The Christmas Season is over today for those folks who wait until the Feast of Three Kings or Orthodox Christmas to call it over. The New Years is well under way, and I suppose most of those well-meaning resolutions are already broken, Continue reading “Specific”
Pastor Kasibante Peter emailed several photos for me to share. He’ll also provide some reports on the area in which he lives and ministers, about the people to whom he’s been working with, Continue reading “Pastor Kasibante Peter’s Church in Uganda”
Merry Christmas.
May the Lord Bless all of you
who celebrate the First Advent
of Y’shuaJesus.
He is Messiah; He is Lord.
I pray that you all look forward to,
even long for, His Second Advent.
Last summer, beneath a lonely full moon that cried out to me, “Chill Out, Dude,” I relaxed a little. I enjoyed the solitude, the sound of waves slapping the hull, and the breeze filling the sails. When finally the sun dropped behind the pine trees to the west, I stirred only to discover the battery was dead. That meant no lights. Darkness stole the evening and my peaceful sail. Then, naturally, the breeze dropped out and the sails lay ideal, and Cassandra, a heavy, full-keeled, twenty-five-foot sailboat, came to an abrupt halt. Continue reading “Chill Out!”
“An English degree and a dime,” Dad said, “will get you a cup of coffee.” A dime won’t get me a cup of coffee these days. Do something “practical.” How ’bout a marine biologist. And later, inspired by my auto shop teacher, I wanted to get my degree in industrial arts and teach. When I finally started college, it was like more high school—same-O, same-O. The English I liked. I did take psychology. It was good too. But I didn’t HAVE to attend class. I found my niche; I majored in lounge. My days consisted of hanging out in the student lounge and fraternizing. Occasionally I attended a class or two. English and psychology.
“Your problem is that you’re codependent,” her words jabbed Continue reading “Getting Old”
“So you had your own boat,” the young man asked, “and fished commercially?”
“Yes. It was a long time ago,” the old preacher said.
“That’s really cool. Why did you quit?”
“It was ‘cool,’ as you say,” said the preacher. “I actually quit twice, then left for good. Life has other things that need to be done, things that aren’t always as pleasant. Not that staying up all night fishing to come home without even a fish to cook for breakfast is so wonderful.”
“That happened?”
“It surely did. More than once. There was one time,” then the preachers voice fell off and his eyes glazed over, misting.
“What?”
“I had gone back to fishing after about four years away, after my teacher and friend died,” the preacher continued. “I was with old friends, fishermen. We’d been out all night long, catching absolutely nothing—not even a nibble. Just after dawn we headed back in, knowing it was no use staying out longer. As we came to shore, not far from our town, we saw a man on cooking stirring a small campfire. ‘If he’s waiting for fish to fry,’ we all thought, ‘he’s gonna wait a long time.
” ‘Do you have any fish?’ the man on the beach beckoned to us. We all called out, ‘No!’ at the same time. He called back to us, ‘Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.’ ”
“Did you catch some then?” the young man prodded the old preacher.
“I can’t imagine why we even gave that man the time of day,” the preacher mused aloud. “I mean, some non-fisherman tells us, the experts, where to drop a line to catch fish. But we did.”
“And,” the young man impatiently prodded.
“And we were unable to haul it in because of the great number of fish,” the preacher said.
“WOW! So who was that man?”
“Well, it was our teacher, the one we’d originally left fishing to follow around the country.”
“Wait! You said he died, that was why you went back to fishing.”
“That’s true,” the old preacher said. “He died and came back from the dead and came to us on the beach. It was just like him, too. We pulled that load of fish up on the sand, and he was already cooking fish on his campfire. He looked at usand said, ‘Come. Have breakfast.’ ”
“WOW! Wasn’t that a shock?”
“Oh, we’d seen him before,” the preacher explained. “After he died, he resurrected and came to us so that we’d understand all that he’d taught us.”
“So he’s the one who taught you how to be a preacher?”
“Indeed! We mourned him even when he returned to speak to us. And one of my friends said, ‘I am going fishing!’ and a few of us went, too,” the preacher explained.
“But you quit fishing then, right?”
“Yes. Our teacher left us with a mandate; he said:
Follow me!
“So we did. And here I am today.”
“WOW!”
“Yes. WOW,” sighed the old preacher.
(Based on John 21)
The latest zombie-laden season of Walking Dead is off to a violent and bloody start. One of my kids still watches it, and gave me the details of someone from the original cast, season one, that is now off the show—killed off. I don’t bother watching it anymore. I saved recorded episodes thinking I may want to catch up; there are thirty or so saved now and I still haven’t felt like going back to it.
If you’ve never watched “Walking Dead,” it’s definitely not an off-the-shelf Zombie show. It is a custom-tailored adventure show about a band of people simply trying to live another day, against all odds and a lot of zombies who would like to see them become zombies. There are some social lessons we can glean from “Walking Dead,” too. But at one time my real reason was to see all the “What-Not-To-Do” moments. Continue reading “Zombie Apocalypse Revisited”
Every so often, a compilation of emails sent to Renewal Ministry Fellowship of Australia is sent out. The emails contain many reports of the work of G-d in India, the Middle East, and Africa. The emails also report of the destruction of Christians’ property, restrictions on Christian ministry, and persecution of our brothers and sisters in hostel lands. Occasionally reports are made on the deaths of Christians. Here is one such email:
From: Dr Mary Job in INDIA:
“Martyrs are those who rise above the most horrific circumstances and lay down their lives as willing sacrifices so that the `living Christ` is forever worshipped and honored. [Note: British Spelling] We bring you news of the latest martyrs from Syria, whose lives and deaths reveal that persecution against Christians is rising but so is the determination to stand up against the vilest of persecution…
“Eleven missionaries from Aleppo who were providing aid to war-affected survivors were brutalized and then crucified. The incident took place on August 28, but reports have only surfaced now. Apparently, ISIS militants entered the village and asked the group of ministry workers whether they follow Christianity. When the Christians said that they do, the rebels asked if they wanted to return to Islam. The Christians said they would never renounce Christ.
“The 41-year-old team leader, his young son and two ministry members in their 20s were questioned at one village site where ISIS militants had summoned a crowd. The team leader presided over nine house churches he had helped to establish. In front of the team leader, the Islamic extremists cut off the fingertips of his 12 year old son and severely beat him, telling his father they would stop the torture only if he returned to Islam. When the team leader refused, the militants beat him and two other ministry workers. The three men and the boy then met their deaths in crucifixion. They were left on their crosses for two days.
“Eight other ministry team members, including two women, were taken to another site in the village and were asked the same questions before a crowd. The women, aged 29 and 33, were publicly raped and then, the two women and six men knelt were beheaded. Eye witnesses say that all the executed were praying as they met their end. Let us draw inspiration from their lives because it would be wrong to weep about their deaths. We pray that the souls of these martyrs will find their peace and joy with their Maker.”
You will repay them, O Lord,
according to the work of their hands.
You will give them dullness of heart;
your curse will be on them.
You will pursue them in anger and destroy them
from under your heavens, O Lord. Lam 3:64-66
“I don’t have a life,” she said.
I’ve heard that more times than I can remember. So perhaps having a chaotic life is better than having no life. Wait one.
“No!” he silently screams.”It’s not.”
Filthy is such a, well, filthy word. Even when it’s not associated with dirt, like filthy rich, it still sounds so negative. I like the word feculent. It sounds so upper crust, don’t you know. One could say “Oh, I love your feculent hair,” and one whose vocabulary was normal, would consider it a compliment. Deceptive, isn’t it?
It’s easy to smile at someone and say something that sounds nice but it isn’t really what is meant. I’ve heard a lot of folks talk about people who seem to feel the need to ask questions such as, “How does this blouse look?” What’s a good response: 1) “Oh, very nice, dear.” or 2) “Well, it’
s a nice blouse, but it looks a bit tight on you today.” There are some people who would handle number two. And then there are some that would be offended and respond curtly, “What? Are you saying I’m fat? I know I’ve gained fifty pounds but I’m stressed and what right do you have to accuse me of being fat?”
Jonah’s Song 