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MEETING THE JESUS TRAIN

    So much fuzzy emptiness at this age.  The older I get the more I realize I don't know.  Finally having wisdom enough to know that I don't know, faith comes much easier.  Earthly life seems like the train that left the station without me, leaving me holding on to my suitcase, watching a younger world clank away noisily down the tracks without me.   Oh, it isn't bad.  I have my suitcase of valuables, my friends, family, but supremely, my relationship with God.  And, that relationship grows more and more intimate watching the train that once was my life, disappearing down the tracks without me.   Of course, I often wish for what I once had and will never have again, Of course, I wish I had a little more life to live, a little more time on the train, though I am not sure why. It's natural, I guess. Sure, there are things I wish I had done, and things I wished I had done better, but that doesn't seem to matter as much now.  I filled my bucket list but can'

THE CROSS IS FOR ME

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This cross is in a field very near my road to the house - easily seen by visitors.   A visitor once asked me who is the cross for.  It must have looked like sort of a makeshift graveyard.  I said the cross is for me.  Now there are several crosses on my place here just as visible.  And, all the crosses are for me.  Selfish behavior? Just a moment. The crosses are not some sort of ornaments celebrating my faith in Jesus, or my allegiance to the Gospel.  Those crosses are not to be as billboards to advertise what a great Christian I am.   No, the crosses are for me, because I am just a man, weak and fragile on my own.  I easily forget about Jesus and succumb to the world's temptations, of self-seeking, consumptive behavior.  I too often yield to the pride that could so easily destroy my witness.  I need Jesus.  I need the cross to get me through this gauntlet called life until He takes me home.   When I see my cross it reminds me who and what I am and who the real I AM is.  It remind

Step Up to the Privilege

                    "What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer." How blessed we are in these uncertain times to have a sure and certain God.   How blessed we are to be in a position to stand against the wind for God.  Not everyone has a cause to wake up to.  Not everyone has a reason that makes sense to keep on keeping on, when all looks wasted and lost.   Not everyone has that infusion of heavenly minded vitality added to their lives.   Of course, the course and the calling are no easy road.  There are so many naysayers out there and then there is the tough job of working on yourself, to be more like Jesus.  We can't do that ourselves and have to humbly acknowledge where the real power comes from.  God gives us the strength to face our own stuff and in doing so make a live worth living and worthy of giving away.  We have such a great opportunity to serve the cause of Christ.  These are the days we live and die for. My prayer is for God help us to step up to t

Mighty Man of Valor

  Is it real or is it just me yearning to complete an unfulfilled dream? The ironman effort seems so far away now, with so many obstacle in front between me and completion.  I want to go peacefully into the night but a light keeps coming on.  It's like a fire I can't put out and I pray for guidance, full knowing I should NOT go after another ironman.  But, it seems I keep getting those answers everywhere I turn.  "Don't quit,"  "God equips you with what you need."  "God is calling you to trust Him that He will see you through."  And on and on it goes. Everywhere there is a "God wants this" message and I don't know if it is Him or from below and bent on my destruction and my family's as well. What a risk that would be?  And too, perhaps it is what I want to see and hear so I can blame God on my poor decision?  That kind of self centered self deception would not be serving God but only myself.    I feel like Gideon hearing from

I Have Jesus Even When I'm Invisible

“ My wife died you know?”  The one-time British sailor squinted up at me through ninety year old eyes as if to see if I were going to listen before he went on.  There was pain and need in those eyes.   “She was beautiful too; pretty as a picture; pretty as a picture, and played the piano like an angel.  Sixty years we been together.  She was beautiful.  Played the piano like an angel.  I miss her you know.  I got nobody now.  People don’t care about old folks like me.  They don’t even seem to see me.  It’s like I am some  kinda piece of garbage or something cause I’m  old and worthless now.  I miss her you know. She was beautiful.  Played the piano like an angel.” I am not too far from old and worthless myself.   Some say I am already worthless.      And for all the times I have gutted out races; all the times I have raised my arms in joy at some finish line,   for all the awards I have won and all my other moments of accomplishments, projects completed, gardens raised, pastures mowe

WHAT YOU SEE IS ALL YOU GET

Pathetic smoke and mirrors. a celebration of an empty life of self-indulgence and self-worship. Sad in its impart, disgusting in that lives are squandered hopelessly, haplessly on worship of their futile empty lives.   God had a much better plan than that.  And,  a heart for God feels that empty sadness brought about by the fractured lives, supported only by a sort of smiling anguish with which to cover the desperation in their souls, craving the Presence of a true Living God to  reside within them in the place in their hearts God was intended to fill. It's all make believe colored crepe paper that melts and loses its color in  the rain.  Aloneness brings the whispers of unfilled hopes and tortured dreams.  Daylight brings a new face to put on to hide the pain.  And what you see is all you get. "Our real selves are waiting for us in Him."  C. S. Lewis