Tag Archives: Jesus

by | August 8, 2021 · 8:34 pm

To Return

“I will never forget thy precepts: for with them thou hast quickened me.” – Psalm 119:93

Rising this morning, the haunting memory of a thought, like that of a vapor upon a distant hillside, shadowed my presence. It was here, knowing that the past week or so has been a struggle not only physically due to an illness but also spiritually. The latter was due to the former, which had put me off of the schedule that had been developing over the summer. This change put me at odds with the ability to walk in the spirit as much as my daily routine had been allowing. It was troubling to feel this way, knowing how easily we are thrown off course. Thankfully, earlier this week, my footsteps began to return somewhat to that familiar path.

Tanawha Trail, Blueridge Mountains, NC.

Preparing to enter the Tanawha Trail, we parked at the trailhead off old 221, a gravel road stretching from Blowing Rock to Foscoe. There next to the parking area, where Black Angus cattle grazing on the lush green hillside. At the time, only the sight of livestock had quickened my heart. All those years raising them on the farm back in Chatham had ingrained in me a special connection to the beast. Here again on hills above us, those summertime hides, “fat and slick,” as Uncle John used to say, glistened in the morning sun. Suddenly, within a moment, it made one feel home again – that it was as if you had walked through that ancient doorway of memory and entered back into the loving fold of family. It was precisely what was needed to rejuvenate the spirit within.

Inspired as only God can do, we are often amiss without him, as we mistakenly feel, but in these times of isolation, we are drawn ever more close. As the cliché says, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” So, it seems sometimes we need to be reminded that without him, we are like a ship adrift on the sea with no rudder to guide our way.

It always impresses me how God knows what takes us back to our roots, to the place where we first encountered the world. For some, it’s a unique park or vacation spot. For others, like myself, it is the abundant adventures and experiences of our rural childhood. For me, it was exploring those vast pastures, forests, and lands of the farms of southern Indiana. There in those hills and hollers of the Midwest, God’s creation became part of my life. From those early impressions, when all seems confused and lost, there is a baseline, so to speak, to which God knows my thoughts can be reset too. From there, those formational memories, one can once more journey forth to where their next footsteps will lead. The reference to technology is not mistaken but purposeful.

That pasture’s very imagery, the one in which the Tanawha Trail ran through, its slope, the cattle, and the sunrise shedding its morning glow upon its face, reminded me of that long-ago mountain. So often, when we revisit places of our youth, that object which once seemed so massive now has shrunk in size. Yes, that mountain of my childhood was actually little more than a slight rise in the ground compared with where we now stood – we called it Sled Hill. In those distant recollections, it was a place where you could stand on the edge of that tiny town, New Harmony, and survey the entirety of everything below from the rooftop perspective. There interlaced with rising oaks and sycamore trees were the peaks and steeples of homes and churches. It was the first time that the feeling of standing upon the earth and looking out across the vista below felt closer to God. There, in that shadow of where life’s journey would eventually lead, there was no concept from which to compare that scene. It was forever etched into the mind as what it must be like to stand near the top of the world.

In the moment, surrounded by a host of relatives, we feel like this will be where we spend the rest of our days. In our heart of hearts, we are content with that. For decades it was the way things went. But then times changed. The world we knew changed, and suddenly we found ourselves thrust into the never-ending stream of advances in humanity. We were forced to adapt and overcome a very different lifestyle from the life of our forefathers. Secular society told us that we had to “make something of ourselves,” whatever that was supposed to mean. But those of us raised in Sunday School had heard something else, that alone we can do nothing. Thus began the conflict of interest.

Some take it upon themselves to believe that they alone can make “it” happen. Others realize, some sooner than others, that we can never do it on our own. Some go off to college. Others join the military. Some seek to escape the privation of that quiet way of life, seeking adventure or wealth. Either way, very few remained behind to stay in the place where we all thought we would never leave. Those that remained wonder about the lives of those gone on. Those that had to leave, or chose to leave, never forgot from whence they came. The question always burned within them, “What if I had never left?”

There is a saying that of itself seems trivial, but when it is explored more deeply, its truth resonates through the ages, “Once you leave home, you can never go back.” For what we find, is that even though you might physically be able to return, you are never the same once you leave. Your growth through the sheer experiences of whatever you found on your journey changes you. It is then, once you return, you see with new eyes what one could not explain to you before you left. Painfully, as we feel those around us unable to relate to what has changed us, we seek to find connections where there once was no question about relationships. However, we then discover that what is around us is not all that there is in life.

So we take a break from the reunion, walking out to that familiar landmark, whatever it might be, the beach, that old home place, or for me, the crest of Sled Hill, and pause for a moment and think about all that has transpired since we last stood on this spot. We find that the terrestrial has changed very little. Oh, there might be a fallen tree, a sand dune out of place, or perhaps a new roof on the old home place, but that which was physical remains the same. We suddenly realize it’s not the place that has changed, but us.

In Jesus’ day, he tried to convey to his disciples this same message, that once you turn to serve God in the way in which he asked, you would be forever altered. There would be no going back to who you once were, “And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.”[1] Even as they found their understanding of Jesus’ parables and teachings challenging to comprehend, it was even more so for those Pharisees and Chief Priests. Even when Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews, met with Jesus, he too could not comprehend what Jesus was saying even though he sought him out, knowing that something about him was calling him to believe. As Jesus explained, “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit. Nicodemus answered and said unto him, How can these things be? Jesus answered and said unto him, Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness. If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven.      And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.“[2]

They could not begin to wrap their minds around God in the flesh, let alone that Jesus told them that they did not know him or his Father. “Then cried Jesus in the temple as he taught, saying, Ye both know me, and ye know whence I am: and I am not come of myself, but he that sent me is true, whom ye know not.“[3]

Like returning home, once we are changed by our travels, there is something likewise that will never be the same to those who have not found Christ in their lives. Until they take that similar path in life, those that stayed behind find it odd that you don’t want to go hang out beneath the bridge, drink beer, and skip rocks across the river. It is difficult, if not impossible, to convey to them that you have changed. You no longer enjoy the things of the flesh but instead find it more desirable to find those who are lost and engage them, striving to bring them closer to the Father.

Since those humble beginnings, God’s plan has led me to stand on the earth and look out upon remarkable vestiges of landscape. From my current home in the Blue Ridge Mountains to the mountains in our western states, to those beautiful, inspiring Waldensians valleys in the Cottien region of the Alps in Europe, God has opened my eyes to more of his creation as time would allow, and likewise, my mind to the understanding of his word. Although time seems to be running out, there are many more mountains to climb and much more to realize. Therefore, each day that there remains of this life, it is with a passion and desire that we should seek God in all of what he has bestowed upon us and to go wherever he calls.

From standing atop Sled Hill to walking up the Tanawha trail, there comes a time when we can feel the connection – how our past has shaped our future. Our walk with the Lord prepares us for what is to come. When you can sense a presence more wondrous than your own, to know that when we reach for that fateful day to finally stand, or rather kneel in his presence, we will then know what it has all been about. It is then we can only hope to hear the words, “Welcome home child, welcome home.”

We shall then gladly say, “Thanks be to God.”

[1] Luke 9:62 KJV

[2] John 3:8-15 KJV

[3] John 7:28 KJV

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | June 13, 2021 · 8:46 am

An Unexpected Friend

“The brain is considered to be the primary generator and regulator of emotions; however, afferent signals originating throughout the body are detected by the autonomic nervous system (ANS) and brainstem, and, in turn, can modulate emotional processes.”[1]

There were blue patches between the clouds as the sunrise sought to find a hole through which to shine. As my footsteps reached the landing behind Anne-Belk Hall to start my morning run, raindrops began to fall. The warmth of the season was still distant, but the air, humid and close, was welcoming, so the sparse rainfall was likewise a comfort.

Belk Library – Appalachian State University

Running on campus is not one of my favorite locations. It is much more visually rewarding and inspiring to find oneself on those trails leading up our nearby mountains. Yet, today was a short day, so the pavement and sidewalks of the urban jungle were my forests this morning. As is my new tradition, I began quoting the Gospel of John as my legs began to propel me forward. Yesterday’s run was still lingering in these old joints, but the joy of finding oneself welcoming the dawn while in the Word is something to behold. So, pushing on, the words began to overwhelm the pain, and soon it was more of an emotion, the spirit, if you will, carrying me onward.

The sentences laced together like a vine weaving its way up a majestic oak until these words escaped my lips, “Then said the Jews, Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it up in three days? But he spake of the temple of his body.”[2] At that moment, just before me, was a young man running in my direction, smiling broadly. At first, it appeared that he might know me, so welcoming was his smile. My eyes searched the face but could not place it. As he drew close, he said, “Mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all,” was my reply. We were just opposite the street from Stick Boy Bakery.

He turned around and began running alongside me on the sidewalk. I quickly introduced myself, and he said his name was Max. I mentioned to him that he caught me in chapter 2, and so I repeated the verse in which he had suddenly appeared. When I got to the line, “But he spake of the temple of his body,” my new friend literally leaped as if he had just hurdled over a log in the path. “Wow, I was just meditating on just such a philosophical aspect of training; how the body and the mind are connected. Keeping the body fit helps the mind remain active, alert, and able to grow.” He looked at me with wild eyes in amazement at the confirmation and the rarity of occasion that someone had spoken of something upon which he too had been thinking.

Likewise, as he spoke, my mind was trying once more to wrap around the Godly coincidence to which I had been afforded. “Where does that come from,” my new friend asked, with regard to the scripture.

“Chapter 2 of the Gospel of John,” came my measured breath as we made our way up the hill toward Daniel Boone Inn.

“What’s that,” he asked?

In my mind, the words, “OH MY LORD,” were screaming, followed by, “Thank you, Jesus, for sending me someone to whom I could share this morning.”

At this point, I want to stop and make a point.

No matter where we go, no matter what our course of trajectory the day’s plans take us, we should always be ready to give an account of the Gospel. 1 Peter 3:15, “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.” Earlier in the week, it became apparent that I was going through one of those despondent episodes of sanctification; whereby, you find it challenging to remain in the spirit, and God seems to be ignoring you. This sense of being alone seemed to convey something I recently read about what C.S. Lewis wrote, “The real thing is the gift of the Holy Spirit which can’t usually be—perhaps not ever—experienced as a sensation or emotion. The sensations are merely the response of your nervous system. Don’t depend on them. Otherwise, when they go, and you are once more emotionally flat (as you certainly will be quite soon), you might think that the real thing had gone too. But it won’t. It will be there when you can’t feel it. May even be most operative when you can feel it least.”[3]

And so, as my new friend began to chime in with his interpretations, it became apparent that God had created the calm before the storm. How much more remarkable is the dramatic production when there is a sequence of acts in which little to nothing happens before the climaxing scene? For in these moments, the tension slowly builds so that it has a greater impact upon the senses when the dramatic conclusion erupts. The same was the case on this particular day so that as the sun was slowly rising above the distant mountainside, in the dusk of those shadowed roadways, a day full of fellowship, sharing, and evangelism had just begun.

As we continued our way up King Street, heading south, Max mentioned how Rappers, with all of their gold jewelry, were saying that, yes, all of this was nothing compared to being here and now, to the legitimacy of life regardless of wealth and pleasure. Some of the things he related to scripture were very strange, and repeatedly I had to ask him what he meant. He would then reword his comments until they were along the same lines of language that I could follow, for it seemed as if we were from different planets regarding how he spoke and to what I could comprehend. The voice of today’s youth, imparted upon by the worldly attributes of music, social media, and video, lends to another realm of interpretation that I never cease to stop learning – it is ever-changing. To reach this generation, we must learn to speak in their voice, as strange and foreign as it may sound.

The farther we ran, the more it sounded as if my new friend was speaking from a background of faith, but it was difficult to fully know, so relegated were his words in that alternate word speak of his. When he got to the point where he mentioned how we were like beings surrounded by dark forces, it triggered my thoughts, and from my mouth, like a well springing up into eternal life, the scriptures of John 1 began to flow, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” Max remarked how what he just heard was so powerful and true. He went on to continue to speak in his own words the scripture he had just received. Knowing that this was his way of comprehending, I remained mostly silent and listened, correcting by suggestion only when he had completely fallen off track.

By now, we were making our way back to my office, moving up Howard Street toward Peacock Hall, the School of Business. Our conversation was moving along faster, especially since that stretch of roadway went downhill, affording my lungs the extra space with which to literally gasp for air. Max continued to seek more of what he had heard, and as time would allow, we continued to cover as much as possible. But before we knew it, we were standing back at the base of Ann-Belk Hall. It seemed as if our train had abruptly pulled into the station, and for a moment, we stood staring at one another, wondering if we wanted to get off or not. Feeling like this was one of those moments where Jesus had said, “Herein is not the saying true, one soweth and another reapeth,” it was difficult to say goodbye so soon. God had provided an opportunity, and it was in that instance of time that He allowed me to share with one that was ready to receive.

So often, when we feel as if nothing is happening in our spiritual lives, God is there, working out something in the background. In times of isolation and quiet, we must remind ourselves that He is preparing a way even when we feel like we are disconnected. When those periods of isolation seem to be a deafening roar of silence, focus on what you can control; like your own being. Like the temple of the body to which Jesus had meant, we must remain mindful of how we treat this vessel. Not only should we think in the manner of things to which we ingest, both materially and spiritually, but how we care for in our physical strength. Not only should our bodies be kept whole through consumption but also through activity. If we care for what God has endowed us with, how much greater will be our ability to focus on Him because of a strong mind and body?

Lastly, keep in mind that seeds are planted at the times we least suspect.

Remember to always carry your parcel of seeds with you, for you never know when God will break the ground and ready the soil for planting.

Continue always in prayer and supplication for that day when the time is right, when those prayers are answered or when you are asked to step up and speak His word.

Thanks be to God.

[1] Jerath R, Crawford MW. How Does the Body Affect the Mind? Role of Cardiorespiratory Coherence in the Spectrum of Emotions. Adv Mind Body Med. 2015 Fall;29(4):4-16. PMID: 26535473.

[2] John 2:20-21 KJV

[3] The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume III: Narnia, Cambridge, and Joy 1950-1963. Copyright © 2007 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved. Used with permission of HarperCollins Publishers. Words to Live By: A Guide for the Merely Christian. Copyright © 2007 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational, Running

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | May 19, 2021 · 7:15 am

Little is Much

Standing in line this morning waiting to prepay for the limited gas at the pump, I listened to those around me talk or shuffled their feet in silence. The sign on the gas pump read, “$20 limit Pre Pay Inside.” Quietly listening to those voices around me, my thoughts turned to how this moment may have been prepared in advance – the unlikeliness of being in the presence of others that normally would not be possible yielding the opportunity to witness. Yet, still finding myself waking up, there I stood in calm repose, not saying a word. It was enough just to watch the lone cashier hurriedly ringing up each person, as most had come in for the same reason. It would have been easy to have been upset that we had been required to come inside to pay before pumping. In fact, the whole issue of why this had happened could lead to a myriad of political to social topics that would only inflame and agitate the parties in close proximity to the discussion. As human nature had advanced itself to the degree of manifestation of greed upon self-preservation, many had begun hoarding gas. The viral videos of people pumping gas into Walmart and trash bags were nearly incredulous. Had people lost their minds? Instead of focusing on the disparaging images of a society gone mad, my thoughts purposed toward how this moment could be used to share God’s love in a world that seems to spin out of control more each day.

When it was my time to pay, I told the attendant which pump, and then she said only, “Okay, now it’s ready,” meaning the card reader had been ready to receive my $20. “Have a blessed day,” I said after the transaction was complete. She quickly replied, “Thank you.” And that was all…

Was the opportunity to witness to others verbally wasted?

Did my sparse, if nonexistent words make a difference in anyone’s day?

Scripture tells us in James, “My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.” It is not always necessary to speak a volume of words to reach those around you. Sometimes, as the saying goes, “simplicity is elegance.” Likewise, as Paul wrote in his letter to Colossians, “Walk in wisdom toward them that are without.”

Sometime later, as my car rounded the bend on 321 heading into Blowing Rock, the sky was ablaze with a brilliant red-orange sunrise. The light from the weekend campfire at the Denton Bluegrass festival splayed into my thoughts. There, the scripture from Colossians had first hit me. Although my brothers and I were there to enjoy the music, there was another purpose we served as we walked among so many that were lost. As the same sun hit the horizon, the view from the campsite was no less breathtaking. The morning rays poured over the Word of God that lay before me, and it was as if the voice of God spoke. From the chill of the air, the warmth of the words poured over my heart and warmed me within.

Morning Sunrise on the Word of God

Too often, we feel that the mission field is in some far-off land, not there is anything wrong with missions or those who serve in them abroad. We overlook that very thing before us – that need of our family, neighbors, and friends. While enjoying the music and fun of this past week’s festival, it quickly became apparent that there were many, even friends of mine, that were not fully vested. One must promptly remind those reading this, that I do not put myself above others, nor do I consider myself more righteous than any, for there is no not one righteous, no not one. Yet, as we desire to become more Christ-like in our daily walk, it quickly becomes apparent the differences in who we have become versus those around us.

We need not be great orators to reach those with whom we seek to help. Our actions often speak louder than words. From the choice of our attire to the music we listen to or play on, our instruments represent the walk we profess to tread.

As we return to our daily lives, let us be mindful that there are many, too many, who are lost and need a beacon of hope and light. A simple kind word summonsed from a pure heart is far greater than an enlightened speech from the loftiest podium. Let us then share God’s love in all that we do and be ever grateful when we say, “Thanks be to God.”

“Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time. Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” – Col. 4:5-6

“But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts; and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.”    – 1 Peter 3:15

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | May 16, 2021 · 8:37 pm

Sometimes You Gotta Stir Up the Water

My journey to church this morning revealed the beauty of God’s creation in the flowers of spring. There is the reminder even in the third week of May that winter’s grasp is not gone. It is Blackberry Winter now in the mountains of North Carolina. Here and there, depending on your elevation, you can find pockets of white blanketing the landscape. Unlike the frozen precipitation, these are the tiny white flowers of the indigenous wild blackberries. They not only symbolize that in roughly two months, there will be the ripe, delectable berries for which they are named, but it also symbolizes that the last cold spell is upon us. To many folks, the temperatures drop far below what is considered normal during this time of year. While there have been many summer-like days with temperatures nearing the 80’s, during Blackberry Winter, there can even be a late frost with nighttime temperatures dropping near freezing or below.

Blackberries in Bloom, Collettsville, NC.

While this seemingly unseasonable weather is not uncommon, it is still a shock to our senses. We quickly grow accustomed to the more leisurely days of warmth and look forward to the summertime, where living out-of-doors is more pleasant.

Why is it we so promptly become complacent in our lives and take the path of least resistance?

One could surmise that is simply our nature. We perceive the world around us through our senses, our natural instincts. When we rely on these alone, we are nothing more than the beasts of the field. Yet, God made us distinctly different from the wild animals of the forests and the beasts of the field. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.”[1] Although we are of the earth, we have been given the ability to choose to serve a higher power – Yahweh. But too often, we get caught up in the worries and struggles of living from day to day and forget, if we knew at all, what our purpose is in life. Some never realize this or awaken to know God but live from birth to death in a valley of life where a shadow of death overshadows all that they do. “But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.”[2]

It was in this vein of thought this past week that the scene of Jesus walking on the sea stood out.

First, in the Gospel of John, “And when even was now come, his disciples went down unto the sea,And entered into a ship, and went over the sea toward Capernaum. And it was now dark, and Jesus was not come to them.And the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew.So when they had rowed about five and twenty or thirty furlongs, they see Jesus walking on the sea, and drawing nigh unto the ship: and they were afraid.20 But he saith unto them, It is I; be not afraid.Then they willingly received him into the ship: and immediately the ship was at the land whither they went.”[3]

From the Gospel of Matthew, “And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away.And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone.But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary.And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea.And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear.But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.”[4]

Now, there is much to unwrap in these few lines of scripture. But if we focus on the idea of how the natural man perceives the world around him, and from this, either believes or rejects the supernatural, then we can find a greater meaning in this miracle. We see not only that Jesus walked on water, but that he called one out of the boat to do likewise. Yet, immersed in the surrounding passages are concepts that apply to us today.

 “The disciples went down to the sea and entered into the ship. It was dark and Jesus had not come with them.” The ship was their comfort zone. Several of his disciples had been fishermen. Their familiarity with the Sea of Galilee would have made this travel almost routine. Like so many things in our lives, we stick with what is familiar. Going outside of our box is uncomfortable, yet Jesus told his disciples at the end of the gospel of Matthew to, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations..”[5] He wanted them to leave everything behind, going to the ends of the earth if necessary. But before they were prepared to embark on such a journey, they had to be shown that they were capable. When we sit in our institutional churches and hear the weekly sermon, too often when we walk out the doors to go to lunch, we leave it behind. We put our faith right next to the Bible on the shelf, where it waits until the following Sunday – if at all.

Then there is the point that Jesus did not go with them, “It was dark, and Jesus had not come with them.” As with Philip, when he said that “This he said to prove him knowing himself what he would do,” it is probably safe to say that Jesus knew in advance that he would purposely surprise his disciples. Yet, he didn’t just show up walking on the sea in the dark. It was far worse than that, for, “The sea arose by reason of a great wind which blew.” In the last scene of episode 4 of Season 2 of the series “The Chosen,”[6] Peter makes a comment regarding the healing of the man by the pool on the Sabbath when Jesus could have easily waited, and Jesus replies, “Sometimes you gotta stir up the water.”

The disciples knowingly went out on the Sea of Galilee at night. Was this by choice, or was this planned? The winds often pick up on large bodies of water during the day, so the night crossing would have been safer and easier under normal circumstances. But these were anything but normal circumstances. Remember their comfort zone – the boat? Knowing that these seasoned sailors would haven’t been bothered by the night crossing, I like to think that Jesus did a little stirring up of the water that night. When we are shoved out of our comfort zone, it is then we realize we need Him most. So it was, that dark stormy night, after they had rowed 25 or 30 furlongs, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and drawing nigh unto their boat, and they were afraid. Yes, grown men, hardened sailors were now scared, so much so that Christ had to call to them, “It is I, be not afraid.”

Now, the Gospel of Matthew next tells of how Peter, possibly not believing that it was really Jesus, calls out to the Spirit, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.” We must wonder if it was Peter’s disbelief or was it the fact that he was emboldened by the miracle that he called out to Jesus. Nonetheless, Jesus answers and simply says, “Come.” Peter then, fully vested in his belief, gets out of the boat.

Friends, this is the moment that we should all gasp!

For this is the exact parallel to our lives today. We have been asked to go to all nations, making disciples for Christ, yet, we cannot leave the church walls before we are swept back into the boat. We fail to even dare step out of our comfort zone for fear of drowning. Yes, it is a leap of faith. Yes, it is daring and will require more of your dedication and commitment than ever before, but think for a moment of those first few steps that Peter took.

For a few brief seconds, a man was walking on the substance that sustains life. It was not frozen; it was swashing all around; the sea was boisterous, scary, and dark. Yet, Peter stood on the water as if it were solid ground, as did the Son of God! For those brief seconds, Peter was able to walk again where Yahweh stood. When we step out in faith, the impossible becomes possible. When we put God at the center of our lives, we are no longer a slave to the sins of this world. We are set free.

Leaving the confines of our comfort level will never be easy. We cannot expect to succeed at every step. In fact, we will be forced to rely on Yahweh all the more. The next few steps that Peter took revealed how quickly we lose focus. For in that brief instance of time, as he stood on water, Peter quickly realized the tumultuous seas around him and began to sink. As John the Baptist told his disciples, “He must increase that I may decrease.” And so it is with us. The more we give up, the more we rely on Him to provide for us.

Lastly, we see Peter returning to the ship with Jesus. As the Gospel of John tells it, “They willingly received him into the ship.” Soaking wet, having nearly drowned, Peter is now humiliated but relieved to be back into the confines of the vessel. However, he is not alone, for Jesus is with them all. As we picture that dark night on the sea of Galilee, those men once more were shown how the impossible becomes possible when we give it all to God.

But there is one last thought to this story, one final twist – Christ got into the boat.

“So, what is your point,” you ask?

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”[7]

Getting into the boat, Jesus entered into their world. He didn’t have to ride in a boat, yet, as God coming to earth in the form of a man, Christ got into the boat so that he could prove he too was the Son of Man.

When the weather turns cold after we’ve become accustomed to the warm, beautiful cloudless days of sunshine, let us not grow bitter, for the landscape becomes white of blooms of the Blackberry Winter. Let not your world be troubled by the change, but embrace it and seek to go beyond what is comfortable.

Take that step out in faith and watch what impossible becomes possible.

And remember, the first step might be the scariest, but it will always be remembered as the best.

Thanks be to God.

[1] John 3:6 KJV

[2] 1 Corinthians 2:14 KJV

[3] John 6:16-21 KJV

[4] Matthew 14:22-29 KJV

[5] Matthew 28:19 KJV

[6] https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBXOFnNTULFaAnj24PAeblg

[7] John 3:16-17 KJV

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

by | March 16, 2021 · 6:06 am

Through the Eyes of a Child

Cast into your mind (or click the link) the melody of “Wayfaring Stranger,” playing as an instrumental number. It’s solitude, its loneliness preparing you for what comes next. The words begin to meld into the memory as one and together present a cinematic scene so forlorn, so haunting; you cannot help but be drawn in.

“I am a poor, wayfaring stranger…“

Gray skies overcast the scene before me.

Like a cloud of disbelief, the entourage of man, cattle, and feline moved slowly into the beckoning opening of the dairy barn. As a methodical procession, in some unforeseen rhythmic cadence, their existence moved as one. Those of whom the urgency was being pressed upon by their natural state, to be milked, another the knowledge of labor from which life itself is sustained, and the latter, the offering of something to which they had not labored, but only entered into another’s toil. The beasts, united by nothing more than the instinctual desire for relief of pressure and the welcoming call of hunger being satisfied therein, came willingly. Their solemn lowing as if greeting the time answered only by the cats’ thirsty meows. The solitary man, his thoughts straggle along like those hooved footsteps before him, recalls the past when so many more had been with him – beast and child. For this day, another young soul, his eyes fixed upon the moment, would unknowingly forever have this scene etched into his young memory. The elder didn’t dwell on what the grandchild might remember, only that he was proud to have him tagging along – another one that he might share the love of being connected to God’s creation through the lifelong servitude to farming – providing for others what they cannot fulfill of their own accord. There had been many other grandkids, many other children to which he had shown this daily routine. Some had helped when they were old enough. Others found it nothing more than a novelty – an exercise in the quainter side of life. Yet, the one that watched with longing eyes had the soul of an old spirit, one that appreciated more deeply the things to which he was shown – reasoning the old man could understand.

Organic milk, the truth from cow to carton | Toronto Star

The shadow of the barn’s darkness encapsulated their entourage as they entered. The dusty, fly-specked windows added to the grayness of the light. Like spectral images, the cows one-by-one found their own stall. Wandering to the long concrete trough built into the ancient floor, they began mouthing the sweet-smelling grain the grandfather had placed earlier, long before they had been called. Only when he had prepared their table for dining would he step out of the barn and painfully walk to a point where he knew they could hear his call. His high-pitched shrill, “Sook cow,” echoed off the other outbuildings, ringing into the foothills. They would come as if summonsed from another time, ambling slowly, milk bags swaying as their procession made its way down the long lane, which was bordered by matching wooden fencing on both sides. The Catalpa trees shadowed their walk, like pillars to the sky, their gray trunks, now in the midst of winter’s late clutches.

And the song continued, “Traveling through this world below…”

They had heard of Jesus’ healing powers. Like strangers from the midst, they came. The Passover, the feast of the Jews was nigh when Christ went up on the mountain to sit with his disciples. From whence he came, most did not know. For this day, he had arrived to serve those who could not provide of their own accord. Unlike the farmer, he had not beckoned them, yet they came seeking to be healed, misguided by their misunderstanding of his message. For what Jesus sought was to provide for them that they might see the miracles and believe him when he spoke of eternal life, a place where he would go and prepare a place for us; a place where disease and mourning would have no home.

Meanwhile, the melody plays on, “There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger in that bright land to which I go…”

As Jesus sat with his disciples in supposed reclusion, themselves alone and discussed all that had been said, all that had been done, he realized they were not alone. “When Jesus then lifted up his eyes, and saw a great company come unto him, he saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat? And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one of them may take a little.”

One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said, “There is a lad here that hath five loaves of barley and two small fishes, but what are these among so many.?” What came next was a miracle to which none other had yet to be compared, the feeding of the multitude, some say far greater than five-thousand. And yet, what became of the lad who had offered to share his lunch? With eyes of wonder, he indeed beheld the miracle that transpired. For the rest of his life, as a baseline for living from that day forward, he would forever be changed.

The child watched his grandfather continue the routine operation of milking the cattle. His eyes were like a sponge unto his mind, absorbing all that he could, impressing this time with his grandfather upon his soul. Etched into his heart, the scene before them began to unfold.

One by one, the dairy herd would enter their spot, as if on cue, and begin eating the grain that the farmer had already prepared for them in the concrete trough. Calmly, in the memorized routine of the bi-daily chore, he would slip up alongside each one of them, patting them on the back, speaking assuredly to them, like a life-long friend, and then gently latch their harness in place to keep them honest during the milking. After all his girls were stationed, he would then grab the two buckets, again prepared in advance, one of the cleaning solution, the other for the harvest of their offering. Their teats would be swollen, some dripping, in anticipation of the service their owner provided – their relief would be short-lived, for the dairy cow must be routinely milked twice a day, as long as her supply remains “fresh,” as they say.

Sitting his short-legged stool near her side, the man grabs the well-worn rag from the edge of one bucket, washes it around in the solution, wringing it out with hands of age and firmness until it was only damp to the touch. He would then wipe down the underside of the cow’s bag and all four of her milking teats. Placing the rag back on the edge of the bucket, he would then grab the milk bucket, the stainless still container, and put it underneath. Those ancient hands, so strong but so gentle, would then begin the process of milking. Here and there, the old girl’s tail swats instinctively at an unseen fly. The elder reaches up to remind her of his presence, and the rhythmic process continues. The streams of bountiful creaminess are seen and heard as their initial crescendos pulsate into the pail, like beacons of hope to the ears of those feline onlookers, the cats come running to the backside of that man and beast coupling. There they sit, licking their whiskers in anticipation, some yawning as if to say we are tired of waiting. When the milk bucket is nearing capacity, the supple hand gently begins shooting streams of the rhythmic pulsations to the furry onlookers. Their faces become plastered with the creamy goodness. The grandfather’s aim is perfect. The years of practice have served him well, as those receiving ungraciously their welcome entrustment. Some, so overwhelmed with the delectability of that fulfillment, the cats begin to stand on their hind legs, reaching for the whimsical ever-rising stream the farmer playfully spreads. Finally, the last remnants of her utters contents are relinquished into the pail, and once more, he wipes down the flesh of her underside. Before moving onto the next beast of the field, he reaches up and unhooks her collar from the bindings.

Meanwhile, she continues to chew the delicious grain as grandpa slides over to the next stall and repeats the process. Eventually, the cats, being filled with their beggar’s meal, wander off. Some stop nearby and begin the cleaning process, their faces first, wiping the bounty from their whiskers with wide-tongue swipes. Lazily, they find their favorite nook within the confines of the barn – their sanctuary from the world.

“I’m going there to see my Father and all my loved ones who’ve gone on. I’m just going over Jordan, I’m just going over home…”

Frantic to be in his presence, to be fed once again, the crowd of witnesses took shipping over the sea of Galilee to find Jesus on the other side of the sea. When they found him, they had yet to realize the significance of the miracle. They only saw it through the natural eyes of man, the instinctual existence of being fed for the profit of the flesh, unbeknownst that they had just received a feeding of the spirit – the true intention of Christ. “Jesus answered them and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Ye seek me, not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled. Labor not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him hath God the Father sealed.” So often, those who pursue the concept of Christianity without seeking the relationship with God are merely acting as those barn cats or those who had witnessed the miracle of the feeding of the multitude. Their commitment was simply at face value – they had no skin in the game, as the saying goes. Unlike the disciples, those on the periphery of belief were there for the freebies, for the show, and for what they could get out of it that would satisfy their earthly needs.

And the haunting strains of the song continue, “I know dark clouds will gather ’round me, I know my way is hard and steep. But beauteous fields arise before me, where God’s redeemed, their vigils keep…”

The children would never forget the things they saw that day. One, a poor farmer’s grandchild, the other possibly an orphan looking to find comfort in the loving arms of a new Father – each having scenes of life unfold before them so that they would be forever changed. Their recollection of that time etched into their souls would be recalled once more to those that would listen. In the autumn years of life, they would speak of a time before, a moment when what was perceived as the simple task of feeding and being fed would become much more than the visceral study, but a lesson of how God’s love for us transcends anything we can comprehend. One would speak of a miracle so profound, so evident that it would be told for centuries to come. Another would speak of merely a simple day in the life of a peasant dairy farmer. Each would tell of a similar moment when compared in the essence of life being provided by God so that the eyes of a child could capture that moment and realize its significance. Their memories would save that event to share with those who would never know that moment in time personally. Still, through their eyes, the retelling could enrich the hearer’s belief, and they too would be fed like that multitude on the hillside so long ago.

And the last refrain of the song concludes, “So, I’m just going over Jordan, I’m just going over home. I’m just going over Jordan, I’m just going over home.”

As time passes, the children age and become old men. The image in the mirror is not the one in their heart. With backs bent from a lifetime of toil, they look forward to that day to join those gone on before. But before they go, they too will tell their own grandchildren their stories. Their testimonies will become part of another’s life. They will impart upon those who remain the knowledge of the precious gift of Grace to which they have been given. And the story will continue until the day Jesus returns.

In this we can say without a doubt, “Thanks be to God.”

2 Comments

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | March 15, 2021 · 7:32 am

Open the Doors and See All the People


by Timothy W. Tron
Feb. 7th, 2021

“Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” – Hebrews 10:25


Darkness was all around. The car’s headlights could barely make out the tracks in the snow-covered roadway before me. I was heading home after having assisted in officiating a memorial service for a young lady. Another soul having passed too soon from this place. Her life had ended in tragedy, making it a difficult service to lead. Yet, even before the chill of the day’s air had left my coat from the graveside, the message of another friend’s passing reached my phone. Unlike the previous, his new home was certain. In this thought, my mind rejoiced in knowing that another brother had gone to be in that place that cannot be described in earthly terms.


As my drive home neared the mountains, the snowfall increased until, at one point, my car literally slid out of control for at least fifty yards or more. Thankfully, the tires never left the surface of the roadway. Unspoken prayer was answered once more. Afterward, my attention became ever more focused on driving carefully and slowly.

Oddly enough, without trying, a Sunday School rhyme of my youth began to play in my mind. As the lyric was spoken, we would act out the words with our hands. We would interlock our fingers together, palms facing upward, we would then turn them inward until our pointer-fingers touched and the heels of our thumbs pressed together. The rhyme went something like this, “Here is the church, look at the steeple, open the doors and see all the people.” Our little pointer-fingers would wiggle at the sound of the steeple, the thumbs would part when the doors were reached, and then the wrists would turn so that the interlaced fingers were once more pointing upward. That was the moment when you made your fingers wiggle around as if the congregation was visiting, sharing, and rejoicing together as one. It often made me chuckle to see my fingers wiggling and thinking of the congregation doing the same.


Looking back, my thoughts on that dark, judicious drive home were not of the mourning of my friend’s passing. They weren’t memories of the fact that we would miss his jovial, sometimes prankful demeanor. Nor were they the fact that this would be another COVID death in the records of the state’s annals of those that had succumbed to the pandemic. No, what was really troubling my soul was that my friend attended a church that had shuttered their doors because of COVID. There are all always seems to be a never-ending, creative, and thoughtful precipitous stream of reasons given when asked why a church would stop holding in-person services, but the most widely accepted excuse cited is, “Because we care about our elders and those have predisposed illnesses that make them susceptible, we are closing our doors to protect them.” Sadly, my friend’s church is not alone in this decision. Yet, neither of these practices adopted by “Caring” churches protected my friend. He had a stroke. He was 86. It happens. When he was finally recovering, he was taken to a rehab facility where it was certain that he had contracted the illness. He had lived a full life and had often told me he was ready to go on home. Well, my friend had made it, but then it was no fault or had not been prevented by the very church to which he had belonged. Before my friend left us, he had shared with me how he wished they would open back up because he missed those brothers and sisters who were like family to him. Sadly, my friend was never afforded that opportunity here on earth. In essence, his well-meaning church had somehow failed him. First Peter warns us of this, “The elders which are among you I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.” In other words, God entrusted his people’s care to those who would become the leaders of the church. It is their duty to feed the flock until the day the Lord returns. As a farmer, I can tell you that you can’t ignore your animals, or they will die of starvation. Jesus told the Pharisees, “I am the bread of life. He that believeth in my shall never hunger, he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”


Hebrews 10:25 says it clearly, “Not forsaking the assembly of ourselves together, as the manner of some, but exhorting one another; and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.”


In some cases, the church puts the blame on the state or local government authorities. In some instances, they are literally being forced to close by the threat of litigation. But in most cases, it was merely the threat of what “might” happen that shuttered many a sanctuary’s entrances. While many shut their doors saying that it is Biblical to follow the rules, the Apostle Peter would have to disagree, “But Peter and John answered and said unto them, Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye.” – Acts 4:19 “Then Peter and the other apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men.” – Acts 5:29 In other words, man must live by God’s direction and not that of any man, regardless if it breaks the law or decree that is insidious in nature toward Christians.


As the children’s rhyme says, “open the doors and see all the people,” we are meant to be together, gathering in one place. The Greek word for Gathering is episunago, which means to be in one place physically. It doesn’t read episunagoge, which is the other meaning of Gathering, which so many like to say that this verse actually means. The latter form means to be together in spirit, 2 Thess. 2:1, “Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming o our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him,” One could say that a Zoom meeting, or the prerecorded online sermons we see so many conceding too, have become the way forward for so many congregations. Sadly, some say that because of the virus’s ability to mutate, that this will never end. Does this mean that those churches that have closed their doors will remain closed forever? Does this mean that so many of those who have left the church out of fear will never return? And then the question that one must ask at a memorial service of someone that died due to a tragic event, “What is the greatest tragedy?” Yes, sadly, the greater tragedy, the effect of those well-meaning decisions by so many boards of elders, those deacon’s members who had thought it best for the greater whole, to close their doors, were causing a greater tragedy to occur than the one they had conceived. You see, my friend, the greatest tragedy is not dying in a natural disaster, it is not dying in a horrific accident, nor dying of COVID – the greatest tragedy is dying without knowing Jesus Christ as your Savior.


Disease, persecution, or any other reason that beguiles humanity is, nor has ever been a reason to stop providing a service whereby the Word of God can be preached. The Bible states this clearly in many ways and many passages.


“Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. But evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived” – 2 Timothy 3:12-13


“Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you; if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also.” – John 15:20


As I was recently afforded the opportunity to attend another tour at the Trail of Faith, it was that dark, overcast evening, again with the threat of possible snow showers on the horizon, that I became intensely convicted of a thought that would not go away. It came to me while we were standing in the replica of the Barbi College. The original structure is in Pra Del Tor, located in the Waldensian valleys of the Cottien Alps, nestled in the northwest corner of Italy. The original structure is estimated to be well over 1,000 years old. There, the elders (known as Uncle – Barbi) would teach the younger students. They would commit the entire New Testament to memory while learning Hebrew, Latin, Greek. They would also learn how to heal, using ancient methods of homeopathic remedies and cures passed down from one generation to the next. Their education was not complete until they had memorized the entire New Testament. When it was sure that the student was ready, and most importantly, had received the Holy Ghost, they were then paired with an elder and would go out across Europe evangelizing the Word of God. It was against the law to own a Bible or even to have scripture in your procession. The penalty for being caught with either was death, following an arduous, painful torture. The life expectancy of those early evangelists was 2-3 years.


It was there, standing in that dimly lit room of the Barbi College, gathered around a large single granite slate tabletop, that the feeling hit me. “We must open our church’s doors and impart into those in attendance the dire warning that came out of the ancient Waldensian history – God’s word can only survive in the hearts of men.” The only safe place for God’s word is not on a piece of paper, not on your Google Drive, nor stashed away in the cupboard of your kitchen – it is in your heart. Both the pastor leading the group and myself admitted to the group that although we had not spoken of it to one another, nor mentioned it at any other time, we both suddenly felt this conviction of purpose. We must impress upon our parishioners the impetus, the impending need to commit as much scripture to the heart, for the day is coming that it may all be taken away. But this is was not the only conviction that came through that still small voice. The other was that we are doing our congregations a great disservice by shuttering those church doors. It is the very nature of what we were meant to be in a church, what every church’s goal for existing – saving lost souls. “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when ye are gathered together, and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.” – 1 Corinthians 5:45


There are factual reports of an increase in deaths resulting from society’s isolation due to COVID. It is these people, those that have been kept away from the very place they needed to be, that we are losing. Satan seeks to destroy and devour whom he will. It is with great joy that he sees those church doors closed. It is with great pleasure that he hears of another person dying, not having known Christ. It is with great satisfaction that Satan knows that those in most need cannot reach their sanctuary of hope because either their local government or, worse, their church leaders have eliminated their only path to salvation. Yes, the greatest tragedy is not the one that makes the nightly news, for it is one that is being fought every day, from one end of this planet to the next – saving the lost before it’s too late.


Friends, let this passage be a warning. May you feel the quickening of the Holy Spirit. As we draw nearer to the end times, there should be a quickening in your own heart, one that makes you wake up gasping for breath in the dark of the night, for fear that you have not done enough for those in your life that need God’s word.


“Say ye not that in four months, then cometh the harvest? But I say to you, lift your eyes unto the fields for they are white with harvest.“


Here is the church, there is the steeple, open the doors and see all God’s people.


Thanks be to God.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | February 22, 2021 · 11:01 pm

They Were Fishermen

Early one morning, as my car’s headlights weaved around one mountain curve after another, a song on the radio caught my attention. The pleasing melody, like the pre-dawn somberness, melded together, finding its way into my soul. As I listened, the words began to speak to me.

They were fishermen, ordinary simple men.
A lot like you, a lot like me.
They were fishermen; Jesus chose to follow him
Go cast your nets out on the sea.
Go cast your nets out on the sea.

Men of few possessions, not men of wealth or fame.
Had no education, no titles by their name.
Yet it was they who answered and left to go with him
When Jesus said, I call you to be fishers of men.

Arriving early on campus, there is a calming tranquility that permeates the early morning darkness. Students sparsely ramble about, some seeking food from the dining hall, others are trying to make it back to their dorms after pulling an all-nighter before that 8:00 AM class. The only sounds are from the facility’s crews that prepare each day like the day before – utility and garbage trucks making their rounds. To be here before the sun rises adds another sense of peace to a place that becomes a pulsating, vibrant community by mid-afternoon on warm sunny days. In this time of respite, there is room to breathe, air to think. Here, the ponderings of living begin to percolate into the consciousness, and the Lord begins to speak.

Once more, in this life, I find myself a college student (albeit part-time). There is a purpose for why I’m here. God’s plans are never our own. The thought of how and why seldom seem to leave the cusp of my thoughts. In so doing, I make it a point to remind myself of the “why.” At my age, one might be looking forward to retirement. But for some reason, God has made me different. I look at the short time I have remaining on this earth and feel the urgency to strive ever more to fulfill His purpose in the path He has set before me.

Appalachian State University, 2021

As a college student striving to fulfill one’s purpose, every day is an unending stream of information, tests, and trials through which one must struggle. We all should strive every day to make the most of whatever we do as if we are serving God and not those who write our paycheck or grading our tests. “And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.” So it is with this in mind that I seek not to complain, not to panic when I feel inadequately prepared for an upcoming quiz, nor to worry about grades. No, my goal is to learn as much as possible with an eye to returning to the classroom, to someday teach once again – for that purpose, to be there for these students is what drives me onward. Those short three years when I served at the High School were a never-ending stream of caring, loving, and nurturing the students who had been placed into my care. Some of them still keep in touch, which warms my heart with each distant hello.

A career of working in the computer/network-based industry had provided me the basis for obtaining my current career position. The landing of that position was as much a testimony as to all the others before it – a story for another time. But before being the System Administrator here at App’s Computer Science department, there were many years in which my career interfaced with technologies and applications that are usually the end-point for someone attending college. My journey has somewhat physically been the reverse. Over time, all of those various computer architectures, operating systems, and protocol languages created in me a wealth of information – knowingly or not.

However, unlike those beginning disciples to whom Jesus called, my slate is not empty. Similarly, the students around me don’t have to wade through years of industry knowledge and similar-sounding acronyms, which now I’m being taught stand for something new. As those fishermen left their nets behind, they had an open mind and weren’t clouded by the teachings and intense studies, as were their counterparts who persecuted Jesus, the Pharisees. No, these were simple men. They were ordinary men who worked day-to-day to feed their families and provide for their community. They had no preconceived interpretations as did their counterparts but were open to the words which Jesus spoke.

In the Air Force Basic Training, we were taught to shoot an M16, the rifle of choice in the early ’80s. As the Training Instructor (TI) was going over the presentation, he clearly stated, “Raise your hand if you have ever hunted or learned to shoot a weapon at home.” Of course, over half the class raised their hands. He then continued, “Those of you who raised your hands will most likely not make Marksman.” Now, the word “Marksman” was a badge of honor to a young man. It meant that, even though you were merely an Air Force serviceman, you would have something to say to the world, “Hey, look at me, I’m a good shot with an M16.” Ribbons, which were the badges of honor to the entry-level airman, were much-coveted, so the more you could earn, the prouder your chest became.

The Sergeant went on to explain why he made such a deflating comment. “You see, when you learn to shoot at home, you develop your own style, your own habits begin to form. When we get out there on that shooting range, those old habits will be hard to break. Although we’ll show you the right way, those preconceived practices will hinder your ability to follow through with the new instruction, and as such, you will fail.” As much as I tried to listen and obey, I too fell short and missed Marksman by a few points. It was the same concept with those disciples whom Jesus had chosen. They were not encumbered with the wealth of knowledge that prevented the Pharisees from seeing who he was. Even if the Pharisees wanted to believe, they could not clear their minds enough to accept the mind-altering concepts Jesus delivered.

Take Nicodemus, for one. He was an esteemed leader of the Jews and one of the Sanhedrin, one of the highest orders of the Jewish Rabbinical Judges. He sought out Jesus at least one recorded evening after dark. Some speculate this was to protect himself from being caught with Christ so as not to tarnish his reputation. Others believe that it was because that most scholars of that time did most of their intense study after dark when the surrounding communities would become quieter and the air was cooler. Here, under the cover of night, the ruler of the Jews met with Jesus and struggled to understand how he, an old man, could be born again. “How can these things be,” Nicodemus asked Christ. Jesus responded with, “Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness. If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things?” Nicodemus never became a disciple, but we know that he never gave up following the life of Jesus. He was even credited with contributing to the burial of Christ about a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes, demonstrating a verifiable act of love toward the Savior.

If you are blessed enough to reach advancing years in age, you can be afforded the opportunity to look back and marvel at the journey. In this reminiscent vein, you can see how God has often used not only yourself but also those around you. Myself, being a child from an impoverished farming family, there were never any dreams that could have manifested themselves into the life I now lead.

How many of you would have ever envisioned yourself being where you are now in life?

My family never lacked for anything, but we were not rich by Wall Street’s standards. Our bountiful living came from God’s providence, his creation, and the devotion that endured for generations. From that bedrock faith of my youth to the uncharted waters my footsteps find themselves upon today, there has and will always be that guiding light. As He has spoken to many so many times before, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.”

We are all made different. Our paths to life eternal are never the same. But we can take comfort in knowing that we don’t have to have credentials behind our name. We don’t have to have an extensive portfolio nor earthly wealth and fame to have a relationship with the Lord. All it takes is that we step down from our pedestals and open our minds so that we can receive the truth and the way to life eternal. In other words, we must wipe our slates clean and humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord. It is written in scripture, “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

Jesus wasn’t looking for supermen when he found his disciples; he was only looking for one thing – simple men who would become fishers of men.

Yes, Jesus chose fishermen; they were a lot like you and a lot like me.

Thanks be to God.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | December 31, 2020 · 7:36 pm

Add More Life

by Timothy W. Tron, Dec. 2020

“I can’t add more days to my life, so I’ll add more life to my day.”

– “Life to My Days”, Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver.

Sitting here this morning and thinking about the year’s end and time, a thought crossed my mind. If we knew the day we would die, how much more would we strive to live each day leading up to that fateful moment? Would we plan a going-away party? Would we spend all that we own so that there would be nothing left, like someone stranded in the desert, draining the last drop of water from their canteen? It certainly would put a Life Insurance salesperson out of a job. One might guess where this thread is going, but for a minute, let me look at another aspect of this thought that has permeated through the din.

Be the Light – Lux Lucet in Tenebris

Taking this concept a step further, what if there were restrictions set by the government as to when that date would be when your time here on earth would end? As we face what seems to be a paralysis of life through the relentless fear of Covid, a term known as “Ageism” begins to creep into my thinking. According to Miriam-Websters, Ageism is defined as “prejudice or discrimination against a particular age-group and especially the elderly.”

Why, you ask, would you think of that?

Looking forward, one can see where authorities have already started dictating who is most essential or groups that are high risk and that these are the ones that should receive the first doses of the Covid vaccine. While on the surface, this seems purely logical, you might want to ask, “Who gets to decide, and is it the same everywhere?” Take this idea a few steps farther, and you might begin to see the reason for my concern. Will we someday be asked to voluntarily end our lives for the greater good, or will we be dismissed from receiving a life-saving vaccine for the sake of allowing the more essential to live? If we are asked to volunteer, will it be to save the greater good, or will it merely be to escape? One must consider these ethical questions when our leaders begin to make decisions that are out of our control.

Ageism is not a new ideology. Several themes in literature and movies to which predetermined ages were set for humans come to mind. Like the movie Logan’s Run or the short story, Law of Life, by Jack London, societal restrictions imposed term limits, so to speak, on how old humans were allowed to live. The principle is that the elderly would eventually become a burden to society. Finding a way to eliminate them, either through voluntary choice or government-imposed regulations, became the accepted fate in these literary pieces. In Logan’s Run, some awakened to this horrific belief and rebelled. In the latter work by Jack London, the reader is left to decide if the choice was detrimental or a matter of preservation of the tribe – thus preserving the greater good.

Going back to one of the two extremes, either volunteerism or authoritarian imposition, the movie Soylent Green brought to light the former. When Sol Roth (Edward G. Robinson in his final film role) had seen enough, he went to the assisted-suicide facility known as “Home”. His friend, and star of the movie, Thorn, played by Charlton Heston, watched in the control room as his friend experienced his requested ending. As written in the article from the web page, “Greatest Movie Death Scenes, the author describes how the movie portrayed Sol’s end. “He had chosen a poignant, painless and suicidal death in the euthanasia clinic’s chamber. He was put to rest (to “go home”) with orange-hued lighting, classical music playing (Tchaikovsky’s “Pathetique” Symphony No. 6, Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony No. 6, and segments of Grieg’s “Peer Gynt Suite”) and projected video (of a peaceful and “beautiful” green Earth ages ago when animal and plant life thrived and there was no pollution).”[1]

You see, my friend, when we begin to go down the path of worldly existence, we face an end where we feel we are either forced to choose or accept a fate administered by others. But there is another option that I began with before this chasing of the rabbit down his proverbial hole. We have a choice to live this existence without fear of being terminated before our natural being is finished. We have the option to choose a life where the end is up to us – albeit not one of a sad mortality, but rather, a new beginning.

As Jesus told his disciples, “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”[2] Again and again, Christ told all that would listen, “that whosoever believeth in my shall have eternal life.” When we believe and follow Jesus, we can’t help but realize our true calling and the reason for our very existence on this earth. We are not simply another body taking up space, consuming resources that others might need more than us. We are here to be a light for those around us. The greater we share that light with others, the more intensely we serve. When we finally understand this purpose for which we have been made, we finally begin to see how each day is precious. As if we were opening that surprise gift we had always wanted, we should awaken each day as if it were our last.

While we say goodbye to another year, somewhere, someone has just given up hope in tomorrow. Somewhere another has decided they cannot go on living in a world in which there are no freedoms, further lock-downs, and the threat of increased government crackdowns for the sake of the greater good. Some are saying 2020 was the worst year of their lives, but some have never had a good year – ever. It is these people, those that are genuinely lost, those without hope, those that you don’t even realize have given up; these are the ones that you must strive to think of the words to the son, “I can’t add more days to my life, but I can add more life to my day.”

May your New Year’s resolution be to be the light for those around you and for those whom you have never met, nor may never meet. Sing from the mountain tops, shout it from the deepest valleys, Jesus Christ is the true salvation – Believe in Him and find that your eternal life begins when this life ends.

Looking forward, one can see where authorities have already started dictating who is most essential or groups that are high risk and that these are the ones that should receive the first doses of the Covid vaccine. While on the surface, this seems purely logical, you might want to ask, “Who gets to decide, and is it the same everywhere?” Take this idea a few steps farther, and you might begin to see the reason for my concern. Will we someday be asked to voluntarily end our lives for the greater good, or will we be dismissed from receiving a life-saving vaccine for the sake of allowing the more essential to live? If we are asked to volunteer, will it be to save the greater good, or will it merely be to escape? One must consider these ethical questions when our leaders begin to make decisions that are out of our control.

Ageism is not a new ideology. Several themes in literature and movies to which predetermined ages were set for humans come to mind. Like the movie Logan’s Run or the short story, Law of Life, by Jack London, societal restrictions imposed term limits, so to speak, on how old humans were allowed to live. The principle is that the elderly would eventually become a burden to society. Finding a way to eliminate them, either through voluntary choice or government-imposed regulations, became the accepted fate in these literary pieces. In Logan’s Run, some awakened to this horrific belief and rebelled. In the latter work by Jack London, the reader is left to decide if the choice was detrimental or a matter of preservation of the tribe – thus preserving the greater good.

Going back to one of the two extremes, either volunteerism or authoritarian imposition, the movie Soylent Green brought to light the former. When Sol Roth (Edward G. Robinson in his final film role) had seen enough of the chaos in the world he lived.  Deciding to end it all, he went to the assisted-suicide facility known as “Home”. His friend, and star of the movie, Thorn, played by Charlton Heston, watched in the control room as his friend experienced his requested ending. As written in the article from the web page, “Greatest Movie Death Scenes, the author describes how the movie portrayed Sol’s end. “He had chosen a poignant, painless and suicidal death in the euthanasia clinic’s chamber. He was put to rest (to “go home”) with orange-hued lighting, classical music playing (Tchaikovsky’s “Pathetique” Symphony No. 6, Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony No. 6, and segments of Grieg’s “Peer Gynt Suite”) and projected video (of a peaceful and “beautiful” green Earth ages ago when animal and plant life thrived and there was no pollution).”[1]

[1] Greatest Movie Death Scenes, Soylent Green (1973), https://www.filmsite.org/bestdeaths20.html

You see, my friend, when we begin to go down the path of worldly existence, we face an end where we feel we are either forced to choose or accept a fate administered by others. Sadly, the movie Soylent Green focused on the natural world and disregarded the spiritual. In the 70’s when the movie first aired, I had yet to enter the walk of faith on which I trod today. The scene of Sol slowing dying as he watched the old world, the one he once knew in his younger years, pass away. To my teenage mind, it was heart-wrenching. Had the movie looked at the end from a Christian lens, Sol never would have been at the “Home” to start with. But if he had been coerced, forced to end his life, the beauty that played before him would have only been a prelude to what was to come.

Yes, there is another option that I began with before this chasing of the rabbit down his proverbial hole. We have a choice to live this existence without fear of being terminated before our natural being is finished. We have the option to choose a life where the end is up to us – albeit not one of a sad mortality, but rather, a new beginning.

As Jesus told his disciples, “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”[2] Again and again, Christ told all that would listen, “that whosoever believeth in my shall have eternal life.” When we believe and follow Jesus, we can’t help but realize our true calling and the reason for our very existence on this earth. We are not simply another body taking up space, consuming resources that others might need more than us. We are here to be a light for those around us. The greater we share that light with others, the more intensely we serve. When we finally understand this purpose for which we have been made, we finally begin to see how each day is precious. As if we were opening that surprise gift we had always wanted, we should awaken each day as if it were our last.

[2] John 10:10 KJV

While we say goodbye to another year, somewhere, someone has just given up hope in tomorrow. Somewhere another has decided they cannot go on living in a world in which there are no freedoms, further lock-downs, and the threat of increased government crackdowns for the sake of the greater good. Some are saying 2020 was the worst year of their lives, but some have never had a good year – ever. It is these people, those that are genuinely lost, those without hope, those that you don’t even realize have given up; these are the ones that you must strive to think of the words to the son, “I can’t add more days to my life, but I can add more life to my day.”

May your New Year’s resolution be to be the light for those around you and for those whom you have never met, nor may never meet. Sing from the mountain tops, shout it from the deepest valleys, Jesus Christ is the true salvation – Believe in Him and find that your eternal life begins when this life ends.

Thanks be to God.

May your New Year’s resolution be to be the light for those around you and for those whom you have never met, nor may never meet. Sing from the mountain tops, shout it from the deepest valleys, Jesus Christ is the true salvation – Believe in Him and find that your eternal life begins when this life ends.

Thanks be to God.

[1] Greatest Movie Death Scenes, Soylent Green (1973), https://www.filmsite.org/bestdeaths20.html

[2] John 10:10 KJV

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

by | December 30, 2020 · 5:32 am

Journal Update

(December 30th, 2020)

The time passes one plank after another. The labor of love seems to never end, but then in the latter’s sense, it is not labor, for the work toward the Lord is a passion to which the heart gives in wholly; unabated. One must pause and look upon what has been done to fulfill the blessing within.

Shadows were glancing through the barren limbs of the forest, chasing the sun that barely rises above the horizon. The warmth of the fire reminded us that to remove the chills upon one’s back, you must subsequently afford that portion toward the flame. As one finds a void in their spirit, they too must find from whence its vacancy can be refilled, warmed anew as by the hearth. From the depths of God’s word, those empty voids can be rejuvenated – filling the soul so that the spirit may become refreshed.

This morning, the taste of manna from heaven ever more sweeten the taste upon my soul as my eyes read through familiar texts. Like an old friend, they reach out to me and speak to me in a calming voice. Their refrain falls upon my ears like the warmth of that welcoming woodstove or the taste of that slice of fresh bread from the oven. Each, although soothing the shortcomings of the fleshly needs of this world, bemoan the spirit within. Finding God in these moments, sensing his presence through those temporal moments, can relay us into the eternal glimpses that await in our next life, should we choose in this life wisely.

Being alone, the majority of the time while working on the Spiritual Retreat has become the norm. Yesterday, however, was different. My son joined me, and we worked together – something that was not too common. Like my own solitude, our duo worked without interruption from the outside. As if we were on our own island, we toiled together regardless of what the world was mesmerizing over at the moment. There in our little neck of the Blueridge mountains, we had no Covid, there were no threats of lockdown, there was no endless noise of fear-mongering from the media, there were just us two, working in unison as God allowed. Outdoor, the creek gurgled underneath a golden sky.

For all its worth, we were none the worse for wear. Well, mostly.

There were still drawbacks that could not be avoided.

My physical body has more than once found its limitations. Pushing through the pain is one thing, but when one’s back becomes so weary that it is difficult to stand, let alone function, something has to give. You either stop and wait to recover or find a way to struggle onward. Nearly always, the answer is the latter.

Multiple times the pain had to be subdued with ibuprofen in order to push onward – the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Although there are the earthly inhibiting factors, the beauty to which the work has revealed is a testimony unto our Savior. It is through us that his hands worketh. No task has not been managed that God has not provided – albeit in strength, knowledge, or skill. All have been a confirmation of what the LORD can do through us in spite of ourselves when we are one with him. As he asked us to drink of his blood, that he would be in us, and us in him, so it is, that when we fully commit ourselves unto his lifeblood, we too will be like the bride with the bridegroom – uniting as one. “Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.”[1]

Last night, as my battered, scarred, and beleaguered hands typed these passages, there was a certain feeling of contentment that flowed. While sleep beckoned, these were just a few of the thoughts from which must be scribed so that if one looks back from the future, they will see only a small portion of what a day in the life of this person might have revealed.

So, with heavy eyes, I read over the Gospel of John, visiting my old friend one last time before I say my prayers and finally lay down to rest.

Before sleep overcame me, the last thoughts were, “If I die before I wake, may the Lord my soul to take.”

Thanks be to God.

[1] John 6:53-54 KJV

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

by | December 15, 2020 · 9:30 pm

This Little Light of Mine

by Timothy W. Tron, Dec. 2020

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” – Matthew 5:16

Tonight, as I pray for all those people in my life, both within reach, and those distant, it is as if there is a never-ending list. Yet, as countless as the stars are in the sky, the Lord knows each of them by name. For each soul that finds its way onto my finite list, there are so many more that our Savior knows, and his grace emanates forth like one star shining onto the next until his list to us appears infinite.  And in this manner, we are found like the newborn foal in the dewy morning grass, helpless, ambling into an unknown future. Our ship’s sails may be full, but the rudder, the part with which we steer, seems inadequate for the vessel for which we have been endowed. The greater the berth, the more we are expected to manage – yet, even in the best of times, we can be overwhelmed with the blessings upon which we have been bestowed. The cargo for which we carry is that of being someone to whom others can turn, the light which shineth forth as does the natural world, also attracts that of the spiritual. Those with darkened hearts, those with diminished souls cling to us like a life support. We become the flame to the moth, so to speak. We know deep inside this shell of humanity that we are not worthy, and if we are even more abound in our faith, we know that it is He that worketh through us whom they seek.

Night Sky – by Timothy W. Tron, 2020

On a dark night, over 2,000 years ago, the stars above played an integral part of our Messiah’s birth. As part of our Men’s Connection Bible study, this morning we watched the very well written and presented movie, “The Star of Bethlehem.”[1] As we marveled at the details with which the show’s presenter depicted his case, in the back of my mind, there was a little voice wondering about all the other brilliance and imagery to which he did not mention. While science and mathematics can depict with uncanny accuracy the actual account of how the star of Bethlehem came to be, there is another side of the story where man’s intuition can never reach – that of the un-natural, the spiritual, and the Godly. For as Jesus told the Pharisees, “How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God only.”[2] There in that night sky, not only was the star of Bethlehem showing the way, but there was another phenomenon taking place. As the shepherds stood with their flocks, there was, as they put it, a multitude of angels that illuminated the sky beyond their ability to describe in human terms. “And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.”[3] As those men in the field would later testify to Luke, not alone, but several eyewitnesses would attest, a luminescence far beyond that of what said star was already providing shone about them. It was so brilliant that it literally wrought their hearts with fear and trembling. We can see this again throughout scripture when man finds himself in the presence of an Almighty being, be it an Angel of the Lord or God himself.  But Luke goes on to reveal how much more these shepherds were afforded that precious night. As if heaven had taken pause and the entirety of heaven ascended to earth to witness the birth of God in the flesh, the multitude of angels filled the sky. “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men. And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven,”[4] As those lowly shepherds stook quaking in amidst their flocks, in awe of the presence of something no one before, nor anyone since had ever witnessed, they were given the message of “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”

If you lived the rest of your life after such an event, that moment, that place in time and those words would surely never leave you. Had those ancient Jews been more mindful of the scriptures and voices of the prophets, they too would have been standing alongside those men in the fields. But alas, as God would intend it to be, their hearts would be hardened, and the image of the Almighty in the form of a helpless child, not the conquering King they had imagined would be the order for all time.

While we often find comfort in science and numerical evidence when it can back up those words that are encased within the covers of the book with the inscription, “Bible,” we must be reminded that this is only a minutia of detail to which we are afforded. The natural order and what man can fully understand are, but an infinitesimal part of all that God can do and provide. When we seek out those stories of old and find the infinite being allowing himself to become finite, the flesh, we for a moment can comprehend what he speaks. But as those Jews of old discovered, there was much more to that earthly mission than what humankind had anticipated.

There amongst those beautiful deep space nebulae from which the Hubble Space Telescope can provide to our vast array of scientific academia, we can find tiny lights that appear to be stars. They are, in fact, billions of other galaxies with billions more stars within them. There seems to be no end to what God’s creation can and will reveal. When we take the time to study the word to which we were given, the Comforter as Jesus told his disciples, we can find traces, vague footprints of angelic beings for which there is no understanding, no mathematical equation that can explain within the scope of human interpretation. It is then, when we realize the limits of our own being that someday our soul may inhabit a place we cannot begin to imagine, that we start to fathom the endless capacity of God. It is then that we understand how faith really works.

He must increase that we may decrease. And when we finally come to understand this, we will then begin to open our eyes to a new realization – we are nothing without Him.

Give thanks for all that you have, my friend, and pray for those whom you know and for those who don’t. From our little lights, we emanate out to others until we eventually become a greater light that makes all the difference in this world. So that someday, we too shall be one with the light of the world.

“For we were once darkness, but now we are light, live as children of the light.”[5]

Thanks be to God.

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6OaVLA27V0s, ITN Movies, 2007, From Producer Stephen   McEveety (The Passion of the Christ)

[2] John 5:44 KJV

[3] Luke 2:9 KJV

[4] Luke 2:13-15 KJV

[5] Eph. 5:8 KJV

Leave a Comment

Filed under Inspirational

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,