Retrace Our Path

Our journey is to take us forward with Messiah pointing the way. We are on the Pilgrim’s Progress. Though to some we appear to wander about, we are blown by the Spirit. We are as the Earth, in constant motion. As one old sailor put it, “If I rest, I rust.” Certainly we linger once and a while, here or there, to help someone or to recover some malady, or even to rest. It’s all spelled out by King David in Psalm 23:

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

In John’s Revelation, (2:4,5) the Lord points out to us, however, there are times in which we must take a few steps backward. We must retrace our path, our steps.

Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love. Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent.

“Remember – Consider the state of grace in which you once stood; the happiness, love, and joy which you felt when ye received remission of sins; the zeal ye had for God’s glory and the salvation of mankind; your willing, obedient spirit, your cheerful self-denial, your fervor in private prayer, your detachment from the world, and your heavenly-mindedness. Remember – consider, all these.

“Whence thou art fallen – Fallen from all those blessed dispositions and gracious feelings already mentioned. Or, remember what a loss you have sustained; for so εκπιπτειν is frequently used by the best Greek writers.

“Repent – Be deeply humbled before God for having so carelessly guarded the Divine treasure.

“Do the first works – Resume your former zeal and diligence; watch, fast, pray, reprove sin, carefully attend all the ordinances of God, walk as in his sight, and rest not till you have recovered all your lost ground, and got back the evidence of your acceptance with your Maker.”
–Adam Clarke (1760 or 1762 – 1832) British Methodist theologian and Biblical scholar.

There are times when I really want to escape the “modern” life. I want to go back to the Good Ole Days, to return to the Life of Riley. I read Revelation 2, the letter to the Church at Ephesus, and immediately recall the tough yet glorious days I spent in overseas ministries. Nothing about my life then was routine, ordinary. There was struggle, but there were inner rewards. As The Reverend Clarke wrote, “blessed dispositions and gracious feeling” surrounded me. I think back the trucking ministry over the road, traveling the highways of America, meeting people, ministering. Tough, hard. Yes. But oh so wonderful.

Ah, but it’s so easy to forget that retracing steps taken to get me to where I am at this minute doesn’t necessarily mean physical steps. There are spiritual steps taken that have removed me somewhat from the reasons for the glorious feelings of past times. Have I failed to take opportunities each day to do something simple such as pray? When was the last time I sat simply waiting for the Spirit of G-d to fill me, changing my heart? The Reverend Clarke wrote “Resume your former zeal and diligence; watch, fast, pray, reprove sin, carefully attend all the ordinances of God, walk as in his sight, and rest not till you have recovered all your lost ground, and got back the evidence of your acceptance with your Maker.”

It’s not the occupation in the former ministries that brought me closest to G-d, it was the way in which I approached G-d. It was the way I loved and responded to Messiah. The Apostle Paul found the same satisfaction in his Lord, our Lord, in times of terror and imprisonment as he found in times of blessed respite and fellowship. He was content in all things. Contentment isn’t a product of things external, but of what’s going on within.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Reconciled

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling[a] the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

2 Corinthians 5:17-21 (ESV)

Reconcile is defined as:
rec·on·cile (rkn-sl)
v. rec·on·ciled, rec·on·cil·ing, rec·on·ciles
v.tr.
1. To reestablish a close relationship between.
2. To settle or resolve.
3. To bring (oneself) to accept: He finally reconciled himself to the change in management.
4. To make compatible or consistent: reconcile my way of thinking with yours.
1. To reestablish a close relationship, as in marriage: The estranged couple reconciled after a year.
2. To become compatible or consistent: The figures would not reconcile.

“The renewed man acts upon new principles, by new rules, with new ends, and in new company. The believer is created anew; his heart is not merely set right, but a new heart is given him. He is the workmanship of God, created in Christ Jesus unto good works. Though the same as a man, he is changed in his character and conduct. These words must and do mean more than an outward reformation. The man who formerly saw no beauty in the Saviour that he should desire him, now loves him above all things. The heart of the unregenerate is filled with enmity against God, and God is justly offended with him. Yet there may be reconciliation. Our offended God has reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ. By the inspiration of God, the Scriptures were written, which are the word of reconciliation; showing that peace has been made by the cross, and how we may be interested therein. Though God cannot lose by the quarrel, nor gain by the peace, yet he beseeches sinners to lay aside their enmity, and accept the salvation he offers. Christ knew no sin. He was made Sin; not a sinner, but Sin, a Sin-offering, a Sacrifice for sin. The end and design of all this was, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him, might be justified freely by the grace of God through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. Can any lose, labour, or suffer too much for Him, who gave his beloved Son to be the Sacrifice for their sins, that they might be made the righteousness of God in him?” —from the Matthew Henry Concise Commentary

In the great mercy of G-d, we are made compatible with G-d through our belief, our faith, in Y’shuaJesus. This faith, even, is a gift from Him. And thus we are given a task of offering this reconciliation to all people. We also have the task to offer this same reconciliation to ourselves. For in the past we all, and I say again, WE ALL, have not been compatible with the ideals of G-d. We are being perfected, continually being made whole. But there remain past beings that were once us that occasionally come to the surface to haunt us. The person that I was in the past is forgiven, but the actions done by that person are not compatible with G-d, so accuse me today, trying to taint the person I am now. Yet it isn’t to me of today. Perhaps this is, in part, the struggle Paul spoke of when he wrote of the struggle with the old flesh and the new.

It seems to me a proper attitude is needed. I am who I am today by the grace of G-d. That old person that was me is dead, and is best left that way, not resurrected. The person I am today is the person that G-d is working with to bring me to the Feast with Messiah at the head of the table. I am who I am, and G-d has things under control.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Cucamonga

Comedian Jack Benny once told a story about how the small town of Cucamonga got its name. He said that there was once a wagon train traveling what is now Route 66 through southern California that was in need of a cook. The wagon master called to settlers in the area where the town now is saying, “Is there a cook among ya?”

Cucamonga doesn’t exist anymore, exactly. It’s old downtown, if that is what it could be called was leveled. Then Rancho Cucamonga was born, a new creation of modern buildings and stores, its area expanded by grabbing several small unincorporated areas in the vicinity. It looks nothing like the Cucamonga that I remember as a child. I lived on Red Hill, about three miles from the old center of town. Red Hill rose above the old Route 66, with views of surrounding orange groves that extended many miles to the south. For the first year I rode the bus from my house to the small school in Cucamonga.

I remember the school buildings and the rooms. One entire wall of each room was glass windows with black-out draperies that would be pulled closed in the event of an attack. It was the glorious fifties when we feared a nuclear attach by Russia. We practiced pulling the draperies closed and climbing under our desks. Its ironic that today we have no windows on our school classrooms, and there is no fear of a nuclear attach, yet we dread the though of a student or someone else bringing a rifle to school to create chaos, to kill.

At the main intersection of Route 66 as it ran through the old downtown of Cucamonga sat Dee’s Diner. It was an old railroad car with seating along a counter. I got in a little trouble for sneaking out of school during lunchtime one day, going to Dee’s. I remember for the same price as lunch at school, 35 cents, I got a hamburger with fries and a piece of wonderful apple pie. The diner is gone now, and so are lunches for 35 cents. And there aren’t pies made like that anymore, either.

The house that we lived in on Red Hill was along a wash that sat dry most of the year. It was only during the rare storms that it filled up with water running down from the mountains to the north. Across the wash there were orange groves. During the late spring, when the temperatures dropped, smudge pots were lit to ward of the frost that would destroy the newly budded oranges. Smudge pots burned oil, and produced an oily smoke that drifted around the groves, and out toward our house.

A couple other memories come to mind about that house. One is that my dog, who had been on the ranch with us, got old and could no longer walk or eat. My mother and I had to take her on her last trip to the veterinarian. I loved Bonnie, a part German shepherd part collie. She’d sat with me, watching over me, while I as an infant slept in a pram in the yard by our ranch house. When my mom wasn’t home, I used to let her inside. Mom always new, for Bonnie shed long brown hair, leaving a bit of a mess.

The other memory is the hobo that came around occasionally. My mother taught the man how to sharpen knives on the cement porch at the back of the house. In trade, he was given a sandwich and a glass of something to drink. I’ve always thought it pretty cool that my mom helped a guy learn to earn his meal, rather than simply giving him something that only filled his stomach for a short while. These days in international development circles–a big business–we used to say, “Give a man a fish, feed him for a day; teach him how to fish, feed him for a lifetime.”

That house was rented. We lived there for two-and-a-half years then moved to a house we built on the other side of Red Hill. I don’t recall seeing the Hobo again. I wonder if he continued coming to the old house, and getting a meal for sharpening knives. I always thought that he may have traveled all over sharpening knives for people, all because my mother refused him a free lunch.

I tried doing something similar once. I suggested to a homeless fellow that I’d give him lunch if he’d sweep the back room of a grocery store at which I once worked. He couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t need to work when he could go on to the next place and get something for nothing. Times had changed. It seems sort somehow odd that with the demise of the old Cucamonga, and the rise of an affluent and fancy, upscale city, the old hobos with a sense of personal responsibility and a certain integrity gave way to deadbeat homeless.

It seems to me that Y’shuaJesus wants us to over a safety net to help those who truly can’t help themselves. But certainly Y’shuaJesus doesn’t intend for the nets to become hammocks upon which the lazy can lounge.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Christian Liberty in America

Several weeks ago I read an article, reposted at From the Lighthouse Blog that was written by Way of Life Ministries. The articles title asks the question: “What will be illegal when Homosexuality is legal.” I thought, “I don’t know of any laws prohibiting homosexuality; it’s already legal. Though it once was not.”

"Homosexuality is an abomination". — Sign off Highway: “Homosexuality is an abomination”.(Photo credit: Guillaume Capron)

The author clarifies the question in the first sentence, stating: “If homosexuality is fully legalized, meaning if homosexual activists are given every right they demand, citizens in western nations will be robbed of many liberties they have heretofore enjoyed. This is not a guess; it is a judgment based on current facts. The right to free speech and the right to the free exercise of religion, in particular, will be effectively destroyed.” (emphasis added)

It also occurs to me that the author seems to take it for granted that people who are homosexual are both political and social activists and have something in mind beyond the right to a relationship with a person of their own gender.

Okay, go read the article, then come back. Please.

I put this post aside, not really knowing if I want to approach it, if it’s really something I “need” to write. I’ve been to Pennsylvania on holiday. I’ve thought a bit more on this topic. I’ve read something else interesting, too. Reported on a website that speaks about American Christian’s being persecuted, the author says the United States president made an appeal to African nations while on his trip there, saying that he is proud of America for extending equal rights to homosexuals, and that African nations should do so as well. The equal rights to which the president is speaking is the American Supreme Court ruling that opens the door to redefine what constitutes a legal marriage in the U.S., i.e., two men, or two women, or a man and a woman, all would be a marriage under the government’s authority.

The thing is, whether we as Believers and Followers of Y’shuaJesus like it or not, it’s a secular nation, this America. It’s, according to America’s president, no longer only a Christian nation. That means that Christians no longer are able to determine the morality of the nation. That also means that the nation is no longer, if it ever truly was, a nation, one nation, under G-d, as the “Pledge of Allegiance” says. Although even when that is said, I realize that many consider any religion to be a means to the Christian G-d, regardless of any faith in, or even knowledge of, Y’shuaJesus. We are now a nation of many different people without a single ethical/moral code. And our laws, while perhaps founded in Biblical principles, are all that we have. Now even those are being redeveloped and reinterpreted. How this plays out is that despite Christianity that finds abortion, for instance, despicable and contrary to its religion, Christians, through taxes, must pay for abortions. Furthermore, the secular nation begins making a determination that Christians no longer may practice their religion in their workplace, their religious aversion to homosexuality, for instance, by refusing service to openly homosexual people. This, then, could very well be the end of America’s First Amendment right to religious practices in the U.S.

If there truly is a Gay Agenda operating in America, as many people believe, then there is pressure being applied that will forbid Christian’s the freedom to speak openly against any practice that the Bible forbids and the government approves. It’s really not about the freedom to practice un-Biblical acts, it’s about getting us all to approve of them, and doing so despite our Biblical injunction to condemn them. There goes America’s First Amendment right to freedom of speech.

To lend some credence to the “Gay Agenda,” a “Gospel” singer, Jennifer Knapp, titled a recent blog post: “Affirming Faith Voices Crucial For Advancing LGBT Civil Rights.” She’s an advocate to “advance LGBT civil rights” into the churches. Unless I’m misreading things, this means that an openly homosexual person would have the “civil right” to join any church he or she chooses, and remain openly homosexual. Nothing could bar the person from membership in a church that follows Y’shuaJesus and the Bible. That seems to mean that an openly homosexual person could not be barred from teaching “Sunday school” to children attending church.

Portal of the Church of Pilgrims, in Washingto... — Portal of the Church of Pilgrims, in Washington, DC, with a LGBT banner. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jennifer Knapp isn’t the only homosexual within the church. As reported at Way of Life, there are many more Gospel musicians that are coming out of the closet, and declaring they are homosexual. There is a movement within many churches to not only embrace homosexuals–G-d loves the person but hates the sin–but to embrace homosexuality itself. Jennifer Knapp wrote, “Author and minister, Rob Bell. . .is one of the most audible voices of modern Christianity, actively influencing an entire generation of Evangelicals. Recently, Bell publicly expressed his support for gay marriage with emboldened clarity yet, outside of faith-based circles, few noticed. He is one in a handful of articulate, compassionate, and influential religious voices willing to be responsible for moving a generation toward LGBT affirmation. Notable believers like Brian McLaren are crucial in helping Christians understand that the language used by their forefathers is one of an inherited and broken theology that must evolve. It’s important to find positive role models who admit to climbing out of the primordial goo and are willing to build a bridge to safety.” LGBT affirmation. That means church support of homosexual lifestyles coming to your church.

I suppose “broken theology” means putting aside the Bible’s “primordial goo.”

Today in the news:
A respected Indonesian Islamic group has called on the government to cancel next month’s Miss World pageant, saying women exposing skin in a competition violates Muslim teachings.

U.S. Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel says the Pentagon will sell eight Apache attack helicopters to Indonesia for $500 million. The deal includes high-tech Longbow radars.

So, here in the once Christian nation of America, secular agendas are driving church policy. And in Indonesia, a religion is pushing the government to uphold its religious laws. And America is selling that government attack helicopters. Will those helicopters be used to defend the country against Islamists, or will the country become Islamic, and be yet another radical regime against the U.S.?

What’s next?

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Another Broken Egg Cafe

It’s mid-morning in an up-scale and growing part of Georgia north of its big city, Atlanta. I came down here to pick up new glasses, ordered after an exam several weeks ago, but adjustments are necessary and the lab technician won’t be in until later. Rather than make another trip, I figured I’d hang out. I like breakfast. And I like hanging out in coffee shops. There are few places that I frequent, though, so I’m always up for a new experience, if the price isn’t outrageous, which is getting to be the norm these days, and if it looks like I can get an omelet that is without meat but more than cheese, I up for it. Too many places serve a veggie omelet that is just pepper, tomato, and onions. So here I am at Another Broken Egg Cafe.

I sit down at a table with a view of the coffee station, which is okay. There are lots of windows that look out into the parking lot that surrounds the small shopping plaza in which this cafe is located, just down from the optometrist’s office. WiFi is available, so I set my MacBook Air next to my Bible. The Bible is the one that I keep on the dash of the truck that is in a nylon cover proclaiming “This Book is Illegal in 53 Countries.” I ordered unsweetened ice tea. I stopped drinking coffee several months ago, and don’t really miss it, which is a bit odd. While sweet tea is a southern specialty, unsweetened with lemon suites me just fine. I ordered the veggie omelet: spinach, tomatoes, portabella mushrooms, and goat cheese, served with seasoned potatoes and an English muffin. All this at an acceptable price. The service is great here, the folks friendly. On the walls that aren’t windows, there are various framed posters that copies of floral paintings. There are a few framed posters with spoon collections displayed, and one that has a fork and a spoon enclosed in a deep frame that must be four-feet tall. I suppose the decor is Chic Country. There are a number of tables that have couples with older kids. School hasn’t begun here, as it has where I live. Several business-types are here, too, one with others that could be clients or perhaps just friends. At least four tables are crowded with women. They could be on their way to work, or just having a meal out after dropping kids at a pre-school or day camp. For the stay-at-home moms, next week will be the beginning of their real summer break.

The omelet is served quickly. It is good. The seasoning is subtle, lacking the zest of other places. But it’s good. The potatoes are mildly seasoned, and though they are okay, they are really just frozen potatoes heated. The eggs did taste real, though. I was totally disgusted at an IHOP one day when I learned that the omelet is made with batter from a carton, not actually made from eggs broken and stirred. I only learned this when I asked the waitress if I received the wrong eggs–my wife had ordered the fake eggs with her omelet. We’d eaten at IHOP several times, and this was the first time the omelet was so bad. It may have been a new change, or just the way it was cooked. It was not good.

That reminds me of this ma and pa diner outside Oklahoma City. It wasn’t a fancy diner, but served good eggs and great homemade hash browns. The woman behind the counter of the small place was the owner. I suppose it was her husband back in the kitchen. We got to talking and she told me that one time she hired a cook to help out. It didn’t work out, though. The guy came from the fast-food school of cooking and hadn’t a clue how to cook a real egg. It makes me wonder about ordering eggs over easy at a chain restaurant. Do they come frozen, too?

It feels like I fit in here in Another Broken Egg Cafe. I’m wearing western-style boots and a long-sleeve, plaid shirt. It’s not that there are others dressed this way. It’s the diversity of patrons. Some are plainly dressed. Women in shorts, and some guys in a beach-style attire. There’s two men in suits. One guy has a camo hat on, and looks like he drove up in his hunting truck. Only a glance in the parking lots says that others clearly drove an audi or BMW or something more fancy. A person’s car is no indication of wealth, however. The guy in the truck probably owns it, while many folks with fancy cars just rent them. Oh, yeah, it called “leasing.” While one couple with a baby sits by the widow, eating with strained faces and not really talking, all the rest look happy, smiling and talking with their breakfast friends. Ordinary people on an ordinary day, in more-than-ordinary restaurant in northern Georgia.

And not one person has read the cover to my Bible, or given any indication of having done so. And not one person has asked me about it. It’s time to go.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Love one another

How about loving those who torment and persecute you, too. Is it an easy task? Maybe it helps to consider what the Apostle Paul wrote, and how Matthew Henry interprets it.

And in nothing terrified by your adversaries: which is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that of God.

Philippians 1:28

“He exhorts them to courage and constancy in suffering: And in nothing terrified by your adversaries, Php_1:28. The professors of the gospel have all along met with adversaries, especially at the first planting of Christianity. Our great care must be to keep close to our profession, and be constant to it: whatever oppositions we meet with, we must not be frightened at them, considering that the condition of the persecuted is much better and more desirable than the condition of the persecutors; for persecuting is an evident token of perdition. Those who oppose the gospel of Christ, and injure the professors of it, are marked out for ruin. But being persecuted is a token of salvation. Not that it is a certain mark; many hypocrites have suffered for their religion; but it is a good sign that we are in good earnest in religion, and designed for salvation, when we are enabled in a right manner to suffer for the cause of Christ. – For to you it is given on the behalf of Christ not only to believe, but also to suffer for his name, Php_1:29. Here are two precious gifts given, and both on the behalf of Christ: – 1. To believe in him. Faith is God’s gift on the behalf of Christ, who purchased for us not only the blessedness which is the object of faith, but the grace of faith itself: the ability or disposition to believe is from God. 2. To suffer for the sake of Christ is a valuable gift too: it is a great honour and a great advantage; for we may be very serviceable to the glory of God, which is the end of our creation, and encourage and confirm the faith of others. And there is a great reward attending it too: Blessed are you when men shall persecute you, for great is your reward in heaven, Mat_5:11, Mat_5:12. And, if we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him, 2Ti_2:12.” Matthew Henry.

We are to know two things, if nothing else: first, though we suffer trials at the hands of others, are persecuted beyond what we feel is fair or deserved, those who contribute the our suffering are worse off for it that we, for they are marked for ruin; second, our suffering, when enabled to suffer for the cause of Messiah, marks us for salvation in Messiah. We are blessed; they are damned.

English: oasis (Algeria) — Oasis in Algeria (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As we look our tormenter in the face, can we imagine him or her in hell seeing us in Heaven? Probably not. But imagine it this way. Imagine a small park in the middle of the desert, an oasis. We sit upon green grass beneath tall trees. A breeze blows cool air over us. We sing songs, dance, and talk with Y’shuaJesus, who is always present on our oasis with us. Outside the edge of the green is brown sand. It is dry, hot, horrid. An unrelenting burns the skin of those marked for ruin, for damnation. Through baked eyes they look into the oasis they can never enter. Through parched lips they call for help. We don’t see them anymore, but for all eternity they see those they’ve mistreated, tortured, persecuted.

When we are maligned for the cause of Christ, we do best to turn our anger upon the one is causing the torment–the devil and his rebellious minion. Our struggle is not, as Paul has said, against flesh and blood, but against the rulers in the dark realm. . .

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

A Woodpecker, Two Cats, and Two Dogs

This weekend, while sitting in the back yard, I saw a woodpecker hunting for food along the trunk of a pine tree. His red head, a sharp contrast to his black body, moved back and forth wildly as he plunges his beak over and over into the bark of the pine. Then he’d move to another spot and repeat the process. His hunt for food went on and on until perhaps he noticed the bird feeder hanging near the tree. He hopped over to it, and began pecking for his food in the holes along the tube-shaped feeder.

While his pecking action served him well in the pine, and probably fed him seed at the feeder, it also caused seed to fly all over as he forced his beak into the soft seed. If other birds had witnessed this, and could think it, they’d have thought, “how vulgar is that fellow.”

Now the cats. We have two of them. The first, Tabby, was about six weeks old when we took her in. She’d been abandoned. We also took in a puppy, Brandy, at the same time. These two were raised together. Tabby is part Maine coon, and makes quite a scene when we take her into the veterinarian’s office. People love her, but always point out how big she is. She’s huge. . . for a cat. Tabby also has an interesting habit of expressing herself in what is nearly a bark, or as close as she can come. She’s been around Brandy nearly eight years now, and perhaps considers herself more dog than cat.

Two years ago, we took in a German shepherd/husky mix, Sina. While she “talks” as though she were giving a warbled whine, she also will occasionally bark. This is the nature of the husky that is within her.

The three of them are funny when the doorbell rings. The two dogs head for the door, while Tabby makes a straight run for the downstairs family room. She’s decided she’s big, but no match for however is at the door.

A month or so ago, we took in another given-up cat. Violet is about two years old and her previous caretaker couldn’t care for her any longer. Violet is small, and walks around the house carefully. She also has a very cat-like meow. She doesn’t bark like Tabby.

The woodpecker and Violet both act according to their true natures. A woodpecker is meant to peak at trees. Taken out of its environment, to the feeder, it continues to peak as if it were in a tree. Its his nature. Violet, too, speaks with a voice of a cat. “Meow,” she cries. Tabby is different. She was so young, and not long around other cats, that she’s adopted the strange habit of speaking in an bark. Now Sina is really interesting. The longer she’s been around Brandy, the more often she will bark rather than “talk” like a husky.

The Apostle Paul spoke of the nature that we have within us.

. . .put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.

Ephesians 4:22-24

Paul wrote to the church at Ephesus. He wrote to a people who’d not been raised in Jewish tradition and custom. They had formally been Gentiles, heathens, pagans. They were like the woodpecker and the cat Violet. The Ephesians had previously had a particular nature, an old self as Paul pointed out. This was to be a former life, something in the past, and to be put aside. They were encouraged to put on the new self that is created in the likeness of G-d. Tabby, on the other hand, grew up around an animal of a different nature. She accepted that barking, not soft meowing, was to be followed. Sina shows me that even in a short time she is able to adopt new behavior when around a different breed of dog.

The People of G-d come into the Biblical tradition in one of two ways. Either they are born into it, as Jews, or they are adopted into it, as Gentile Believers. For the Jew, it is only a matter of believing that Y’shuaJesus is Messiah that has come, and will come again. The Jewish people were awaiting a conquering Messiah when Y’shua came, died, and rose to Heaven. The Jewish people still await that conqueror. For the Jew to be complete, the Jew must recognize the dual role of Messiah: the suffering servant, Who lived, died, rose; and the conquering Messiah Who will come back to Earth to cleanse the wicked and to rule with justice. Their eyes and heart will be toward Y’shuaJesus as Messiah.

The Gentiles came to understand and find salvation in a Messiah who came to suffer and pay the bond that must be paid to come reconcile themselves with G-d. Formally Gentiles, they must also come to realize that they are now, as has been said, grafted into a domesticated tree. They are not the tree, but grafted branches among the natural branches, the Jewish Believers in Messiah Y’shuaJesus. As such, formally Gentile, Believers come to acknowledge Messiah Y’shua as Lord and Savior and coming King, putting off their former selves and practices of the heathen world.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

A Wonderful Sail Yesterday

Yesterday, I went out to the lake to sail. I stopped on the way to pay a bill. When I arrived at the marina, despite forecasts of wind, there was nothing. Then I realized my phone dropped from my pocket while paying that bill. I drove back to the place, retrieved my wallet, and thought, “No wind. Why bother going all the way back out.” I drove toward home, yet turned on to the highway toward the marina without even realizing it. So I figured, “Okay, let’s try anyway.” On the way, I did see some tree tops moving and some waves forming on the lake. The wind was coming up.

That’s not the first time things like that have occurred to me. I’ve taken the “wrong” highway, ending up in the same place I was suppose to be, only by a different route, and only realizing it when I entered the destination from a different place than I’d recalled from the last time there. I knew it was the right “wrong” way, and wondered what was on the other route that I was prevented from taking: an accident that might delay me? an accident waiting for me? Don’t know. Some things just work out the way they do. Things happen.

At the dock, Cassandra, a Cape Dory Sailboat, was looking pretty good, despite needing her teak oiled and some yellow jackets buzzing around the mast. I’ve sealed off the places they used to build nests, but now they’d found a place under the mainsail cover that apparently suited them. Without ado, I cranked up the motor, cast off the lines, and backed out of the slip. The slip is located deep within a cove, off the lake. The water was calm, mostly clear, and I really wondered if it would be worth it going out. I motored slowly toward the mouth of the cove, rounded the shoreline, and was surprised to see another sailboat on the water, full sails, and moving along just fine. As I entered the lake, I could feel the wind now, coming out of the west. The cove is well protected from that direction, which is why it appeared not to be any wind at all.

Soon I shut off the motor, removed the sail cover, which made the few remaining yellow jackets take fly to another haven, and went forward to the mast where I raised the sail. Returning to the cockpit, I sheeted in the mainsail and began to slowly move ahead. Unfurling the jib to it’s full size, I gained further headway. Though the wind was light, under ten miles an hour, I easily made between three-and-a-half to four mph heading southwest about forty-five degrees off the wind. The light wind had very little gusting, and I easily trimmed the sails to point high enough to clear two small islands off to port, my left, and proceed up the lake toward Three Sisters Islands.

The wind began to vary in strength, and Cassandra responded, heeling about 15 degrees and leaping forward nearly to full hull speed of six miles per hour. This lasted five minutes or so and she would settle back down as the wind slowed. This process repeated many times along our route. An occasional gust or change in the direction of the wind did little to disturb Cassandra’s drive toward the islands, though it had me pulling in on the sheets to trim the sail a time or two. We went on this way, remaining on the same tack, that is with the sail to port and wind to starboard, to the right off the bow, for nearly two hours. Finally, we changed direction, tacking and rounding about near the island, then steering a course back toward the marina.

The entire time we were out, dark clouds moved slowly overhead, with only a few gaps where the sun could pop its head through to say, “Hello.” Only a few fishing boats hung around the shores, and one family towing kids on a tube behind a small powerboat sped happily past. One large cruiser moved quickly across my bow, leaving a large wake, which Cassandra bound over as if she were a horse jumping a fence. Or perhaps Cassandra was dreaming of the ocean, and the waves offshore. I think she wants to sail the seas, and only hope she’ll take me as her crew. The other sail boat I’d seen earlier came nearby once and we exchanged greetings as he rounded a buoy I’d just pasted, perhaps preparing for a race or just having fun. His two small children, bundled in life jackets, stood along the stern rail, and waved.

The sail, yesterday, was peaceful. It’s often like that during the week days, unlike the weekends when so many boaters are out. The clouds made it feel a little cooler, too, blocking the intense rays of the sun. It was a nice morning. I like the water, both lakes and ocean. I like being on the water and I like being in the water. I always have. There’s something soothing about the water. Water is unpredictable, too, untamed. Yet it brings me back to a peaceful place where I find a measure of refreshment. Spending some moments such as those yesterday, sailing, open my ears to hear what the Lord would speak to me through the His words recorded by the Apostle Paul so long ago:

I [Paul]therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of

the Spirit in the bond of peace.

Ephesians 4:1-3

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

Off on a Tangent & The Pond

The week before last, after writing about rain, I read a news article and took up the charge of writing about its subject. Then I left for a week’s holiday with my wife’s family up North, in Yankee Country. We celebrated Fourth of July together. Returning, I took up the topic at hand. But it wasn’t going anywhere. It seems like I just got off on a tangent, leaving the Spirit of G-d back in the rainy day somewhere.

Earlier this morning the day began with some blue sky and spoke of a sunny day, despite the weather forecast. Now, a couple hours into the day, it is heavily overcast. The NOAA weather forecasts have been close to accurate lately. As foretold yesterday, lightning and thunder closed out the day and lots of rain soaked the garden quite nicely. Even the pond filled to its maximum level.

The pond’s been in about a month now. It isn’t a large pond, really. Oddly shaped with the widest part about ten feet and about twelve feet in the longest. At night a chorus of frogs belts out a tuneless song. Tadpoles swim below the lily pads, some now growing legs. They will soon join the chorus, adding their voices. Eventually we plan to add gold fish to the pond. We’ve added some bog plants, sitting on a shallow ledge that encircles the pond. Bog plants sit in water, with their soil just below the surface. Three lily plants are on another lower ledge toward the middle of the pond. Before the fish, though, we need to drop a large flat rock on a ledge so that it hangs over the deepest part, which is about four feet deep. This will provide a place out of the sun for the fish to stay cool in the summer, and to hide from herons that will feed on them. Also, we are still getting the pond’s natural balance to take hold. At first algae bloomed filled the water with its green haze. I added a bit of natural bacteria to the water, and it is collecting in the filter. A pump forces water through the filter. The algae cleared rapidly as the bacteria decomposed the dying blooms. Algae remains trapped in the filter now, and the bacteria keeps it from getting out of hand. The water is clear, though now we can see the bottom and some leaves and such that have fallen in the pond. We’ll have to clear that stuff too.

Outside the pond, along one side, we planted herbs that will last through the winter, mint and oregano. There are other plants along the other sides. They, too, will last through the winter, to rebloom in the summer. My wife says the garden is done, now, and we can sit on the deck and enjoy. But by this time of year that is nearly impossible; the no-see-ums and the mosquitoes are thick out there. The spring is still the nicest season down here in Georgia. The cool nights prevent the bugs from getting bad, and the warm days carry over to the evening hours making it quite pleasant. Next spring, then, we’ll enjoy the pond as we’ve enjoyed the rest of the garden.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

It’s Raining Today

When we were kids, growing up in California, we would sing on the school bus. On rainy days, we’d sing “Rain, Rain, Go Away. Come Again Another Day!” I don’t know why. I’m sure we just didn’t appreciate the rain. Maybe it’s that rain so often has a negative image, like the expression, “Rain on my/your/our/the Parade.” Folks up in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, must be getting pretty sick of rain and its associated flooding. But down here in Georgia, the soft rain this morning is appreciated. Not only does it cool things down somewhat, though making it more humid, it waters the ground that has gone without for a week now.

Sure, a perfect rain would begin in the late evening and continue softly dropping an inch or so until the early morning hours. It wouldn’t interfere with the daily lives of millions of folks all scrambling to make it to work on time. A fresh rain like today will leave the roads slick for a while today. Yet, while I empathize with commuters–been there, done that–I still love to watch the rain gently fall on the garden. I don’t mind walking in the rain, either. Except perhaps those sudden downpours that drench despite rain jacket and hood. No, I do not carry or use an umbrella; that’s just too English. I’m of Good Welsh stock on my Mother’s side, which means I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and don’t have blue blood; I have, indeed, music in my soul and poetry flowing through my veins.

Rain is water. And I love water. While it isn’t the source of life, as many scientist like to say, it is certainly essential. Humans can go many weeks without eating food, and some, like me trying to lose twenty pounds, can go many more weeks. But we need water to exist. Like in three days we’ll perish if we don’t drink of water. We dry up.

We dry up physically without enough water. We dehydrate. If you pinch your flesh between two fingers, softly gathering the skin together, then release, it quickly moves back into shape. When you are dehydrated, your skin just stays puckered for a while. Dehydration dries us up, and makes us weak. There’s a spiritual correlation to dehydration. It’s worst than physically drying up. Like a the skin test, spiritual dehydration makes us pucker up, too. Our demeanor is sour, agitated. We wither, like a plant in the sun, drooping over spiritually. There’s a saying, “One Week without Prayer makes One Weak.” Prayer, the Word of G-d, praise and worship, thanksgiving, it’s all fellowship with G-d. Without that, we dry up.

That’s pretty much what kept happening in Israel, during the Temple Days. The people would forget about G-d and things would begin to go terrible wrong. They’d listen, at last, to a new Judge or a new king, and return to the LORD.

We don’t live in a theocracy, though. Once upon a time in America, we were a Christian nation and while we’ve had many and varied denominations, we worshiped the same G-d, the G-d of Israel. Those days are gone now. Some say that’s a good thing. But even then there was no one leader that we all looked toward that would lead us back to G-d if we strayed too far away. The secular government, while made up of Christians, mostly, had separated the political from the religious. We have a history of this separation of Church and State. And it’s really worked out pretty well. We don’t yet have a political ruler that also tells us how and whom to worship. That’s good thing. But it also leaves us with out a shepherd to call our attention, our focus back upon our Lord.

How do we get back into right communion with G-d after staying away? What will prompt us, remind us? For jsut like dehydration can come upon us easily on a hot day, we can move away from our Lord easily to, without even really noticing it until we’ve drifted a ways.

Water.

great rain skirt — Photo credit: gregglesworth

When we pour a glass of water, crisp, clear water, we should think of G-d. We ought think perhaps of the well outside Shecham where our Lord Y’shuaJesus asked a woman for cup of water to drink. When it’s raining, it can remind us of the Living Water that the Lord said he’d give to all who ask of Him. A pond or pool or lake can remind us of John who baptized in the Jordan River, or of the pool by which a crippled man awaited healing. The sea reminds us that the Earth is covered mostly in water. We must be moved by the ocean’s power, majesty, and vastness. Our minds must turn to our Creator, reminded that He, too, is all powerful, majestic, and everywhere and close at the same time.

Water. Baptized in water. Baptized in Spirit.

Lord Bless, Keep, Shine. . .