Category Archives: Religion

Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience

Tagged as ax, Chisone Valley, god, Italy, mission, Missionary, NC., Roure, Trail of Faith, Valdese

by Timothy | October 19, 2015 · 8:49 pm

Living Water…

“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. ³⁸He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.”-John 7:37-38

To see the water flow from the parched lips of the fountains spout was like a man lost in the desert coming over a dune to find an oasis spread before him; so it was today, another day, another first at the Trail.

In Jesus ministry, it was apparent that the Jews and religious leaders of his time could not fathom the story he was sharing when he said, ““I shall be with you a little while longer, and then I go to Him who sent Me. ³⁴You will seek Me and not find Me, and where I am you cannot come.” As Jesus tried to unveil the true purpose of his ministry, the concept was beyond their ability to grasp its concept. So, after the feast, he tried to put it in perspective such that they might be able to understand when he spoke about the “Living Water.” In their world, they were starving for a drink from the fountain of the Holy Spirit. Even as badly as Jesus wanted to give them this, he still would not be able to do so until his glorification while on the cross. Thus, the reason Jesus told his disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait for the Holy Spirit to come down before going out to preach to all nations.

In the time of darkness, when the Roman Catholic church tried to extinguish the flame of truth, the true Word of God, it was this “Living Water” that kept flowing through the hearts and minds of those who had received his glory from the beginning. Those who came and drank from His well, his living water, never thirsted again. These were the faithful that carried on in times of darkest persecution, the Waldensians.

Against all odds, against all forces of evil, the truth of the Word prevailed so that today, we can behold his Glory of our own accord, without an intercessory directing our thoughts and prayers. Through the darkest hour, the “Living Water” flowed from the valleys of the Cottien Mountains, serving those whose way had been lost, whose spiritual lips were parched and dying for the refreshment of the life-giving Word.

Today, as never before, there is a growing thirst in our land, a parched body of souls, ever-more growing in number who seek for this life-sustaining sustenance and are looking for a fountain from which to drink.

Today, the fountain which symbolized the gift from King Carlos Alberto to the Waldensian people in 1845, came alive. The water finally began to flow. Today, as we watched the fountain come to life, we recalled the scripture in the book of John. It was at that moment that I wondered if the ancient King understood the significance of his gift. I wondered how much he understood that these people of the valleys, those who made His word their primary goal in life, became that “Living Water,” of which Jesus spoke?

Our world increasingly seeks for an answer to the growing despair and darkness that seems to be unabated. How much more today do we need sources of “Living Water”; like never before? As we walk the Trail of Faith, we can once more reflect back on Jesus’ words and seek Him so that we too may become these fountains from which living waters may flow.

May your heart become a river, this I pray.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience

Tagged as bible, Cottien Alps, fountain, glorification, god, Holy Spirit, Jesus, John 7, King Carlos Alberto, living water, mouth, NC., river, spout, trail, Trail of Faith, Valdese, Waldensian, water

by Timothy | October 18, 2015 · 10:02 pm

Power of Prayer…

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.” –Psalm 19:14

Prayer connects us to God in ways we as mere mortals beings may never understand.

Each day I find God only tests us with what he knows we can handle; this week was no different.

First thing Monday morning we had our first visitors, a walk-in family of four who were there or a self-guided tour. As I began introducing them to the Trail, I felt led to share with them more than the basic story and soon found myself sharing my testimony. Their children were very attentive and extremely well educated in Christianity; knowing more scriptures than many adults I’ve met. Later we would find that they were home schooled which explained their advanced Biblical knowledge. I specifically recalled the point where it hit me that this was another “God Moment,” as I’ve been calling them lately. That moment came after they had watched our introduction movie and had turned around to ask questions. For some reason, I can’t recall the details, they mentioned something about being from Durham. Perhaps I had shared with them the farm and the fact that we hadn’t yet sold ours back in Chatham County and then they said how they were looking to get out of Durham and move out into the country. It was then the image of God smiling, looking down on us all came to mind. I know God has a sense of humor; knowing all the struggles, showings and lack of getting our house to move at all. Could this be the family that only He could have found and sent to us to start the ball rolling?

As I took them on more of a guided tour than a self-guided tour while I was able, as long as another guest didn’t arrive we can spend more time with our guests, I was able to share with them in more detail the whole story. When we give tours, we can often tell when the Holy Spirit begins to work in our visitors and this particular morning, He was definitely with us. I learned that the mother’s maiden name was “Barba,” as the name of those who taught and led the student’s at the college in the valleys. I encouraged her to seek out more of her family tree, especially since she knew she was of Italian ancestry. Although I don’t need a miracle to believe, there are some who do and what another amazing story it would be if this was the family.

Oddly enough, when we tried to show them our farm that was for sale on the MLS listing, it hit me, that we had taken it off the market temporarily and that it wasn’t available to show them. Instead, we gave them contact information for our realtor and the address, just in case. It was almost as if we weren’t allowed to go too far that day, but just enough.

In God’s time, we shall see.

Then, as if we needed another gear switched, we had a totally different perspective arrive on Wednesday when Ron Long and his wife Donell arrived from New Mexico. For Ron’s birthday, Donell arranged to bring him to Valdese to visit the town from where his grandfather had come. Before finding us at the Trail, they had already gone to the museum downtown. They had also studied the Waldensians somewhat so that I was able to jump right into my testimony and share with them my own spiritual journey. As I did, we soon found our ancestral ties, since Ron’s family tree also included Trons. As their self-guided tour turned into a guided tour, while I was once again able, we found so many connections and similarities in our own journey that we literally could not find enough words to share the moment. Family reunions like this, set apart by centuries of time, require nearly an eternity to allow us all the time needed to pass from one to the other the stories of who, what, where and why. I can only imagine that day when Christ returns and we shall all be called to that eternal heavenly home, to share with all our family gone on before. Eternity awaits, for it will be needed in order to hear every last word of every last tale that each of us has to share.

Ron and Donell felt such a strong desire to be part of the journey that they openly expressed how they wished that God might find a way to move them here someday. I offered them my prayers that it might come to pass.

Before Ron and Donell left, we shared our contact information and let the know about the evening meal at the Waldensian Church later that evening. We hugged goodbye not knowing if we would ever meet again. As fate would have it, we met them at the Church dinner later. They were there along with Marilynn from the museum, who had given them their tour earlier in the day enjoying the wonderful Wednesday evening meal. We had another great visit and soon found ourselves hugging goodbye more than once; family whom you know you might never see again is very hard to see go away, especially after you’ve just met. God only knows!

As if the week hadn’t already been moving enough, then came Thursday.

An older couple came walking in later that Thursday morning. I began the introduction to the Trail for their self-guided tour and it was during that brief intro that I felt something speak to me, to tell me to go on, so I did. As I gave my testimony, I felt myself being drawn closer to God in a way that I had never felt before. Before I knew it, the lady to whom I was speaking began to cry and then said to me that she had cancer. I could feel her need for fervent prayer and I opened my arms, embracing her and her husband at the same time, praying over them, asking God for healing and strength; it was a first for me here at the Trail. It was then that I shared with her how my own mother had fought and battled cancer for over 20 years before passing a couple years ago, and that with faith, anything was possible. From that point on, until I could go no further due to other arriving guests, I stayed with them and felt a connection unlike any other. We didn’t have to be blood relatives to feel a bond, we were brothers and sisters in Christ. Later when they came back in, we hugged goodbye and I prayed a silent prayer for them as they drove away. We may never meet again on this side of Glory, but oh what a glorious day it will be when we do.

And then came Friday.

Suffice it to say, we had our challenges but our staff and volunteers worked like seasoned professionals, meeting every obstacle with undaunted determination. In the end, we served nearly 100 guests who were all able to hear our story, our testimony, smell the wood being cut on the sawmill, taste the fresh baked bread and even allowed to roll a few bocci balls. Yes, Friday was as beautiful as it was blessed, with its azure blue skies and crisp fall air.

We had made it through one of our best weeks to date and survived. My 4:30 AM start date that Friday morning wore on me pretty hard by the time 11:00 PM rolled around at the youth center, but I was quite thankful to be able to go home and have a wonderful night’s sleep.

Prayers had been answered more than once, and some we may never know.

Later that weekend my sister called to let me know my brother-in-law had found a job. I shared with her that after the last time we spoke, about a month earlier, I began making a conscious effort to pray for him to find a job. That had been nearly three weeks ago. I asked her when he found the job, she then paused and said, “It was about three weeks ago.” He had been about to take a job far, far away where he might have to move to temporarily and work making an extreme hardship on him and the family but suddenly before he packed to leave, another company called an offered him a job locally, for more money. That was the job he now had. It was then that we thanked God for prayers answered on both ends of the phone.

As Allen King, the pastor of River of Life Church, continues the prayer revival, we too return to prayer more and more. As we do, amazing Godly things begin to transpire, transforming our reality into answered prayers.

All we have to do is believe, and pray.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience

Tagged as amen, Barbas, cancer, Chatham County, Durham, MLS listing, NC., pastor, prayer, River of Life Church, Trail of Faith, Tron, Valdese, Waldensian

by Timothy | October 11, 2015 · 10:09 pm

Are You Alone…?

“Then he said to me, “Do not fear, Daniel, for from the first day that you set your heart to understand and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard; and I have come because of your words. 13 But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me twenty-one days; and behold, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, for I had been left alone there with the kings of Persia. 14 Now I have come to make you understand what will happen to your people in the latter days, for the vision refers to many days yet to come.”” –Daniel 10:12-14

I often ask God for strength lately, it’s just something I need now more than ever. However, when I ask that he help me to remain humble before the sight of God and others, I rarely expect to see Michael appear, as did Daniel. But when you pray, you never know for sure how your prayers might be answered, and so it goes.

It had been another grueling, physically challenging week. I had pushed my body beyond anything I could have imagined once again. Up before dawn each day, working well past dark until the late hour of each night trying to do all humanly possible to take the old farm to a level comparable to which it is worthy in order to be sold. Squeezing all this into a week already packed with an upturn in events at the Trail made for a culmination of exhaustion that could be felt down in my bones by early Saturday afternoon.

The day before, Friday, we had our first large school group, in which we had two new tour guides and several new volunteers joining our ranks along with a volunteer cancellation which left me to run the sawmill instead of being able to solely supervise as I had hoped. It was also the first time we had served bread to a large tour, so we literally had all hands on deck. There was a special satisfaction at the end of their tour, seeing so many children playing bocci, munching on fresh hot bread from the community oven, playing games on the field and just enjoying life. Everyone had performed exceedingly well; it was a moment to be proud of.

It was as if a new spirit was being reborn at the Trail.

However, I could feel a physical strain by the end of the day Friday. Yet, we had our first ever yard sale planned for Saturday, so I had to set my alarm for 4:30 am to wake up in time to get everything in order. Needless to say, the alarm never went off since I was awake well beforehand. Even though it was a light rain all morning, we still set up our sale, moving everything inside the Trail’s visitor center. All of our vendors that had planned to sell cancelled leaving only us as the sole provider. Even so, we still had lots of visitors and first-time guests at the Trail which allowed us to share our story with many that would have never stopped; another day, another first at the Trail.

As we began cleaning up, there were more souvenir blocks to be cut, so one of the volunteers and myself drove to the gas station to get more fuel for the sawmill. On the way, I could feel a weariness wash over me that drove a sensation utterly to my bones. I felt that I was only minutes away from needing to collapse on my bed or else lose consciousness. About that time my phone rang. It was my wife telling me there was a special group of visitors at the Trail and that I might want to hurry back and consider giving them a guided tour. I replied, “I can’t give a tour, I’m physically unable…I’m just too exhausted.” She replied, “I know, I know, but you’ve got to meet these people and try, you might not know what will come of it.” I groaned back into the phone and said I’d do my best, and hung up. I knew that she would have not suggested this unless there was indeed something special about them, so we obtained our petrol and rushed back, unaware of what we were about to encounter.

As I drove back, I said a prayer under my breath, asking God for strength. From past experience, I knew that being physically tired put a horrible strain on my presentation and that to do justice to any tour, I needed as much of my stamina in place as possible; this was going to need more than I had to give. “God, please be with me, and speak through me in spite of myself,” I prayed, “and Lord, be with us as I do your will.”

There are times when we reach levels of spiritual comprehension that appear to us in forms we cannot understand; angels unaware if you will.

As I walked into the visitor’s center, it was obvious immediately that she had been correct in calling me back. There I met a former Burke County high school teacher and his family, who were all visiting and having a reunion of sorts, having not seen one another for over 40 years. I learned that he was fluent in all European languages and had once worked with the late Fred Cranford’s wife, Betsy, at Freedom High School. We had an immediate connection as he spoke German to me and I understood every word. He then began to speak French to me and oddly enough, I understood most of what he was saying even though I had not taken French. My mind began to wonder if the exhaustion was playing tricks on my brain, and quickly dismissed it. As we moved past our introductions, we moved into the beginning phase of the tour, but not after getting a hot cup of coffee; I was going to need every bit of help I could find.

As the tour began, it seemed to take a while to start warming up to the guests but as we moved from one exhibit to the next, something began to change them; the Trail does that to many. It wasn’t until after we had left the cave that I noticed we lost a member of our group. He later joined us but seemed transformed. We contined on, but there was something beginning to work on our group, something I couldn’t comprehend, something beyond my understanding. As we moved further along the tour, something again was working among my tour guests. It was then that the gentlemen that had stayed behind revealed to me the growing presence of another was with us, one that he had witnessed while standing in the cave. He showed me a video he had taken and there before my eyes I saw something did not make sense, something that words could not adequately describe.

A saying the Waldensians use is “Lux Lucet in Tenebris”, “The Light Shines in the Darkness”.

There in the video, before my unbelieving eyes, I watched sources of light move about, in front of the camera screen, as if angels had interceded on our behalf and were either fighting off demons to protect us or were simply there to dance and behold His glory before us, so that this little group would be changed. The gentlemen had confirmed his test to make sure there were no insects before the camera and no dust particles that could have been affecting the video, taking it over and over again with the same result.

We continued on the tour, the thought of not being alone nagging at the back of our minds, the shadow of light we couldn’t understand eating at our rational understanding of reality.

I worked the sawmill for them, showing them how we had cut the wood to build the first homes in Valdese, and again, the spirit moved through us as more connections were made. An elderly lady was made young again as she shared about growing up across the street from a sawmill where her family worked and she carried water to them for five cents a day. I watched as her eyes lit up and she was child-like once more.

We next moved into the Refour house, a part of the tour that is a testament to the beautiful Alpine-like homes first built in Valdese. Here in the Refour House, we rarely do nothing more than observe the wonderful furnished décor and upgrade in housing from the first homes. But this was already an uncommon tour and was about to take another unexpected turn.

Usually guests stay on the first level of the living quarters but this group wanted to look upstairs also, which was perfectly fine. After a short pause, the teacher came back down and asked that I go upstairs where the gentlemen with the video camera was filming; they had something else for me to see. As I approached, he began by telling me he didn’t believe in heaven or hell, but that he did believe in spirits and that there was something alive in this place, like we had witnessed in the cave, but now he was shaking. As we again watched the video, there were once more light sources moving about, as if angelic beings were there with us, drifting around us in the room.

It was then, there in the dusk of the day that I noticed he was having trouble trying to speak.

He began to weep as he described what they meant to him. It was a moving moment for us both. I then said I believed there was indeed a heaven and a hell and that there had to be angels in heaven who had come to be with us. I can’t explain the rush of spirituality that came over us as I witnessed to him the salvation that awaits us all when Christ becomes part our lives. As we stood there, reveling in their glory, I couldn’t help think that without their help, this tour would have never reached this point; I was unable alone, yet we weren’t.

We ended the tour becoming so moved by our experience that we all knew God had worked in our lives.

The mere fact that the teacher had been by this place so many times and never stopped. The fact that I was even available to lead instead of home sleeping which I had so badly wanted to do, to the fact that we weren’t alone during the tour, that someone had intervend on our behalf. There were so many coincideces about this day that in total, it was impossible to believe that they were anything of the sort.

God is with us, if only we ask, we shall receive.

A revival is coming, are you ready?

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as angel, beings, bocci, bread, Burke Co., cave, Chatham Co., farm, god, Heaven, hell, Jesus Christ, michael, NC., North Carolina, oven, Refour, sale, school, spirits, tour, tour guide, Trail of Faith, Valdese

by Timothy | October 3, 2015 · 8:31 pm

One Raindrop Fell Into the River…

The circle of life spins around us, our world never ceasing to exist, yet we remain unaware until we are shaken from our slumber.

Rain pelted the pavement outside in cold sheets as we sat inside looking out at the gray blanket that covered our world. It had rained for days already, so what was one more. As I sat visiting with Jeannette and Ray, the little silver car pulled up quickly into the parking lot and two ladies hurriedly made their way into the visitor’s center out of the unwelcome atmosphere outside. I welcomed them and as I began checking them in for a self-guided tour, I heard the words, “Walldorf Germany” and knew we were going to have an interesting visit.

As we edged our way over to the map, I began to hear more familiar words; Posey county, southern Indiana and again, Walldorf. It was then I began to realize our visitors were more than people who happened off the street, more than the occasional curious passerby; these people had a vested interest in being here, like my own. Little did I know I was about to come face-to-face with someone that had made my journey to this point possible by something she had done nearly forty years earlier. Standing before me was the descendant of the Jourdan family, members related to my own, people that had survived some of the same ordeals and trials as my own family, yet like me, they had yet to hear the rest of the story.

The name Jourdan was more than a familiarity to me. It had been the name of one of the major characters in my book, taking the name of Albert Jourdan. Not only had these people been part of my families history in reality, but the name had also lived with me in the fictional world. Now, standing there in front of the map of the Cottien Alps, was another family member waiting to hear the rest of the story, the one we had never known or been told.

Like our lives in that quiet end-of-the-world place known as southern Indiana, we had lived in total obscurity to how and why we were even alive; survivors of a holocaust most will never know. Yet, we had been drawn to a place by the same power, the same faith to which we held dear. Now, far, far away from the Midwestern place, we were once again together, again drawn by that same presence, force and story. As I shared with them, I kept finding us being drawn from the history into the story of our own lives, each intertwined with the threads of finding out who and what we were. Each time, we kept pulling ourselves back to the story of the Trail, each time digressing into another thread of what and how we had learned of the truth.

Time passed without us knowing it. As we shared our story, we went to the beginning, the genealogy research that Barbara had started when she was a tender-aged thirteen years. I later found she lost her father when he passed from this world, far too young, at 46 years of age. I had to wonder later if that what drove her to research the family history at such a young age. Regardless, her high-school aged trip to Walldorf in the late seventies proved to be a valuable asset to the research that Jeanne Miller would later create, the same work from which my Aunt June would draw in order to create the genealogy gift she would later give me in 1995, the same one that would lead me to start my own journey to Walldorf Germany, totally unaware of what or who it was to be called, “Waldensian”. There on page 79 of Jeanne’s self-published, invaluable work read the words that gave credit to Barbara Norman (of the Jourdan family) and noting her valuable contribution to Jeanne’s own research. I had read this volume many times and never realized of the additional contributor, nor did I even realize there had been someone to Walldorf, from Posey county prior to Jeanne’s own trip. Yet, here she was, standing with me, showing me the exact pages, turning to them as if she knew exactly where they were to be found, which she did.

Looking back at the pictures we quickly snapped, I didn’t realize the tears of joy that had been shed. I knew myself, more than once, I had to fight back emotions as I shared with them the stories of the journey of our people and my own.

There are few rewards in one’s life greater than the fulfillment of finding others that have unknowing joined your cause, your mission or your journey. Who am I to not think that it may just have been as rewarding for her to realize that someone was so influenced by her work that they followed a calling from the history she too helped write. In other words, the beauty of the story can be seen from both sides of the river of life. The view from one shore to the other can be the same, the reflections in the water are of the same mountain peaks beyond, the only difference is the people we see on the opposite shore.

Again and again, we found confirmation in growing up not knowing, but yet sensing there was another influence in our lives greater than our own. We both sensed a gravity of faith so profound, so solid, so real that we honestly felt our elders had a belief grounded somewhere beyond what our communities around us would allow; yet we knew nothing. Growing up feeling these emotions yet unable to confirm them led us to want to go beyond the horizon, searching “what else”, “what for” and “why” far beyond those comfortable confines of our little towns.

I don’t know if we will ever meet again. I felt as if in one single morning I found a new family, yet ancient family, one that I could easily revisit and explore for a much longer time than today’s short visit allowed. Before she left, I asked her to search for a couple of key things; The village from where we came and why, yes, why we were never told that we were Waldensian. She replied the former would be possible, the latter she doubted. We both knew that for all we had learned, there was yet something we might never know.

God often prepares us and sends things into our lives for which we are not expecting; today was no exception. I don’t know if we will ever know the “why” but we can come closer to the where today. What does it all mean, if anything? I don’t know.

This journey began with the question as to, “Why?”

Sometimes, we have to succumb to the realization that there are some things that we may never fully understand with concrete proof; these are the things for which we have to have faith. In many instances, the statement, “Our Faith is All We Had,” is never more true. Today, faith in knowing from where we came, faith in who we are and faith is what brought us to this point is all that we know.

I yearn to return to Jakob, Arktos, Jean Paul, Marik, Kristoff and many others. The world in which they live is one that seems to grow closer to mine with each passing day. Their struggles are much greater than those I face, yet through them, I can see with eyes that would otherwise know nothing about how it would feel to suffer to that extent. I don’t say this in hopes to feel that level of pain, rather, I say this for the simple fact that this helps me to learn, to grow and to prepare for what may lie ahead.

Outside, the rain continues to fall in the darkness as night has fallen.

Each day I pray for strength, guidance and God’s will to work in our lives; today was no different.

Each day, the Lord shows me another way and another path I had never envisioned.

As a raindrop falls from the sky, it doesn’t know where it will land, yet it has no other recourse than to fall, pulled by the gravity of the earth, a force known only to God. When the drop of moisture finally impacts the surface below, its force alone is negligible, yet with time, many others falling upon the same location can become a factor so great, so mighty that mountains can literally be moved, oceans created and entire populations erased. The same can be said for our lives and how we choose to use them in this world. We can be that tiny droplet, landing harmlessly and evaporating before it has a chance to be followed by others, causing no change other than the tell-tale sign of moisture, or we can be an impact on something greater than ourselves, falling where those who have gone before, creating at first, a trickle of truth that slowly turns into a flowing stream which continues to grow with time until it becomes a raging torrent rushing headlong to the sea, an ocean of change for which we have combined with the forces before us until we are something to be reckoned.

This is who we must be, regarding our past as something more than an oddity to be admired with precipitous contempt, but rather, learn and grow adding to the flow so that those lives given for the cause are not lost, give up in vain as the lone droplet, but rather, as those culminated drops of precipitation that combine repeatedly until there is something unmistakably greater than anything anyone being could have ever imagined.

This is why I continue on, without knowing …why.

“Thus says the Lord: “Behold, waters rise out of the north, And shall be an overflowing flood; They shall overflow the land and all that is in it, The city and those who dwell within; Then the men shall cry, And all the inhabitants of the land shall wail.” -Jeremiah 47:2

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as ancestry, faith, flood, geneaology, god, Indiana, Jeremiah, Jesus Christ, North Carolina, Posey County, Protestant, rain, religion, Roman Catholic, Trail of Faith, Valdese, Waldensian, Walldorf Germany

by Timothy | July 11, 2015 · 10:13 pm

A Dove-ly Vision…

As time passes, many things become clearer while others seem to slip farther away.

I know in all of this, God is working, planning and arranging life in such a way that the journey he has prepared will unfold, in all due time.

The white dove flew past me before I realized what it was. As I turned to look out my side window of the truck, I saw it fly over the Trail of Faith, toward the Ciabas Church. As it flew, its flight path took it directly over the part of the church where there would have been a steeple in a normal church, but this, of course, was not a normal church. In the blink of an eye, the dove vanished.

Days later, the vision came to me once again, but not in the same fashion, but the dove had called me closer to another time, another event, much closer to Jesus.

I was floating in clear, bluish tinted water as I watched the body of a man who was standing in the waist deep fluid before me. His clothing was made of animal hides whose hairs lifted and swayed in the gentle current about us. The white sand below reflected the sky above, yet there was no sound. Then, suddenly another person appeared as he began walking into the water from the opposite shoreline, his white robe wrapped around his legs as he strode slowly into the coolness that engulfed the scene. The man in fur waited with outstretched arms, speaking to the one entering, his voice was muffled to me below the surface. The only sounds were that of the water rippling from the man’s wake and my own heartbeat in my ears.

As the one in white entered, I felt a warmth overcome me, one of overwhelming comfort; as if I had been made anew and all the past life was forgotten; I was a child once more.

The man in furs grasped the Godly being in his arms, speaking yet again and as he did, he let the one in white fall backwards into the water, his entire body falling below the surface. The bubbles from his submersion floated skyward, tickling my ears with sound. For an instance, he turned looking in my direction. Our eyes met and I was instantly numb with fear, excitement and joy. No words nor thoughts could enter my mind, none except for those that told me the one I was watching was not of this earth, but of a greater place; one I had yet to know but would someday come to know. Before I knew it, he was lifted back up, but not before he smiled and briefly nodded as if he knew I understood. The man in furs spoke again and then a brilliant light exploded above the water, high in the sky, as a spirit in the form of a dove gently landed on the man in white’s forehead. and then a voice boomed through the air above, coursing through the waves and into my body, a magnificant voice saying, ““This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

The water around me then began to swirl and boil with excitement as everything seemed to explode with brilliance of the moment, every molecule of life was extending itself to the utmost glory of which it had been created. My whole being began to pulsate and my mind was overwhelmed with blinding light.

I awoke realizing the dream had passed and the ceiling above me was another place, another shelter from the elements that God had provided. The lingering affects of the dream were still with me, the euphoric happiness of seeing God’s son and knowing that He lives. My life is now one turn of events after another where I know not what the next day or moment will bring.

Like that being in the water, I’m floating in time, following the current of life as He has provided and where it will take me I can’t nor will I know until it happens. I know what my humaness tells me to do, but how and when it will happen I cannot know.

In all this I pray that God will continue to lead me, wisely, patiently and fruitfully.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as baptism, Ciabas Church, Dove, faith, god, Godly, Jesus, John the Baptist, journey, NC., river Jordan, Trail of Faith, Valdese, water

by Timothy | April 20, 2015 · 9:02 am

Flipping Your Town…in the name of Jesus!

A gray, overcast, soggy morning greets us today; a writer’s comforting quilt of reflection washes over me.

Yesterday as I spoke to the congregation at Cumnock UMC, there was a sense of urgency to what I was saying, something that led me to want to push my fellow Christians farther than they’ve ever gone before, to boldly go forth and espouse the Word of God. Part of me knew, that as soon as many left that front door, stepping into the world beyond, that message would fade and when confronted with the “real” world, interactions with others would face the everyday scrutiny of social adaptation we all face, myself included. However, there were many reflections as I drove to Greensboro to take Mary out for dinner in order to celebrate her 14^th birthday (yes, that is another blog, about where the time goes and how blessed we are by this beautiful, smart young woman we are watching grow before our eyes.).

Today when I checked the latest happenings with the world around us via the social media devices, I found a refreshing and boldly innovative initiative being undertaken by a church in Valdese, NC.; The River of Life. I saw where they have started a ministry to the local community called, “Flipping Valdese” #flippingValdese . It made me think back to the part of my sermon yesterday where I tried to convey how hard it is to go out into the world that we are most familiar and witness to others. I believe it is much easier to go to another country and spread much needed food and clothing to less fortunate populations and then witness to them, nearly a captive audience. But try to go out into a world that has their basic needs met, who choose to turn from the Word for one reason or another, and you will find the true test of your faith. Now, I am not condemning the work done by our many missionary teams and persons, these are all valuable and desperately needed, but few dare to go where the person we speak to is of our own kind, like minded in some aspects, to those who have all they need and turn from the Word of God because of their own worldly desires. For Jesus came into the world, and the world was made through him, but the world did not know Him.

We as Christians face many challenges in a world that grows closer to the darkness each day. To arm ourselves with the Word and to go out into the world is a bold move that many will shrink from the challenge. It takes someone with deep devotional fortitude to go out and witness to those who can just as easily tell you where to go, literally and figuratively. It is not going to get any easier with each day we are being invaded by those that want to take away our religious freedoms, our faith and our Lord. I applaud the River of Life Church and their pastoral staff led by Pastor Allen King for doing the unthinkable, the most avoidable and the most needed, witnessing to our fellow brethren.

Join with me as we lift their ministry up in prayer and think about starting your own “Flipping _____” where you fill in the blank with your town, city or community. We cannot sit back and wait. Darkness seeks to destroy us all and we can only sit back on our laurels so long before it’s too late.

Flip your community and see what miracles the Lord can do for you.

Please keep our friends, family and community in prayer as many are needing help, healing and condolences for loss.

Have a blessed week.

To learn more about owning this beautiful homestead, click here.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience

Tagged as Allen King, birthday, Christ, Christians, Cumnock UMC, faith, flipping your town, flippingValdese, god, Jesus, Missionary, Regina King, River of Life Church, Valdese, Word of God

by Timothy | April 17, 2015 · 4:30 am

Springtime on the Farm

Springtime on the Farm: A view from the porch

The air is alive with the sounds of life, the smells of blossoms and the motion of the living earth all around us on our farm. The earth has exploded from its winter slumber and it seems as if every living being is fervently making up for lost time. The hum of activity is broken by the sound of rolling thunder in the distance as dark clouds loom over the horizon, just over the tree line of the barn, the direction of most summertime storms. Soon, lightning flashes and large drops of rain began to splash playfully into the Koi pond just off the front porch. Not long after the rumbling stops, the heavens open up and the sky and terrestrial world become one. Moisture rolls in waves as water wash layers of yellow pollen down tiny tributaries of happy colors, flowing, rollicking along as birds dance in their wake.

The cherry blossoms hang heavy with the thankful moisture, like gluttonous bulbs of lust, burgeoning from their drink, their weight pulling tiny limbs downward appearing as if they might break at any moment from their toil. In the distance, geese shout for joy at the top of their lungs from the farm ponds as their watery playground is enveloped in the storm. The water splashing about them as their wings and waves unite in the ballet of the tempest refrain.

Frogs begin to join in the chorus, their syncopated melody unites with the drops of water and my soul is refreshed through and through. There is such unity in this rhythm, such a multitude of complex interaction that moves as a melody, it can only come from God. Happenchance circumstance could not have created this beautiful orchestra that wafts about me, a full 360, all angles of dimensions become as one and we are made whole.

Our earthly existence is only a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. What has been, shall be long after our life meets its end, but we can rest assured if we have prepared properly, our heavenly home will be all this and more, if only we ask, we shall receive Him. The momentary glimpses of these surreptitious moments are just a prelude to life eternal.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld His Glory, in the Glory as of the only begotten of the father, full of grace and truth.” – John 1:14

We can be saved by this Grace if in Him we believe. Amen.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as 800 Harts Creek Dr., beauty, bible, cherry blossoms, farm, frogs, Geese, god, Him, Jesus, John 1:14, Koi, lightning, pond, protrust realty, rain, Springtime, thunderstorm

by Timothy | November 29, 2014 · 5:09 am

To Uncle Bill…

Earlier this evening I received word that my Uncle Bill had passed, he was 97.

My first impression from the news was sadness mixed with joy; joy, for knowing that his soul was now with the Lord above and that it could only bring thankfulness and blessings to our memories of him. I could also take comfort that his struggles with his recent medical problems were now over.

The past year or so had been difficult for him and the family with his health issues. It seemed his age had finally caught up with him and that he was finally susceptible to the medical problems that face most elderly people. Up to then, he had led an abundantly healthy life. As long as I could recall, he and my Aunt Norma would walk every day. This was as much of their daily routine as was their morning devotional and prayer. Like Grandma and Grandpa Tron, they would rise early before dawn and sit at the kitchen table reading God’s Word and praying together, a scene as beautiful as life itself.

Unfortunately, we never got to see enough of him and Aunt Norma.

I could never recall them living close, rather always far away. When they would come home to New Harmony for visits, the family would all come into Grandpa and Grandma’s house to fellowship with our distant family. I could recall how my dad would seem to straighten up a bit more and our acts of foolishness would be less tolerated, for after all, Aunt Norma and Uncle Bill were coming. I could probably tell you without knowing they were coming to visit, just based on how everyone seemed to primp, tidy and prepare as if we were being inspected. The irony of it all was that neither Uncle Bill or Aunt Norma were at all bothered by what they saw and could care less how well we dressed or straight we sat at the table, rather, they looked at us to see within ourselves for who we were and what our souls had to say about us. Yes, they were probably the first people I had known that exhibited the characteristic of what it is to be truly Christian, for they carried themselves as such. Their devotion to their faith was not only lip service, it was factual. The adherence to the Sabbath was strict and obedient. In essence, if there were anything that caused us to walk taller and tighten our belts was their straight and narrow path upon which they walked, which caused us to want to do the same. Whenever a Sunday school lesson would ask, “Who in your life would you say are your Christian mentors,” Aunt Norma and Uncle Bill would be the first people to come to mind; that was their legacy. I can safely say that many in our family feel the same way.

So, for many years as my life continued on, I would occasionally hear of them moving to this place or that, but eventually they finally settled down and retired in Florida.

As my own life’s travels carried me from one place to another, I eventually found myself living on the outside looking in, having also moved away from New Harmony, something I would have never have imagined as a child.

Now I too had become a distant relative.

As life’s journey carried on, I was eventually able to begin attending classes at the University of Florida in Gainesville. An added benefit to my school location was that I finally found myself living within easy traveling distance to Aunt Norma and Uncle Bill’s house. So, when time allowed, I would stop by and visit them in Punta Gorda on my journeys to and from college. On our visits, we would always withdraw to the back of the house, in their Florida room, where we would sit and look out at the beautiful lake behind their home. Like some folks sit around the TV and visit, we would sit idly admiring the living scenery before us as a tranquility of peacefulness would settle upon our hearts. The soft-spoken voice of Uncle Bill would add to the passive serenity before us as we sat and discussed the myriad of tales life had presented since our last visit. Uncle Bill would always take the time to listen to my current plights and struggles and would offer gentle advice while Aunt Norma would listen and agree as we talked. I always found myself inspired from our visits, no matter how much confusion was in my life. In all my journeys, I still cherish those visits knowing they are now part of my collective memory.

On one of my trips, I spent the night and had more time to visit than normal. By chance, I reviewed the items in the bookshelf in the room in which I was staying. Besides numerous Bibles, I also found countless volumes of quarterly Bible study guides with important verses and sayings underlined or highlighted. I was struck by the depth of devotion and intensity of worship the notes in these pamphlets represented. Again, I was reminded of the sincerity of my Aunt and Uncle’s faith and how deeply compassionate their lives had been being devoted to God and the work to which they were called. During that same visit, they took me by their church where they had worked tirelessly for many years creating a food bank and clothes exchange for the less fortunate in their area. Their travels away from home were limited in part due to their commitment to the church. I recall once when I asked about them visiting New Harmony and their daughter who lived in the northeast they replied that they had trouble getting away from the food bank since it was hard to find enough volunteers to man the store while they were away. I was confounded at this but realized they were so devoted to their belief that it was unthinkable for them to leave something they felt called to lead. Once again, I had to admire them for their obligation.

Ninety-seven years is a long, prosperous life to live. I know my cousins, Sarita and Robert, will miss their father. I know Aunt Norma will never be the same without Uncle Bill by her side. For all of these family members and more I ask the Lord to look over them and provide them the comfort they will need in the coming days and weeks ahead. I am very remiss about not writing that letter to Uncle Bill before he passed. He wasn’t one to read emails, so I had planned to write him a letter and print it out then mail it the old fashioned way. Just this past weekend I thought of it again and realized time was quickly passing for us all. Yet, now I know he knows all I had to tell and more and again, for that I am grateful.

So this evening, as I reflect over the far too few times in life we had to spend together, I realize that my Uncle Bill was more than an elder of the family, he was our spiritual leader as well. His and Aunt Norma’s legacy will live on through the rest of us and for that I know we will always be thankful.

May God bless you and keep you Uncle Bill; till we meet again at the Eastern Gate,

– love your nephew, Timothy.

Filed under Inspirational, Religion

Tagged as Aunt Norma, Florida, florida room, grandma, grandpa, Indiana, lake, New Harmony, Tron, Uncle Bill, University of Florida

by Timothy | September 10, 2014 · 3:03 am

Nap of Ascension

Have you ever awakened from a dream, feeling remorse, feeling a loss for something that was so wonderful, so beautiful during the vision that you had wished it could have continued forever?

That was the case for me today.

After waking up from my nap, I had the feeling that I was visited by an angelic being and when she left me, I literally felt a loss. I say she, only because I felt comforted as if from a motherly figure; warm, compassionate, loving. Her true image I could not recall, having never caught a glimpse of the being’s true form; most of the time she was nothing more than a vapor, a whisper of a body that floated nearby.

In the course of the dream, she visited me several times, teaching me, leading me into a world that was parallel to my own, yet far beyond the reaches of normal consciousness. Each visit I learned and watched as she taught me about true love and how compassion triumphs over all darkness. We watched and observed sight unseen as people dealt with heart wrenching dilemmas, each one a lesson for our ethereal classroom. I can’t explain the feelings or scenes I witnessed, other than after each one I felt both pulled to the depths of despair for what I saw but at the same time uplifted to a higher spiritual plain from what eventually transpired, as if God had directed the people through hell and back. Each lesson built upon the former. After each visit I was returned back to my former self, back where I was still within my own body, but knowing I had returned from beyond. Each time I was brought home, I yearned more and more for the next time she would return until I was worried my anticipation was becoming real. Those around me in my dream realized there was a change taking place, but they did not know its source; they only appreciated the metamorphosis and welcomed it. The change was obviously a good thing. Their acknowledgement was nothing more than an indirect observation; something they could sense but like looking straight ahead while driving down a road, they could see if from their peripheral vision, yet its focus wasn’t clear, so it they disregarded it.

My final contact was bittersweet as emotions flowed from each of us, knowing this was the end of our journey together. I felt guilty about the time we spent together although I had not broken any vows or been unfaithful in any manner; yet, it was the knowing that my soul had been uplifted by another whose spiritual embrace had left me changed that ultimately left me with the feeling of culpability. Like dew on the leaf in the early morning light, the tender touch of the heavenly breath had remained, if only fleeting but real.

I awoke feeling as if there had been a death, as if the angelic being had died, yet I wasn’t sad. There had been something gained from the experience so rewarding that the loss was insignificant to the warmth of memory left behind. The scene of the disciples in their final hour with Jesus before he ascended into heaven for the last time came to mind. They too were saddened by his ascension, but the joy of knowing and experiencing their time with the son of God overshadowed any self-pity for his physical departure.

“And He led them out as far as Bethany, and He lifted up His hands and blessed them. Now it came to pass, while He blessed them, that He was parted from them and carried up into heaven. And they worshiped Him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and were continually in the temple praising and[j] blessing God. Amen.” – Luke 24:50-53

One can only imagine the glory that flowed that day as the disciples returned to the temple praising and blessing God. If only we could reach our brethren today in the same manner such that all Christians might be so uplifted that they walk down the street praising and blessing God out loud; glory, hallelujah what a day that would be!

I may never know who or what it was that I met in my dream today but I can honestly say I won’t be upset to meet him or her once again. Grace received is grace embraced and for this we can only be uplifted to His righteousness.

Peace and Grace to all.