Moments

  Today, I was tired and for the most part stayed in a somewhat darkened house.  Numerous things were tried to make me feel better, to be more motivated, less lethargic, more hopeful, and less apathetic.  Foods and sleeping didn't seem to do much but consume time and bloat me. I am going outside.  The sun is shining, and it is still and hot. Hope lights up. I start moving.  I am splitting wood, breathing harder.   There is a feeling of  alive coming awake within me.  This is supposed to be my post-treatment bad crash day and it had been until I started moving and coming awake under the sun.   Life can be like the crash day, dark, lethargic, with fallen hopes.  But the Son is the Light, the Light of the world, and when we walk with Him, we will not walk in darkness but under the Light of the Lord.  To find the true Light, we must go outside of ourselves, outside of the darkness our limited vision that our small world has cr...

  DOWN THE RIVER WITHOUT A LIGHT   This is a piece I wrote many, many years ago, immediately after the experience described within this passage.      I tried to stay down the river tonight, but the mosquitoes ran me off.   All I had for a light was a flashlight with fast-fading batteries.   They faded completely.   I had to come about seven or eight uninhabited miles over a low river, full of snags, sandbars, and rock piles.   Surprisingly, I navigated the river blindly without hitting one log, rock, or sandbar.   Feeling my way up the river in the blackness, I had to trust to luck; no, not really luck.   Somewhere, something guided me.   I was surprised when huge logs would go brushing by, missing the boat by only a few feet.   Time and time again, I narrowly missed something I could not see.    Quite a scary thrill it is, coming up the river without a light, trusting only to faith.   Then again, wh...

  I was getting my cancer treatment when this neat-looking lady sat down in the chair beside me to get her own treatment.  She wasn't hard to talk to.  She sort of beamed hope from her smile and her demeanor.   We chatted about normal things, but soon the conversation came to our issues at hand- cancer.  Softly and plainly, she told me she had terminal lung cancer.  She didn't wince or fret in telling me the details, and she finished with a genuine smile that told me that, for her, God has got this. The conversation deepened as we talked of heaven and the peace of God in our lives.  She seemed healthy enough at the moment, but she seemed almost ready to go there.  She was an inspiration with her soft and gentle tone and the peaceful smile when she talked of heaven and when God would make all things new.  She didn't complain and say "why me," nor did she seem to have many regrets.  She smiled often and genuinely. She made my day. Pra...

  So, you want the freedom to hate religion, the freedom from religion?  OK.     But will you give the same freedom to those who have it, who practice it?  Oftentimes,   Christian freedom brought persecution for their faith. Is this because oftentimes they didn't live up to the faith they professed? Or was it because people of faith made them uncomfortable?  And then there is one faith persecuting another faith of a different doctrine.  All who believe will fail at living out their faith.  It goes with the territory of trying to be something better and higher than we were to God and the true exercise of our faith.   So it is worse to fail at trying than succeed at doing nothing? So if you fail by not trying to be anything, there is no shame or condemnation, but why persecute?  Why not just let the people of faith, any faith, just be happy with their own delusions as long as there is no injury to others? ...

  After some days of restricted breathing, I can breathe freely again.  There was some music playing, and I took it in with my breathing in and out.  It felt so good to be clear.  Then I breathed through my nose, and it went smoothly.    For this time in my life, God has restored the breath of life within me, and I find myself peaceful and so grateful.   Then I realized that, because of restricted breathing, because of the agony and frustration, I find myself more grateful to God than if I had never had a problem with breathing. Hardship brought me closer, relief, and knowing where and who it came from finds me grateful. Being grateful brings me peace, not because I believe things will always be great and there will never be restricted breathing for me again.   No, peace comes from gratitude, sure, but it comes from adding "nevertheless" in answer to whatever God brings me to.

  When Paul was struck down by the Lord Jesus on the road to Damascus, he first asked Who is this?  When Jesus identified Himself, Paul needed say nothing more than, "What would you  have me do?" Before Paul even knew the plan, the cost, or where he was being sent, he was yielded.  His first act was surrender, and his first breath as a new man is a question of obedience.  There was no  bargaining or interest in self-preservation; it was the response of a person who had been undone and remade in a moment. When I thought I was undone and maybe going to die, I surrendered too, right there in the MRI tube at the hospital.  And, I bet Paul wondered like I did. Am I going to survive this?  If I survive, Lord, what would you have me to do?  I was undone and remade to serve God with whatever the rest of my life looked like.  God didn't give Paul an action plan for the rest of his life.  His instructions were just to go to this certain place...

 T hursday before Good Friday.  The upper room was secured for the Passover meal.  Jesus was teaching in Jerusalem.  The Passover meal was prepared.  There is a sense of heaviness and anticipation, and he talks of betrayal.  At sundown, when it was time for the Passover meal, Jesus washed the disciples' feet.  The betrayal was announced, and Judas left. The Lord's Supper is initiated: Take, eat, this is my body, this is the cup of the new covenant."  Then Jesus embarked on some of His most intimate teachings for the disciples and for us as well.  It is a farewell discourse, with a new commandment, that we are to love one another, with a promise of the Holy Spirit, with vine and the branches teaching, with warnings of persecution, and His prayer for the disciples and all future believers. Then they sang a hymn and walked to the Mount of Olives.  He then takes Peter, James, and John deeper into the garden and prays three times, "If it be p...

  Recently, it was my father's birthday.  Most years, I put his old boat in the water, get in it, and reminisce over the fine times we had together in that boat.  I remember that foggy river we traveled down at daylight, and his look when we got to that first throwline, and it had a large tug on it.  The struggle for me to net those large fish and the shared joy when the fish flapped back and forth in the bottom of the boat.   And there were times we just filled the back of that boat up with big catfish, and he smiled a smile I can still see as I paddled the boat now around the pond.  But it is only a pond now.  Life is not a wilderness sort of river you travel miles down to run lines.  Now, in the pond, the boat just goes around in circles until I pull it up on the bank and go about a life as limited as paddling in circles in the pond.   Shouldn't it be, though?  Doesn't life drift away like that?  I am decades older now,...

  Everyone who has run or biked a sizable hill knows the feeling.  At first, it isn’t too bad. Momentum carries you into the first part of the incline.  “This hill ain’t so bad!”     That is sort of how it is with youth.   Things come easily.   If we are blessed, the hill goes on for us; they keep coming at us.      Into the hill, the legs start to strain, and the breathing is getting more labored.   The arms have to pump harder to help out.   Now you see upon looking up that the hill seems so much longer and steeper than it did before—and harder. Yes, it gets harder almost with each step. So at this stage of life, the gloves start coming off for the youth. It goes on and on, pedal stroke upon pedal stroke, and we seem to be barely moving.  Dig down.  This is where the rubber meets the road.   We are youth growing up, becoming men and women in the real world.  Then, it seems, as we begin to approach the...

  They said I had AFIB and was at high risk of stroke if I don't take blood thinners.  They said that on blood thinners, I should be careful not to incur a serious wound, as the bleeding might be hard to stop.  They said my heart rate was too low and I could die in my sleep at any time.  They said all the plant-based eating and exercise, with no smoking,  no alcohol, and trying to get plenty of rest, means little, as I was like all the rest in this condition, with essentially one foot in the grave and doctor-dependent.  My whole life future was articulated in a 10-15 minute doctor consultation.   I could have believed maybe I didn’t have long to live. But, they didn't really know that.  God does.  The lack of confidence in the medical profession and the dire prospects predicted by them for my life drove me straight to God.  I considered that I might be getting prepared to meet Him, but I was peaceful about it.  God and I go...

  The hawk flew low and into the wind on this clear day.  He screamed defiance at the world below as he made his way into the strong wind.  Many times, he screamed as his flight carried him directly over my head.  Quite unexpectedly, I felt a sense of awe for this bird’s audacity and his spirit.    Awe turned to envy; envious of the truly free.   Am I but a trained falcon; tethered by a cord, tasting limited episodes of freedom on a short leash?   The wild hawk takes his own chances and pays his own dues.   Many nights he is cold; he is sometimes hungry; most times alone; but he is always free.   Then the envy turned to a slight touch of sadness for all that’s been lost.  

  Shouldn’t have done it.   Knew better.   But “want to get this done” took over.   This pasture needs mowing, and I want to finish it today.   My tractor wouldn’t work.   How can I get this done?   Oh yeah, borrow my friend’s tractor.   He said, “Just come and get it anytime.”   He’s gone for a few days.   Why not?   Because he is a picky-picky about stuff, guaranteed to find something you did to his tractor you shouldn’t have.   The offer was a trap, and you know it.   But he’s not home.   And you need to get this pasture mowed.   I just couldn’t seem to help myself.   I was incensed to get that pasture mowed today or that night, as it was getting late. So I drove over to his place about five miles away.   I started his tractor up and drove it to my place.   I noticed the key was a little loose in the ignition, but it seemed to be holding up well.   It was just getting dark when I st...

  Do our circumstances determine our attitude?  Is the weather in our lives the determinant of how we feel about life, how we embrace life, how we see God? Do we resent having to go through all these hardships when you supposedly gave your heart and life to a loving God?   Are we living by feeling rather than faith? Or, are we content in our faith no matter the circumstances?  Are we at peace, and like Paul, who said he learned that in whatever state he was in, to be content? In doing so, do we move closer to a life lived by faith? Have we fully submitted our lives to God and trust God, no matter what?  It's not that easy sometimes. It's a learning and growing experience, and it means allowing God's power to  come into our weakness so He can give us the power to "do all things through Him that strengtheneth me."  Amen

    In our darkest moments, we don’t need solutions or advice.   What we yearn for is simply human connection- a quiet presence, a gentle touch.   These small gestures are the anchors that hold us steady when life feels like too much.   Please don’t try to fix me.   Don’t take on my pain or push away my shadows.   Just sit beside me as I work through my own inner storms.   Be the steady hand I can reach for as I find my way My pain is mine to carry, my battles mine to face.   But your presence reminds me I’m not alone in this vast, sometimes frightening world.   It’s a quiet reminder that I am worthy of love, even when I feel broken.   So, in those dark hours when I lose my way, will you just be here?   Not as a rescuer, but as a companion. Hold my hand until the dawn arrives, helping me remember my strength.   Your silent support is the most precious gift you can give.   It's a love that helps me remember who I...

  Inside me is another person.   That person is greater than myself.   He is the person I aspire to be. The person I could be, but haven’t reached quite high enough yet.      My performances and conduct are constantly being monitored by him for his approval or disapproval.   He is not a conscience.   Right or wrong are involved, but not in the traditional sense.   What is traditionally called right or wrong is often contradicted by my other self.   I find myself doing the right thing according to him and the wrong thing according to traditional concepts of right and wrong.     Pleasing everyone else is not nearly as important to me as pleasing this “other self,” this higher self, that I am called to be.   This self is hard to live with when I let him down.   Therefore, my performance and or behavior is not necessarily judged in terms of others, but in respect of how good he thinks I can or should be.   ...

 Read this in a Charles Stanley brochure called "A Quiet Heart."   I found it inspirational and encouraging as well as challenging.  "The Lord isn't asking you to move mountains.  He's asking you to be faithful in the little things, to be present where He's placed you.  The outcome isn't your job.  Showing up and letting Him work through you is." Showing up and letting Him work through me; my challenge and my calling this day. It would seem to do so I would need to surrender more of myself to Him.  In fact, I need to surrender it all.  Like the song says, "I surrender all.  All to Him I owe."  I owe all, and that is the quantity to be faithful; I must surrender.  Jesus paid it all, not some, not almost all.  He surrendered all.   Lord help me surrender all this day .

  The day started cold and clear in central Texas.  A calm day with a deep blue sky and fall crispy in the air.  The kind of day that makes the calves run and play:  the kind of day that is living in the country at its best.  Cutting firewood with a lifelong friend, bending the back, swinging the axe, good conversation, laughter, heavy wood, and the feel and sound of the wood cracking at the strike of the axe.  Ah, what a great axe.  It has been in the shed, silent and still, for over a year, but today it is the star performer, an object of praise and appreciation.  There was no stopping the work. This day, like the relentlessly fading daylight, just won’t last.  As dusk settles, quietly bringing crisp fall air, only a pile of lifeless wood and a settled place inside ourselves is left to commemorate this day.  It was a good day; indescribably good, without a good reason for it being so.  Without a known reason, reflection upon the...

  Be the man you have always wanted to be," That is the wording of some spam sent to me, suggesting I get their product to pump up my masculinity, so to speak. I smiled. But something about the phrase made me think a little deeper. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Setting aside the masculinity stuff, I pondered the question. I thought back over all I have done; all the places within and without that I have been, and the direction I am heading; the path I am on. Am I the man I have always wanted to be? Goodness! But I have taken a lot of wrong turns; done some things I needed a lot of forgiveness for. I have made enough mistakes and fallen often enough that I just have to laugh at myself. But, I have been forgiven, and I have been freed; picked up and set aright, and put back on course. Now, with most of my lifetime behind me, my days are drawing closer to the finish line. It brings forth the vision of me at the end of a race. It is night. Lights are beaming all around....

  Is it hard sometimes to trust that God has a plan?  When all you can see is pain, discomfort, and discouragement, how do you believe it will turn out for the best according to God's will? According to God's will, it sometimes seems so indistinct.  You just can't get your mind around that when your back is killing you, and you haven't gotten any real sleep in days.  God's will, what is that when you are down to your last thread of hope for your life? Maybe only a thread is all the  hope  you need if  you can trust God with enough faith, to believe the impossible for yourself, to accept "to live and truly take it in that "to live is Christ, to die is gain."  

  My granddaughter was playing on a big pile of dirt, enjoying the simplicity of things that children seem to find so easily. We were on my road that led through the woods. I was there with her, dozing in my truck to protect and defend if necessary, or just to watch and care. We were safe here in this part of the world; this little island of security in an insecure and unsettled world.  My eyes opened when I heard a voice. It was my granddaughter's voice; a quiet tone, singing  I am going to my Father's house.  There in the woods on this dirt pile, with her grandfather being near, she felt safety, security, and comfort in the midst of all that is wrong in the world. We are His children, and even in this place and time, our Father "neither slumbers nor sleeps." He is watching over us as we play out our lives on our little hills of this world. We are His: "in this world but not of it," and our ultimate security is not our little islands in a forest but withi...

  One morning, as I was running early, I started to feel weak.  The legs felt trembly like they were made of Jello.  My strength was gone, and I felt like I used to on the last mile of a marathon: completely spent.  There was no good place to lie down on the side of the road, but I really wanted to badly.  But I knew that if I stopped, it would be doubly hard to get up and moving again. Regardless of how I felt,   I must keep moving back to the vehicle.    So I kept moving back toward the vehicle, one arduous step at a time, until I made it. Life can be like that.  Life drops a bonk on us sometimes and we get a Jello-legged spirit. We want just to lie down and quit: escape at all costs.  But God did not call us to lie down.  He told us to "run the race that is set before us."  He didn't say run the race if you feel good and are not hurting.  He didn't say drop out and escape the pain.  He called us to run our race f...

  Do you sense God's presence during painful times, or does He seem so far away?  Does prayer make a difference when you are in pain?  Does your faith help you remain steadfast and hopeful in painful times?    Times like these, it isn't easy to trust that God has a plan. It is hard to lean on God when you don't know if you will survive the night or not.  So what do you do when the reality of your mortality confronts you with pain and agony you cannot completely control?   What prayers can comfort you in these times of uncertainty?  How do you keep trusting when you are struggling so? Pain is a reality revealer. It reveals that we really cannot control much of anything for any length of time.  And for me, it brought me to my figurative knees that life or death, pain or comfort was ultimately up to God.  And in so doing—praying in the pain, accepting it for as long as God let it remain, for whatever reason He brought me to face i...

  The journey.  Isn't life just a journey from here to there?  Along the way, we age, get sick, and die. The journey ends.  Not much to it, right? Wrong. Indeed, some days, the process, the journey, is painful.  But along the way God is shaping us, communing with us, and giving us God given purpose. But, how do we remain trusting when we are struggling?  How can we possibly be strengthened in painful times?   Sometimes it's hard to keep going through the struggle and the pain and keep trusting that we can trust God. But here is where the rubber meets the road in our faith.  When can we trust God in the dark.  When we can trust Him through the struggles and pain, and still praise Him in the storm at the end of the day, we can know we know God.   And, He will make for us a better day, where there is "no more night, no more pain."

 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.   II Tim 4:6 Sometimes, due to recent events, I think this is the case.  But sometimes not. Turning this into a question  for the not-so-sure, one might say,  "Lord, IF I am ready to be offered and IF the time of my departure is at hand, ------- Come Lord Jesus." But IF not.  It could read like this, "Lord, I am ready to be offered, but if the time of my departure is NOT YET at hand. What would you have me do?"

  There was not a breath of air.   The humid stillness hanging in the silence of the forest, tense in its breathlessness. Amplified by the quiet, a loudness suddenly crashed about in the limbs of a large tree.   A large dead branch was tumbling noisily through the other branches to end its days above the earth.     What made the limb fall at this one moment?   Surely, not wind or gust or freeze.   Perhaps, it was just time, that’s all: just a time, the moment, the breaking point when decay had mitigated the limb’s strength that it could not support its own weight-----Yes, perhaps, it was time.   And in life, there just sometimes comes a time to shed off the dead and rotting in life and let it crash to the ground.   Sometimes it is time to give more wholly to God and let the things rotting fall.    

  I n a world seemingly convinced that being hyper-busy is the equivalent of being hyper-important.   But w hen you get down to life in the nitty-gritty, when your health starts to fail, when you wonder if you will see the next Christmas, busy takes a back seat.  And the things that were more important all along come front and center.  You wondered why you worried about such trivial matters and wasted time chasing bubbles with busy.   And the truth is, how many people are dead and gone and forgotten and their busy pursuits gone with them.  Do we really think we are doing much that is really important or lasting?   The only truly important things we will ever do in life are what we do in response to God’s calling upon our live s.