Tag Archives: Jesus

by | January 26, 2020 · 9:43 pm

Spirits in the Sky

This evening, the news of a famous retired basketball player dying in a helicopter crash has caused many in our nation to take pause. He was only 41. His life, one of a truly, gifted and amazing athlete, was followed by wealth and fame. Sadly, it is now all gone. What will remain are the memories and legacies to which he may have imparted; be they good or bad, as a two-edged sword, we may never know.

Each morning we awaken, we are afforded another precious gift; another day of life. We should never take one of them for granted, for we never know when this may be our last.

Today I was afforded the blessing of meeting a friend at a church on the mountain, one that he was looking at possibly joining in the future. As I drove along the winding road, there was much to reflect upon. Overhead, the skies were a crystalline clear as the John’s river’s icy waters. Their reflection of earth’s outer sphere, like a deep cerulean blue, gave the rising sun something with which to compete for the beauty and majesty. As my car drove up the mountain, the sunrise cast long shadows behind me, forcing darkness in pockets upon the eastward facing slopes; behind them, the veil of white lay waiting. As I made the crest of the mountaintop, the morning’s first light made the snow-covered forest come alive. Like a multitude of angels at Jesus’ birth, so too were the trees enshrouded by the luminescence of an untold number of diamond-like snowflakes.

Here and there around each bend, chimneys spewed forth slender columns of woodsmoke, each rising like tendrils into that azure blueness above. Each a signal of life within. Inside the humble cabins, the morning coffee had begun to percolate as the fire cracked and popped. Somewhere nearby, bacon sizzled in a cast-iron skillet. Some would be preparing for church while others would simply be rising to live another day of life, one with the hope of a tomorrow and the other just wishing there was one.

For every portion of living, there is a double-edged sword with which we must contend. One side of the blade, as my friend put it, is Mercy; the other side Justice. Life cannot have one without the other. Justice without mercy is a formidable and a fearsome judgment to any who have received it. Mercy without justice is like giving freedom without having any fear of retribution; there is nothing for which to be freed if there is nothing for which to fear. Yet, God hath given us a sword for which the balance between justice and mercy is perfectly balanced. In fact, on the traditional broadsword, the center of the sword is slightly raised, giving height to the intersection of the two opposing sides, taking the high road, if you will.

Through God’s love for us, we are afforded the perfect balance of Justice and Mercy. For with each gradual trial we weather, by His Grace, we grow stronger in our faith. For if we find ourselves facing the proverbial headwinds in our daily walk with Christ, we must know that we are going in the right direction. For faith without trials is a faith untested. “Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.”[1]

Just as each edge of the blade could be considered to stand for justice and mercy, so too could they stand for Thoughts and Intent of the human soul. “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”[2]

Just as the word of God is quick and powerful, so too are its intention. Like a playbook on how to live life, its instructions are clear, succinct, and powerful. Yet, to the unbeliever, the words are only that, just printing on the page. As God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”[3] He gave us Christ, with whom we were spared eternal damnation and the expected end we deserved, with that ultimate justice; his death was the punishment for our sins.

To the unbeliever, the Bible is nothing more than theory; conjecture of good intentions.

As I was speaking to one of our department’s professors this week, the difference between theory and application came to mind. While we are immersed in the pursuit of education at our institutions of higher learning, most of what we achieve is theory. It is not until we go out into the “Real” world, get jobs, and start careers that we actually apply that theory. That application becomes the tools of whatever industry we pursue, sometimes for the rest of our lives. However, God has allowed me to return to the place from whence I began so long ago. As I listened to the very well-meaning professor describe the course layout, I found my mind jumping from the theory he was describing to the applications I had used in my nearly two decades of working in the industry. From that life of experience, from the applying of theory, I once more made the jump back to the present and was able to interpret his descriptions, but far from the conventional line of thought to which he was used to instructing.

For those of you who have learned or are trying to learn to speak a foreign language, you can relate. You at first have to think of the foreign word’s meaning in your mother tongue and then speak the foreign word. Slowly, as you become more proficient, eventually, you can skip the literal translation because you just know the foreign word, has finally become one of your own, no longer foreign. So too is the word of God. Like many who are lost and haven’t come to know or accept Christ into their lives, the words in the Bible are only that; words. But Jesus told his followers that they would not be alone; that he would send a Comforter. He also said that he would never leave us nor forsake us. That Comforter, that being with whom he spoke, was to be the Holy Spirit.

Through the Holy Spirit, we are made anew, “And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again. Wherefore henceforth know we no man after the flesh: yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him no more. Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation; To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.”[4]

From whence we came, is to which we shall return. For once we have walked in the way, we are made anew, and from there, we can speak to those who have yet to find the way, the truth, and the light. From our experience in the application of the word, we have become wiser, and with this wisdom, we are then able to help those who are lost. “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and unbraideth not; and it shall be given him.”[5] From theory, as some may say, to become one with the Father through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are changed. Walking in Christ, we are no longer living in theory, but rather, in the application of what it was meant to be, where Justice and Mercy meet in that high rounded middle of the blade, to which nothing can prevail; neither spirit nor soul.

As the finger-like wafts of smoke rise into the morning sky from their hand-hewn stone chimneys below, so soar the spirits of many who have breathed their last. Don’t go another day without seeking out that friend, that neighbor, or even that family member who might be lost. Seek them with all your heart.

And remember, for, by the Grace of God, we go.

We are all but a heartbeat away from eternity.

Live each day as if it were the most precious gift. You never know when it will be your last.

Thanks be to God.

[1] 1 Peter 4:12-13 KJV

[2] Hebrews 4:12 KJV

[3] Jeremiah 29:11 KJV

[4] 2 Corinthians 5:15-20 KJV

[5] James 1:5 KJV

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by | January 5, 2020 · 9:00 pm

There is Hope in the Storm

Yesterday, as I sat and watched the thick cloud bank slowly envelope Grandfather, I was reminded of incoming tides upon ancient seas. The jetties and rocks of life, like those distant mountain peaks, were soon to be covered by the rising waters of time. Before long, he had vanished, obscured by a billowing blanket of gray, blue, and white. Grandfather Mountain was not gone, this I knew, for I had seen him. It was not necessary to hope for his existence because by seeing, we know that he is still there. Yet, we cannot foretell what the coming storms will unveil. In a manner of hours, or even days, we may see a changed mountain, one blanketed in a snowy, majestic white mantel of winter; this is the wish of many.

painting by Timothy W. Tron

With wanted anticipation, some may see the impending storm and look forward to a delay in the upcoming return to school. While others may fear what is to come knowing regardless of the road conditions, they will be expected to be at their posts or jobs. Likewise, those who walk in faith are much like those gladly seeing the possibility of winter storms; the former seeks the hope of life eternal by knowing that regardless of what the storms of life may bring, they have the hope of salvation unto our final dwelling place on high. “For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.”[1]

But just as a child, torn from their home due to circumstances which have created living conditions so dire that the state has to intervene, they seek hope to eventually return home. Yet, what they don’t fully understand is that in order for them to return home, their parents or guardians must change. The addiction or bondage to the sins of the flesh must be broken. The downward spiral of drugs, alcohol, otherworldly lusts has permeated their lives so deeply that they often have lost sight of caring for their family, if not themselves. We’ve all see the posted mug shots of convicted criminals and seen the effects of meth, just to name one, on their physical being. Inside, there remains a remnant of the human being they once were.

Somewhere within, there is a flicker of a soul.

Like those school children looking forward to the coming snowstorm,  the Apostle Paul wrote of coming storms and afflictions, “Giving no offence in any thing, that the ministry be not blamed: But in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, In stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings;”[2] His point being, that those storms of life, the daily challenges and trials, only make us stronger Christians. Meanwhile, those of the world suffer greatly because their faith is nonexistent. There is nothing to embolden. In their despair, they seek earthly means to fill the void. The Apostle Peter wrote about them saying, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world.”[3]

Alone, those lost parents cannot conquer the darkness that holds them captive. It is by prayer and the hope of their children, the faith of which they often do not know, that they can be lifted up. These thoughtless parents reckless abandon for life is conveyed by those whose tender young hearts who are willing to still have faith. In their undying hope that their parents will change, unto the day they may return to a new home, those orphaned children never give up. Similarly, we seek faith to eventually return to our heavenly home because this world is not our home. Yet, we are not left as orphans to fend for ourselves, for our heavenly father awaits.  “That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world: But now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.”[4]

Even though the parents of those orphaned children may be so lost in their sin that they don’t even realize the cause of their forced separation, nor do they know how to free themselves from the enslavement of their fleshly additions and afflictions, Christ gives us that answer. Through the power of the blood Jesus Christ shed upon the cross, we may overcome the darkness that seeks to devour our world and flood us with iniquities beyond our comprehension.

We cannot achieve this freedom alone.

In Hebrews 11:1, we are reminded that “…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Having held true to my faith in these recent months, I can tell you from personal experience, the harder the clouds of turmoil flooded my soul, the harder I fell to my knees. There were no immediate replies. There was no blinding light that threw me off my horse and into the road. There were often days of silence. Nothingness.

“But nothing worth having is ever easy,” – Theodore Roosevelt

As the scripture tells us, “But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.” From having seen prayers answered, it is then when we start to understand how one can have “evidence of things unseen.” Prayer is one of our most powerful spiritual tools. Daniel prayed five times a day. When his enemies learned of his daily practice, they used it to entrap him which landed him in the den of lions. Daniel didn’t fear but resorted to what he knew best, prayer. His hope of release from the expected doom was his answer to faithful prayer.

As we approach a future that sometimes appears, if anything but bright, we can be reminded that there is “hope.” As we awoke this morning and the clouds had departed, Grandfather was there as the sunlight began to cast its golden rays upon his face. His crown, a mantel of snowy white, now proudly unveiled for all to see.

The storm had been weathered.

There will always be the dawning of a new day. Don’t let the darkness of the light consume you. Although it may feel as the darkest hour is just before dawn, don’t let fear overwhelm you like the storm clouds smothering Grandfather. Let the light of Christ shine upon your life, and through you, such that those around you are enlightened by the Holy Spirit within your own. Choose to be the light in a dark world, like the beautiful snow-covered peaks of Grandfather this morning, their light reflecting the sunrise, like golden shields of hope.

Tomorrow is a new day.  Rise with hope in your heart and let your light shine for all to see.

Thanks be to God.

[1] Romans 8:24-25 (KJV)

[2] 2 Corinthians 6:3-5 (KJV)

[3] 1 Peter 5:8-9 (KJV)

[4] Ephesians 2:12 (KJV)

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by | December 24, 2019 · 9:00 pm

The Gift in Swaddling Clothes

This evening, Christmas Eve to be exact, the fire in the hearth hisses and crackles at me. The warmth soothes my weary bones, like the stones upon which the firelight flickers against, warming them, bringing them back to life. Late this afternoon I took a break from wiring the Retreat and took a much overdue walk. It was an early Christmas gift to myself, you might say.

The sky was a perfect Carolina blue with the sunlight filtering through the barren branches of the forest. My body felt sluggish, not something I had remembered in recent times. From the recent medical prognosis, it was apparent that I would never be as fast or as strong as I once was physically. Those sub-five-minute miles will only be a memory from now on (unless, of course, I’m driving in a car). In fact, as the saying goes, “I’ll never be as good as I once was.” It wasn’t quite the gift I had expected. As my weary legs finally carried me back to the Retreat, I was thankful just to have been able to walk along the whispering creeks and waterfalls.

The family was still gone on some last-minute Christmas Eve errands. So many spent the recent days hurrying and fretting over preparations for the perfect day when family and friends will fill their homes. I was thankful to be free of that burden and able to relax for a change. Back inside my little cabin in the woods, I stoked the fire back to a roar and sat back sipping on a hot brew As the burgeoning flames cracked and popped, my mind pondered the recent scripture that would not leave my head; from the book of Luke. It is probably the most quoted gospel this time of year.

From the point when Mary has received the direction of the Arch Angel Gabriel, to the immaculate conception, there is a story within itself. “And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”[1] Like the spark that lights the fire, the hand of God came upon Mary, and in that instant, the being of God in the form of human flesh began to develop in her fetus. The “Most High” overshadowed her. The Greek word for “overshadow” is comprised of two words, which basically describe a cloud of energy that enveloped Mary, at which point, Christ was literally conceived. To understand in our simple humanness is more than a struggle. Yet, the indescribable doesn’t stop there.

Later, when Mary and Joseph reach Bethlehem, as it was foretold, Jesus would be born in a lowly manger, a trough from which animals eat. Remember the prodigal son and how it was described that he fell so far that he literally ate out of the same troughs as the pigs which he tended. Our Lord and Savior was born in such a condition, in a feeding trough. And when Mary had wrapped him in swaddling clothes, rags if you will, he was ready to receive the many guests that would soon arrive.

Unbeknownst to Mary and Joseph, out in the neighboring fields of Bethlehem, shepherds were standing watch over their flocks at night, when another Angel came to them. Now before I jump into the scripture that you have probably heard a thousand times, allow me to precede it with something that you may have never thought of before.

As I have already alluded, this was not just a common birth. This was literally God being born for the first time ever, in the form of human flesh. It was a sentinel moment in the history of God. This was a moment in eternity in which the significance, although entirely missed by the spiritual leaders of the time, would so impact the entirety of Glory above that it would be as if all of heaven’s Angels, for a moment, would stop everything and come to earth to attend the birth of a Savior, the son of God. For the first time in all of creation, God was coming to earth, to be born of a lowly handmaiden, in a stable. Had those Pharisees and Jewish leaders understood the prophecies of which they supposedly had learned so well, they too could have joined the unimaginable moment with all of creation, but they would not. They would be lost to the moment and forever because of their unbelief. What they would miss would be the gift of a lifetime, of an eternity. God would come to earth to live and die like one of his own creation’s so that he would feel our pain, know our suffering so that when he would eventually defeat death, and his blood would flow freely down the cross, we would know that God had given us the most precious gift mankind would ever know; His Son.

Now, reread the scripture with that picture in your mind, “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 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. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 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, good will toward men. And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.”[2]

Notice how the shepherds feared the initial Angel and how it comforted them until they were somewhat at ease. It was then, once they had been calmed that the enumerable multitude of Heavenly hosts appeared before them. So great was the light that it could be seen beyond the local pastures of Bethlehem. Luke would later recall, in separate writings, how many philosophers, scientists, and spiritual leaders would recall seeing the bright light in the sky and how each of them would separately interpret the scene. Imagine the lowly shepherds, uneducated, poor, and of simple faith, and how their hearts might have stopped but for a moment in awe at the sight before them; the heavens filled with Angels on high. The angelic illumination was so bright that the mere mortal shepherds would have nearly been blinded, without and within. They literally had been moved beyond belief as can be seen by the following passage.

“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.”[3]

These men, who were in charge of other men’s flock, left their post and ran into town. The mere fact that they abandoned their livelihood to seek out the babe in swaddling clothes would tell you of their sheer panic. Adrenaline rushing through their veins, they sought the length of the city for the child.  They didn’t stop until they found him. When they finally reached the stable, covered in sweat, breathing heavily, they hesitantly entered, knowing that this was no normal child for which they were to admire. There before them, glowing underneath the watchful eye of his mother, was the babe of whom the Angel had spoken. Mary had instinctively picked up her baby to protect him when this mass of strangers began to enter the stables. But to her disbelief, they now fell at her feet and began to worship her child. They would eventually share with her and Joseph the reason for the worship and awe of the infant child. From there, the shepherds would not stop. They would leave the stable and go far and wide sharing their story. Eventually, they would return and share with her the wonderful reactions and praises for which the Christ child had heralded. Mary’s head had to be spinning at all that had transpired in just a matter of months. She had gone from a simple peasant to the mother of the Son of God. She had to be dreaming, she might have told herself more than once. And as you can imagine, “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”[4]


Luke’s interview with Mary and her recanting this story, as it was likely shared with her many times by those exact shepherds, so impacted Luke, a physician, that he kept it just as it was told to him. In fact, all of the story, from the immaculate conception to the birth is recounted through the eyes of this glorious and wonderful physician, as he was known in his time. That being said, you can now perhaps better understand the significance of the timeline for which these events took place. Perhaps, even more, that you may think about this precious gift we all have been given, even now, as the realm for which God gave his only begotten Son so that any who should believe shall be saved.

Tomorrow, if not already, you will hopefully have family and friends over to open gifts and to celebrate Christmas. When the wrapping paper is finally collected, and everyone has had time to contemplate their gifts, both given and received, some may take time to reflect upon the reason behind the most significant holiday on our calendar, at least to most people. If allowed, ask them to listen for a moment, and share with them something special. Share with them the greatest story ever told.

In life, we reach a point when we only reduce our biological stability, perhaps maintaining for a while, but eventually, we will slow a few more steps, rise a bit slower, and recall even less. Yet, through it all, we should be thankful in our daily walk, no matter the struggles, and remember that we have been given the most precious gift known to man. Nearly 2000 years ago, a present was wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger, not under a tree. Those who were there to receive did not need to unwrap their gift to know its importance.

Tomorrow, pause for a moment and give thanks to God above for the greatest gift of all.

Thanks be to God.

[1] Luke 1:35

[2] Luke 2:8-15

[3] Luke 2:16-18

[4] Luke 2:19

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by | November 30, 2019 · 9:57 pm

Are You Blessed?

 “Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed”-John 20:29

We stood in a circle. Our right hands made into fists as our arms were extended into the middle of the circle, like the hub of a human wheel, one placed upon the other as each of us bowed our heads in prayer. The boys like to call the configuration the “popcorn prayer,” a term they coined on their own. With the first of the young men that began, the next would continue the prayer until it came around the circle to the last person.

Crossnore Children’s Home

In the past, we would have had a morning devotional before going to breakfast, followed by a closing prayer. But this day was different, it was late Sunday afternoon. Unlike the times before, today they asked that we all pray together before we said our final goodbyes. In unison, they asked that I close us out by saying the last prayer.

It was one of the most poignant moments of my life, humbling to the core; it was their last request.

I had come to say goodbye, a goodwill gesture that was sincerely from the heart. It had been a tumultuous month, one that had left me more than tired. Several weeks earlier, when I had shared with my supervisor that God was leading my life’s journey away from Crossnore, I also asked that if they needed any extra help, I told him that I would be willing to fill in if needed. He thanked me for that offer.

At Crossnore, there is always a need.

And so, after many sleep-deprived and beleaguered days, my footsteps carried me one last time from one end of the Crossnore campus to the other. Those young men had left an undeniable mark upon my heart. For many of the children at Crossnore, their pasts are much like our own, better left behind. Many are at the home because of no fault of their own, and with that, you immediately seek to find the source of the mindset that acts out in ways that are not normal; because if anything, the trauma through which they have survived are anything but normal. It was because of this and much more that I couldn’t leave without at least letting them know that I would miss them.

Along my path that somber Sunday afternoon, the majestic oaks that had at one time provided comforting shade during the hotter months, had now given way to become barren, twisted towering bones, reaching to the azure blue sky above. They too, showed empathy for my departure, like elders who had seen so many come and go, telling me in their own way that they would forever be with me. The chilly winds blew leaves across my path as I made it to the all teen boy’s cottage. Many would prefer another assignment than to have to deal with young men at their age.

My own experience was quite different.

From the outset, once they realized I wasn’t going to be a push-over, we began to connect. One might wonder if it had been the many years of working with the Scouts that allowed me to understand them? Perhaps you might ask, was it because of the time spent working with the Junior Appalachian Musician program? Or, maybe, you might conjecture, it was teaching High School math to teens their age that helped me cope? Whatever the reason one might attribute my connection to those boys, I believe it was the hand of the Lord who had put me there for that season, as short as it may have been. The reason I felt it was God, was because it wasn’t until I asked to share the devotional with them that I could see something new; a change in their demeanor toward my presence. It was when one of the young men-(the one that had been there the longest, over 6 years to be exact)- opened up to me, that their reactions began to make me take notice. They said that because of his years of tenure at the home, he had become so hardened that he would purposely keep you at bay, knowing that before long, you too would fall by the wayside.

Who could blame him?

He had seen so many come and go. And up to that point, he could have just as well said the same thing about me. But when he would purposely make it a point to greet me or go out of his way to tell me to have a nice day, it became apparent that God had moved him, through me, in spite of who I was. All of these thoughts swirled around in my head like the fallen leaves upon the ground that cold, blustery afternoon.

There had been so much to contemplate. For if the walk had been days, there would have been enough recent memories and experiences to occupy my thoughts the full breadth of the journey.

Recently, one of my new colleagues at the college asked, “How are you today?”

I replied, as I so often do these days, “I am blessed, I hope you are?”

He then later asked what I had meant by the word “Blessed.”

The question stopped me in my tracks.

My mind flashed back to the beginning of the summer and the terrible drought, and trials that my life had encountered. Through the loss of a job, loss of income, loss of medical coverage, to the near-fatal illness, to the days of unanswered prayers. The doubts and troubles piled up like logs against the bridge when the river rises. One by one, their pressure building until they either burst through or until they are swept over the bridge by higher waters. My life had become that bridge, inundated by the flooding trials that seemed to come, one after the other, each one building upon the other. At one point, the bad news had become so common that it became laughable. “Just how much more could one take and still survive,” I began to ask? My life began to feel a little like Job in the struggles, and a lot like Joseph at the bottom of the dry well; there was nowhere to go but up.

Then, like once before in my life when it seemed as if all hope was lost, God answered. I don’t recall the exact day or time, but there was a sense that only a few may know or understand. Like a warm wave cascading over your soul, the feeling of things that are about to change washes over you, and it is then that you know deep in your heart that it is going to be okay. It’s moments like that when Hebrews 11:1 makes perfect sense, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

My sweet co-teacher, Mrs. Rush, said it best last year when she was trying to comfort me about having to leave the school when she said, “God is going to answer your prayers in a way that is going to be far greater than your wildest expectations.” She continued, “The answer won’t come soon, but rather, it will probably be at the last moment when you feel like all hope is gone. It is then that He will finally give you an answer.”

She was as prophetic as anyone I have ever known. Was God speaking through her? I don’t know, but to this day, I have to believe he was.

To answer my colleague, my mind dug through those countless days of anguish and despair, and the words began to form. They had to pass through the filter of that prayer with those boys in the Cottage as we all stood around in the circle and prayed. The memory of what happened during that prayer still lingered in my soul.

From the bottom of my feet, the sensation began. As God poured the words through my lips, the Holy Spirit began to fill my body like a pitcher is filled from the bottom up. The electricity began to rise through my legs, torso, and eventually put my arm into the pile of hands. The words continued to speak as my entire body began to tremble. Attempting to retain my composure, I pressed on, asking God for this moment to never end. “They have to feel this,” my mind reflected while scriptures began to flow from my heart and out my mouth. The warmth of tears streaming down my face began to mix with the emotions in my voice until we finally said, “Amen.”

As I stepped back, wiping the tears from my eyes, the emotional toll was not just my own, for it was apparent in their eyes as well. My head was spinning as I tried to find a way to say goodbye. Once more, there was yet another reason to never forget, as they asked for a hug. In my heart, the pain of saying goodbye was a burden that must have shown. One of the boys raced to his room and brought out one of his most cherished items, a UNC flag. In the spur of the moment, I asked if we could have them all sign it, “As a memento,” I said. They all happily agreed, and each one took great care to make sure their name was visible. In a way, it was as if they wanted to make that indelible mark upon my heart; one, like the permanent marker upon the flag, that would never fade away.

Those multitudes of thoughts swirled around in my head as my colleague must have wondered why it was so difficult to answer a simple question about what I meant by being ‘Blessed.’ It was as Jesus had said to Thomas at that moment when he finally realized that he as standing in the presence of our risen Savoir. After putting his hand through the hole in Jesus’ side, his head suddenly became faint. The room began to spin. Stepping back, trying to regain his balance, he stared in awe at Son of Man, God in the flesh, who had now defeated death. He was speechless. Jesus said to him, “Because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.”

Yes, blessed are we that have not seen and yet have believed. But this was only one part of being blessed to which Christ spoke The sermon on the mount was full of blessings, enough to know that when we walk with Him, when we realize we have found our path only because He has led us upon it, it is then we truly know that we are blessed.

To my colleague, I finally said that one should be thankful for being in a place to which they had never realized they would be in life, by no cause or fault of their own.

He respectfully nodded in response.

To live or die is gain, and to know Him, Christ, our Savior, is to be blessed beyond measure.

To all things we should be grateful, and most importantly,

Thanks be to God.

“And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:

And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”-Matthew 5:1-11

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by | August 25, 2019 · 8:20 pm

A Butterfly Cloud of Faith

We awoke this morning to a blissful 64 degrees here in the foothills of the Blueridge Mountains. It was indeed a long-awaited respite from the summer’s toils. Although the sky was overcast, the soothing temperatures allowed for a more leisurely feel to the walk to church. Along the way, the bountiful colors of the wildflowers began to catch my attention. “Had they been there all summer and I just missed them amid the turmoil of heat and fatigue,” I pondered as my walking stick continued to make the rhythmic knock upon the trail? At first the red of the Cardinal flower caught my eye, but the farther I walked and became aware, the more colors that began to reveal themselves until the full spectrum of the rainbow was pulsating within view; the Vincas, Violas, Orchids, and Lilies of all shapes, sizes, and varieties. Pausing to catch my mental breath, my mind began to drift back to another hike in a far distant land. The place where the 23rd Psalm seemed to come alive; the Germanesca Valley in Italy.

The Germanesca Valley on the trail approaching Col-du-Pis.

My heart began to race as my thoughts returned to the life-changing scenery we had experienced on our Alpine journey.

Like a wounded warrior returning from battle, my body fought to keep the path of descent. In our unencumbered ascent up the mountain, we had seen with beholding eyes unspeakable beauty, flowers of every color of the visible spectrum. We had just scaled up the Germanesca Valley in the Cottien Alps to a point not far from the summit of Col-du-Pis. The altitude was challenging alone, reaching slightly above 9,000 feet in elevation. The thin air caused us to breathe while we walked as if we were running at full speed.  Each new turn in the trail unfolded another revelation of God’s creation, one that we had heretofore never witnessed. But in our haste and unimagined divine adventure, we had not accounted for the human element which so often detains us, shackling us to man’s law; time. From unimaginable heights we now scurried, our bodies weakened by the lack of oxygen battled to keep pace with the spirit within. In our haste, we pressed the pace around another massive boulder only to find a spectacle beyond comprehension. Looking back, had we not been suffering from the consequences of poor planning, or rather, spontaneously inspired destinations, we might have taken the moment we were about to encounter more slowly, more diligently. We are often reminded in those fleeting few seconds before death that events you thought could never be captured return in one glorious review. What was thought lost returns with a voracious message of what was most important.

How many times had the disciples asked themselves the same thing? Had they only taken more time to appreciate the precious little time they were allotted to spend with the Son of Man, Jesus Christ, how much more would they have understood? Jesus had tried to make them realize again and again.

“Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand…. I am telling you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe that I am who I am.” – John 13:7,19.

How many more questions they could have asked? How much more faith they might have found had they only known?

“Why weren’t they warned,” you ask?

Jesus foretold his death and resurrection on more than one occasion.  “Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. On the way, he took the Twelve aside and said to them, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!” – Matthew 20:17-19

Yet, they too were so pressed for time of this world, trying to make it day-to-day in circumstances under which they had little to no control. Albeit they were in the presence of Jesus, they too found it difficult, seeing so many miracles and hearing so much, that there was little time to take it all in and absorb it fully. After a while, their human bodies began to tire. The weariness of the journey was more than many could physically take; the emotional and spiritual strain alone of having one’s mind stretched beyond belief each day would be enough to cause a mental breakdown. Yet, Christ afforded them through his divine power the ability to understand, as he opened their minds as only God could do. “Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.And the disciples came, and said unto him, Why speakest thou unto them in parables? He answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given.”-Matthew 13:9-11

Enthralling scenes that no human could imagine took the disciples breaths away; again and again. They could never dream of what was just around the bend.

Just beyond the shadows of the granite edifice from around the curve in the path lay a patch of grasses covered with wildflowers, colors as vivid as the cloudless azure blue sky above. Yet, unlike anything we had yet to discover this day of miraculous discovery on the mountain, there was something unreal; something that pulsated from this patch of living color. As we neared, our shadows ran before us, touching the breathing spectrum of life. Without warning, the colors began to rise in place, as one. Our mere mortal eyes couldn’t understand what we were seeing; yet, we saw something beyond explanation. We inched closer and soon realized the cloud of flowers were hundreds of tiny butterflies, each matching the fauna of their selected petals below. As if their spirit could sense our breathlessness, before we could capture the image for all to see, the cloud of cuspid elegance dispersed into nothingness in a cloudburst of flight. Pausing, my traveling companion and I simply looked at one another in awe of God’s unending magnificence.

Numb from our weakened physical condition, we shook our heads and pressed on. Had we been less hurried, less concerned about our fear of missing the bus, would we have been able to capture the magnificent event? Would we have found the moment more impressive at that instant than we had otherwise seemed to feel considering our weariness and exhausted conditions? Each of us had witnessed something that would forever be part of something special, something that would allow us to forever change our perspective of life.

It would take many months for the scene to return to our minds in as an epiphany of revelation.

How do you describe the indescribable to someone?

How do you share a vision or testimony to someone that hasn’t shared the same path as yourself or has walked in a field of wildflowers?

More than likely, your answer is that it is nearly impossible. If the person you are sharing with has never had a similar experience in life or has never found themselves able to question their own spirituality, then they probably will not understand how to relate to what you are describing. Just as Jesus fought to make his disciples aware, against even the most obvious, in-your-face statements, they continued to be confused. Up until the very day of his capture and eventual crucifixion, they had yet to come to the understanding of all that he had said. It was until after his death and resurrection did they finally begin to fathom the trail of clues their Master had provided during their earthly time together.

Likewise, we must be aware of those around us that are either knew in faith are or those who have yet to accept Christ at all. They will look at you with ears unable to hear, with eyes unable to see, and with hearts often hardened from years of hearing the very words you might say to them. It isn’t until they have walked the trail of wildflowers and seen the cloud of flowers burst open into a prolific spectrum of colorful butterflies will they finally be able to comprehend your words. In the end, it isn’t us that can come into their hearts and minds, but Christ who must be the one. Alone we are only mouthpieces. It isn’t until Christ speaks through us in spite of us can we reach the lost souls of our world.

Yes, we can never do it alone, nor are we ever alone.

Open that back door and take a walk down the nearest trail and search for God in all that you do.

You will never be disappointed, and most importantly, you may find a miraculous beauty made by our Lord that will forever change who you are.

Thanks be to God.

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by | June 30, 2019 · 8:57 pm

A Legacy of Faith

Day after day, as one rock is painstakingly placed upon the next, the form of an ancient fireplace begins to take shape. The work keeps my mind off the fact that nobody calls me back from the multitudes of job applications I have submitted to various agencies. Prayers are lifted unceasingly. While working with mud and stone, there is time for the mind to wander and reflect; to commune with God. I am never alone, even when it may seem that I am.

Retreat Stone Fireplace

The work is slow and arduous. There are times it seems as if it will never be completed, so little seems to be accomplished. It was upon these last few words that the dust of intellect and God’s voice settled.

How compelling to see a structure rise up from the ground, knowing that the only access to the site where a building now stands was a trail through the woods. God’s hand was upon me every step. When block and stone began to be set, what seemed to be an incredulous speed of advancement seemingly came to a halt. Now, as the daily heat begins to climb as our calendar advances toward July, the afternoon temperatures began to soar, causing the pace to slow further.

It was on one of these recent sweltering days that the words began to form.

Standing back and looking upon the work of thy hands, God impressed upon me how permanent these stones are versus the rest of the building. The stones are like our faith and the Word of God. We are as dust, here today and gone tomorrow, but the Word of the Lord endureth forever. Who hasn’t driven down some lonesome backroad and happened upon an abandoned old farmhouse. The only evidence being the singular rock chimney built from indigenous stones found nearby. The remainder of the structure, if still there at all, had long ago succumbed to the rigors of rot and decay. Sometimes, the entire chimney is still completely intact; the heart of the old homeplace where often times the food would be cooked and would also be the only source of warmth in the coldest of winter days.

Like that old chimney, the Word of God continues long after the fragile flesh of this world have gone. It should also be the center of our lives. When we are gone, the remembrance of who we were will vanish. All that will often remain of our earthly life is sometimes the work of our hands. “For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust. As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.”-Psalm 103:14-16

However, that is not the point, leaving a legacy of ourselves. We might think that what we leave to this world should be like the chimney, a visual reminder, but that would be misguided. Don’t get me wrong, it is more than pleasing for our children, and their children to look upon the work of their ancestors and marvel at something that their ancient hands had created that remains until their day. Rather, what we should prefer is that our legacy points to Jesus and a Christ-centered life.

Those stones of the fireplace, each one carefully placed after being hand chosen, can be thought of as the individual moments in life where what we say or did something either in the Word or in a Christ-like manner, made a lasting impact on someone’s life, in a positive way. No stone is the same; likewise, no two events are ever exactly alike. It takes a multitude of rocks to build the entirety of the fireplace; similarly, life is a never-ending stream of events. In our own minds, they are interrelated, no matter the circumstance. They become forever who we are. Those who we reach in our life’s journey become part of who we are as much as the individual stone becomes part of the fireplace.

The mortar, like God’s word, carefully prepared bonds those moments together, uniting all into a solid, rock-hard formation. If the mortar is too wet, it runs and cannot uphold the next stone; its bond is weak. So too is the Word of God if it is watered down. Too often in today’s world, the church seeks to make God’s word “fit” the audience; make it relevant. That’s okay if it is kept in line with scripture, but the problem arises when it is weakened and altered to “blend” into what is considered acceptable by the world, to the natural man’s desires. When we hear of churches becoming more of an entertainment venue than a soul-saving institution, then we know the mortar has started to run.

From the opposite side of the spectrum, if our mortar is too dry, the stones cannot bond for lack of moisture. When the Word of God is delivered in such a dry, ritualistic manner, it becomes foreign to the listener. The concepts and teachings of Christ must be delivered in such a manner that they may be easily understood but without compromising their meaning. If those receiving the message are not right with God, then they too will be unable to understand; simply going to the show does not allow for reception of the word. “For the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed; lest they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.”-Acts 28:27 When the format of the program seeks to follow outdated legalistic procedures that are not biblical, let alone have a purpose, they destroy what the house of God seeks to employ; the presence of the Holy Spirit; the water of life and the moisture in the mortar.

In the end, if the mason has done their job well, the structure they have created will stand the test of time. If a life has been well lived, there should be no regrets. As a life well lived, the Apostle Paul said it best when he said, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.”

Each stone, each moment in time will have created a living legacy of a Christ-centered life to which many will attest for years to come. If they are equally blessed, there may be a certain fireplace around which they may gather and think of the one who built it, not alone, but in the presence of God.

One could only be so lucky.

Thanks be to God.

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by | June 18, 2019 · 3:53 pm

The Last Dragon

Here in the woods, the pain seems distant.

All around are the sounds of the gentle hush of raindrops falling on the multitude of leaves. Each tiny patter whispers a secret to its hearer. It is as if God is soothing the recent sharp edges of life that have cut to my very soul; tween bone and marrow. Only He knows the passionate struggles with which the past months had presented themselves. It is not lightly nor without conviction that these memories now torment the heart of one who gave his all to hold onto the belief that this was his calling.

There were choices; there always are.

Like the tale of two roads diverging in the yellow wood, as Frost would write, “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

There is not one day, no not one – even those that made you wonder why you ever chose to teach- that I would give back. Their pain made the creases in our soul; etchings of love emblazoned upon our inner being, never gone, never forgotten.

Yes, it is only from the heart that I write this story.

Each day that we walk in faith, we know not where the path will lead. That first day that those keys turned the lock in the door, it felt as if I had entered the den of a sleeping dragon. There was the overwhelming feeling of a darkness present. As the door opened, the emptiness of room 3212 would echo silent cries; a foreboding of things to come. Eventually, that room would become the classroom from which many stories would unfold, both good and bad. I could never imagine how it would have ended. As we are only human, we can never fully comprehend what God has in store for us. When we walk in that journey in which He hath prepared, we are refined by the fires of trials and tribulations. When the love that we share is genuine, it becomes even more painful when a door closes.

The sound of the swollen creek reverberates the feeling of how my cup had runneth over these past few weeks; the culmination of seeds planted long ago had come to fruition; some still waiting; some may never grow; yet, in all, the thoughts of the students left behind return. The image of the expansive whiteboard in room 3212 returns. On it, in its entirety, drawn with dry-erase markers, from one end to the other, is the picture of a red dragon breathing fire on a sword inscribed with one word, “Mathematics.”

It will be the last dragon.

Each semester, from the first to this one, God gave me the message of sharing my gifts through the telling my students of the parallels of the dragon and their fear of Math, the class that I would be called to teach. The first few days of each semester would find the dragon begin, always with the eye. From there, the image would slowly, during the course of the entire semester, grow into the final piece of artwork. To think of this as simply the entirety of this story would diminish the truth from all that there is to convey. It is more than just a picture, but a story of heartache, struggle, and a multitude of life’s blessings to which one may never fully know.

Behind the scenes, Satan would attack, lying in wait ready to strike another blow. When it seemed there couldn’t be any more things that could pummel my life further into the ground, there would be another twist that would sink my life into deeper darkness. Each time, from my knees, my cries would resonate to heaven; each time, God would give me renewed strength to carry on. Each time I drew closer to Him.

Just as I told my students not to fear Math (the dragon), so must we not fear the devil; for whom shall we fear if we have God? Yet, we should not be ignorant of his power and deceitful nature. “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”-Eph. 5:12

Whenever there was doubt about the effectiveness of the light within, God would send a confirmation. These would be the moments that will be cherished.

One of the many beautiful memories was when one of my students finished his end of semester review package we called, Dragon Flippers. The purpose was to tie in all the units of the semester into a flip-review package and to also allow students who might not have been as mathematically inclined to shine through their artwork, which was required on the cover. It was part of our end of semester review. Before the student handed his in, he pulled me aside to tell me something that will forever be with me. He told of how he had struggled with his own demons, and that through the light God had allowed to shine through me, he found a new purpose, a new reason to live. If you had known this young man, you would have never guessed that he would have such inner turmoil. He was the model student; always on time with his work, an “A” student, and as gracious as they come.

He then handed me his project. As I fought to regain my composure, I looked upon the picture of a young man facing a mirror. In the reflection was an angry dragon looking back. Inside the package, he showed a pictorial description of Ephesians 6:14-17, and how he had used the armor of God to battle this demon. He then continued. He said that he would not be returning to High School but would finish his studies at home since his family felt the public school environment was not healthy for his wellbeing. He went on to share how he had read many of my devotionals and that because of those writings, he knew that God wanted him to do in life. “Mr. Tron, I want to thank you for helping me to see the demon within me and to show me how to defeat him. You have been the best teacher I have ever known.” The flood gates opened as I watched him leave room 3212 through tear stained eyes, never to return.

The reason God sent me to Watauga High School would never leave my thoughts. Each day, after the pledge of allegiance, I would pray to God for guidance, strength, and wisdom. Behind me, a legion of His angels was there to protect and comfort me. For if it were not true, I would have never made it. Today, as the rains fall all around, it is as if those same angels were crying, knowing that the place to which I had been called has found a way to push me out. In their mourning, my soul is once again warmed; their compassion, a representation of God’s unending love, soothes the rough edges of my broken heart. No longer will I be able to stand before all those troubled teens to convey to them God’s love, through my own, by trying to help them in their life’s journey.

Early before school began during the last week of school when the morning sky had yet to awaken, another touching moment occurred. One of our EC teachers pulled me aside and shared what one of my students had said to her when he had heard the news of my leaving Watauga. In his words, she said, he couldn’t understand why they would be getting rid of Mr. Tron, when I was the only reason, he (the student) made it through Math 2. She continued to tell me that the young man was considering dropping out of school. But once he began to do well in Math, he realized that if he could do that, then he could handle anything else that was required to graduate. She then said what touched her the most, when he said, “We need more teachers like Mr. Tron,” he told her in a very solemn tone. Once more, the tears began to flow as my heart knew the struggles the young man had faced, both in the classroom and at home.

Stories like this one and the countless others made the door closing all the more painful. We are but of the flesh, and with that, we are weak. To know that our Savior has prepared for us a new path is comforting, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. When a door slams on your finger, the momentary pain is almost blinding; when a door slams on your heart, it bemoans your spirit to the core, driving you to your knees. It is from there, kneeling on the floor that we must seek Him most.

Like those dry-erase markers with which the dragon had been drawn, the image could have easily been erased. So too are we here for a short time, as a mere wisp of smoke, here for a moment in time and then gone. “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”-James 4:14. To those we encounter we have but one chance to share with them the purpose for which we are called. Many times, we are unaware of the role or the effect we’ve had, as God is working through us, such that on the rare occasion we are told of these influences, then we too know of how much we are needed in this dark world.

Another heart-wrenching moment was when the students were saying goodbye after I had shared with them the rest of the story behind the dragon; how that I was sent there by God and that God was now leading me on. The young man told of how he had been in a deep dark pit, and because of what I had said to him, beyond the limitations of the state’s standards for Math, he had been saved. Quickly I reminded him that it wasn’t me, but rather, God speaking through me.

I remember the day of which he spoke vividly.

He was one of those students who had extreme anxiety for courses in which he struggled; Math was the worst. On one of the days in which not only was Math causing him to question himself, he had also been going through a spiritual battle. When my co-teacher came to the room and beckoned me to the hallway, I was more than a little concerned. She then shared with me how he had called for me and how he had told her he was lost without hope. As my footsteps carried me to the room where he lay, I prayed to God to give me the words to speak; there was no manual, there was no guidance for this sort of thing; yet, all I could think was simply to rely on God, His Holy Word, and that He would speak through me. As those prayers were lifted, a surge of what felt like electrical energy pulsated from my head to my toes.

Looking back, I know in my heart that the Holy Spirit was with us that day.

When I opened the door, the young man was lying in the fetal position. His cheeks were stained from tears. As I walked in, he slowly sat up and thanked me for coming. I don’t remember the words that were said, I don’t know all that God had worked through me, all I know is that from that day forward, there was an obvious change in the young man’s demeanor in my classroom. From that day forward, it was as if he had been born again.

It was just one of many stories that transpired over the past three years.

One cannot look back and move forward.

In the end, the dragon stood for more than a parallel to Math. As we learn in Revelations 12, the red dragon represents Satan, who chases the woman (the church), who has a child (Jesus). The dragon tried to kill the woman and her child, but the earth protected her. God becomes our protector in all things should we choose to believe. “And when the dragon saw that he was cast unto the earth, he persecuted the woman which brought forth the man child. And to the woman were given two wings of a great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent. And the serpent cast out of his mouth water as a flood after the woman, that he might cause her to be carried away of the flood.And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth. And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ.”-Rev. 12:13-17

For many of my students, they realized that the dragon also stood for their ability to conquer any fear, including that of Satan. Their belief or unbelief was never questioned, rather, the light was present for all to see. In our walk, we can either to simply follow the law, or we can provide more than being the shell of a being living in a world of flesh; we can choose to be the light.

So it is, with this journey upon which I trod, answering His call to march onward, seeking that new shore. Yes, this may be the last dragon, but the story doesn’t end. When this path began nearly five years ago, those fateful words continue to ring in my ears today, “Wherever you say to go, Lord, I will follow.”

When it is your time to answer the call, choose your words carefully, for God will surely lead you to places you never dreamed and because of Him working through you, you will achieve things you never imagine. It will not be easy. There will be moments of incomprehensible pain, just as there will be times of unspeakable joy.

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, evidence of things unseen,” and in that, we will always find comfort.

Let us not dwell on things of the past any more than with which to inspire us toward a better path in the future.

Keep all those in prayer who have had their journey’s door close and now are awaiting the next one to open; for in the waiting, there will be learning and hope.

Thanks be to God. riority

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by | May 5, 2019 · 7:47 pm

What the Heart Can See…

I watched the river flow past through the raindrops on the windshield. It was one of those chilly Sunday mornings where you wanted to curl up by a fire and drink your bitter brew of choice. From inside the car, you knew it was the river, but from within the dry confines of the vehicle, it made a curious movement of Van Gogh-ish swirls across the glass; blue-greens, washed here and there by hints of sparkling white. There was confusion of the eye such that one could not discern fluidness from the earth. To one who knew better, it was merely the light through the raindrops creating a titillating joyous pattern of life upon the window pane. To the unbelieving, it made no sense. “…By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive:” -Mt.13:14

The pitter-patter soon became a heavy downpour. The comforting sound of rain hitting the car’s metal roof took me back to another time, another place.

The old metal roof of my paternal grandparent’s home was one of the most comforting places on earth. This time of year, the sounds of the afternoon rains would drift across the garden leaves that had just begun to sprout, and dance upon the tin roof. From inside, curled up on your favorite arm of the bedsheet covered old couch, you found your warmth from within. There was a precious ambiance of its own; the safety from without and the soothing wholesomeness of a home surrounded in the love of Christ that flowed within.

Like looking upon a vast landscape, the likes of a view afforded from the mountain top; one can only look upon the breathtaking vastness before you become weary from its expanse. Before long, the intimacy of the holler upon which the Retreat now sits calls, the comfort of that arm of the old bedsheet covered couch in grandma’s front parlor, a humbleness of view and spirit all its own returns; warming, softly caressing. To understand this perspective doesn’t require a formal education, it doesn’t require the memorization of scriptures, it doesn’t take any practiced ritual of faith; it only takes a view from a pure heart; a heart that walks with God.

“For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them. But blessed are your eyes, for they see: and your ears, for they hear.”-Mt. 13:15-16

Each day the believer walks in a world that is not his own. Around them, those who live for the here, the now, force their way into our conversation, our conscious, and our lives. They live non-stop practicing sin; unforgiven, uncaring, and most often, boastful of their earthly accomplishments. One motivational speaker, I recall from college, a man, speaking from his worldly experiences, once told our Electrical Engineering class, “Good things come to those who wait, rather, success is measured by what is left behind by those who hustle.” His point; take it all and leave the spoils to the losers. When we focus on that lifestyle, of hard-driven, climbing the ladder of success, we lose sight of what is most important. From the faith perspective, it is easy to see. As Jesus taught, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to get into heaven. This mindset can often lead to the blindness, “eyes they have closed,” to which Jesus referred in the scripture. Their hearts become hardened like stone, and soon, they can no longer afford to comprehend sayings of faith and belief. It becomes like a foreign language, one that they cannot comprehend. The world becomes tainted by their hearts that have waxed grossed.

They-the believers in Christ Jesus- see this world through eternal eyes, those that see with a purpose, unlike our sister and brethren who live for the mere existence from day to day. It is not a braggadocious offering, rather, an objective view. The mere existence of tactile images, visions of grandeur, splendid beauty that eyes pure of heart can conceive; these are just a few of the blessings that come with the heart that follows Jesus.

“But these things are seen by the unbeliever just as well,” you might say.

Yes, they may be seen in a certain light, but the believer, the one who truly walks by faith, sees these from the perspective as coming from the hand of God. A creation seen by our eyes that more than speaks to us visually, but also reaches inside us and strikes a chord to our spirit, enriching our being in such a way that we come closer to Him; the Father. Through this means, the Holy Spirit indwells in us, and we become one with Him. Those who don’t know have closed their eyes to the truth, and as such, are merely hollow vessels, constantly trying to fill their void with whatever great, new concept sweeping the globe. This emptiness haunts them until they pass into eternity, lost in their sin, forever seeking what they will never find.

Yet, it is there for all for the asking.

This morning, as my eyes were inspired by the collage of colors sweeping across my simple windshield, in my heart, God was playing an orchestra of thoughts and emotions. To explain this to the one with a waxen heart is merely to express the words of detail, but to the believer, the conceptualization of the moment whispers of their own fruitful living and a time when they too might have felt a common connection.

Jesus told his disciples when they sought to understand his parables, “For verily I say unto you, That many prophets and righteous men have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them; and to hear those things which ye hear, and have not heard them.”

We can walk in this world, but we may never see this world as those who are of this world. It is our responsibility as Christ-followers to share the truth, and allow those who are lost to find Him.

Those who chose to ignore the truth face grave consequences. As Jesus once more explained to his disciples after the sharing of the parables, “So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, And shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.”- Mt. 13:49-50.

Seek the Master’s hand, confess your sins at the foot of the cross, and invite Him into your heart.

You will be forever changed.

Thanks be to God. o

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by | April 28, 2019 · 8:41 pm

The Next Step…

Looking down, past the brown tops of my hiking boots, the abyss below opens up into a vast expanse of space. Blue-green vestiges spread beneath the view of their void occasionally obscured by clouds passing below. My feet are precariously placed upon a solitary outcropping of rock. From whence I stand, it is as if the whole world can be seen. The next step, if I were to choose, would be off into nothing; thin air, an empty void of obvious surface for which to step. Somewhere behind me, the faint voice of reason shouts, too far to hear clearly, for they have yet to catch me. I close my eyes and listen once more for the still small voice.

“I will never leave nor forsake you…”

He spoke to me as a father. Inside, the change was only known by my soul, as my own spirit had been infused with his Spirit. Outward, the metamorphosis had taken time but was still a work in progress. Yet, the call had been perfectly clear. The door had been opened, and it was now or never.

Eyes still shut, I step forward to where there was no place to step.

The shouts from behind are closer now, which turn to screams. There is no turning back once the foot has left the safety of the known, for once we leave it behind, there is no turning back.

They dropped their nets, never to return to those fishing boats. The father watched as his sons walked away from the family business, simply to follow a man that was merely a prophetic voice at that point, one that had suddenly come on the scene as a teacher of some new way of thinking. Gone, as if they had stepped off a cliff, never to be seen again. He tore at his clothes, wrenching in agony at their seeming abandonment of his life’s work. “How could they?” “What spell did this stranger cast upon his children?”

Again, standing at the abyss, my faith sustains me. There is no need to rush, no need to make haste, for to do so would only result in miscalculated belief. “Trust and Obey,” says the song, “for there is no other way.” As I stand and watch, the onrushing mist begins to part, ever so slightly. Through the fog, there appear distant edifices, dark and obscured, they are not yet visible. Their images undiscernible, but not mistaken for another. There is a firmness in what they represent; something solid and not imagined; real and not pretend. They cannot be touched from where I stand; but rather, can only be seen. To step to them before it is time would be fatal for the journey. Waiting, patiently, my heart drops as the clouds thicken and those distant images are once more obscured; gone before they could be imagined more clearly. Yet, the heart knows they are there. It is only a matter of time that once again, the clouds will part, and they will be visible once again; patience in the waiting.

The still small voice speaks, and we who believe listen.

Some might think them only pure coincidence, but to the believer, we know better. Each week, as the clouds continue to hide the pathway before my footsteps, there is that continued voice, speaking, whispering the prophetic words of things to come. Each new revelation begins to paint the blank canvas with what might be; where the Lord is leading. Again, the words, “Trust and Obey,” surface in one’s thoughts. Below your feet, there is no clear path, only the emptiness of

the unknown. Patiently you wait, not wanting to step before it is obviously the “time.” Each week, yet another revelation confirming the news from what was previously known. The past folds its story together, also confirming that this was not just chance, but obviously the work of the Master’s hand. Like the Red Sea coming back together after the Israelites had passed, crashing in upon itself with a thunderous roar, so too are doors behind slamming shut.

There is no turning back.

Onward you must press. Looking back only causes the heart to lament on things that were meant to be. Yes, it is difficult. Loved ones are some of those precious memories that you must leave. Their presence will no longer be in your immediate life, but rather, removed to a distant place where only the occasional visit may allow. Gone are all of those things in life you had worked so hard to achieve, all of those countless hours spent in toil for something that now seems to matter little. Yet, in truth, all the hard work and toil were the fire that forged the metal within.

Perspective begins to become your greatest gift, seeing what once led you astray, away from God. Now, with new eyes, you can see what once was hidden. Those moments, those dear precious seconds that you put aside for the sake of that “goal,” come into focus. The distant mountain comes back into view and once more, you can see it; a granite monolith, shrouded in greens and blues, standing firm where it had always existed, yet now knew to your own vision. The wind shifts and you can smell the earth, rock, and life that lives upon its surface. Suddenly you are struck with an awareness that shudders your body to the core; you have come alive; you who once were lost are now found; yea who once were dead, are now alive in the Spirit.

The cry of the nearby raptor echoes off the canyon walls below. The voice whispers once more, and another peak ahead appears. The late morning sun brings the entire scene before you now aglow with warmth, like God wrapping you in his bosom, comforting your soul. The energy of the moment flows from your head to your toes; the tingling unmistaken, like tiny pinpricks that make your body laugh with joy. Momentarily, there is no pain, nor weight of the world, no heartache, only unblemished joy.

In your heart, you smile for the coming days will soon reveal what He has prepared.

They had just left Jerusalem. It had been a heart wrenching, painful arduous Passover.

There was no turning back.

There had been so much hope, but in the end, so much tragedy. Yet, even now, as they walked toward the small village of Emmaus, they were confounded by the recent news of the empty tomb. “What could it mean,” they asked and speculated. So intense and sad was their discussion; they barely noticed the stranger joining them as they walked and talked.

“And it came to pass, that, while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know him. And he said unto them, What manner of communications are these that ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad?”-Luke 24:15-17

They were stopped in their tracks with disbelief. Cleopas, one of the two answered him saying, “Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which are come to pass there in these days?”

“What things,” he replied?

They then went on to explain how Jesus, a prophet mighty in deed and word to God and all people, was brought to be put to death by the chief priests and rulers; to be crucified. Their eyes now brimming with tears as they spoke to the stranger, who had yet to be revealed to them.

“He was to be the redeemer for all Israel,” Cleopas said pulling at his garment.

The other continued when Cleopas could no longer speak, “It has now been three days since his burial, just today, and now this morning we hear the news that cannot be believed.”

Cleopas clearing his throat broke in, “Yes, certain women, also of our company made the most amazing discovery at the tomb, finding the stone had been rolled away and the grave was empty.”

The other broke in now, with an elevated voice of hope, “And they said that there was an angel told them that he was not here, but that he was alive!”

Jesus stood listening, finally nodding in response and said as he began walking toward Emmaus with them, “O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself.”

The seven miles seemed like seconds when the two realized they were almost at their destination. The pair had been so enthralled by all their traveling companion had to tell them about the prophecies of old about Jesus, they forgot the time. The stranger felt as if he knew them. So reluctant were they to end their fellowship, and fearing that the stranger was traveling farther, they offered for him to remain with them for the night. It was often dangerous to travel after dark, and so being kind hosts, they made sure their new friend was to be protected. Jesus obliged, and minutes turned to hours once more. They soon found themselves seated at the table preparing to begin the evening meal. Giving their guest the honor of breaking the bread, they watched with gracious anticipation, not realizing what was about to happen.

As Jesus took the bread, broke it, and then handed it to the guests, their eyes were then opened…and he vanished.

Soon, the path will be made clear. Soon the direction you are to choose will be obvious; there will be no mistake. When you are handed that precious bread of the body of Christ, you will feel it touch your skin, you will see Him standing before you, and then, yes, then your eyes will be opened. Your heart will quicken, and eternity will flow through your veins as you become a child of God, born not of the blood, not of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

How often have we been seated with the very thing in life that has provided for us and given us the very essence of grace and neglected to realize it? How often have we taken what Christ did for us for granted? Have you been blind to the truth; God sent his only Son to earth, to become flesh and blood, to suffer and die for our sins? He then arose on the third day to sit at the right hand of the Father. He has prepared the path for you; awaken and take his hand and receive that precious bread of life.

Soon, yes, soon, the door will open, and the pathway will be waiting.

The next step is up to you.

The voice whispers once more, “I will never leave nor forsake you…”

Thanks be to God.

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by | March 30, 2019 · 9:47 pm

Resurrection of my soul…

Like the rock being rolled away from the tomb, this weekend has felt like the resurrection of my own soul.

From whence the countless days of study my mind hath prevailed, it felt as if there would never be an end to the grinding, arduous task of pushing my faculties to complete one more problem; one more page; one more concept of Mathematical computation from which there was seemingly no end.

This was just the final chapter in three years of study. Coming into the field of education as a Lateral Entry Teacher, there were the required Education Classes to be taken that my Engineering degree never afforded. This in conjunction with the learning curve of applying the pedagogy real-time was my learning curve which became a daily experience. But, yet, God in all his wondrous glory, finally answered the prayers for wisdom. So that this weekend, the first, since having recovered from another round of illness the previous, has set me free to pursue the path the Lord hath prepared well in advance.

Deep within my being, there was an awareness of His hands upon the pages of events which would unfold.

Weeks before, the singing engagement for the New Hope SDA Church in Valdese had to be postponed because I had contracted the flu. Too sick to make it out of bed, it had to be delayed; which just so happen to be this weekend.

Then, out of the blue, another church, one we had been members of before leaving our farm and previous life, Cumnock Union UMC, called asking if I would be interested in returning to sing and speak. Miraculously, it was the same weekend. This all happened before the upcoming test that was scheduled for March 22nd.

In my heart, it felt as if God was telling me, that this would be it; this would be the final attempt, the one in which I would pass. He was preparing the pathway of the future because it was time to move on.

I didn’t realize it then, but those words would be more prophetic than one might realize.

Adding to the feeling of culmination, the weekend before the test, my laptop decided that it had enough and was going to finally die. Contrary to my disbelief, I asked God to again give me the wisdom, and through a few more attempts of using the education from my previous career, something inside me clicked again; the feeling of confirmation. A voice whispered, “Before you leave this afternoon, the sign of things to come will be that your laptop will be working better than ever before.” Within an hour of that voice, after an upload, a couple restarts, and driver addition or two, suddenly, the old laptop finally responded. It wasn’t just fixed from the current problem, but as He has predicted, it suddenly began working better than it had in almost two years; Divine IT Guidance at its best!

From that point forward, there was a feeling of God’s hand upon each new day.

Yet, He wasn’t going to let it be easy. A new cold began to overtake me so that by the morning of the test, Friday, March 22nd,  I literally debated going or not. Shaking my head in disbelief, I struggled to the cupboard and took enough cold medicine to hold me through the duration of the exam.

“This can’t be happening,” I thought to myself.

A couple of hours later, in a cloud of medication, I walked into the testing facility, unsure of how much it might affect my ability to focus. Once more, God wasn’t through with me. When I met the test administrator, after handing me the sign-in sheet, unlike previous tests when I either had to ask for or was never close enough to obtain it, I was given my favorite locker number: God’s number in my mind, #3. (God the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit). Then to add to the feeling of confirmation, unlike before, I was also given light colored paper; something I had complained about in previous attempts since the paper was so dark it was hard to see the marks of a pencil.

As I sat down at desk #3 in the testing lab, my body began to tingle with the power of God surging through me. The first few questions were a cloud of foggy, cold-medicine induced confusion, but once the surge of energy fully kicked in, I went back and corrected those and then began pushing onward.

Before I knew it, the 2-1/2 hours was nearly up.

Again, unlike before, at the end of the test, after having fully completed the test and had time to go back over questions that I was unsure of or needed more time to solve, I sat and saw 30 seconds remaining. I bowed my head in prayer and when I said, “Amen,” the clock showed three seconds remaining. When the timer ended, and my hand clicked onto the next page, tears began to fill my eyes.

There on the screen was the answer to three years of night classes, almost 10 months of study for just one test, isolation, withdrawal from the world, and diligent obedience to my newfound career; A Passing Score!

It was one of the most surreal moments of my life; here I wanted to shout, but I was so sick I could barely breathe.

Throughout the ordeal, I had vowed to celebrate with a cinnamon roll and coffee whenever the day came that I might pass. Instead, the reward that morning was to drive back home and go back to bed and try to recover from the illness that had overcome days earlier.

I would remain sick in bed the rest of that weekend, while outside the warmth of spring tapped at my window sill. Sunlight sparkling through the closed slats of my bedroom windows, taunting my fever-racked body.

Eventual, healing would begin. This weekend became even more precious as the days of this last week counted down. By Friday I was like a student ready for the end of the school year. My energy level was off the charts.

When Saturday morning broke, I was as a child waking before the dawn in anticipation of opening gifts under the Christmas tree, it was long before the light of day when the bed couldn’t contain my eagerness any longer. Jumping from beneath the covers, the anticipation of the joy of the day’s events kept gurgling up into my heart, like the overabundant rapture, frothing to the surface; the Spring in my soul had returned.

“Today, the new journey begins,” my mind said.

From the moment the fellowship and sharing began at New Hope, the blessings only increased.

There was so much to be thankful for and yet, so much more to come.

Later, when the rear tire blew out going down the Interstate at 70mph, I was unfazed. For in my mind I had already contemplated getting off at the next exit to get gas. This was God’s way of saying, “Yes you will!” Within an hour, there were two new tires on the back of the car, and I was once more off to my destination for the second half of my weekend; God was with me each step of the way.

Resurrected like our Lord and Savior, my spirit has been revived. Like Jesus, the grave could not contain him; God defeated Death, and from its dark domain, Light will forever be in the world.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Thanks be to God.


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