Moments

The days are short and my seven mile run ran out of time. I was on my trails in the woods and it was dark. All I had was the outline of the beaten path to guide me. Running at night like this is sort of other worldly. Not being able to see my feet that well, it was like running over the earth rather than on it; a kind of magic carpet ride in the dark. I had done this trail many times so without seeing, I knew where the trip hazards were. Two large shapes loomed across the trail just ahead: deer, who scampered off a short distance to watch this crazy human run in the dark. The path God has set before us is well tread, the hazards well-marked. And, even in the dark times when life seems to run out of light, we still can know the Way.

We all want to leave a mark, a memory, a thought, for all who might remain. But why? Isn't that an ego experience, to leave something of us alive here on earth? Is this just a thinly disguised attempt to avoid death? In the secular and in the long term, we will not avoid death. It is hard to accept our own present, and certainly future obscurity. The song goes, "will all who come behind us find us faithful?" But reality suggests that unless we are one of the very, very few, the ones who come behind us won't find us at all. Except for a few, what we will leave is a nameless influence. The habits, tendencies and beliefs we imprinted through influence, by our own force of character is all that will remain. And in death there is not ego. We will most likely not be given credit for that influence we leave. And why should we? The habits, tendencies, and beliefs we left are just echoes of the imprints someone nameless left us. We won't get credit and...

It was such a beautiful sunset. The evening was one of those breathe-in experiences. These are times and weather I love. And, though I have a broken hand, and things could be better for a member of my family, I am at peace. No, it can't be explained or understood, but it's there as surely as the sun sets and rises again. In the night now, out in the woods there are all kinds of sounds. Perhaps the wild hogs, the bobcats, an armadillo rooting into the earth, all kinds of uncertainty are out there in the dark just as they are in the journey of our lives. But God is with me. I know that. I know too, it is going to be exciting; sometimes it's going to be scary, but take heart, walk the dark; Emanuel: God is with us.

Have you ever had a message just hit you dead center? This below pretty much speaks to me, dead on. Why should I continue to struggle to do this ironman stuff, knowing I am an old, no talent person, ill qualified for this pursuit? And why is a big question? How can God be glorified by me burying myself in this when, most likely: I will fail. I must confess that I can't see the end of it. Perhaps, what is being trained most is my faith and obedience? Nevertheless "God isn't looking for impressive people; He wants willing ones who will bow the knee in humble submission. Being weak and ordinary doesn't make you useless. Rather, it positions you for a demonstration of divine power in your life. He takes insignificant ones and delights in making them great. Have you ever considered that your lack of ability, talent, or skill is the ideal setting for a great display of Christ's power and glory? If you are willing to submit to His leading and venture into the s...

My grandchildren love off-the-wall-things. Today, I let them spray shaving lotion on my desk, smear it around, draw in it, and eventually clean it up. My youngest granddaughter drew our house. She had all the parts and even had all of us in it, to include my recently deceased mother. To those that came in, she took joy in naming the parts of the house and the people in it. Then I asked her, "You love this old house, don't you?" "Uh huh," she answered "Why" She studied a moment and said, "Because you're in it?" Sometimes I wonder how much usefulness I have left here in this world and then I hear something like this. I am loved, I am needed, and someone's world is made better because I am in it. Thanks God. I needed that.

She was 102 when she died after surviving assisting living residence and two nursing homes for six and a half years. My mother was tough. In the assisted living, at one time or the other, there had been bad food, flies in dining room, roaches running wild, mice crawling all over, cricket swarms, inattentive care, lost hearing aids, heating and A/C units that often failed, and falls from which she lay on a hard floor for hours waiting on aides to find her. In the nursing homes, she survived many wounds to her legs from aides trying to transfer her to her wheelchair. She subsisted on food that only someone with a sturdy set of jaws and teeth could eat. She made it through being left unattended in her wheelchair for hours. She recovered time and again from the blistered bottom and the consequent urinary tract infections caused by being left soaked in her urine for hours. She made it through quarantine for a bowel virus caused by antibiotics. But finally she could not overcome ...

My mother is old, quite ill, incoherent, in pain, and still she lingers partly in life; partly in death. In response I fret, eat too much, worry, remember, and become conflictive to incompetent caregivers. What a time to go through; sick at heart and mind. But, in the midst of this haze of despair there is opportunity for witness. What difference does my faith have in how I go through this? What difference has God made? It is a time, an opportunity, to prove; to witness, that indeed, He is able: able to keep me from falling though I stumble. And some who have heard me proclaim my faith will be watching to see if faith fails or is lived out, to see what difference God has made? My troubled times could be my best witness; my finest hour for God. Do I "know how to be abased and how to abound?" Or, do I just know how to talk about it? Do "I know how to be hungry and how to be full?" Or is my allegiance just a Christian tattoo that I wear on my skin but not hold...