Tag Archives: Moses

by | May 23, 2022 · 8:31 pm

His Grace is Sufficient

by Timothy W. Tron, May, 2022

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness…”      – 2 Corinthians 12:9

The bursts of lightning struck all around the mountain last night. The bolts from the sky shook the earth with each succession of haunting light that filled the dark room. With each strike, the word “Grace” kept coming to mind. There are times like those, when the power of God’s creation is on full display, that we feel most helpless. Think about it; there is essentially nothing that can protect you from a bolt of lightning if you are out in the open without any shelter. It is then we begin to comprehend something of God’s grace. In layman’s terms, one could think of God as someone so powerful, so unthinkably magnificent, that on the one hand, he could destroy you with nothing less than the blink of an eye, while on the other hand, with the same force, he’ll protect you from all harm. In this manner, one could imagine how grace is given – not what we deserve, but what we are provided through the goodwill of another.

The other evening, walking around Bass Lake, God’s grace spoke to me. The sun was setting, and the sky was painting all manner of purple and orange hues upon the surface of the water. Up ahead of me, several deer were grazing on the new shoots of grass growing along the trail. My pace didn’t change, nor did their demeanor as I approached. It was then, standing and looking at them peacefully accepting me in their presence, that I realized they were affording me grace I didn’t deserve. Here were animals that would have already darted away if their natural instincts were allowed to rule. Yet, we stood, looking at one another as if they were my pets. How often do we receive grace but fail to pass it on? We seem to easily receive, but when it’s time to pay it forward, we make excuses – inabilities or infirmities stand in the way. As a result, the person that needed our help or support is left without because we failed to give the very thing we were afforded – grace.

An evening walk around Bass Lake, in beautiful Blowing Rock, NC. – May, 2022

Walking along the confluence of the John’s River yesterday, it was apparent that the night’s storms had brutally assaulted the highlands. The water was the color of chocolate milk, raging in frothing fits seeking to burst its confines. As my footsteps were careful to avoid the pockets of mud, my mind wandered to a comparison of my life to the water. So many times, my life had taken a turn; sometimes, it seemed for the worse, sometimes, less frequently, for the best. Many days, it all felt like my life was like the turmoil that flowed past me. Yet, along each step, along each misdirection, He was guiding me. The Apostle Paul suffered from a thorn in his side, as he put it. He had an affliction that he suffered with throughout his ministry. It had to have been unpleasant, for he asked God three times to remove it, but God’s answer was simply, “My grace is sufficient for thee.”[1] In other words, God could have taken away the ailment but chose to allow Paul to continue struggling through his life with the condition. Paul could have been angry but realized that “God’s Grace” was enough for this unmentioned thorn in his side, that he could bear it, and with that, he was satisfied. He even used it as a motivation when he said, “For my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”[2]

The word “grace” can take on all manner of connotations when thought about within the context of the Bible. One of the most important places it is used is when it says, “For it is by His grace that we are saved, and not of ourselves, that any man should boast.” We live in a fallen world. As adults, we are all guilty of sin. By God’s judgment, we are guilty and convicted of this sin, such that we deserve death. But it is by His grace that we are saved. The only condition is to believe in Him and accept Him into your life – it’s that simple.

There are times when we feel inundated with what the world puts on us. Paul wrote about such things, putting it into perspective, he said, “But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound….”[3] He realized and knew that what was in the world was no match for the power of God. When the obstacles became too great, he would lean all the more on the Lord. In these times of need, he saw again and again that God’s grace came down and allowed him to continue. From shipwrecks, imprisonment, beatings, and even death, God’s grace was more than enough to prevail.

As I pondered these things, I wondered if “Grace” was something that I really wanted to write about this month. “Surely, if it is meant to be, God will give me a sign,” I thought to myself as I continued my walk to church. It was during the special music that I received my answer. The preacher, unannounced, sat down at the piano and performed a song that I had never heard before. When he got to the chorus, it became apparent what the song was about, and I knew the confirmation was complete. “Grace to cross the river, grace to face forever, there’ll be new grace I’ve never needed before.” Yes, it was the gospel song, “New Grace,” and how it hit me.

All of grace is my story, all the way from earth to glory

Since by grace, He lifted me from sin and woe

Living grace, He has extended as on Him my heart depended

And He’ll give new grace when it’s my time to go.

There’s been grace for every trial, there’s been grace for every mile

There’s been grace sufficient from His vast supply

Grace to make my heart more tender, grace to love and pray for sinners

But there’ll be new grace when it’s my time to die.

Grace not yet discovered, grace not yet uncovered

Grace from His bountiful store

Grace to cross the river, grace to face forever

There’ll be new grace I’ve not needed before.[4]

In the Gospel of John, we are afforded the most telling description of how God’s grace is sufficient, “John bare witness of him, and cried, saying, This was he of whom I spake, He that cometh after me is preferred before me: for he was before me. And of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace. For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.”[5] Not only have we received the ultimate blessing, God’s grace, but by that grace, we are allowed more grace to enter because of it. Like the cleansing of the waterpots before Jesus turned the water into wine, we too, when we accept Christ into our lives, are like those vessels.

Allow God’s grace into your life, and find out how much richer your world will become. You’ll have the grace to cross the river, and yes, grace to face forever unlike any you’ve known before.

And as always, “Thanks be to God.”

[1] 2 Corinthians 12:9

[2] 2 Corinthians 12:10

[3] Romans 5:21 KJV

[4] Song written by Tom Hayes, 1982

[5] John 1:15-17 KJV

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by | June 27, 2021 · 7:59 pm

A Morning, A Turkey, and A Cup of Coffee – Reflections

“Does the mother turkey think about the time she spent on the nest, preparing to hatch her brood?” This morning, the thought came to me as I watched a hen and her hatchlings move through the undergrowth of the nearby forest. Sitting on the porch of the Spiritual Retreat, the memory from three years ago popped up on my social media feed. As humans, we have the capacity to look back and reflect. Sometimes, we are made aware of how far we’ve come, both physically and spiritually. But, more often than not, we are painfully reminded of how far we have to go.

As the picture revealed, the first five or so rows of cinder blocks of the building that was to become the spiritual retreat were just starting. Yet, like that building, my development into how God was to use me in the next few years of my life was just beginning. Although it was just a few rows of blocks, it was a far cry from where my family and I had started our journey. You see, when you make that choice in life to finally quit beating around the bush and choose to finally surrender all to God, it becomes a lot more complicated when you have a family. As the leader, whatever your choices are in life will eventually, if not immediately, affect the ones you love. So, when you decide to give it all in and follow Him – go wherever do whatever He says; your family is right there with you every step of the way.

So, even before the first bag of concrete was poured, before the first tree was cut down to make a place for one to find themselves closer to God, I made a vow – that this project would be for God. It was a personal commitment that each step of the way, my actions, my thoughts, everything that went into creating this building would be of God and with God.

To understand such a vow, one must realize how far we had already come. The verse, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new,”[1] had become part of the new me. Something else that I strove to maintain in the forethought as the real work began was this verse from Proverbs, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” Once God took the reins, it was as if the roller coaster ride had just begun. From moving an entire farm, moving our entire household belongings not just once, but twice, to starting an entirely new career, not once but three times in less than a year and a half – to say it was mind-boggling would be an understatement – it was numbing. Through each step, through every valley, there was always another mountain to climb. As Moses was tested through the desert, we were tempered like the steel he wanted us to become. Through it all, we found that alone we were nothing, but with God, all things were literally possible.

As first mentioned, sometimes we look back and see we are at the same place we were years ago. Although this is not always bad, it can also be disconcerting. Stuck in a proverbial rut, trying to change things on our own, we feel like we are on board the grand ship Titanic. To turn the massive vessel around before we crash headlong into the iceberg, we need more than the tiny rudder which corrects the enormous boat ever so slightly. We need more than a rudder. We need an entirely new vessel. Seeing how we can feel trapped, some give up and go on, living the life they think they have been dealt, not realizing that there is something more magnificent, if only we awaken to what God can do for us. For when we truly give it all to God, we find, not because we give it all to him to expect wealth, fame, or fortune – no, quite the opposite. For it is then, when we absolutely commit our lives to serve, it is then the real challenges begin.

It was a very difficult and painful decision to not only leave behind years of sweat and toil but also a lifetime of friends who had come to be part of our extended family. Some of my co-workers, folks that I had known from my beginning at the company to which I had devoted my life’s work, must have wondered if I had finally cracked under the stress of the job? Others must have thought that I had lost my mind. If only they knew. In a sense, it was true. I had been changed. My natural mind was replaced with one mindful of the Lord and how it was to fully give it all to Him – every-thing, yes all!

Some of those friends and neighbors who had known us for years had to wonder in amazement as they saw us leave behind the farm we had carved out of the forest. We literally began a dream from scratch. It was not easy. There were the multitude of memories created; watching my son catch his first fish, seeing my daughter ride her pony at full speed up the road, to those quiet evenings rocking together in the front porch swing. Yes, like that mother turkey with her brood following closely behind, when we are family, we don’t just do anything alone. To make a life change to serve God requires more than your own trust in the Lord, it requires the whole family to follow.

With eyes open, we can see anew. We are changed, and the focus in our lives shifts to not just of things of this world, but the preparation for life eternal through the gift of life given to us because of God’s only Son. When we realize that what time we have left here on this earth has a purpose, if only we awaken to that task. It is then, when we come to the realization we are God’s creation, here to honor and serve Him in everything we do – it is then that the perspective of life changes.

So as the trees were hauled to the sawmill to be cut up to be used in the building, as the dirt was moved to pour the footings, it was quite literally as if God was there watching and helping each step of the way. The tiny abode in the woods next to my home where one could go and commune with God was to become a place where anyone could come and be alone with the Lord. Being separate, in silence, and surrounded by God’s creation – makes a difference. Jesus often retreated into the wilderness, himself alone, to find solitude from the crowds where he could spend time alone with his Father.

So, here I sit this morning, a nice cup of coffee in hand, the stillness of the forest all around me as the mother turkey takes her brood deeper into the safety of the deep woods. She may not think of her past, but I’m thankful that God has allowed me to look back and give thanks for all that he has done and is doing in my life. Although there are miles to go, a never-ending attempt to find Sanctification, there is the comfort in knowing that He is with us each step of the way. It is up to us to ask, seek, and ye shall find, as the verse tells us.

Friend, take a moment and look back in your life and see if where you are, today is where you really want to be? Is this where God is leading you, or have you given up? It is never too late to seek Him. But, once you make that choice, be prepared for your world to change in ways you would never have imagined. It’s the most extraordinary journey of all.

Thanks be to God.

[1] 2 Corinthians 5:17 KJV

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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 | August 12, 2018 · 9:29 pm

God’s Scaffolding

“ And your children shall wander in the wilderness forty years, and bear your whoredoms, until your carcases be wasted in the wilderness.34 After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even forty days, each day for a year, shall ye bear your iniquities, even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of promise.35 I the Lord have said, I will surely do it unto all this evil congregation, that are gathered together against me: in this wilderness they shall be consumed, and there they shall die.” – Numbers 14:33-35

There I stood in the construction site of my Spiritual Retreat, looking up at the single 2×4 which was to support the ridge board, the peak of the building. Above, the canopy opened to the blue sky above. Around me lay the work of many days toil. The pinnacle of the job was about to be reached. An eagerness to push on no matter the consequence burned within; yet, something whispered in my ear to wait. In my younger years, I might have ignored that voice, but now, in these later years, I’ve learned to listen when He speaks.

Stepping back, I reluctantly looked from one end of the ridge board to the other; a mere fourteen feet. Yet, there was not another soul to help me on this day. There was no one that could lift the other end of the board to hold it in place while we sandwiched it between the two opposing rafters. Could there be some sort of makeshift rigging that would hold it? Could I manage to strap it to the overhanging suspension cable that I had used to lift the walls in place? All of these questions began to flood my thoughts as if something else were trying to drown out God’s reasoning. Before any decision could be made, I climbed back down to the ground floor and sat down to rest and ponder.

Another story from another time began to drift across my countenance.

Before the children of Israel would cross the Jordan into the promised land, they sent twelve spies across to survey and bring back a report, knowing that the promised land was already inhabited. Of the twelve that were sent, ten of them that returned told of peoples so massive in number and size that it would be impossible for them to defeat them. Two had a different story to tell, Caleb and Joshua. They shared the fruits of that promised land and the benefits God had waiting for them if they would only believe and have faith that He was with them. This only angered the people to the point they sought to stone those bearing the good news. God was provoked to the point that he wanted to kill them all, but Aaron and Moses pleaded with him, asking for mercy. In the end, they would be sent back into the wilderness to wander for forty years, one year for each day that they had searched the promised land.

They had been so close, but because of their unbelief in God’s power and ability to protect them, they were sent away where “in this wilderness, they shall be consumed.”  Had they listened to all that God had done for them, had they realized what they accomplished up to that point was all because of Him, they would have succeeded. Instead, they listened to their earthly hearts, spurning God and in the end, dying before reaching what was so close.

Looking at the sheer height of the peak of the Spiritual Retreat, a mere seventeen feet above the floor, I knew that to continue might be more than a simple structural failure; I could easily be seriously injured, or worse, killed. Thinking about what the story of the Israelites was telling me, it was obvious that I needed to regroup and think about what had got me this far. Preparation for reaching to the peak of the roof was necessary, and it was not just going to be a couple pieces of wood. No, the majority of the floor joists for the loft and second-floor storage would be required. Sweat ran down my face as I sat drinking another bottle of water, realizing that to succeed, the proper planning and groundwork would be necessary; otherwise, a failure that could be more than a few splintered pieces of lumber could result. I did not want to become one that would wander in the desert for another forty years, or similarly, find myself unable to continue because of a severe injury.

As I worked to begin building the necessary scaffolding, God began teaching me another lesson; one of how he is preparing me for the mission field.

Often, in our earnest to serve Him, once that light has been turned on in our hearts, we eagerly seek to find a mission with which to serve. Some rush to those places of need so dire that even a box of candy and an article of clothing bring people running toward you. Now, don’t get me wrong because all missions are serving God’s purpose in some way. It is the essence of what it means to serve as in the great commission that Jesus commanded that is and should be, at the heart of these journeys. Sadly, they (the feel-good missions I call them) are often misunderstood, and in many cases, ill-prepared participants are sent out into a place that they can little effect, nor change with a box of candy and an article of clothing. These organized church teams that travel to third world countries are bringing momentary hope, but once they leave and jump back onto their planes, returning to their upscale homes and lives, they leave behind utter despair and agony for those who met them with smiling faces and open arms. Their speaking of God’s plan and hope diminishes as their shadows fade into the horizon. To truly serve those lost people in places so ravished with hunger and disease, we must bring to them as Jesus did the woman at the well, the water that needs to bucket, the gift of life that springs forth from a source that will never run dry; Jesus Christ. We must be prepared to know the Word of God to the point we are capable of bringing others to Christ in our own community first, even before going to other lands as strangers to speak through interpreters.

We must prepare our scaffolding well so that we do not fail.

As I watch friends and fellow believers go out into the mission fields, I watch them as they grow and prepare. Men like Chance Walters, Tim Cunnup, Jeffrey Canada, Will Graham, Marty Jacumin, Ted Alexander, and many more, all learning and growing in Christ, each serving the world in their individual ministries. Each of them began at home in planning the groundwork for their mission fields. Each found a place to which they were called, and each leads a life of reaching toward returning. Each of these men and many more bring salvation and hope to a world in which there is often little.

As I painfully, and slowly lifted each scaffolding board into place, it was with great elation as I finally nailed the first pair of rafters in place a full day later. It was then that the culmination of the joy of serving Him this past summer had reached its zenith. The Spiritual Retreat will become the headquarters of my own mission. From this point forward, from this little building nestled in a holler in the woods, God will use me, his vessel, to reach those near and far away lands. And if it be His will, I hope to reach those lost souls that are seeking something beyond what they are capable of reaching on their own; the gift of salvation through God’s only Son, Jesus Christ.

God has a plan for each of us. When we do his will, we serve a greater good than our own. My prayer is that for each of you to seek Him, to find Him, and when you do, that you listen to that still small voice, for it has much to say. Don’t sit still once he has opened your mind and heart to his understanding, but before ye go forth to share the good news, prepare for the journey. Yes, prepare and plan as if your life depended upon it; for those who you seek to reach, their eternal life will depend upon you.

Thanks be to God.

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by | July 8, 2018 · 8:17 pm

Water Divining: A Good Dousing…

The first time I ever heard of “Water Divining” was at my paternal grandparents’ house in New Harmony, Indiana, many years ago as a child. Actually, the name “Divine” wasn’t mentioned, not that I recall; the learning of that terminology would come later. I don’t remember how it got started or who all was present, except for maybe my cousin Peggy Sue, but when my grandmother called out to the yard full of grandkids, “Who wants to learn how to Witch for water,” she had our undivided attention?

From her vantage point, seated on the weather-worn front porch in the faded white porch swing gently rocking to and fro, she often gave directions or enlightenment to us grandchildren. Her motion in the swing was barely noticeable, so much that, when you sat with her you needn’t bother trying to push. Her motion was so soft that any intrusion into the fluidness was a disruption of serenity.  After we gathered at the corner of the porch under the shade of the majestic Sycamore tree for further instruction, there was the first flurry of questions.

“What is “Witching” for water mean, Grandma,” one of my other cousins would ask?

“Are we gonna turn into witches,” quipped another?

“It means to find water,” grandma calmly replied.

“Like in the kitchen sink,” said another.

“No, like under the ground,” she responded, not cracking a smile.

“Does that mean we have to dig,” said another somewhat elated that we would be allowed to dig a hole in the yard?

“No, there won’t be any digging needed.”

Our fledgling minds were at a standstill. How were we going to find water under the earth if we couldn’t dig? We didn’t have X-ray vision like Superman; or did we?

Before we could drift too far, she began.

First, she told us to go and fetch a branch from the Weeping Willow tree that was in the right corner of the front yard. “Get a branch with a fork in it,” she called to as we raced off to the tree.

It wasn’t one of our climbing favorites, not like the Golden Raintree, but it was fun to run beneath and let the flowing branches tickle your ears as you ran through the curtain of foliage. Looking back, it was as if God was tickling our ears, not the itching of ears that we would seek later in life.

We grabbed as much of a low hanging limb as possible, breaking off a piece and then racing back to grandma for further instructions. As I recall, my stick didn’t have a fork. Her initial detail hadn’t registered in my young mind since the only fork of which I was familiar was from the dinner table. So, after grandma held up to fingers in the sign of a “V,” at which point she said, “with a “V” in it, like Victory in Jesus.” At which point, she began whistling, as she so often did, the sweet refrain while we rushed back to the tree for another try.

When we had all finally gathered green willow sticks with V’s in them, we regrouped back at the porch. Not looking at us as she continued rocking, snapping green beans, she continued our education, “Ok, now take a side of each fork, one in each hand.” Looking at one another as we struggled to grasp the concept, we all finally managed to grab our makeshift fork by its two prongs. Then she looked up from beneath her horn-rimmed glasses and checked for our understanding. “No, not quite,” she said looking at the studious group. “Peg, come here and let me show you.” She took Peg’s branch and grabbed the fork with her hands facing up, then twisted her wrists inward until her hands were then facing down. Meanwhile, the stick had now gone through some sort of torque because the base of the “Y” was now our pointer but oddly tilted upward.

“See how I did it,” she asked?

After a couple of corrections and reproofs, we all seemed ready.

“Now what,” Peg said?

“Now you start walking around until the end of your stick starts to pull downward.”

“Really,” we all shouted?

“Truly,” she answered, and went back to snapping and whistling.

We began running around the yard like a wild bunch of spring heifers turned into a new meadow, our sticks bouncing up and down like yo-yos.

“Hold on,” came the call from the porch. “You need to walk slowly. How else are you going to feel the pull?”

From that point forward, it was as if we were trying to make magic.

We walked, crisscrossing the yard to-and-fro, but nothing. Occasionally someone might think they had a bite on their line as if fishing for water, but mostly nothing. Some cousins gave up and went back to what they had been doing before the lesson, but those of us who were older knew that if grandma had told us we could find water with a stick, then it must be true; so, we kept on. Feeling as if I might have better luck in the backyard, I slowly edged my way past the front porch and was about to turn past the corner of the house when all of a sudden I felt it.

The stick moved in my hand. It was as if someone had grabbed the other end and pulled it downward and to the left. At first, it scared me so much I gave a shout, “Hey, it’s working!” The others came running. Backing up a few feet, I again moved in the same direction, and as I did, we all watched, myself included, as the end of my branch twisted in my hands and pulled downward toward the corner of the house, like a fish pulling one’s line on a fishing pole.

“WOW, it’s amazing,” they all exclaimed as everyone tried their own sticks once more. Sadly, as the others tried, none of them could make their sticks work quite like mine. Amazed at this new discovery, we regrouped back to grandma who all the while had kept slowly working on her pile of beans and had just finished as had we.

“Did you see that grandma, Timmy got his to work?”

“Yes, I did, she smiled looking down at us from her motherly perch.”

“Is he a witch,” asked another cousin?

“No,” she chuckled in reply.

“Is it magic grandma,” I asked?

“Some may think so my son, but I believe it is a gift from God.”

They all looked at me in awe. Suddenly a strange feeling washed over me like I was weird or something. Before the others could react, grandma cut in, “I expected as much since your father could do this as well.”

“Why can’t we do it too,” called another cousin?

“There are a lot of reasons. Perhaps you weren’t holding your stick correctly, or perhaps your limb wasn’t green enough. There are a lot of reasons why. But mostly, not everyone is blessed, or gifted in the same manner,” she answered. “Each of you will find your own talents or gifts in life. Timothy Wayne has just found one of his.”

Then she continued, directing her attention back to me, “As long as you live, you may use this gift to help others. Because it is a special gift from God, you should never make anyone pay you to find water for them. If you begin charging people for this gift, then it will become a curse. Do you understand?”

I shook my head yes.

Her words lingered in my memory ever since.

Years later, I would use the gift only a handful of times, never charging for fear of misusing the talent. One of the most memorable was when a friend of mine in Chatham County, Gary Hart, asked me to douse his well. He was building a new home in what used to be his father’s cow pasture. Finding a Dogwood tree with the proper size forked branch, I grabbed it as grandma had taught us so many years before and began to crisscross his land. Not long into my search the stick was nearly ripped out of my hand sideways. I retreated, somewhat startled at the strength of the pull, then began again, heading straight toward the spot. This time the limb was pulled out of my hands as I passed over the location. Gary, still somewhat skeptical, looked on. At my encouragement, I had him try. He too had the stick move and was suddenly a believer. He had his well put in at that spot and had over 75 gallons per minute.

As stated earlier, I never put a lot of stock in the ability other than it came in handy at times. However, the Bible warns us of such abilities. Many times, dousing is mentioned as a gateway into the demonic word, since only a spirit can control the divining rod, as some people claim. When we allow the spirits of the earth to come into our being, we are welcoming in Satan. As the book of Hosea reads, “My people consult a wooden idol, and a diviner’s rod speaks to them. A spirit of prostitution leads them astray; they are unfaithful to their God.”-Hosea 4:12

Then there are the many listings of the word “divination,” which more relevantly refer to things divine in nature, or the act of being prophetic. Regardless, whatever acts we perform, be they supernatural or not, we should be mindful of the power that is working in us and be careful not to follow the temptation to profit from them, lest we fall under the order or prostitution or whoredom, as mentioned in Hosea. To prevent ourselves from being lured into the demonic world, we should always pray that we only be filled with the Holy Spirit and face whatever gifts we have been given with this in mind. In other words, use that with which we have been endowed to serve God.

On a more positive note, there are times when we see magnificent displays of God at work concerning the rod and water, like in Exodus, “The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6 I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.”-Exodus 17:5-6

When we fill ourselves with the Holy Spirit and walk in the Lord, we have nothing to fear. For as we live, we walk in His way. As the 23rd Psalm tells us, “He prepareth a table before me in the presence of mine enemies, my cup runneth over.” When we overflow with the Holy Spirit within us, there is no room for evil; and thus, using a rod to find water will no more hurt us than using a bowling ball to knock down pins.

Whatever you prefer to call it, dousing, divining, or witching, my thoughts will always go back to that innocent time of my life when we learned our life lessons from that battered old front porch on the edge of town. Grandma’s lessons were Christ-centered, and for that, I will always be grateful. I know in my heart, somewhere under the shade of a majestic Sycamore tree, just on the edge of heaven, the old porch swing creaks as she rocks back and forth, waiting; waiting for us to enter in.

Thanks be to God.

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by | April 15, 2017 · 5:58 pm

The Last Piece of Bread…

“30 Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-Luke 24:30

Sometimes we find ourselves rushing through this world, missing the blessings that exist before our very eyes. Then sometimes, we are lucky enough to catch that glimpse of something that appears to us which we seemingly cannot believe.

This past Thursday evening, I had just finished a day of testing my students in the last unit before Spring Break. The next day at school would be filled with fun activities that required very little in preparation. Outside the window, the sunshine and blue skies had beckoned all the day long. When my car finally pulled into our driveway, and I opened the door, the fresh air and sound of the woods enveloped me. There was something calling me. So as quickly as I could eat a bite, I found my walking stick, hat, and hiking shoes and set out the back door into the forest beyond.

My anticipation quickened my heartbeat matching those of my footsteps below.

When Mary reported back to the disciples that she had seen something at the tomb, Peter and John rushed out the door, their hearts beating nearly out of their chests. Their minds were ablaze with the impossibility; was He truly alive? Could Mary have been seeing things? Her fervent testimony left no doubt, so they ran onward. Their anticipation drove them faster. As they raced, memories of His teaching drifted back into their consciousness.

As my footsteps traveled along the cool, shadowed pathway, my mind wandered back to the previous week where a walk like this was a strain. I had been fighting a serious head cold, and it was nearly all I could do then to walk the new trail my friend Leroy wanted to show me. It was a wonderful walk along a continual waterfall that ran parallel to us. Opposite to the stream was a grove of Poplar trees. As we walked along, I couldn’t help trying to spy to see if there were any morels along the way. The undergrowth on the forest floor was nearly non-existent, which meant there was little hope of finding any of the precious little mushrooms during that day. From my experience hunting the elusive forest food, I knew that the lack of greenery usually meant it was too early I the season. Usually, they only grow in certain soils in particular weather just about this time each year. In other words, they are difficult to find.

Here I was a week later with the sun slowly setting. Time was running out. I hesitantly put the hopes of finding any morels this season to rest. It was more likely that it would be another year before we might be lucky enough to find them in the new area we call home; that’s just the way it would be.

John literally outran Peter, reaching the edge of the tomb. As he leaned against the round boulder that had the previous day covered the entrance to the crypt, he could smell the dampness of the inner chamber. His legs quivered with fear and excitement. “Was his Savior inside?” There was something that kept him from entering. Around the bend, he could hear the footsteps of Peter coming, yet he could not move. Was it fearing to find the brutally ravaged body of Christ that he dreaded to see once more? Was it the fear of a spirit he hastened to witness? It wasn’t until Peter rounded that curve and came into sight did his courage return.

Like so many of us that go into the world today to witness for Him, we fearfully stand outside the realm of those who need our words the most. We fall short of speaking to others the very thing they need most, the Truth. We cannot go it alone.

Onward I pushed, happy to be out in the sunshine and finally feeling more like myself. As I walked, I began lifting up prayers to God. Before long, I was being filled with his Holy Spirit. He was filling my mind with a multitude of things of which I couldn’t keep track. My cup was surely overflowing.

As the two disciples walked along the road to Emmaus, they were met with a stranger who joined them. They began speaking with him, and he opened their minds to all the scriptures. Even so doing, they did not realize it was Christ who was with them. They reached a point where they were to part with this new-found friend. Yet, so moved were they by his testimony that they kept him as the scriptures described, “But they constrained Him, saying, “Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.” And He went in to stay with them.”

Just as their minds were overflowing with the words of Jesus, they had yet to fully realize the implications of what they were experiencing.

As my feet trod, one in front of the other, I was nearly singing His praises when I rounded the bend and began an uphill trek. Raindrops started to fall. There had been mention of a possible shower, but not today. I looked toward the distant mountain tops and saw scattered dark clouds. I hastened my footsteps yet again. As my focused changed from spirituality to the now, I realized the darkness growing about me.

Another turn, another bend, and then suddenly, there it was.

As those travelers on the road to Emmaus sat around the table with Jesus, talking and sharing, they still didn’t realize what was before them until their focus was brought to the “Here and Now,” when Jesus broke the bread. Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-

Once the bread was broken, their bodies, predictably hungry from their days walk, pushed aside for the moment, their amazement of what that had heard and spoke about during their miraculous journey. It was then, they suddenly realized in whose presence they were, and had been for the majority of their day.

There, in the middle of the rocky trail, barely covered by any soil, stood a single morel.

I shouted out loud, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS!”

Those seated around the table that evening, when he broke the bread and blessed it, were about to witness the unbelievable. When He handed each of them their own piece of bread, their eyes were opened as had their minds been earlier in the day. It was then they realized who He was, and in that instant, He vanished before their eyes.

Did they shout, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS?”

Did they pause as they held the very bread of which Christ had handed them?

There before me was something that grew in such a rare occurrence, it could be said to be Heaven sent. No, it was not Christ, and no, it was not something miraculous, but it was a blessing so unexpected, it took my breath away.

I hesitated before bending down to pick up the precious morsel, then looked to Heavens. The rain had paused, and a shaft of sunlight shone down through the canopy above. “Thank you, Lord, for this blessing,” I whispered out loud.  I know in my heart that at that very moment those disciples too felt the urge to call out to God and thank Him for His Son.

We are all so very blessed.

One can only imagine that moment, that very minute when those disciples were handed that piece of food, and then to have Him seated before them.

Manna was sent from God to keep His children alive as they wandered those long years through the desert. That manna became their bread of life. Jesus died for our sins, so that we may have eternal life. He became our bread of life so that we may have eternal life, if only we accept Him into our hearts. We confess with our mouths our sins we believe with our hearts. When we consume the bread of life, we are taking that which is perishable which represents that which is not, Christ.

A morel, in a way, is like manna from Heaven. It is something that we might eat, sustaining our bodies while allowing us to give thanks to Him for providing something that is so uniquely special, it can only be a gift from God.

One morel, one last piece of bread from the hand of God, each one a blessing to those who receive.

This Easter, let us be thankful for a God, who gave His Only Son so that we might have salvation and eternal life. We need only recognize Him, and accept Him into our hearts when we confess our sins.

Blessed be Thy Name,

Thanks Be to God.

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