Moments

  As I ponder whether or not to act my age and give up vigorous activities, I somehow think that if I just stop doing these things, then I will be safe from all that COULD happen to me.  It's an apple in the Garden of Eden.  It is a tempting thought to kick back risk nothing and wait to die on time.  But the apple is rotten.  Safety in this world doesn't exist.  It is an illusion. You can lock all the doors in your life, set your alarms, and still have a tragedy befall you.  And I think making yourself safe and depending on our conservative, noncommittal, and cautious approach is a departure from an abiding faith. Our Hope, our safety, is in Jesus Christ only.  "All other ground is sinking sand," the song goes.  We cannot find security in the natural and secular world.  We find security only in the arms of Jesus.   And yes, we can lose everything in a disaster and yes, we can get hurt or even killed out there trying in the worl...

 Early morning in the county and there is a peace wisped in with the thin fog. It is quiet, serenely quiet, and the feeling is of a massage of the soul.   The silence is slightly broken by coyotes howling close by.  The wildness in their cries is not an interruption but a different verse in the song of morning peace.  The coyotes howl again in defiance of the civilized world and now the neighbors' dogs bark back their excuses.   The faint smell from a fire built last night is coming through the open window with the cool air. My world is at peace.   Thank you, God, for being here. Praise God.

  God seemed like He lived across the country but now He seems to live next door.  I love the closeness.  But I know that  a large part of the vivid nature of the closeness is because of the former distance.  This is good - very, very good. So, good in fact that I don't seem to be able or have to pray like I used to.  The relationship is ongoing.  It is present in the moment.  I guess this the "praying without ceasing," talked about in the Bible. I had a good run in the rain and I was getting closer  but the difficulty I had with a nonbeliever ( previous post) took coming closer to high resolution.  The distance between here and heaven has closed as well.  Heaven is just a few steps next door.  It feels so liberating.  I am so grateful for the small pinch of heaven I've been blessed with to carry me through the tough times that will surely come before I move next door. 

  The other day someone started trying to tell me that, even though he knew I was religious and all that the heaven and hell and God thing was just a bunch of bull to make us feel better. I listened for a few moments.  He has expressed this before but never stayed on it so long, and finally, I did what I should have done all along, long before this.  I defended my faith. I expressed my surety of salvation, and my trust in God as Lord of my life and giver of life.   I told him he was wrong. He told me I was wrong. We departed company.  I  wondered if I could have witnessed better in a manner a little less challenging?  Perhaps, but at the same time though, any remaining doldrums of faith received a shock charge to increased vitality, as I firmly expressed my faith.   I closed any distance to God in a moment.  Sometimes I wonder if sometimes confrontation, even persecution is a tool to enable our faith to come out from hiding from the...

Over the years, running has always had a spiritual aspect to it.  And, some of the most memorable runs were in less than desirable conditions.  I still remember the run my son and I had on a country road when a storm of sorts came in.  It wasn't lightning too bad but the wind was blowing fiercely and the rain was pouring down.  A driver just happened to come by and asked if we needed a ride.  It was very nice of him since we were soaking wet and would have gotten the interior of his vehicle wet.   But we were having fun; a strange kind of exhilaration that difficult situations can induce.  We thanked the man extensively, and with a small smile and shaking of his head, he rolled up his window and drove on.   I've had other great runs in the rain, but none lately.  The elder years find me more tame than I like to see myself.   However, like so many others my age, I seem to find a way to keep passion and risk at bay by doing ...

  Weeds.  What are the weeds that come between us and our vision of the cross and what it means in our lives?   This stump was fitted to have a cross put on it.  However, it was hard to mow close to the stump and weeds grew high around the cross.  In a way it was emblematic of the cross rising and protruding among the weeds of the world, standing higher to give us hope in a weedy world.  Sometimes our lives are a weed patch of our failings, our turning aside from our called purpose to yield to the way of the world.   Out of this weed patch  of a  world, the cross rises boldly proclaiming the Love of God and the eternal hope in the resurrection.   I need to see that cross clearly.  I need to clear the weeds between me and God to get the full impact of that Hope offered in the cross.   Jesus said, " I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoev...

  Ever had a bad patch with God?  Seems that here, right on the eve of Easter, I find God distant.  Looking for causes I wonder if it is because my athletic life went south, or that we have been sick for a month, or that the church has been a disappointment?  I am not sure.  I just know God and I are not as close as once were.   Funny thing though,  I don't believe in Him any the less.  I still love Him and know He loves me.  I will still celebrate the resurrection in a few days.  I believe.   Yes, I believe but I can't seem to touch Him and He touch me where it hurts.  So, I guess this is where faith comes into play; when we believe in the dark when we can't see or feel God; like Jesus on the cross - "my God why have you forsaken me?"   The feeling of being forsaken did not stop His obedience to God.   So there it is.  My calling- believe and obey in the dark.  The light will come. ...