Tag Archives: prayer

by | November 15, 2016 · 9:33 pm

The Lamp of the Body…

img_20160229_185127“The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light.” – Matthew 6:22

The laser lowered closer to the eye, all the while, the doctor reassuring his patient everything was going well. “You’re doing great,” he calmly spoke in a second thought sort of tone, obviously focusing on the surgery at hand. Closer the beam of the green light came until there was contact, a brilliant light, and then complete, utter darkness.

Nothing but black, coal, nothingness.

In that moment of doubt, a world of questions flowed through that portal into the unknown abyss. Patterns danced about as my mind raced to understand how and why. It was as if the light in my soul had been extinguished, so permeating was the blackness before me. Streams of energy passed through the channel as I silently prayed. Scenes of childhood, patterns of imagery, and all manner of beautiful images played out before me as the void enveloped everything.

I prayed for calmness and the steady hand of the surgeon to do his work.

Then it was done.

The light re-emerged, fractured and confused.

“Close your eyes now and rest,” were the next words the doctor spoke. “We’re all done. You did great.”

“Amen,” I whispered.

For months, my right eye had nearly been blind, except for the blur of figures that I could discern through its milky covering. The vision was like looking through waxed paper. Driving in the dark was the hardest, as glare would blanket my eyesight, often causing me to whence with pain. The cataract had grown quickly; too quickly. Our previous Market Place Insurance premium was so high there was no way we could have afforded the surgery. In fact, that was why we had waited as long as we did; we just couldn’t afford it. But Jesus told us, “Ask and you shall receive, knock, and the door will be opened.” So I prayed, again and again.

Our prayers are often answered, but never in the manner in which he had imagined.

From one door closing to the next one opening, there was no thought as to where it would all end. The only guiding principal was that the Lord was leading us, and where He willed us, we would follow. Never understanding, even now, as to why He was leading us where He did, we kept following. Eventually, that next door found us in a place where the medical benefits would finally pay enough to allow us to afford the eye surgery.

Another prayer answered.

After weeks of waiting, preparation and scheduling, the day had come. After what seemed a lifetime, my surgery was complete. The worse of the two eyes was now repaired. There would be no immediate satisfaction. Knowing just how good the changes were would have to wait until the next day when the swelling and incision had time to heal. There was no lingering pain or side effects, only the question was, “How big a change would I experience?”

Exhausted and spent, I went to bed early that night. Although I was wearing an eye shield, sleep came easily and soundly.

The next morning, gray shades of the dawn began to creep into our bedroom. Unthinking, I arose from bed and dressed, making my way to the bathroom. I had forgotten to pick up my glasses. As I neared the light, something twinkled in my eye. I started to go back to retrieve my glasses to see better but stopped. There was something clearer that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Nearing the nightlight, I looked and could see bursts of clarity that took my breath. Suddenly, I felt like a child on Christmas morning, rising before the dawn to find the presents under the tree. My heart raced as I neared the mirror, slowly peeking at the shield. Underneath, my eye blinked and cleared away the sleep. I stared in disbelief at myself, looking through gauze and plastic, at a much clearer picture than before. Careful, according to the doctor’s orders, I removed the shield, inserted the prescribed drops and timidly made my way to the kitchen. Outside, the sunlight was just beginning to warm the treetops in the forest behind our home. The brilliant glow sparkled like a thousand stars. Up above, the sky formed a brilliant blue that seemed to leap from the air into my soul.

I pushed the button to start the coffee brewing then stepped into my house slippers and opened the front door. Like a newborn walking for the first time, I slowly stepped out into the vibrant world of colors that I had nearly forgotten. Everywhere I looked, things sparkled and shone like ripples on the surface of the water. There was no comparison. It was as if my eye was as clear and crisp as the morning air. Emotion began to overwhelm me when I thought about how we had come to this place and that now, God had once more answered prayer.

Again, and again, the impossible had been made possible.

Tears welled up in both my eyes and I looked toward the heavens. There up above, the most beautiful full moon still shone, in glorious detail. The light from within had once more found the light from without, and the two were one once more.

“Thanks be to God,” I breathed out loud, my breath emitting a fog in the frigid dawn, taking on a shimmering orange glow from the coming sunrise.

As I looked skyward, it was as if God filled my cup to overflowing, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

There is no more greater gift than that of sight. For we were once blind, but now we see, that when we receive His glory, we can have eternal life.

If only we see.

Yes, the eye is the lamp of the body, and through it, we may seek Him. For to receive Christ into our lives, is to receive the light, and through the lamp, so doth the light flow.

Prayers were lifted, prayers were answered, and once more, the Glory of God shines for all to see.

Thanks be to God!

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by | June 2, 2016 · 9:11 pm

The Dark Road We Travel…

“Who among you fears the Lord? Who obeys the voice of His Servant? Who walks in darkness And has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord And rely upon his God.” – Isaiah 50:10

 

The dark clouds loomed over the mountain as I turned onto the back road, taking the one less traveled. As I made the sharp right turn, I could see the storm brewing ahead. The map had indicated a quicker route to my destination, well below the highlands, so I knew in advance that there would be many twists and turns. Initially, it was nothing more than an overcast scenic drive until rain began to fall lightly. As my little car and I traversed farther and deeper down into the depths of the valley, the light above continued to fade until it was nearly night. To add to the deprivation, rain began to fall harder. I crossed over an ancient bridge and then it was as if I had passed through a time warp. The pavement gave way to a dirt road that was quickly turning into a muddy slush. It was then I noticed that the world around me seemed to slow to a crawl. Instinctively I began to look for signs of life, something to show me that my sense of time warp was only that; just a feeling.darkroad

Suddenly, the darkness became more prevalent and thoughts of horrible movies depicting people of this region as monsters began to surface in my head.

“No, don’t give in,” I told myself as the path ahead began to grow more tortuous, “Trust in God.” The water was now falling in torrents from the sky, and my wipers were doing all they could to splash a path on my windshield big enough for me to catch glimpses of the deteriorating roadway ahead.

The creek that ran alongside the roadbed was swollen and in places, massive rocks stood protruding out from the wall of the mountain. Dark, sullen trees towered above the walls of boulders, all blanketing the road like a tunnel. For a split second, I looked down at my phone, and it was literally dead, no connection, nothing. “If something were to happen to you, it might be weeks before they would ever find your body,” said the voice in my head as I watched a dilapidated shack pass as my little vehicle and I continued on

“Darkness and death surround you. Surely this is the psalmist wrote about,” I mused inwardly.

Around another couple turns it looked as if my sense of time change had been correct. The house that abruptly appeared around the bend seemed to confirm that I had gone back in time several centuries. Its outer shell was weathered, barely clinging to the shards of paint that had one time made it look new; a time long, long ago. Vines and weeds nearly obscured the base of the home from sight making it seem as if it floated in space and time. I carefully made the hairpin turn around the old house and then I noticed her watching. Up in the gable end of the weathered abode was an open window. The rain had abated enough to be able to see the ghostly figure of a person sitting and watching through the thin, threadbare curtain that danced in the breeze. From the whisper of the image of the old woman that sat in the darkness watching me pass I could only imagine the stories that lay hidden; the life left untold. If one were to stop, would they be accepted? If one were to stop, would they ever emerge back into the real world or would they become one with this isolated people? If one were to stop, would their body ever be found? Again and again, darkness kept trying to pull me down, but I fought on.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort me.”

darkhomeAlthough the old house was covered with wooden siding, it caused me think of those stone houses in the pictures of the Cottien Alps. “This could just as easily have been like the valleys from where my ancestors came,” was the next thought. There were places there, like here, where stone structures were tucked back in places where no human would be expected to live, yet there they existed, even today. From there it wasn’t too hard to imagine how those French and Savoy troops marching up into those dark, foreboding valleys to persecute the Waldensians might have felt when they reached gorges and passes deeper and darker than this. The fear that must have run through their minds would have been compounded by the forces who awaited them. God had knowingly put a people in a place where they would be protected. Yet, there I was in the safety of my car but could still sense a hint of fear. How much better would the early settlers of this region of North Carolina and those invaders of the Waldensian valleys, have felt when facing unfriendly natives? Although outnumbered, both those indigenous Alpine mountain people of old and those native Americans would have known their land like the back of their hand granting them a certain advantage. Switchback after switchback, the images only became more and more primitive. It felt as if any moment, I would make one last turn and my headlights would find a solitary figure standing in the middle of the road, waiting for me.

The pathway soon opened up, and I came to a “T” in the road. There was no sign, no GPS, only my memory of the map I had seen earlier. As I paused thinking of which way to turn, my mind again reflected on all the tasks that I had unsettled earlier in the morning before leaving for this trip. There was no way for anyone to get hold of me so if there were a question that needed to be answered, it would have to wait. The whirlwind of duties, tasks, and to-do lists came to a screeching halt.

As the wiper kept time, back and forth, I quietly sat in the car at the empty intersection somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains. There was no one coming from behind, no cars passing before me; I was alone in the wilderness. The scriptures tell us when we seek Him, we will find Him, and He will listen. So, as the rain poured down, the rivulets of water washed beneath the tires, I bowed my head and prayed to God.

The raindrops on the rooftop made a calming pitter-patter as my thoughts went to the Lord.

There were so many that needed healing, so many that needed comfort in their hour of loss, and all those things that I had left undone. “God will take care of it all in His time,” I told myself. My prayers were lifted up to Him. Yes, I turned to Him in prayer, seeking Him and found Him and He listened.

I finally closed with an Amen and began to drive off in the direction that felt right, the path that He said to take.

So I listened and obeyed. I vowed to trust in the Lord and to let Him work out all the details.

“He’s delaying you on purpose,” I told myself, “slowly, surely, and certainly in His time, it will shall be done.”

As I finally reached a semblance of civilization farther down the mountain, the phone began to reconnect to its communication signals and a flood of updates arrived. One of the updates was about an unsettled problem that I had left undone, the one that I had left it up to God to work out; it had actually been resolved due to a cancellation which allowed my request to be entered. It needed a miracle to happen. In Godly fashion, He prevailed once more.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of our lives and hopefully, yes, hopefully if we listen and choose correctly, someday we shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Thanks be to God

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by | February 29, 2016 · 8:44 pm

God is There; If Only We Would Pray…

When the impossible becomes possible, God is there.

Today I was reminded of how much in our daily lives we mistakingly take for granted. I don’t mean just the sensual things of this world, but rather, the big picture; the Godly vision. As I sat in fellowship with Pastor Patrick, we shared prayer experiences and how each had manifested into miraculous changes in not only our lives, but so many of those around us; all because of our prayers.

Last night as we watched the movie, “War Room,” the thoughts of past prayers came rushing back. Looking back, there was no possibility of knowing how they would be answered. All I knew was that for the request I had sent to God to be answered, there was nothing short of a miracle necessary. In Godly fashion, from that day forward, like the inching of the massive glaciers, God’s answer began to unfold.

Earth moving in gargantuan proportions with incremental precision, pieces of a complex puzzle turning, realigning themselves nano-particle by nano-particle, God’s hand was working the wonders beyond our human comprehensions.20160228_160511~2

As we sat on top of Table Rock Mountain yesterday, we could see as far as the eye could travel so clear was the air, pure and crisp. Beneath us, massive boulders shaped by eons of time and forces so great their scars are forever etched upon their faces lay cold and dormant. There in that place of heavenly fortitude, one could reflect on an ancient time meeting our own, the two worlds silently colliding; our own limited terrestrial existence compared to that of the earth from whence we came; “For dust you are, And to dust you shall return.” To the creator of this earth, this seemingly endless creation, we lift our voices often as cries of help, desperate pleas from a desperate people. For us to lift up our request and to expect immediate results are so naïve, it almost mirrors our unbelief in the impossible. Through Him, all things become possible. “But Jesus looked at them and said to them, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”-Matthew 19:26

20160228_155305~2So it is when we pray, that if it’s God’s will, even the most minute detail begins to alter. A multitude of lives, relationships, hardships and even mammoth corporations are not immune. Not even granite stone can withstand the touch of his hand. I’ve seen instances of complex variables so unrelated, so remotely disconnected become affected by a single thread of prayer that there was no mistaking the source, the divine nature of the alteration.

The truly amazing part, the one that keeps you sitting on the edge of your seat, is the fact that it’s not over.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.”-Revelation 3:20

With each new prayer, with each new request or thanks to God, another door is opened, another heart is touched and even better, another soul is saved.

Yes, the more prayer warriors we enlist, the more those dynamic unrelated events begin to combine and become one, one faith, one 20160228_154502~2vision, one God. Slowly, ever so slowly, God is calling His people home and the darkness has everything to fear.

In all that we do, let us not to give thanks to our Creator for all that He has done in our lives. As we thank Him, may we also not fear to knock on the door, for if we do, then it shall be opened and we will be able to dine with the master, and He with us.

Are you ready to ready to dine with the master?

 

 

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by | February 22, 2016 · 9:08 pm

Can You Feel It?…

“But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” -Acts 1:8

We awoke to a cold, gray, overcast sky. In the past, this would be another dreary Monday morning, one that felt so low, you dared notimagesS4F3AIJ4 sing the blues, but rather curse them. Days so bleak it felt as if time was passing through your veins like bitter sarcasm, you life was anything but hopeful. In those times past, I lived only for the sake of others, their livelihood, not my own. Yes, there were bright moments, blessings that I cherished through the pain. Yet, as I reached those segments of enlightenment, the valley floors came crashing, deeper and deeper. Then slowly the realization of a life not lived became a reality. Each morning as I drove home I would lose consciousness behind the wheel, each morning I knew the end was near unless something changed.

God had called me years earlier and in my stubbornness and regret, I had said no. How much more could I take? How much longer would I refuse Him?

Finally, at the end of my rope, I lifted up a prayer previously I would have felt to be selfish, but when you reach that lowest arc of the pendulum’s swing, you must act.

So I prayed as Pastor Thomas had said, “Know that your prayer will be answered if it’s God’s will, don’t be afraid to ask.”

So I did.

My life changed almost instantly.

There are those times when you can feel it, really feel it. Then there are days, those times in the lull of battle, you begin to wonder in self-doubt allowing Satan to sneak in the back door. But through the midst of struggle, there is always the light shining through the fog; the Holy Spirit leading.

Yes, today I awoke to a cold, gray, overcast sky. On the surface, it felt like another lifeless Monday, but instead of a week of dread and malcontent awaiting me at work, there was love and fellowship through God’s grace just around the corner. As I pulled into the drive of the Trail, the front gate was already open and brother Mahorney was ready and waiting for me. My heart had already begun to smile. Soon to follow were our visitors for the day, Pastor Rick Mercer and his lovely wife Cindy along with their special guest, and author, Mr. Hammer.

There would a time constraint placed on us due to Mr. Hammer having to meet his flight, but I never once felt quickened by the clock. There was a special peace floating over us. Something indescribable.untitled

Before starting upon the journey through the Trail we prayed and it was then I felt it, the Holy Spirit. However, like times before, when it would happen once and be gone. This morning was not a typical Monday morning.

Again and again, He was there unlike any time before.

Each time we gathered to pray, each time we lifted up His holy name, He was there.

Words cannot adequately describe the power of the Holy Spirit pulsating through every fiber of your being; yet, the only thing I can plausibly relate the feeling to which is of this earth is that of an electric current vibrating through your body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head any and all at once, not fleeting in an instance and gone, but continuing on and on until the final “Amen” was spoken.

Not once, but every-time-we-prayed!

Nothing can, nor will ever compare.

Nothing will ever replace the power of the Holy Spirit; no nothing.

We said our tearful goodbyes. Once more, like so many other somber goodbyes, I wondered if I would ever see Mr. Hammer again on this side of Glory, like anytime we meet our brothers and sisters in Christ for the first time. We shook hands once more and I lifted up prayers for his safe travels back to his home and family.

Yes, it was another cold, gray, overcast Monday. But through the midst of the shroud, there was a light shining above.

To God be the Glory.

Amen.

If you have had a similar or like experience, then comment and share with others. Let your testimony be a light unto the world!

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by | January 11, 2016 · 8:34 pm

In Our Midst…

Another day of sharing, growing and belief in all that we do.jesus

There was barely time to reflect on the previous week when another one began. There is no greater joy in ministry than when you get time to fellowship with others of like minds. Yes, there are other times when you are helping others different than ourselves, those who need our help to know the way, the truth and the light; they are important. But then there are times when you can speak as freely and deeply as you want with others and for a few moments, life passes by more quickly than is necessary.

Today was another one of those.

However, before I can expound upon today, let me share with you something of note that happened last week, something that was yet another one of those God-moments.

We had planned on working as a group taking down Christmas lights early on in the week but due to weather and illnesses, most of our staff was unable to be there. As foul weather rolled in, we hunkered down and worked on the things we had put off until this time of year. Like the old time settlers, we turn our focus inward taking on tasks that make us grow mentally and prepare for the future. I had begun working on a proof paper, something that I could take and share with those who may question our ability to reference our Waldensian connection back to the time of the Apostles. The research and study are as much fun as they are challenging. Not only do I get to dig back into archives centuries old, but I also get to reference points in scripture that correlate to those ancient events; a win, win either way. The investigative research and study hours flew by and before I realized it, Thursday was staring us in the face.

Yes, it was time once more to get back to taking down and putting away the lights.

However, many of our volunteers were still down with ailments. So, when Thursday morning arrived, there was only going to be three of us able to perform the work necessary for at least four grown men. Desperate for help, a thought came to mind of a young man that had contacted me on FB about possibly being part of the Trail when he graduated college. Knowing he had just graduated and moved back to the area, I messaged him with a plea for assistance early Thursday morning and sent up a small prayer for help; I had nothing to lose.

We began our work and were just about to try to tackle the most difficult part with one man down when suddenly, into the drive pulled the new grad, Chilo. I thanked the Lord for answering prayer. As Chilo walked up, I thanked him for coming and shook his hand. He replied, “Good to see you once more.” We were in the heat of battle, so to speak, so I let the comment go without question as we rushed to our positions and began lowering the heavy towers. From there, we worked as a team, as if we had known one another for many years, and continued to fellowship as we went. Lunchtime arrived and our stomachs were yelling for attention, so Chilo and I took our reprieve at the local pizza parlor. As we sated our hunger, Chilo asked what brought me to the Trail of Faith. I asked had he not heard the testimony, “No,” he replied. So I began sharing the story of prayers answered, the trail of faith of my own, one that began with the spiritual awakening. As I watched the clock, I realized we would have to get back to the Trail, so we reconvened the story while we continued to work on bringing down more archways along the pathway of the Trail. There I began to share with him the point of the story where I had begun to evangelize through my book. In the back of my mind, I had still continued to search for the “why” or “how” of his initial statement of, “Glad to see you once more.” As if we needed confirmation, there suddenly in the parking lot looking lost was stood a young man. I paused our conversation and walked toward him to ask him if I might help him. He had not driven up, like I said, he had just appeared. As I approached him, he turned toward me and I somehow felt I knew him from someplace before. He said he was just looking around and thought he’d stop in. I asked him if we had met before. He looked at me with a puzzled face and then smiled, “Why yes,” he replied, “at the book signing you had at the library here in town two years ago.

My mind raced back and recalled the young man. He had asked many questions as if he was searching that day for something greater than just the story I shared. At this point, most people are asked to enter through the visitor center and encouraged to take the guided or self-guided tour. However, there was a feeling of this moment, this person, this exact time in my testimony he had appeared as if on cue.

God doesn’t mess around.

Knowing how the Trail has become a calling for many, some without knowing, I began to ask him if he had ever seen the inside of the church. As we all walked toward the temple, I began to ask him if he might need prayer today. He nodded that he might. I unlocked the doors and then began to share a bit of what the church and our ancient faith was about. We took our seats in the front of the church. I explained to him how there was something missing and asked him to look around and see what it might be. Both he and Chilo searched and then realized, there was no cross. I then began to explain what the most important thing to those ancient people of the valleys, yes, the very thing they lived and died to protect; the Word of God.

I then looked at our visitor and asked him if there was anything troubling him, anything in his life that might need prayer. He began to choke up as he began speaking in a hushed tone about his mother who was ailing. He had lost his job and was forced to move back in with his parents. It was obvious God had sent him for a purpose this day. We then combined together to say a prayer, all three of us, who a mere 24 hours before would have no idea we would be there in the church this day, praying together in unison.

We closed our prayer and walked out of the church, saying our goodbyes, but welcoming him back whenever he felt the need.

Suddenly the afternoon took on a whole new light.

It was then, the question of why Chilo had introduced himself as saying, “Good to see you once more,” came back to mind. I asked him, how he could say that and where we might have met. He replied that it was during the Waldensian festival three years ago when I had been evangelizing through my book.

Sometimes you know God is watching and then sometimes you know he is surely in our midst; yes, it was one of those moments. Both men had been with me at a point in my life exactly when we had been interrupted in my testimony, by not only one but two witnesses to my story.

Yes, we serve an awesome God!

From there on, it was if Chilo and I had found an ancient tie, one that distance, space or ancestry could not break; our faith in Jesus Christ. While we may not have agreed 100% on all things, we felt a common bond and by the end of the afternoon, I found I kept having to urge him to keep track of his time for fear he was forgetting as did I, for I had a doctor’s appointment that I nearly forgot had it not been for my dear wife calling to remind me.

Yes, time evaporated, leaving us with only memories of our existence with one another.

Today, the fellowship was the same. I met pastor McDevitt of Morganton First Church of God for lunch and it was one of those experiences where you become so wrapped in the conversation that the food’s importance in front of you diminishes to the point it becomes an obstacle. I love those times with brothers and sisters in Christ that allow your heart to open up and something is moved, ideas are formed and future bonds are created. It’s a walk I’ve come to be blessed with more and more.

Godly fellowship can make time disappear, yet our faith is emboldened and we grow together in our walk with God. I am eternally thankful for the position the Lord has placed me and know that time will pass, but as we grow and age, there are many things that build character and strengthen our faith; these are the things we must continue to embrace and lift up each day, sharing with those around us as much as our lives will allow.

Another day, another walk on the Trail.

Thanks be to God in all that we do.

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by | November 5, 2015 · 9:05 pm

Prayer, A Powerful Thing…

Screenshot_2015-11-05-21-52-53“The preparations of the heart belong to man, But the answer of the tongue is from the Lord.” –Proverbs 16:1

There were once days in my life that would pass so quickly, so barely noticeable that I was welcome to wake up and find the next calendar date, not knowing at all what had transpired in my life other than a moment of sleep and long hours of work. These two bookends were separated by life-threatening drives home and reflective rides to work. I often prayed that God would deliver from this living hell, dead or alive.

 

That was then, this is now.! My days are much different now.

When we give everything over to the Lord, it’s amazing how fast and quickly the world around us can change.

There’s not a day now that doesn’t pass without another miraculous, amazing, God-like event or moment occurring in my life. This past week was like so many others, one story after another unfolding before us shaping us into who we are and what we will become.

Like this day I’m about to share.

The young woman pulled up hurriedly in a little red pickup as if she might be in a rush to deliver something. I walked toward the door of the Trail to see who it was or what it might be getting delivered. It was then that I recognized the young lady. A couple months ago, she and her boyfriend had dropped by to talk about helping us out at the Trail by donating some lumber to help us repair the bleachers at the Bocce courts. During their visit, I had shared with them my testimony about coming to the Trail. I had not heard from them since and as it often goes, I had wondered if my words had found a place in their hearts or if I had said something to keep them away. In a small way, I had prayed for God to help them if they needed it and if it was His will, to send them back; and here she stood.

She began to share with me that she had returned and that she wanted to help, that she was being led to do something at the Trail. It was almost as if God was pressing on her in order to demand her to do His will, yet she didn’t know how or why. We sat and talked for quite a while and discussed opportunities we had available at the Trail.

Yet, there seemed to be something else, something more that she couldn’t express.

As we continued our conversation, as we walked back to the parking lot, she asked me what it was that she could do to find peace. For some reason, my mind was blocking out what I really wanted to say. For some reason, God knew that there was another purpose for her being here. All I could recall to offer her for support was to pray, read her Bible and to put away all the distractions in her life. The sincerity with which she evoked her emotions made me feel more than inadequate. She had shared with me how my testimony had awakened in her a burning desire to serve the Lord, but she didn’t know how. I shared with her that she might want to visit the prayer service that was being held that night over at the River of Life Church. Pastor King had began a prayer service after he was feeling led to do so. I had yet to go to the service, but knew when it started, which I shared with her. As she drove off, I wondered to myself what purpose I was serving in my life now. What beacon of light was the Trail really becoming? As I walked back into the building, it hit me like a ton of bricks, the fact that I had failed to witness to her, something I had more than wanted to do. Here I had blown the perfect opportunity, yes, the perfect opportunity. How else could she receive peace but to find Christ into her life!

I drove home that evening, thinking how God had sent someone to me to witness too and I had been unable to speak. As I drove around the corner and past the church, I prayed that God might find a way to send her to the there tonight, and if possible, I would go. It had been a long day, and when I got home, the bed was already calling. The 4:30 am start that previous morning was wearing on me. As I lay down in bed after eating supper, I felt as if I could easily drift off to sleep, but something wouldn’t allow me to do so. Something, or someone, said, “Get up and go pray.” So I did.

I arrived early at the prayer service. There was nobody else in the parking lot except me. I walked in and sat on the front row with my Pocket Testament League book of John and my Bible in hand. I began reading passages as my mind would drift from one scripture to the next, praying in between readings as I went, each time praying about things, people and needs in my life and then praying that God might send the young woman here tonight so that we might have another chance to help her in her search for God.

I prayed like I have never done before; intense life changing prayer.

Time passed, my recollection of it was incomprehensible. After what seemed like an eternity I paused and tried to clear my head.

Then I looked up toward the alter …and there she was.

God had answered prayer once more.

She had brought a friend, and together, they were filling out prayer slips to place on the prayer wall. I silently thanked God for his answer and waited for them to come back from the wall. It was then that I welcomed them and the young lady introduced her friend. We briefly talked about their finding the church and it was then that I offered to pray over them, which they accepted. We went to the alter and I shared with them the witnessing I had failed to do earlier that day. As we finished praying, I realized that the young woman who had been at the Trail had known the word I spoke, for she had once accepted Christ into her life. God had purposely held my tongue knowing that I alone was not going to be able to break through. It was then I realized my need for assistance. Thankfully, the pastor’s wife was standing ready to move in and it was then I saw and felt the Holy Spirit move through us all, all four of us as we brought two people to Christ that night. There was a trembling of the earth as sins were washed away. Yes, God was moving in our lives and it was like riding a runaway chariot down the side of a mountain, with God at the reigns!

Before leaving, I handed the young lady the gospel of John I had used to pray with that night, offering it to her to use from this point forward. At least now, it felt right.

Yes, it was just another day at the Trail, one more to carry in my heart forever more.

Yes, just another day.

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by | October 18, 2015 · 10:02 pm

Power of Prayer…

 

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.” –Psalm 19:14

Prayer connects us to God in ways we as mere mortals beings may never understand.

Each day I find God only tests us with what he knows we can handle; this week was no different.prayer

First thing Monday morning we had our first visitors, a walk-in family of four who were there or a self-guided tour. As I began introducing them to the Trail, I felt led to share with them more than the basic story and soon found myself sharing my testimony. Their children were very attentive and extremely well educated in Christianity; knowing more scriptures than many adults I’ve met. Later we would find that they were home schooled which explained their advanced Biblical knowledge. I specifically recalled the point where it hit me that this was another “God Moment,” as I’ve been calling them lately. That moment came after they had watched our introduction movie and had turned around to ask questions. For some reason, I can’t recall the details, they mentioned something about being from Durham. Perhaps I had shared with them the farm and the fact that we hadn’t yet sold ours back in Chatham County and then they said how they were looking to get out of Durham and move out into the country. It was then the image of God smiling, looking down on us all came to mind. I know God has a sense of humor; knowing all the struggles, showings and lack of getting our house to move at all. Could this be the family that only He could have found and sent to us to start the ball rolling?

As I took them on more of a guided tour than a self-guided tour while I was able, as long as another guest didn’t arrive we can spend more time with our guests, I was able to share with them in more detail the whole story. When we give tours, we can often tell when the Holy Spirit begins to work in our visitors and this particular morning, He was definitely with us. I learned that the mother’s maiden name was “Barba,” as the name of those who taught and led the student’s at the college in the valleys. I encouraged her to seek out more of her family tree, especially since she knew she was of Italian ancestry. Although I don’t need a miracle to believe, there are some who do and what another amazing story it would be if this was the family.

Oddly enough, when we tried to show them our farm that was for sale on the MLS listing, it hit me, that we had taken it off the market temporarily and that it wasn’t available to show them. Instead, we gave them contact information for our realtor and the address, just in case. It was almost as if we weren’t allowed to go too far that day, but just enough.

In God’s time, we shall see.

Then, as if we needed another gear switched, we had a totally different perspective arrive on Wednesday when Ron Long and his wife Donell arrived from New Mexico. For Ron’s birthday, Donell arranged to bring him to Valdese to visit the town from where his grandfather had come. Before finding us at the Trail, they had already gone to the museum downtown. They had also studied the Waldensians somewhat so that I was able to jump right into my testimony and share with them my own spiritual journey. As I did, we soon found our ancestral ties, since Ron’s family tree also included Trons. As their self-guided tour turned into a guided tour, while I was once again able, we found so many connections and similarities in our own journey that we literally could not find enough words to share the moment. Family reunions like this, set apart by centuries of time, require nearly an eternity to allow us all the time needed to pass from one to the other the stories of who, what, where and why. I can only imagine that day when Christ returns and we shall all be called to that eternal heavenly home, to share with all our family gone on before. Eternity awaits, for it will be needed in order to hear every last word of every last tale that each of us has to share.

Ron and Donell felt such a strong desire to be part of the journey that they openly expressed how they wished that God might find a way to move them here someday. I offered them my prayers that it might come to pass.

Before Ron and Donell left, we shared our contact information and let the know about the evening meal at the Waldensian Church later that evening. We hugged goodbye not knowing if we would ever meet again. As fate would have it, we met them at the Church dinner later. They were there along with Marilynn from the museum, who had given them their tour earlier in the day enjoying the wonderful Wednesday evening meal. We had another great visit and soon found ourselves hugging goodbye more than once; family whom you know you might never see again is very hard to see go away, especially after you’ve just met. God only knows!

As if the week hadn’t already been moving enough, then came Thursday.

An older couple came walking in later that Thursday morning. I began the introduction to the Trail for their self-guided tour and it was during that brief intro that I felt something speak to me, to tell me to go on, so I did. As I gave my testimony, I felt myself being drawn closer to God in a way that I had never felt before. Before I knew it, the lady to whom I was speaking began to cry and then said to me that she had cancer. I could feel her need for fervent prayer and I opened my arms, embracing her and her husband at the same time, praying over them, asking God for healing and strength; it was a first for me here at the Trail. It was then that I shared with her how my own mother had fought and battled cancer for over 20 years before passing a couple years ago, and that with faith, anything was possible. From that point on, until I could go no further due to other arriving guests, I stayed with them and felt a connection unlike any other. We didn’t have to be blood relatives to feel a bond, we were brothers and sisters in Christ. Later when they came back in, we hugged goodbye and I prayed a silent prayer for them as they drove away. We may never meet again on this side of Glory, but oh what a glorious day it will be when we do.

And then came Friday.

Suffice it to say, we had our challenges but our staff and volunteers worked like seasoned professionals, meeting every obstacle with undaunted determination. In the end, we served nearly 100 guests who were all able to hear our story, our testimony, smell the wood being cut on the sawmill, taste the fresh baked bread and even allowed to roll a few bocci balls. Yes, Friday was as beautiful as it was blessed, with its azure blue skies and crisp fall air.

We had made it through one of our best weeks to date and survived. My 4:30 AM start date that Friday morning wore on me pretty hard by the time 11:00 PM rolled around at the youth center, but I was quite thankful to be able to go home and have a wonderful night’s sleep.

Prayers had been answered more than once, and some we may never know.

Later that weekend my sister called to let me know my brother-in-law had found a job. I shared with her that after the last time we spoke, about a month earlier, I began making a conscious effort to pray for him to find a job. That had been nearly three weeks ago. I asked her when he found the job, she then paused and said, “It was about three weeks ago.” He had been about to take a job far, far away where he might have to move to temporarily and work making an extreme hardship on him and the family but suddenly before he packed to leave, another company called an offered him a job locally, for more money. That was the job he now had. It was then that we thanked God for prayers answered on both ends of the phone.

As Allen King, the pastor of River of Life Church, continues the prayer revival, we too return to prayer more and more. As we do, amazing Godly things begin to transpire, transforming our reality into answered prayers.

All we have to do is believe, and pray.

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by | August 10, 2014 · 8:56 pm

Agape Journey…

The rain came down in sheets as dark clouds loomed to the horizon.10592838_10204470877797851_7162012123435692523_n

We sat inside thinking of the months of practice, looking out as the water flowed down Main Street as the torrent fell from the sky. It was Friday morning, the day of our Festival of Faith which was to be performed later that day at 5pm in Jacumin Plaza. The forecast had been for rain, heavy rain and now it seemed that for once the weatherman had it right. I looked at my family and knew that regardless of the outcome, we were going to perform, knowing there would be no tomorrow, no second chances, or so we believed.

I bowed my head and said a silent prayer asking for God to halt the rain long enough so that there would be a break before the time of our show, perhaps letting folks know it was safe to venture out, and then long enough for us to conclude our performance. I had learned from Pastor Thomas to be specific in prayer requests and as I have been told, I am far too sparse on prayer requests for my personal needs. So not withstanding my own conviction, I asked and I asked boldly; so much so that I told the children I had asked God to make a break in the weather, to which they only nodded.

The heavy rain kept falling.

We carried on during the day preparing regardless of what the skies above did; the rain continued to fall with clouds so dark it sometimes seemed as if it were late evening rather than early afternoon.

Then miraculously, about an hour before the time of our show, the rain slowed, ebbed and finally stopped. As we began setting up the sound equipment for the stage, the street dried and clouds began to part with intermittent shafts of sunlight flowing through.

My heart smiled as I realized, God had not only answered my prayers, but also for the fact my children saw once again the power of prayer in action.

The evening’s show went off without a problem as the youth of our bands, the Boy Scouts from troop 192, and Senator Jacumin performed flawlessly, providing an emotionally charged performance that moved those in attendance beyond words. The response was so great from those who arrived late, that we were asked to perform the show again on the next day, Saturday; another day that the weather forecast had predicted 100% chance of rain. Those who were part of the performance looked at me thinking it impossible, but I smiled for within I knew if it was His will, it would be done. I agreed that if it were possible we would do a second show on Saturday.

10609549_10204474460927427_2830980695479622225_nIn the meantime, we had never seen the play “From This Day Forward” and since the rain had abated, we all hurried from our show off to grab a quick bite for supper and then still in costume, attended the long awaited play. We were not disappointed. The first Act had such an impact that I found it difficult to hold in my emotions, even after I had written about such atrocities. So well done was the performance of the “Massacre” scene that the full force of the sight and sound combined brought all to tears as the sounds of cries in the darkness still echo in my head. It was truly a moving moment. That Saturday evening, even though dark clouds loomed overhead, we were protected as the entire play went off without the first raindrop.

On the way back to the hotel from the play, the weather finally broke and the heavens opened up; my soul felt relieved and thankful all at once.

We awoke Saturday morning to an overcast sky, but the rain had stopped just before dawn.

Later in the day, sometime after the second show, when there had been no rain since early that morning, I sat and thanked the Lord once again for answering prayers beyond what were deserved or expected and realized His will had been done once again.

In all, the weekend was more than just our performance; total immersion in the spirit is the only way I can begin to describe it. For our small troop of performers and families, we found the will of God working in our immediate lives so greatly that we will forever be changed. From the beauty of the sweet voices being lifted up in praise to the words of gratitude spoken by our audience members, from blessings of seeing what we portrayed acted out by others, to strangers stopping us on the street asking us why were dressed in costume which gave us the opportunity to witness to them our story and conviction; it was more than just listening to a story, it was living the tale, the journey became one with the lives we lived. As we stood in the darkness of the Cathedral Cave on the Trail of Faith and I described its significance to those young voices who asked in that darkness what it was about, I realized there was a need, a reason to share the story beyond merely telling it; reliving it to some degree was necessary.

This Sunday morning, Pastor Dr. Fredrick at the Waldensian Presbyterian Church gave his sermon on the Agape Center that began in 1947 by a small group of Waldensians. Agape is Greek word describing “Christ-like love” and is considered the highest form of love; it is self-giving. After this weekend, I felt I had begun to understand what others came to realize through their total immersion in the spirit when they came together to create the center by hand. From this small group of Waldensians led by Tullio Vinay their servitude created something that brought together Christians from all walks of life, rather than divide them. To this day, the Agape center is used by Christians from all over the world as a spiritual retreat, a place where one can take a sabbatical, a place to step back and understand all that God has done in our lives, whether we realized it or not.

Although it was only slight, I believe we experienced Agape love this weekend and for that I am beyond grateful.10514648_10204470795395791_1250824463609537247_n

How much more could one ask, how much greater could time spent with friends and family be spent; this I cannot imagine or answer other than this was more than a fulfillment of any dream I had dared to imagine.

Blessings are given to those who seldom realize them until it is too late. I pray that the Lord allows me to never forget the blessings I received this past weekend, for the Festival of Faith was all and more than I could have ever imagined, Agape love if you will and for this I feel truly blessed.

Thank you God!

“[ The Greatest Gift ] Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing. ….” – 1 Corinthians 13

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by | January 11, 2013 · 3:45 pm

What We Least Expect Sometimes is the Greatest Reward…

ToddNC2Most of the time I feel like the least of the writers in our writing group, the Inkspot’s of GUMC, not that I expect to be great from being the least, as Jesus was saying in the scripture of Luke. Rather, I feel like the least qualified to be writing in a room filled with such wonderful authors.

This past week we took turns reading from our recent writings and everyone seemed to be absolutely wonderful, save for mine.

Thomas read from two book reviews he is doing as part of his PhD studies. Both of the books he was required to read, “Pastoral Theology” and “Open Secrets,” he had the good fortune of having the authors as professors while attending Duke Divinity College. I was impressed to hear as he read aloud at the depth of knowledge he had acquired over time both from not only constantly reading and studying the Word of God, but also from his literary skills as a writer. More than once I had to take notes from what I heard. We learned of the pressures of the daily grind of pastoral work which was exemplified by the statement when he labored over being human when he was supposed to appear as he put it, “Cloaked in a mystery of divinity.” We also learned of Wesley’s Quadrilateral philosophy of scripture, tradition, experience and reason. Wesley believed scripture was the most important but as Thomas pointed out, today we are finding people more inclined to use experience as their base instead of scripture. In all, it was very enlightening and educational.
>ToddNC
Next, Sherry Thornburg read from a story she had written about living in Todd, NC. I believe she called it, “The House Across the Creek.” It was quite a heart-warming story, which took you back in time. At first hearing the name of the story I was taken to Cross Creek Florida, but then that is another story.
Sherry told the story of how she grew up in a four room house in Todd next to Elk Creek. As she read her story, I closed my eyes and could see myself growing up alongside her there in Todd. She talked of how they played house, play acted and even performed on the foot log that spanned Elk creek from their home side to the general store side of the creek. The bridge was their stage and the creek was their audience. A large buckeye tree anchored one side of the foot bridge with a log chain, which kept it from washing away when the creek would get up. Sitting there listening to her read her story I was taken back in time growing up in New Harmony, Indiana at my grandma Tron’s house. There, we too played in the yard and around the farm in similar fashion. We never had a beautiful rushing stream flowing by our front porch as did Sherry, but we had lush green pastures rolling by instead, against the backdrop of the hills that made up the vast forest that bordered the Wabash river which ran past our little town of New Harmony.

Although we were worlds apart in distance, we shared the similar experience of a Spartan existence in our rural lives, cherishing the fond memories of a time gone by when life moved at a different pace, one we too often fail to recognize in our hurriedly rushing lives today.

As she closed, the words she spoke from the pages she had written brought forth emotions, the heart strings that make us who we are. The stories within when spoken often become stronger than we had imagined without forming the words through our lips to be spoken. Once their sounds escape and come back to us through our own ears, we sometimes are overwhelmed with the magnification of feelings previously thought insignificant.
farmhouse
After Sherry read it was Laverne’s turn. He never ceases to impress us with stories from his past, all bringing forth similar recollections as did Sherry’s story; taking us all back in time. However, unlike usual, Laverne had written a poem. It wasn’t limerick in nature, rather, more of a prose, but the story it told was so rich with imagery it couldn’t help but touch your heart.

Laverne talked about past loves and a large Sycamore tree under which he had spent many hours as a youth. Being small in size, he often had prayed for God to either make him large or to give him courage. The latter, he found, was eventually how he was blessed. Over time, sitting under his Sycamore tree there in the middle of the pasture, he had carved the names of many a girlfriend while spending hours looking up at the heavens wondering how his life would someday turn out. Recently when recovering from heart surgery, he was lying in the hospital bed and reflecting back on his life and somewhat bothered about how it might all end. He realized he was becoming agitated, so he tried to find a way to calm himself. His Sycamore tree came to mind and the shade of the great labyrinth of limb and leaf began to shelter him once more. In his mind he was once more seeing the great trunk of the tree, the carved names, the beauty of the place he knew so well, comforting him and relaxing him to the point he realized he had nothing to worry about; it was all in God’s hands. I can imagine sitting under Laverne’s tree, which is no longer there, looking out at the fields spreading away from you, reaching to the tree-lined horizon. There is a certain calming affect one can take away from such a place; a refuge, a place to reflect and gather oneself before marching boldly off into the future. Yes, God gave Laverne courage, but it was not the only gift the good Lord had bestowed upon my dear friend; humility of spirit and love of life are some of his greater gifts.

Cindy went next, reading from a story she had written about the birth of her recent grandson. She called her story, “It’s alright I’ve got this”. She shared with us a touching story of a young woman expecting her third child and deciding to have a “water birth”. The eventuality of the story that struck me most was how as parents we sometimes have to let go and allow our children to be themselves, as was the case in this story. Her daughter was evidently determined to have the birth her way, but in the end, it was as God had intended, and yet in a way she was still able to be proud of; a home birth. In the end, mother and daughter came to a deeper understanding and respect for one another, each finding a strength from the other formed by the bond of unconditional love.

After Cindy, then her daughter Savannah shared with us her ideas for an upcoming novel she would like to write. I won’t share those thoughts at this time for sake of her privacy of subject matter, but suffice it to say, we have a wide spectrum of age in our talented group, one which might help us continue long into the future. To hear Savannah talk it was refreshing to hear the youth of our time alive and excited to create stories. We have much to be thankful for.

Finally, after I had read, the leader of our writer’s group, Sims Poindexter, took her turn. She read from emails she had sent out over Christmas. Sims had spent several days in the hospital, some of which was humorous, but sitting there listen to her tell her story, it was obvious to me, we are very blessed to still have her with us after all she had been through. The feeling of thankfulness was soon rewarded with a revealing story she shared in her final email. It was one she wrote after returning home after her hospital stay, and after all the family had left to return to their own homes following their Christmas visit. She told of simply looking around the room and the moving stories behind each little nuance or reminder left behind by those who would have no idea they had left their impression, albeit from a rock left on the piano, to an overturned ornament under the tree. She had seen or could tell the story behind every essence of actuality which had transpired. Her love for all was revealed in her appreciation for them, even down to the touch of inanimate object remaining long after they were gone.

Each story, each prose I heard that evening was so thought provoking, that in a matter of two hours, we got up to leave feeling as if we had just arrived. Personally, I felt left behind after all I had heard. My story seemed to pale in comparison, at least in my own mind. What I was able to take away was a feeling of being blessed to be in the company of people willing to openly share and support one another in something that is, in most instances, from the heart.
Yes, I feel I am the least with regard to my writing when compared to the others, but I feel most grateful in the reward of being blessed by such wonderful acquaintances and friends, such that it makes my appreciation far beyond the least; for this I am greatly blessed.

“and said to them, “Whoever receives this little child in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent Me. For he who is least among you all will be great.”
– Luke 9:48

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