that dark abyss.

“Do you know David Smith,” she asked.

“No.”

“He’s my therapist.”

It was then I realized she had been down much farther than I imagined, and to what extent I had no idea. This shattered broken young woman was doing the best she knew how to pull her life together. “Comfort her with the Word,” came the voice.

“You know, there’s a scripture not far from 7, 21?”

Her attention returned from mourning, “Huh,?”

“John 7:37, On the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. 38 He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”

“Wow, how do you do that, memorize all those scriptures.”

“Not nearly enough,” I responded. “You know something, I lost my father too.”

She turned and looked.

“Do you know the scripture, John 3:16,” I asked before continuing?

“I just learned it the other day,” she quipped.

“Tell me.”

She stood now, looking down at me in a puzzled face.

Trying to encourage her I began, “For God so loved the…”

She continued to look with a blank stare, unable to retrieve the words. “the world, that He gave His only begotten Son so that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but have everlasting life.”

“Oh yeah, that one.” She responded when I had finished.

“My dad died almost two verses later.”

That made no sense, as she wrinkled up her nose.

“His name was John, and he died on 3, 18.” I then quoted John 3:18 for her. “You see, if you believe, you won’t be condemned, but if you choose not to, you are condemned already.”

About that time, the tour group was heading our way, and we were running out of time.

“Oh, I do know one….a scripture,” she said proudly as she sat back down. “It’s the one about the light and the lamp unto my feet. I think it’s like, Psalm 119 something.”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” I said, scanning the Bible app on my phone. Shortly after, I found Psalm 119; 105 and read it aloud to her, “Your word is a lamp to my feet And a light to my path.”

“Very good,” I exclaimed proudly. “There is hope,” I thought silently.

“I don’t know all of those like you,” she replied.

“But you’ve got a great start,” I smiled as my heart panged for her.

She smiled back, as the spirit of a child emerged. The tour group was now turning the corner, and our sharing was over. As I looked back on the evenings events, my thoughts turned to all those that are seeking. There are so many who need our prayers. Many are hurting either physically or spiritually, but we must be even more vigilant to lift those children up who are fighting to find a pathway in this world; a world so broken and bleak, there is little hope for them unless they are shown the way, the truth, and the light.

“May the Word be the lamp unto their feet and a light for all their paths,” this much I pray.

Thanks be to God.

 

 

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