Tag Archives: mission
Protected: Loss and Love
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Filed under Inspirational
Alone – but Not Alone
My dear friend Richard’s wife, Ann Ruffin, passed away a couple of days ago. We all knew it was coming. Her terminal illness had been prolonged by Richard’s total commitment to her well-being. He had told me that being her primary caregiver was his mission in life.
In this time of mourning, part of me wants to reach out to my friend, to seek to help in this time of loss. Yet, another part of me tells myself, “What can you do? Richard is 86 years old. What can you do for him that he can’t already do for himself?”
Then the voice inside says, “Sometimes, all someone needs is just another person to be in the room with them, silent, but aware, saying nothing at all.”
When C.S. Lewis was grieving the loss of his wife, whom he called H., he wrote these lines, “At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”[1]
From those last few words, “If only they would talk to one another and not to me,” my feeling of wanting to go sit and be with my friend, saying no words, just being in his presence, impress upon my thoughts.
Likewise, we often misunderstand the Holy Spirit. As Lewis wrote in another article, “The real thing is the gift of the Holy Spirit which can’t usually be—perhaps not ever—experienced as a sensation or emotion. The sensations are merely the response of your nervous system. Don’t depend on them. Otherwise, when they go and you are once more emotionally flat (as you certainly will be quite soon), you might think that the real thing had gone too. But it won’t. It will be there when you can’t feel it. May even be most operative when you can feel it least.”[2]
God knows infinitely more than we will ever begin to understand. “And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever.”[3] So it is that when he sends the Comforter to us, it will be in ways and in our presence that we comprehend the least. It will be like a silent friend sitting with you in a room with the air as still as a morgue. The only evidence of life is the faint sound of the wall clock ticking in the next room. Time passing, as we too shall someday.
If we genuinely seek to be like God, to walk with Christ, then we too shall understand how sometimes fewer words, or no words, speak volumes more than some of the greatest speeches presented in all of humanity. Our nature is to seek the companionship of others. Mistakenly, we sometimes think we have to spew empty clichés when wanting to console our friends and loved ones in their time of loss. But we are only speaking the reflection of our own empathetic prose. When we find ourselves alone without another being in our presence, it is then, in this void of humanness, that we find we are truly not alone. If we believe in God and know Him, we find that we need others less. Yet, we also find that when other believers are with us, His presence increases. Does Jesus not say in scripture, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them?”[4]
As C.S. Lewis wrote in the grasp of his grieving, he was shaken to his core because of the loss of his dear H. Through his words, we can find a Christian in pain, seeking consolation. Howbeit he, Lewis, being an intellect, it must have been evident to him, either then or later in life, how much more he needed God’s comforting hands upon him. We can read how he sought others in those lines of text, yet he didn’t want their words, only their bodily presence. In this light, we can feel how Lewis, either knowingly or unknowingly, craved the Holy Spirit to come into his life. Yet, there is a part of me that says he might not have fully comprehended the complexity to which his grief had confounded his thoughts, to the point, he sought that which had gone, but in truth, was only passed from this life to the next.
We are but vapors in this life, here for a moment. We will someday spend the rest of this life in eternity. Where we spend it is up to us. When a loved one passes on, if we know of their faith in Christ, if they had received the gift of salvation by the Grace of God, we can then be more than assured, yes, we can be sure that they are there in the presence of the Lord and the host of angels waiting for the day when we arrive.
Pray for my dear friend and his family in their time of loss, but let us also praise God for bringing home another daughter in Christ.
In all these ways, let us say, “Thanks be to God.”
[1] A Grief Observed. Copyright © 1961 by N. W. Clerk, restored 1996 C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. Preface by Douglas H. Gresham copyright © 1994 by Douglas H. Gresham. All rights reserved.
[2] The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume III: Narnia, Cambridge, and Joy 1950-1963. Copyright © 2007 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved.
[3] John 14:16 KJV
[4] Matthew 18:20 KJV
Filed under Inspirational
Mission to R.I.D.E.
“ 7 Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” -Matthew 7:7-8
After leaving a friend’s home recently after having dinner with them, we had 
discussed the possibility of my joining a mission team to the Waldensian Valleys located in the northwest corner of Italy. I was overwhelmed with a sense of purpose once again. This was not to be misconstrued with my everyday purpose in life; standing before the next generation and doing my best to implore before them the necessary morals and standards to base their lives upon, albeit through the discourse of Mathematics. No, this sense of purpose was of a higher power, from God. To be more specific, it was the answer to my question I had asked Him in the recent past. “When you are ready for me to go, let me know,” was my question to God about going to the Waldensian Valleys. Suddenly, out of the blue, He has called for me to go. However, as before, the human nature of my mind wants to step in the way, especially when the question of funds arises. I know deep in my heart that if it is meant to be, then there won’t be any doubt, regardless of funds or no funds. So after leaving their house, I purposely asked in prayer that if He truly wanted me to go, to speak to me directly. The next morning, Matthew 7:7-8 was waiting for me in my daily scripture reading, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find…”
“Yes,” he had answered.
On our way home, before the prayer, the thought of “how” nagged at me in the back of my mind. Suddenly, the idea of the “GoFundMe” project came to me. Would it work? Would I have a purpose needful enough to spark the imagination of other enough for them to donate to my cause? Deep in my soul, there is a voice speaking to me that tells me once my feet land upon that soil of those ancient martyrs, my life will never be the same. Like the Englishmen, Charles Beckwith, who would eventually relocated to the valleys to serve, I know beforehand the potential impact that standing in places that heretofore I could only imagine, would be cause for great joy and weeping, simultaneously. Tour after tour at the Trail of Faith, I shared with those who could not go, like myself. God again and again, spoke through me and allowed me to bring the Trail of Faith, which was modeled after the original monuments and historic buildings of the valleys, to come alive. Many visitors, and myself, were often moved by the Holy Spirit. Now, to go to the very place where my heart was preparing for not only those guests but for my own testimony, would be a mission of more than just self-inspiration and revitalization. There is the hope that in this journey, there will be an evangelistic fire that will erupt from which many will be touched. How, where, and by what means this will happen I can only conjecture at this point.
To try to explain the nature of this mission in one word is not possible. Brother Barry exclaimed that it was many things in one, and thus was born the acronym, R.I.D.E. (R-Research, I-Inspiration, D-Devotional, E-Education). As God prepares my heart and mind for what is to come, there are also those miracles that one cannot predict, only God is capable of knowing. So it goes, with what little I can predict, the RIDE will by His will become reality.
In all of this, there is so much that I have already learned. Learning to receive was and continues to be for me one of the most difficult attributes to practice. “Ask and ye shall receive, knock and the door will be opened…”; easier said than done. But when one thinks on this as God’s will, there is no hesitation to knock nor ask.
Another night I wearily prepare for much-needed rest, and another night, I lift up this need to God in prayer and ask that if it is to be. If that comes through GoFundMe, then so be it. However it happens, I can peacefully rest assure that it is in His hands.
Thanks be to God.
If you would like to help fund this mission project, please click here, Mission to R.I.D.E. and Thank You in advance.
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Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience
Faithful Servant…
“Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.” – James 4:10
Another faithful servant has passed. Another long life well lived. She was gone before there was a chance for me to meet her and learn from her, something she had already done
with so many. This past Tuesday, Ms. Betsy Cranford went to be with her husband, Fred, and son Eric who awaited with open arms as Jesus stood welcoming her home.
As time passes, as the days turn to night and the new dawn awaits, with each passing moment, the more keeping time seems to matter little. The moments are filled with so many wonderful things to experience, to learn and to do. There are challenging days, some that seem so bleak and dark that it would seem the mountain had fallen down; yet, in these moments, a voice speaks telling me to hold on, that there is another blessing waiting to unfold.
God has planted the seeds that now lie germinating all around us and within.
Ms. Cranford was one of those sowers of the seed. She taught, inspired and touched so many lives while living her own. Her depths of remorse could not have been lower, in losing a son and husband, but with each loss, her witnesses saw her grow stronger.
The great blacksmith above was folding her sword, again and again, each time making it stronger; each time making it capable of holding a sharper edge.
Although Ms. Cranford was held in such high esteem in the community, she always put others before her, as Jesus had commanded, “So the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen.” She was certainly chosen by God and truly humbled herself before Him as well for she was a faithful servant, both as a teacher and in her community.
Since Friday, my world became a blur again, moving from one moment serving the Lord to the next. It wasn’t until late that evening that we received word of Mrs. Cranford’s passing. Suddenly, there was another place to visit Saturday in an already full day.
I awoke long before dawn Saturday morning, with a thought rising within my head. It was as if God speaking to me. In order to share the story of our mission at home and abroad, there needed to be a flier created, the voice said, something to hand out at the day’s coffee event. At first, I tried to dismiss it, but we all know what happens when you try to ignore the voice of God. The problem was that I had only had a couple hours to gather the information and images with which to create the paper. The more I tried to dismiss it, the louder God continued to speak until finally, I had to give in. I reached out to my missionary friends, Jeffrey, and Gloria Canada. In fact, I worked through breakfast while they were conversing with me over lunch; yes, we were on nearly opposite sides of the planet, yet we were working for one cause, serving the Lord.
A quick jaunt over to the Trail to print out the fliers and I was then off to my next destination, the Valdese Heritage Art Center to prepare for our first ever Trail of Faith Coffee Tasting. My goal was to be there before Bert Sigmon, our musician entertainer for the day, arrived. However, as I pulled up, he was already there beginning to unload. From then, until I later found myself at the funeral for Ms. Cranford, the rest of the day was one special moment after another.
In fact, the first time I was finally able to sit and rest was when I found my seat in the back of the packed sanctuary of the First Baptist Church of Drexel.
As I sat down and exhaled a long sigh of relief, satisfaction, and thankfulness, I was quickly greeted by familiar faces and handshakes.
Somehow, I knew people in a place that less than six months earlier, I would have felt like a total stranger. God is leading us each day. With each passing day, I find the more I seek him and humble myself before Him, the greater the blessings I find.
Although I never got to meet Ms. Cranford on this side of glory, I heard wonderful, compassionate stories of a woman that was a genuine Saint to all those who knew her. One speaker after another painted the picture of a caring, serving lady who was the symbol of what it is to be a true Christian. She was definitely someone you would have loved to have called a friend.
And yes, even to one who only wished he had.
God bless you Ms. Cranford and may your reunion with Fred and Eric be a special day, while you are all wrapped in the loving arms of Jesus himself.
Godspeed.
Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience
He Who Endures…Shall Be Saved…
“Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name’s sake. 10 And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another. 11 Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many. 12 And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. 13 But he who endures to the end shall be saved. 14 And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come.” – Matthew 24:11-14
I step out, no longer hiding behind the façade of a life that kept me in the shadows. Now, all will know what and who I serve. There is no shame in who I serve, nor why I do this, but there are many that will seek to destroy all we do. Today I took another step closer to the mission for which I was called. One more step toward the evangelistic journey that God continues to lead me toward. From here, I cannot see the future. From here, I cannot tell whether I will walk or crawl to the finish if I’m to ever make it. The only comfort I can find, in this walk toward a darkness that seems to grow deeper with each passing day is that I am not alone. Those of us who seek the truth do so with united purpose. If we hold on until the end, salvation awaits. What we do, we do for Him, so that all the world will know the truth; the whole truth.
This was my first night off in almost a week. The rest was welcome.
In this time repose, I was able to watch a possible distant relative, Valeria Tron, perform on videos recorded in her home country of Italy. A missionary friend had introduced us on FB knowing that we were likely related since she was from the same valley as my ancestors. She had recently awarded a very prestigious honor, none of which I could understand. So, tonight I took some much needed time to watch her perform. There is such a passion and intensity to her singing, although I cannot understand the words, her music is beautiful. I noticed she had like our Tron Family Band page, and then I wondered how he and my own family might sound someday if we were ever able to make music together. From what little I watched, it appears she sings the mournful, soulful traditional folk ballads like I would prefer, even though their rhythm is something new to me; another distant delight to find someday.
I was about to quit out of FB when I noticed our dear friend Jessica Lang had posted a new video of her picking out Salt Creek with some beta strings from D’Addairio. As I watched the talented young lady pick out the melody perfectly, adding her own breaks within the song, I couldn’t be prouder of how much she has grown musically and blossomed into a beautiful young woman.
Yes, time marches on.
Outside a cold rain falls.
It’s that time of year for the Trail where we are open until 9 pm each night thru 
Christmas. We are manning the Christmas Lights at the Trail with help from volunteers, some of which are there now allowing me the time to regroup and fulfill some of my own wishes; to write. There are times I wonder if I will ever pick up a paint brush again. Musically, I’ve been able to add a moment here and there to the schedule. In all, there is little time for the creative juices to flow. Times like these I have to hope there is a reservoir filling, saving up for when there is time to flow.
And time marches on.
The darkness envelopes the world around us as the drops of water fall from the sky, the abyss from above.
As the evening draws to a close, we prepare for tomorrow. Another day, we know not what awaits but we can prepare as we read the Word. For in this book, we can find truth when the world around us seeks to sway us away from the goal, the finish line.
We seek the finish, for, in the end, we know our salvation awaits.
For now, we must take one cherished moment whenever we find them.
Filed under Inspirational, Religion
A Life Rejoiced…
They had gathered to honor her memory, to celebrate a life well lived. Before they all returned to their homes, distant places far from the elder who remained, they decided to visit a place that would give them comfort and inspiration; possibly in order to take their minds off of their recent loss. Either way, they came to find solace and hope that their remaining parent would be blessed; after all, it was his wish for them to come.
I knew in advance of their upcoming tour. Unfortunately, our retired pastor, whom would have been a perfect match for this group, was unavailable, leaving only myself to lead them. Before they arrived, I prayed for guidance, strength and God’s will to speak through me in spite of myself; something I seem to do more often that naught. When they arrived, the man to whom needed their sympathy most, seemed to beam brightly as he led them into the visitor center. I soon found that their faith had allowed them to say goodbye to their mother, grandmother, and wife, but knowing that she would be with them in Glory allowed them to almost celebrate her final victory.
This was going to be another blessed day.
We began the introduction as we normally do, at the map. I had given them some of my personal testimony but was planning to deliver the remainder of it as we traveled further upon our journey. In the back of my mind, I wanted to share with them the story about the new ax we had received as a donation from Bill Bradshaw but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right at this point. Part of me felt as if I had already shared too much and we needed to move on. Also, I still had Ms. Regina’s message in mind about discernment, and how that we should be able to know if God wants us to do something or not, if we have matured enough in our faith; so I resolved that if it was God’s will, He would let me know if it needed to be told. We were about to walk into the movie room when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I caught the glimpse of our realtor from ProTrust Realty, Christi, standing at the door waiting to enter. Christi lives in Cary, nearly three hours’ drive away. We had been in contact via email the past week as we continue to find another way to get our farm sold. All of a sudden, she was here, out of the blue.
Another Godly moment, another chance to feel his Holy Spirit.
It was at this point that I shared with the family in my tour who Christi was and the amazing moment I was experiencing with her being here. It was then I realized, I had to share the rest of the story with them, and include the ax as Christi and her family joined our ongoing tour group.
Now, I must back up at this point and share another miracle that had transpired this week, which would become very relevant at this point.
As I wrote earlier, Bill Bradshaw had donated an ax to the Trail of Faith. Bill’s father, Dwight E. Bradshaw received the ax from an old Waldensian in Valdese, possibly a Refour family member. The head of the ax had an imprint, “Italy” stamped on it. Bill had shared with me how he had wanted to donate it to the museum, but it had just never felt right; not until he met me. Bill had taken the old head to a handle expert in the mountains nearby in order to get the old missing handle replaced. The handle luthier explained to Bill how this required a “special” handle, not one many people would know. As I held the beautiful antique in my hands, I couldn’t help feel deeply honored to accept this gift on behalf of the Trail. Later that evening, as I walked out into the dark, a street lamp lit my way and as I walked I could see the “Italy” stamp clearly marked, but the odd angle of the light also provided another engraving I had missed earlier. Carefully, I tilted the ax at different angles toward the streetlight and could make out the letters, “OURE,” with the “O” partially worn off. Instantly, the name of my ancestor’s village in the Chisone valley popped into my head, “ROURE?”
Could this ax head have been from Roure, in the Chisone valley?
How profound, if that was the case, for this ax to make into the hands of someone in Valdese who would have ties to this exact village, especially when the inhabitants of Valdese all came from the neighboring valleys! It wasn’t until later the next day that I was able to confirm, the second stamp was undoubtedly the “Roure” as I had expected, and quickly put it into our display case for safe keeping. This was another Godly moment that was going to take time to sink in.
So, as Christi joined our tour, I shared with the tour family of God’s confirmation once again. To this they replied, “as it is His will.”
I would later find out that the patriarch of the family was going to be celebrating his 90th birthday this Tuesday. He had been a missionary for 60 years, traveling the globe, serving the Lord, he and his late wife. As we stood at the foot of the path to exile, one of the exhibits on the Trail, I stood next to him and felt a special moment pass as he looked up at his family climbing the pathway to the platform overhead; his pride of bringing them all to this point, his love going onto Glory, and this beautiful day to share with is family. We stood for a moment in silence and took it all in, he and I. It was then he turned to me and said that he would be celebrating his 90th. I exclaimed to him how amazing he looked for a man of his years, his appearance being nothing more that someone in their late 60s at best. He smiled broadly, thanking me for the bad judgment of age.
We turned to join the others as they returned and continued on our journey.
It was then that it struck me. Here was a man nearing the end of his mission and me just beginning, both of us walking together at this moment, but soon we would part. Although our time together is brief, we shall walk together again someday on the other side of glory, and then, we can share the many tales of our times here on earth once more, those many missions, those lives touched.
Yes, it was just another Saturday, a day to revel in life lived and just one more to remember for eternity.
To God be the Glory!
Filed under Inspirational, Religion, Religious Experience