Tag Archives: Jesus

by | August 17, 2014 · 10:44 pm

A Message in the Clouds…

Clouds tell us a lot.

This morning as my son and I went out for our morning run, we had just passed a particularly challenging uphill section of our route and as I gasped for breath, I looked up to the sky and notice a nondescript cumulus hovering overhead. It made me think back to how many more times I had done the same, looked heavenward while running. The act of looking skyward in some instances was from a need for silent prayer to get me through the day or at least to the end of the run, but in this case it was simply to enjoy the beautiful day that God had made.

Then the thought came to me, “How many times had I had passed this point of exhaustion in my younger days, only to have no idea that someday I would be performing the same feat, but with a son at my side?”

I listened to our rhythm of footsteps, his matching mine even though his stride could easily be half as great as my own. He now stands six foot tall and his loping pace seems too easy for his slender frame. He barely breathes as I struggle to gasp in anything that would ease my burning lungs. Yet, as we continue onward, we move as one; father and son under a pale blue sky, the sunrise at our backs. In my earlier days, I would push the pace when running with someone so that we might achieve a greater return from our workout, yet this morning I neither desired to push the pace nor shorten our time together; this was more than just exercise.

As we trotted along, we talked of many things. My mind ran parallel, looking down at the two images flowing along the green backdrop of countryside. My own father never dreamed of running with me, or at least if he had, he never said so. One summer when I was in high school I began increasing my long runs. On one of the first attempts, I asked my dad to check on me while I tried running an 18 miler. He agreed and became my support vehicle of sorts. He would drive by in the old Chevy Suburban while drinking a beer. He even offered me a drink, realizing I was probably in need of fluids, and then he was off, driving away in a cloud of dust down the gravel road as I plodded onward. Those were solitary runs, something I became to understand were part of the territory. Having someone accompany you was a treat, as was today. We had by now turned and were on the return leg of our run with the sunrise now facing us, as ominous clouds blocked its rays; precursor to potential rain I told my son. He nodded; the pace was finally catching up with him.

The last mile of our run is up the hill to our home; one of the most challenging climbs I’ve known in all the years of my running. As we approached it, I kept talking, sharing not realizing the strain the incline was taking upon my body. Not until we nearly reached the summit did I have to stop speaking and search for oxygen to feed my starving limbs. The scene of cross-country runners passing the finish line and bending double to catch their breath came to mind, hands on hips, heaving chests. One young man from Oregon had joined our high school team, a boy who could have doubled for the late Steve Prefontaine. He walked up to me and told me putting my hands on my hips was cheating, that it was making it easier for my body to recover, not allowing my chest cavity to build strength which was part of the training. I dropped my arms at the time, trying to achieve the effort my teammate mentioned. Today, I hugged my hips and sucked in air, thinking of whatever happened to the young man and where he might be today, if alive at all. The greenness of the shade we had reached at the peak of the hill made me think of Oregon and what running in that place might have been like in Pre’s time; magical for sure.prefontaine

The whinny of Sugar, Mary’s pony broke my dreamlike state as we walked through the front gate and into the inner yard. Sugar stood waiting for her breakfast, which we soon took care of as we walked our cool-down to the barn. Kittens danced and spun in the early morning light; happy to see us approach knowing breakfast was soon to be served for them as well.

Then my son asked, “Dad, did you notice there wasn’t one car?”

I thought and he was right, we hadn’t seen one car on our entire time out.

“No, you’re right,” I said in response.

“Is it always like this in the morning?”

“Well, if you get up early enough on Sunday morning it can be,” I replied, “but if you go far enough, there will eventually be at least a couple cars.”

He nodded.

I would save the stories of countless miles I had once run on the logging roads in the Weyerhaeuser forests of South Carolina and not seen one human during an entire summer.

Today was about us, not about the past.

Later, after our cool-down, I sat on the porch sipping my morning coffee and noticed the sky a perfect blue. All the clouds had vanished and the pasture grasses before me echoed a richness of plush moisture. My son walked up to the porch after having checked the chickens and I noticed he looked as if hadn’t even broken a sweat. I told him to come on up and take off his shoes and socks so his feet could breath. He obliged and we sat side by side, once more sharing and watching the world before us come alive with the days dawning, our bare feet cooling in the breeze.

Off in the distance, clouds began to loom once again as a hummingbird flitted by.

angelcloudThat afternoon on our way home from church, I looked up in the sky and saw a cloud with the perfect face of an angel looking down. The image was so perfect, it looked almost appeared man-made. The angel had wide outstretched wings and seemed to be floating across the sky, a vision of comfort and peace from above. I felt a certain confirmation inside, knowing that we were being watched from above and that somehow, someway, no matter what life had in store, God would see us through; so said the image in the cloud.

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by | May 23, 2014 · 2:06 am

Review of “Bruecke to Heaven” by Peter Younghusband of the Christian Fiction Review out of Australia

Bruecke To Heaven: Children of the Light by Timothy Tron

Bruecke to Heaven: Children of the Light

When two of Jesus’ seventy disciples are sent into the wilderness, they find themselves in a remote Alpine valley delivering the Word of God to an ancient people. A miraculous event occurs and they realize they are not only to give them the Word, but the abilities and gifts that go with it; one of which becomes memorization. Centuries later, when the people of the valley are asked to leave their homelands because of their known gift, their memorization of the entire Bible, a journey and adventure like none other begins. They quickly learn they had been imbued with more than just one ability, and soon, their bridge to Heaven becomes a race for their lives.

The Guru’s Review:

I knew when I read the description for this book that I would be blessed and that this book is unique and special. This book has not let me down. I finished this speechless due to being in awe of everything related to it. Truly, this book is inspired by God and many times, I could feel His presence with me. I have had that with only a few books. I will never forget this book. It really does have a profound effect on how you see God and how you have experienced Him. It has made me want more of Him and a desire to increase my faith and always be in His will.
This is the first book I have read from Timothy Tron and it won’t be the last, if of course, he choses to write more after the coming sequel, which is in the works at the moment. His writing style, command of the English language and imagination transport you to the 1100s AD, set in both the alpine area of France and also in Lyon. You are more than a spectator in this novel, you are there with all the characters as if you are part of the plot. I found it difficult coming back to reality every time I stopped reading. His characters are all very relational and three dimensional, well developed and believable whether they are protagonists or antagonists.Tron has created some very admirable and loveable characters in the protagonists, Arktos, elder of the Vaudois people, Jakob his grandson, Peter Waldo (real name Augustus Pizan but uses the name of Peter Waldo who existed years before him), Marik and Steffan who seek out the Apostle Speakers (the Vaudoisians who have been imbued with the gift of memorization of the entire Scriptures), Gabriel (Waldo’s right hand man and whom you are forever thinking is he really the angel Gabriel or not?), Jean Paul, Jakob’s older brother, Julia, Jakob and Jean Paul’s mother. There is an emotional investment in these characters as you read. Everything they go through you feel it with them, joy, grief, horror, sadness, stubborn faith, righteous indignation, victorious elation.

The same goes for the antagonists, the main two being General Lucier and Pope Lucias III. These two embody the evilness and corruptness of the Roman Catholic Church, both are power hungry, corrupt, manipulative and deceitful and deluded into thinking that they are doing the will of God by persecuting and eradicating anyone who defies the teachings of the Catholic Church. Both have no issue with murder, torture or persecution to achieve their aims: recant your faith and convert to Catholicism or die. You feel their hatred towards the Vaudosians, you recoil in horror at their persecution of those who defy them, and the methods of killing they employ, you can feel the evil oppression they exude, yet you feel pity for them for them when you see this evilness taking them over and blinding them from the Truth that is so ever before them.

Here is what Lucias considers of himself:

.…..for I am the embodiment of heaven on earth, and if it is my will, it shall be done!

He sees and hates the Vaudoisians and their gift as a threat to his papacy:

Yet, there it was: the fact that they had preserved the Word of God of their own accord-a Word not compiled by mankind, but that was given to them reportedly from the sources themselves. What would it do to the power of the papacy should it become known? or worse yet, what if the unknown Word produced an entirely different view of the hereafter or the road to perdition?…..

Then there was the other, more-distressing side note: the fact that the books these people quoted were exactly as they had received them, unfiltered and encompassing all of the writing and teachings that followed the ministry of Jesus and his disciples. This Word they possessed gave a power that bound them to one ruler, but a ruler who was not of this earth. That in of itself sent a shiver of terror down the papal spine, causing him to shudder at the thought.

Tron’s research into this era, Vaudois people, the aforementioned corruptness of the Catholic Church and their politics add depth and credibility to the story. It is hard to believe that this is a novel and not the account of actual events as they happened, including the supernatural intervention of God in various ways as described that is just not commonplace in today’s world.

I can see Tron’s passion throughout as it is loosely based on his family genealogy from his paternal side. When I read this on his author page on Amazon, I was further intrigued, and contacted him about this. He sent me an account of his discovery and it is very captivating.
Here it is, in part:
In 1995, my late Aunt June Tron gave us a one-of-a-kind housewarming gift; a genealogy binder including information about the town in Germany from whence we came along with our pedigree, all the way back to the founding father’s of the little town, Walldorf Germany.
In 1998, we decided to take a trip to Germany………We pulled up in front of the Heimat Museum……..That was the next phase of my research as I began drinking from the proverbial fire hydrant of knowledge. I found that Tron’s had existed as part of the Waldensians from the beginning and I then began to learn what it meant to be Waldensian. The people from the valleys had migrated to Germany in 1699 and built Walldorf from scratch. Two of the original families were my direct ancestors. The rest of the link and how they go back in time genealogically can be explained at a later time; suffice it to say, its a long, long tale.
The story and the tale of which you are reading are closely intertwined, but what made me begin writing the book was the conflict of how they received their iconic name versus how they actually became who they were; meaning, Peter Waldo did not cause Waldensians to exist, rather, he became famous because of who the Waldnesian people already were; thus, the impetus for starting to tell our side of the story. The more I thought about it, the more I questioned, “Why would these people struggle for over 600 years, fight in over 30 wars and face extinction of their kind all because of what they believed.” Then I realized I had to tell the story from the perspective of “BEING” Waldensian. There had been many books written about Waldensians and their struggles, but none had been written from the point of view of what it was to be Waldensian and how that fact formulated who you were and how you faced adversity.
What Timothy means about “Being” Waldensian is very aptly described and forms one of the main backbones of this novel. Peter Waldo, actually existed and the term Waldensian is based on his name.
I wondered about the name of the novel, what did Bruecke mean (bridge) and why have a German word in an English title? It was this strange looking title that drew me to this book in the first place. Timothy explains again:

Intime, the meaning of some of what I have put down becomes clear; and so it was with the title, “Bruecke to Heaven”. Initially, my timeline was going to extend through their migration to Germany, thus I decided to include that influence in the title. But later, when it became apparent that my 600 year timeline would only progress only about a year and a half in the first book, I questioned if I really should keep that working title. I felt compelled to keep the title foreign in language, but didn’t know why. Recently, I was driving to work and was listening to a song on the radio when it hit me why the title fits. People who are not Christians, come into Christianity not knowing anything about it and with time, learn how and what it is to become a Christian. Then, like the obscure title, they realize the meaning and eventually accept Christ into their life, and as such, the title becomes clear.
I also questioned Timothy about the surname of Arktos, the main character, which was LeTron. Was this the original surname of his ancestry? Timothy had this covered too:
Like the title, I didn’t realize why I felt compelled to use a form of my family name for the characters in the book either, but something said to me that it was important to do so. Last year, while attending a Waldensian Festival in Valdese NC., I learned from a young man who was from the Alpine valleys where the Waldnesians came, was there doing research and he explained to me what my name actually meant in the ancient language of the valleys; Tron meant “One with Strength” and that they often gave their warriors this title. Needless to say, I was once again blown away. Even though my book was already in print by then, I felt good about keeping the form of the name intact and that indeed it was an important part of the actual history.
Interestingly, Tron has portrayed the LeTron family (Julia, Mary, Arktos, Jakob, Jean Paul, Rebecca and Angela) as a very strong family by nature and by faith without knowing what his name meant.
Faith is a strong feature in this novel. How I now long to have the faith of Arktos and Jakob! The author portrays the Vaudoisians living the Word so vividly and naturally, it is literally their first nature. And in this novel, these two and the Vaudoisians know no different as their ancestors have lived this way since two of the seventy disciples (Olympas and Herodian) delivered the Word of God to them. At this delivery, God imbues them with the ability to remember and quote the entire Word/Bible. So for generations over the centuries, until the time of the Crusades where this story is set, this closely knit community, almost cut off from the secular world, live and act out the Word; for them it is a tangible experience, the Word being literally alive. Tron even mentions this in his Introduction: Author’s Notes:

It had been memorized word for word and passed down from one generation to the next, preserving not only the mere lines of Scripture but the ultimate spiritual power it possessed in its infancy. Regarding this “Word,” the Bible reads in John 1:1-5,

In the beginning was the Word,and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.He was with God in the beginning.All things were created through Him, and apart from Him not one thing was created that has been created.Life was in Him, and that life was the light of men. That light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness did not overcome it.

Yet in truth, there were some who did not recognize the Word and the light, and this is their story.

The spiritual warfare aspects of this novel are very unique and different from any I have read in other biblical supernatural thrillers. In all the instances portrayed in the novel we see the power of the Word manifested though either chanting or singing Scripture: Arktos and his elders chanting Scripture as the papal army invade their village of Rora and the papal army is destroyed and at the end of the novel, Arktos chants Scripture when the papal army is about to capture them, defeating them. Jakob discovers that when he sings Scripture, the same happens; when he plays the lira the power of God either defeats their enemy or confuses them, in one instances him playing this lira disguises their compound as empty as the papal army invades and search it even when Arktos, Jacob, Peter, Gabriel and their staff are still present in the compound, another where the group he was in passes by in a mist, unheard of by the papal army, as they moved close by them on their journey homeward bound. I know these occurrences are due to the other gifts imbued by God when He delivered the Word via the disciples, but it does make me consider how it would be if Christians were able to do the same in the reality of our world in this 21st century?All in all, this is one very memorable novel that has had a profound affect on me. It is has encouraged and strengthened my faith and relationship with Christ, witness to my family and community, inspired and challenged me to stand up for the Gospel and have a ready defense for the same just as 1 Peter 3:15 says:

….but honor the Messiah as Lord in your hearts. Always be ready to give a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.

It is one book that needs to be read again (and most likely again!).

Highly recommended.

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by | April 7, 2014 · 5:55 pm

Turn On the Light…

noah1As I stood in front of the men this past Sunday morning who had gathered for the GUMC Men’s breakfast, I began my devotional presentation by first asking a question, “Have you heard of the saying of when you finally get something and that light bulb in your head turns on.” Most of them nodded. I asked them to hold that thought in their heads for a few minutes and we’d get back to it. I then told them that today’s message would involve discussing the three recent Religious themed movies which had recently been released in movie theaters, “Noah, God’s Not Dead and Son of God,” and that understanding would soon be evident.

I first began by quoting from memory the book of John, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. 4 In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. 5 And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend[a] it.” Yes, in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and He was in the beginning with God, yet even though He was the life of men and the life became the light to men, they did not willingly receive it; that proverbial light doesn’t come on for many of us until it is nearly too late. I have been studying the book of Enoch for my sequel to “Bruecke to Heaven: Children of the Light,” and know that before Enoch was finally taken to Heaven for good, he had been given a preview. Yes, Enoch had an “open-house” review of Heaven before he was finally taken and during that tour, he was told about everything that had ever happened to mankind but also everything that would happen. Then he was taken back to earth and told that he would have one year to tell his family all that he had learned and seen; after which time, he would be taken for good. Imagine knowing you only had a year to live, a month, a week or just a few minutes; how profound your life would become and how the focus of your life would quickly change. For the men’s group at GUMC, there were several that had recent health traumas or even soon to be known operations; all of which had certainly changed some of life’s relevance for these men and their families. For those that have never accepted Christ into their lives, this is when the light turns on and they finally get it. Enoch had a year to tell an eternity to his family, for them to absorb all that was and that ever will be had to be more than daunting; yet, in the end, they got it.

It was interesting to note that when my family and I saw the movies, we saw them in the reverse order I had listed them; meaning, we first saw “Son of God”, then “God’s Not Dead” and finally “Noah”. However, for the message Sunday, it was necessary to review them in reverse. I began with “Noah” which was directed by a proclaimed atheist, Darren Aronofsky, yet he admitted in an interview that he had purposely tried to follow the story of the Bible in order to keep it true and that he had only changed some things in order to make the movie more dramatic. I had read several reviews before finally deciding to take my family and finally came to the conclusion, that if I wanted to be able to honestly speak out against it, I first had to see if for myself. I had also heard that the word “God” was not used in the entire movie. “Oh, that probably won’t be such a big deal,” I thought to myself, assuming there would be other appropriate representations; boy was I wrong. I shared with the men that Noah was like what was mentioned in John when the light shone into the darkness but the darkness did not comprehend it; Director just didn’t get it. My frustration began when God was repeatedly, over and over again referred to as the “Creator.” I wouldn’t have had such heartburn with this if they had at least once prefaced “Creator” with “God the Creator,” yet not once did they bother to mention God. That was just the beginning of my frustrations with the movie.

In my studies of Enoch, which I previously mentioned, I have become very familiar with Fallen Angels in the Bible. Satan himself, a Fallen Angel, was referred to as an Angel of Light in 1 Corinthians. So when the narrator in “Noah” starting talking about the Fallen, my ears perked up. Next came scenes of phenomenal cinematography showing fiery figures of angels plummeting to earth, something I’ve always wanted to see in person, but could never imagine to the extent seen on the big theater screen. Shortly afterward their ascent is where I became disgusted to the point I almost left the theater; they turned into these monster things that were a cross between Transformers and the rock super hero in Avengers. Yes, the director had tried to make “Noah” into a DC Comics action adventure, and from that point on, it became obvious faith of humanity and salvation were not the themes the movie, unlike the Biblical story, would follow. The light had not reached the darkness nor had the light in Aronofsky’s head turned on; Aronofsky just didn’t get it.

Next in my review came the movie, “God’s Not Dead.” I had seen a trailer for this movie long before it was released and godsnotdead1knew it was a very low budget production, yet the acting seemed solid enough. I had spoken with both of my pastors, Linda Yow and David King, about the movie and they both had heard great things about it, so we were thrilled to join the Cumnock UMC church group to go together to see the movie. As the movie progressed through multiple threads, the anticipation and dramatic ending built until when the final moment hit, you wanted to literally stand up and shout in the theater, “Praise God!” I could feel the electricity in the air in that less than filled auditorium on a blustery Thursday night from just the few people in attendance, so great was the movie. Unlike Enoch’s family who had a year to get it, some of the people in “God’s Not Dead” only had a few minutes to accept Christ into their life, but in the end, they got it. Yes, this movie company and director had gotten it; their light bulbs weren’t just turned on, they were blasting a spot light so bright “Noah” could have used its source for their Angels of Light and been all the better; Yes, they got it!

sonofgod1And finally, I came to the movie “Son of God.” For all the wonders the movies can produce these days with special effects, Mark Burnette hit a home run with his ability to finally capture on film what I felt like, was the essence of the spirit of God. Although the story was the retelling of the crucifixion of Jesus, it was also a celebration of his life and ministry. The production was very well done and likely had a large budget, but unlike “Noah”, “Son of God” followed as much as possible the stories from the New Testament. And like “God’s Not Dead,” “Son of God,” got it, and because of what “Son of God” portrayed, we can look forward to a life everlasting, a salvation for our sins thanks to God the Father who so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son. It is up to, us unlike early man, to not run from the light, the Word of God, for He is our salvation of life everlasting.

You see, all in all, the three movies exemplified Jesus’ own words, “The least shall be first and the first shall be last.” Meaning, the lowest budget film, “God’s Not Dead” was by far the best and the most expensive, “Noah,” was the worst. Yet like the Apostle Paul said, even if there are negative things being said about God, at least God is being discussed and in the end, this is a good thing.

Turn on the light and let the light shine in…

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by | March 27, 2014 · 9:45 am

Bruecke to Heaven e-book on Kindle Select Promotion

FrontPageOnlyFrom March 25th to March 31st, Bruecke to Heaven will be on sale for only $.99 during the Kindle Select Promotion.

Pickup a copy for your Kindle device and join the journey where your faith will be tested and uplifted.

Bruecke to Heaven on Kindle Here

Bruecke to Heaven normally sales for $3.99 on Kindle

Have a blessed day,

 

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by | January 17, 2014 · 8:50 pm

Epiphany Through the Fog of Time…

rainydayThe air hung heavy overhead like a cloud enveloping my mind. As I left work, I knew that I was but a whispered breath away from passing out from exhaustion, but this was my Friday, the last night’s work for the week so I would celebrate with a hot breakfast for the ride home. I had stayed longer at work that morning than was expected due to the strange feeling I had of needing to hang around and talk. When I left the building to go to my car, rain was falling in a thick mist adding to the chill of the gray morning air; sleep would come easily, but I first had to make it home safely.

By the time I had left the drive-thru with my warm breakfast in hand, the rain had subsided, but the overcast sky was dull and foreboding. To visit my favorite drive-thru meant taking the two lane road home; a dangerous option, but one that I took with the understanding my senses had to stay alert. There on the windy two-lane highway of 751 that threaded its way from one major highway to the next past farms and Jordan Lake, the scenery itself was enough to help keep your mind awake if not provide for a reminder of the seasonal world in which we live. I had just turned onto 751 when a log truck pulled out in front of me stabbing my waning energy with the likelihood of being stuck behind a slow moving vehicle. To someone who was well into the throes of sleep deprivation, getting stuck behind a slow moving object is like putting an anchor on your back and running a marathon. However, today was my lucky day, or so I thought for the truck quickly accelerated and I soon found myself losing ground to the heavy footed driver; for that I was thankful. I regained focus on the warm meal and melded with the music that was thumping along as the fields and forests passed by.

I was suddenly and quickly awakened from my trance by the red lights of the logging truck just ahead that had slowed. Not giving it much thought, I figured he or the car just ahead of him was taking a left and we’d soon be on our way; but we didn’t.

We came to a complete stop.

The rain had picked back up, and my windows were slightly fogged as was my mind. I could see the images ahead but like something unexpected when you emerge from a deep sleep, their juxtaposition and shapes don’t make sense, so they don’t register. I sat for a moment taking in the scene before me looking at dark shapes, objects blocking the road where there should be open lanes. Pools of liquid oozed from one pile of metal as fumes escaped. Nearby, the large dark object was still not making any sense. A man walked out, snapped a picture on his phone and returned from wherever he had come. It then dawned on me, the large dark object had wheels, and I was actually looking at the underneath side of a large transfer truck. Then like the slow dawn of a morning sunrise, the gravity of the situation hit me. I felt a pit in my stomach. There before me was a horrific car wreck, and from what I could see ahead of the logging truck in front of me, there was little chance the person that had been in the heap of metal still lying in the middle of the had survived. Something was odd about it all, for I didn’t see anyone walking around other than the lone photographer. I sat unthinking, feeling as sullen as the skies above. The rain pelted my window.  I turned the wipers back on to see cars beginning to turn around; we weren’t going home this way anytime soon. I felt the tug of exhaustion mixed with another feeling I couldn’t describe. I knew I had to turn around and take another route if I were going to make it home this day.

As I drove off, the farther the distance between me and the accident grew, so did the realization of what I had just witnessed. Emergency vehicles began to pass me going the opposite direction on their way to the scene. Totally unaware at the time, I soon realized, I had been one of the first people to arrive.  There hadn’t been anyone walking around because it had just happened.  That feeling I couldn’t recall earlier returned and a sensation of crushing despair flooded my soul.

My mind flashed back to the fateful night in New Harmony when a woman drove past the DOT barricades blocking the road that was a dead end which stopped on the banks of the Wabash river overlooking a small cliff. At that time, as a kid, we looked at it like the woman was just lost and had panicked; thus, flying off the end of the road and landing in the swollen river, where she and her car load of children drowned. It wasn’t until a recent reflection upon the event that I was profoundly struck with the realization that it was more than a possibility that she meant to do what she did. This would be years before another woman in South Carolina would do the same thing and attract national attention, when she climbed to safety from the sunken car leaving her own children behind to drown.

However, like the epiphany of the past in New Harmony where the truth pierces through the fog of time, so did the conclusion I could’ve possibly helped. Yet, I was in no shape with myself being on the verge of passing out at any moment. Then another burst of realization hit me, “Had I not stayed at work as long as I did, that pile of smoldering metal could have been me.” Once again, God had placed his hand upon my life, directing me, guiding my pathway for my journey was not yet complete. I said a prayer for the person or people who might have passed, for something inside told me a soul had departed from us back there on that rainy roadway.

The grayness of the day had now become one with the emotional landscape through which I drove. My mind floated from one past event to the next knowing a moment in time can make the difference between living and dying. God gave us free will, yet when we give our lives to him, we allow his presence to define who we are and how we live. I can’t help to believe that with this faith, we also allow his heavenly hand to reach down and direct our daily paths.

That night I had a dream.

littlechurchI had found a small country church, empty and abandoned. It was nothing fancy on the inside with an interior of pine paneling for walls and the typical red carpet underneath the modest wooden pews. I sat near a window and waited. Soon, as if I had expected them, there came a crowd of people dressed in what first appeared to be robes. As they drew nearer, I could see that they all had extremely pale complexions and snow white hair. Each of them wore suits of fine white linen. All but one were young men; the other being a stunningly beautiful young woman wearing a flowing white gown.. As they filed passed, I inquired to one of them as to where they were going. They told me they were going to a funeral, but they would return for me when they were finished. Something I don’t remember happened when they returned because I tried to speak in my dream, which caused me to shout out in my sleep, waking my wife who would have thrown me out of the bed if she were physically capable.  I don’t remember any more of the dream past that point.

The next morning I was still somewhat bothered by not only the accident but the dream as well. So, I decided that maybe it would help my catharsis if I sketched down what I could recall; the scene in my mind that would not go away.

751crash_sketchAs I began to draw the accident from the day before, another accident scene from my childhood came to mind. I could see the bus over the fiery figure underneath. The high school boy, Scott Knapp was his name, had pulled out on his motorcycle and crashed into the bus, getting trapped underneath. The bus was moved away from the flames, but the boy and his bike remained in the fireball on the road. We all watched from across the road, unaware at the time, there was a kid in that blazing inferno. After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. McKinney came running out of the school with an army blanket and ran to the fire, throwing the blanket on an object and pulling it free; it was the badly burned body Scott. I recall how he survived for a few days but eventually the 3rd degree burns were too much to overcome, and he died. I often wondered after that day if I had known he was still in the fire if I could have or would have done anything different.

I finished the sketch and realized I had drawn the perspective of standing in front of the logging truck that had blocked my view. I figured it was just my imagination, and left it at that. Days later, I spoke to another coworker about that morning, and we found the crash online. Just as I had feared, there had been a fatality. Mr. Harold Sugg of Pittsboro had died at the scene. Then, along with the description of the accident was the photograph. There in the 751crashnews photo was a picture exactly the same angle and direction from my drawing, the one I had done from memory.

I don’t know what all of this means, I don’t know what God is trying to say, but all I know is that I’m thankful to have had another day to hug my children and breathe a breath of fresh glorious air on this side of the green grass.

May your journey’s be fruitful and your travels safe, God Bless.

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by | December 30, 2013 · 11:25 pm

Reflection of Faith…

f7fbe5b871a811e3859712a851556c4a_8It is the time of reflection.

This past year like all those gone before seems to have been a blur, yet when I think about each event, each moment, there are pieces so many that they become like the sands upon a beach, too many to tell individually; they have all become my collective memory. Tonight as the sun fell into the horizon, we strung temporary lights in my daughter’s tree house so that we could clean out the seasons of debris, storms and corpses of beloved pets that found the refuge of the lofty manner their last resting place on earth. The artifacts we unearthed along the way provided me memories far beyond the past year and into the childhood days of my now preteen daughter. Given time, the tree house would have become like those pets, decayed, forgotten and melded into the wood to become one with the world around them; their beings long ago passed. As her childhood passes, so do the same fondness for playing in the old wooden structure built aloft in the trees just outside our bedroom window. Like each of us, with time we change and so do our passions for things of this world. However, as we age, we find that the things that matter most go beyond those earthly abodes we so often adore and hopefully we find what is most important in life.

While cleaning, we found leaves and old toys in all manner of dried and faded states scattered about the nearly forgotten play house. It had become an oasis for the pets of the farm, a safety zone where they could find shelter from the storms and the scent of their master whom they cherished to the bitter end. The outsides of the structure were painted by happy children, eager to decorate their new home away-from-home. Dinosaurs, trees and a single bright sun adorned the bare wood of the single room cabin in the bows of the stand of trees. The house was built so that the trees could still move and allow the structure to float on their braces underneath, thus giving it the ability to withstand even the most violent storms. Hence, to this day, there have been little signs of wear from being a home in the trees. Vines have begun to grow through the boards making the house even more one with its surroundings. It is not an air tight structure but was built to give the feel of such a dwelling. As we stood outside and admired the lights within it reminded me of the time I had just finished the cabin in the woods near our current home and would stand outside of it too at night, looking inward at the lamp light burning its soft warm glow through the windows and door into the black abyss. The same warmth and comfort from that light made you feel like this was home, and so it was once again. The creation of something from nothing, only to have the connection of creating life from death echoes back to ancient times.

The feeling it invokes brings to mind the following scripture:

“Most assuredly, I say to you, he who hears My word and believes in Him who sent Me has everlasting life, and shall not come into judgment, but has passed from death into life.” – John 5:23-25

My journey this past year began early in the throes of late December 2012 when I wrote in my journal about the path that was only about to begin; the one I had yet to travel and its pathway I had no idea where it would lead. I had put my manure spreader on the market and was selling it the next day in order to help pay for the publishing of the first book. I was literally turning farm equipment into a manuscript. I wrote sarcastically in my journal that night that my book may merely be a bunch of manure but like the spreader I was selling, I had to also spread the Word, so that the journey could begin. To be fair, I had to at least try; I had to begin an evangelistic mission of sorts, one I had never planned when I first put pen to paper and began writing the first book. But like all things Heaven sent, we seldom know where they will lead us until we find ourselves already there. That night I also began writing in my sequel, one year from today and once more, I went back and reread those words, the start of another journey, another turn in the roads of time for the characters in my first book, “Bruecke to Heaven”. Like me, they had no idea where they were going but put all of their faith in God, for they too had passed from death to life in order to believe in the Word. No longer are we confined by the law of sin, but rather we are given the choice to believe and to accept Christ into our lives, and for that I am eternally grateful.

The past year I have met and spoken to countless wonderful people, each with their own story, each leaving their impression upon me in one way or another. I have been places, seen things and performed acts I would have never imagined. Some of the most significant things were hearing of my children winning second place in the first ever Jr. Bocci tournament in Valdese as part of their annual Waldensian Celebration. Had it not been for the journey of the book, we might never have been there for them to enter. There was the time the woman was moved to tears during my radio interview on the Truth Radio Network after hearing my song and reading the cover of my book; her story involved recovering from cancer surgery and how the words from the cover had spoken to her. Then there were the countless times when speaking to someone for the first time, I could feel the Holy spirit move through me and into them, a sensation indescribable but its reaction on the one to whom I was speaking priceless. Another moment was seeing my book on the shelves of Barnes and Noble; something years earlier I would have never imagined and still find it humbling to see. I could only imagine what grandpa and grandma would say or even what Aunt June would feel knowing she had been responsible for getting the ball rolling. She never lived to read the book but passed the day of my first official public book signing; something I will never forget. Like life from death, I carry on the memories and the journey continues.

As we prepare the tree house for a new life, one with lights and a new purpose, we take with us the memories of those pets found absorbed into its floor, our family and all the trails that faith takes us and with it we must continue on into the darkness. We now have the light, the Word and we shall forever be changed.

May your new year involve something blessed, a tale of faith, a journey of life and a moment in time you will never forget.

God Bless, Have a Happy New Year and Lux Lucet in Tenebris for All!

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by | December 23, 2013 · 11:03 pm

The Birth of Hope…

imagesCANET9ZXThis past Sunday I had the privilege of filling for Tom Lee during the part of the service where he normally delivers what is called the, “Children’s Message”. Tom and his wife were blessed to be called away that morning to the birth of a new grandson named Jacob. Ironically, my message involved the birth of another child, yet this would not be the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ as you might be expecting. No, this was not a Christmas story you might come to anticipate this time of year, so first allow me to explain why I was lead to share this story.

Earlier in the week I had a unique dream which I wrote about in a previous blog, “Flames of the Spirit”. To summarize; in the dream I went back in time and met people rejoicing in the spirit and met an ancient being who told me that we had to carry on the special gift we’ve been given, passing it on from one generation to the next. To some degree I was perplexed by what the elder I met in the dream meant by his words, but the more the week went by, the more I understood what he had been telling me. Then a couple days later I saw a trailer for a movie to be released in 2014 and it all became clearer. The movie is called, “Noah” and stars Russell Crowe and Emma Watson.

Here is a link to the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OSaJE2rqxU

We all know the story of Noah, but not until recently did I understand how Noah fit into the family lineage of Enoch. Enoch as you may recall is only one of two people that were taken to Heaven without dying, Elijah being the other. Enoch was afforded a view of Heaven before leaving and was allowed to return to earth for 30 days in order to tell his son Methuselah what he learned so that mankind could record the events of the past, present and future. I’ve been studying the books of Enoch as part of the references I am using in my sequel to “Bruecke to Heaven”. As I mentioned earlier, this story had to do with another birth but this was not the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, but rather the birth of Noah.

So unusual and strange was Noah at birth that his father Lamech was alarmed, as were all that saw the imagesCAK6UHLKnewborn child. His skin was as white as snow and as red as a rose; his hair was as white as a white lamb’s wool. His eyes were the like sun’s rays that lit up the room and his face beamed as something from another world. The nursemaid held him up to show everyone and as she did, the newborn baby levitated from her hands into the air. Everyone was scared and afraid of the infant and cried out. Lamech was so bothered by the condition of the child that he immediately went to his father Methuselah and pleaded with him to go to his father Enoch and ask him if there had been any tampering or foul play by angels with his wife to cause this calamity.

You have to understand that this was a time when angels were known to visit earthlings and copulate with them, creating giants (Nephilim) and other creatures which began to defile mankind. So adamant was Lamech about it that Methuselah agreed and went to the ends of the earth and called out for his father, who by then was already in Heaven permanently. Remarkably, Enoch heard his son’s cries and answered him. He assured him that the baby was indeed the son of Lamech and his wife and that there was no interaction or tampering from angels to be worried about. However, he told him that the child was indeed special and chosen by God and that his name would be Noah. He went on to tell him that mankind had become so full of sin and unrighteousness that God had no choice but to destroy the world with a great flood; all would die except for Noah and his family.

Methuselah returned and told Lamech of the words of his father and how Enoch had said that from now until the end of time, even after the great flood, that mankind would continue to become more and more unrighteous until one day, there would finally come a generation that would arise up and defeat all sin and darkness.

Yes, eventually a generation would rise up and defeat all sin and darkness, halting the unrighteousness.

It was upon reading this that my dream came back to me and how the elder had been so clear about the wealth we possessed and how it was imperative that it be passed from one generation to the next without it being allowed to expire.

Then like a light switch turning on, it finally dawned on me that the wealth, treasure and inheritance the elder was speaking of was right in front of me; The Word of God and the story of his love for us all. For there to be that future generation, we have to pass on our inheritance and educate our children so that they too can carry on when we are gone, keeping the Word of God alive; our hope is our future just as is the birth of a new life.

untitledYes, it is the season of birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus, through whom we all inherit eternal life, if we only choose to accept him into our lives and continue to share the story and to continue to have hope of life eternal.

After all, it is most undoubtedly the best Christmas gift of all.

Merry Christmas.

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by | December 19, 2013 · 2:57 am

Flames of the Spirit…

imagesCAZ5RNSOIt’s not often that dreams stay with me after I wake up but I had one recently that was so vivid and profound that even a couple days later I am still able to recall most of it with clarity. The parts that especially have stayed with me involved a celebration and someone I met; for some reason, I had stepped back in time.

The first part of the dream had something to do with an outdoor event where people dressed in long robes and dresses that one might call, “Sack Cloths”. They had gathered as a multitude upon a tree-lined grassy lawn. The congregation was celebrating some event with songs and praises. I was encouraged to come closer and join in, so I did. Shortly afterward, out of nowhere, from over our heads came a large light beige colored canopy that began to descend over the throng. I got the feeling of being inside an enormous tepee, where the sheet wrapped completely around the crowd, but angled up toward the center as if suspended by a hand from above. Folds of the canopy lay upon the grass and completely enclosed us all from the outside. The material was light enough I could still see the sunlight filtering through it.

It was at this point that I became aware of there being two factions of belief in the crowd; those who accepted faith and our ancestry unconditionally and those who believed but had difficulty accepting everything and felt obligated to track the past one brutal line for line, word for word, tracing it back through time upon part of the canopy that now hovered overhead. The non-accepting partisans had their section of cloth partitioned off into an oblong section of the strange cloth where all of their precious writings were kept. They obviously knew what was coming and had their cloth cut out from the other material, but yet it was still held in place from where it had been cut. The separated cloth was suspended by a large hoop that the cloth was stretched over and was held in place in the massive overhead canopy by leather lashes which were stitched into the main cover. It made their special cloth appear like a door stitched into the floating canopy that was sewn shut.

All believers, accepting and non-accepting began to shout and hold their hands aloft, singing praises and imagesCAXMGPNSworshipping aloud, their voices becoming one. The noise became so strong that the cloth overhead began to rise off the ground. I could see light from underneath the bottom of the great sheet as our shouts lifted it higher. Suddenly, there appeared flames above us, flames that soon caught the overhead canopy on fire and it began to burn. The flames were mostly clear but flickers of yellow and blue sporadically appeared on the edges of the cloth being burnt. Blue sky could be seen through the holes where the fire had burnt and before long the flames had entirely consumed the cloth, allowing the sun and sky to shine on us once more. The oblong cloth stretched over the hoop had been unharmed by the flames and fell gently upon the green lawn below, where it was immediately examined and found to be safe from harm. A chorus of elated voices followed as everyone was overjoyed to find the history had been preserved. It was odd, but those who had been accepting and those who hadn’t had suddenly become one in spirit; the sensation of being divided had vanished like the cloth overhead. I had an urge to share with them how amazing this was but then a strange feeling came over me: I became aware that there was a reason I was here but that I wasn’t to tell anyone what I knew. For some reason I realized my knowledge would only cause trouble and change the course of history; a tragedy for all. So I kept quiet and continued to take it all in.

imagesCA1HVR49From this courtyard of celebration I was led past several small buildings until we reached the yard of a humble dwelling; its functionality greatly outweighed its aesthetics. In front of the home was an elder seated at a table made of roughhewn wooden slats. His white hair was bushy but shoulder length with a smattering of gray streaks throughout.  At first he looked as if he had black bushy eyebrows but once my eyes became accustom to the light, I realized he wore thick black rimmed glasses. His face was clean shaven but the lines of age had etched their mark leaving the corners of his mouth in a permanent frown. He motioned for me to join him and my guests soon left us. He introduced himself, but I didn’t catch his name. I only understood him to be an ancient relative whose message to me was of grave importance. He proceeded to tell me that it was vital for me to understand that monetary things of this world could not be taken with us to the other side. He explained that it was our duty to make what was left behind not easily accessible to those who might be considered our heirs lest it corrupt them and cause anguish. Rather, we had to invest our wealth in things that would continue to grow over time and would enrich the lives of those loved ones we left behind. Their ability to cash out these investments must be made unreachable and only the maturity of our investment be realized from something other than worldly possessions.

I was confused by his words and pondered it at great length. He realized my frustration and then confirmed the feeling I had felt moments earlier when he said, “You are here for a reason and cannot tell anyone, lest you cause great harm. Go and continue your journey and continue to share your story as before.”

I awoke and felt as if I had visited someone very dear, but his face was as unknown to me as was his name. I got up began to go about my day as normal and kept reflecting back on the dream. As the hours passed only certain aspects of the dream began to slip away yet the celebration, the face of the elder and his message stayed with me.

I began to think of the dream in context after hearing another family member talk about loved ones coming back to visit us after they had died and then it dawned on me what the dream had been about. I was no longer perplexed but thankful for the vision and realized the power of the Holy spirit like that of fire, consuming all that tries to smother it, eventually overwhelming all that attempt to block out it’s light revealing the truth and uniting our faith as one.

I might not ever know for sure who the elder was in the dream, but I have a pretty good idea…Lux Lucet in Tenebris.

What do you think?

“And again, when God brings his firstborn into the world, he says, “Let all God’s angels worship him.”[a] 7 In speaking of the angels he says, “He makes his angels spirits, and his servants flames of fire.”[b] 8 But about the Son he says, “Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever; a scepter of justice will be the scepter of your kingdom.” – Hebrews 1:6-8

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by | December 8, 2013 · 10:44 pm

A Message from a Celebration of 125 Years…

1463136_567113273363295_1249261911_nYesterday as we stepped back in time at the Farmer’s Alliance store in Siler City to honor their 125 years of operation and the anniversary of Ms. Nancy Tysor’s 50th year as store manager, I had to realize there was a message in the stories we heard over and over at the store that meant something about that simpler time so long ago when we moved at a different pace and took time to listen to the world around us. As we shared stories of our past I realized it has almost been a full year since losing my mother to cancer and here we were once more fast approaching another Christmas where one event seemed to crash into the next. With each day that passes the intensity of the season increases until we find ourselves in a fevered pitch of headlong pursuit from one event to the next. To some it is the season of “Deja vu”; having felt we’ve been here before and already done that. Yes, once more in the season of Advent, we find ourselves hearing the familiar stories of the birth of Jesus and singing all the old familiar songs. Yet, every year there is another nuance, another twist in the story that strikes a different chord in each of us. This year for me, it has been the delivery of the message to Mary that she would become the mother of God’s only Son. In the first chapter of the gospel of Luke the scripture reads, “The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.”

Now I don’t know about you, but having an angel appear before me and speak to me I can safely say that I don’tMaryandGabriel think the first thing I would think about is, “What kind of greeting,” he might be using to introduce himself. My thoughts would be more of the overwhelmed type, where I would be trying to cope with the magnitude of the situation and to see if I was awake or only dreaming. Yet, we are told that Mary was greatly troubled at his words and questioned the purpose of his being there. Could it have been that she didn’t realize this was an angel sent by God? How many of us would recognize an angel if one were to appear before us and begin delivering to us an important message? How many of us would be even be still long enough for an angel to even have a chance to visit with us? Our world has become so chaotic with the overload of messages, news and constant noise that there is little time to find a quiet corner and reflect on what it is we are doing here and what God has planned for us in this wonderful life we lead. It is said that we often entertain angels unaware and for most of us, this is probably truer than we would like to give credit since we undoubtedly have passed them without even taking the time to notice.

However, in the time of Mary, faith was on a different level than what most of us know today. In that time, one can only imagine there were far less distractions of the day, but beyond just the lack of noise there was the knowledge of God on a realm where visiting with an angel was not uncommon. Faith was a way of life, not an afterthought in one’s hectic schedule. Prayer and devotion were second only to survival. So when we find Mary in the presence of Gabriel, she is not overwhelmed with the event, she’s not blown away, “Oh My GOSH, there’s an ANGEL!!!” Instead, Mary takes it in as calmly and matter-of-factly as iif someone were telling her something which she really didn’t want to hear; and by the way, “Was he just greeting her with a friendly or demanding tone?” If we put ourselves in Mary’s shoes, we could quite easily see how she was troubled by what she heard. Imagine being told you were favored by God and for that, you would have a child, out of marriage, from a virgin birth and He would be the Son of God. Talk about knocking your socks off!  Yet, even though the impact of the news was definitely life changing, it was the purest of faith that could accept this message and live with it. Anyone else would have either dismissed the message or been found as a disgrace to her family.  Although troubled and curious about Gabriel’s delivery tone, Mary realizes when Gabriel says, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you,” that she has nothing to fear, for God will bless her.

I know in my own life the past two months have been a flash, going from one event to the next until I’ve found life becoming a blur. Yesterday while attending the 125th year anniversary of the Farmer’s Alliance store I once more felt and heard the voices of lives lived in a different time all come back and share with us now; it was as if we had been visited by an angel. The celebration made me realize how much we miss those days of sitting and sharing with one another, listening to our friends and neighbors tell us about their lives and living. The music combined with the mood allowed us to step back to a simpler place and time where faith was more of our lives, where one could talk as easily about a calf down as they could about the birth of Jesus, neither would be considered out of place.

You see, yesterday made me realize, the message was as clear as it was to Mary only the tone was left up to us to interpret.

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by | October 19, 2013 · 10:04 pm

Sling Blade of Life

Armor10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  – Ephesians 6:10-17

 

Today, we finally spent some much needed time at home. There is so much to catch up on here on the farm having spent most of the summer on the road or away from home. One of the first things that was past due was clearing some of the fence rows. I know there is more than I could do in a day, so we started with the one closest to the house. Knowing that most of my 2-cycle engine tools are in need of a small engine mechanic, I forewent the option of using a motorized blade for the good old fashioned “Sling Blade”. For those of you unfamiliar with a “Sling Blade”, it consists of a straight axe handle connected on one end to a blade that is about six inches in width and two feet in length. The blade is straight for about a foot, then curves in an arc at the end, providing a slicing side and a hook side. When sharpened and handled properly, one swing of this ominous tool can slice through a wrist size sapling in one fell swoop.

Back when we first bought the land that our farm now sits on, I cleared much of the tract from the home site to the pond with the Sling Blade, a stretch of about three hundred yards long and a hundred yards wide. Needless to say, I became very proficient with this weapon. Today, as I slung my blade at the weeds and thick brush that had grown up over a very abundant summer of rain, I found my technique still intact but the muscles that were needed to maintain this level of efficiency had long ago vanished. Nearing the end of the fence row we were working, I had to rest more and more until it was apparent, this would be all I could do for the day. Thankfully, I had two very useful helpers on hand, my son and daughter, each helping to carry the debris to the burn pile we were building. Back in the day, I use to haul all my own brush after cutting it. Today, I would have accomplished much less had I not had them with me. As time marches on, what we give up in strength  and ability, we sometimes accumulate in blessings like children who eventually make up the difference in what we once were and who we are now.

As we travel around the country spreading our faith and gospel, we tell the story and words of Jesus throughWarriorForGod song and the written word hoping to reach those who need to hear this story or be reminded of their walk with faith. As we grow in our faith, we hope the path we have chosen helps our children to see how they too can become stronger and greater in their faith. As with each swing of the Sling Blade, the body becomes stronger and more proficient; thus it is with the Word, each time it is visited or spoken, we also become stronger and more proficient at telling others. As with time, we eventually leave our children’s side and allow them to discover life on their own, whether it is in school or out in community. When they are away, we can rest in knowing that we have laid the foundation for them to build upon. However, when we hear of them coming home from someplace we had thought to have been a safe haven having experienced an influence we might have considered very undesirable, we have to sit up and take notice. The fact that they report to us, their parents, of this event having felt uncomfortable, for example, hearing the teacher’s poor choice of educational experience, we in some degree take comfort knowing we have in part done our job. We have given them the tool to use in life to understand what is acceptable in our beliefs and what is not. They have slung their blade and felt it hit its mark. Yet, as much as we try to witness to others and evangelize the Word of God, it brings me sadness to know that behind our backs, the ones we thought to be on our side, have been influenced by either the media or through other avenues to the point, the felt the educational tool they chose to show was okay in their opinion. In this manner, it tells me we have so far to go in what we do in order to spread Christianity.

Christians are under attack every day, not only from the world, but even from those within our own circles who have apparently been misguided by whatever influences. We cannot afford to stand still and assume every person who claims to be a Christian is fully understanding of the Word and has truly accepted Christ; it is these people whom can be as dangerous as the one who are out to end your faith or even worse, your life. Satan doesn’t stop at the door, if allowed, he will come on in and make himself at home, waiting for any opportunity to enter into your life and bring you down.

As time goes by, what we begin to lose, we must replace with those whom will someday take our place; our children. We cannot simply assume that they will learn to swing their blades of righteousness on their own but rather we must show them, teach them and pass along what it is to fulfill the path that God has given us through his only son, Jesus Christ, so that we may be forgiven for our sins, and be saved through his Grace, for it is by this Grace alone that we will get to Heaven and it is by Grace that we must live our lives.

Do you have a fence row in your life to clear and will you get your children to help?

Tomorrow is a new day, don’t let it pass without giving someone the opportunity to hear the Word of God and to know life eternal; it is our job.

 Sling that blade.

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