First One Step, and Then Two

I was eleven years old when my younger sister was born. She came along a little later in life for mom and dad. With two older siblings, and experienced parents, she was destined for an extraordinary childhood. She was a toy for my brother and myself. If a baby could remember events from infancy, she could tell you of the time she was laying in my lap, and somehow slipped off onto the floor and bumped her head. Luckily it wasn’t far to the floor. There was no lasting damage, other than the ability later in life to attend college for her doctorate. I’d like to take all the credit for the effect it had on her IQ, but our mother might disagree. Other than the one tumble, my brother and I generally tried to take good care of her. 

It was a family affair making sure she reached her childhood milestones triumphantly. We all took turns at teaching her the necessary skills to become an independent person. One skill encouraged by all members of the family was walking. I remember propping my sister up in front of our refrigerator. Backing a few feet away from her, and holding out my hands, I would try to coax her to step toward me. Her faith in me caused her to give it a try. First one step, and then two, would bring a loud applause and a jubilant celebration. You would’ve thought she had won an olympic medal. 

Days passed by and she became more and more confident. She began taking more and more steps. In no time at all she was toddling all around the house. The hesitancy of a step taken in front of the refrigerator was quickly replaced by confident running feet all over the house. What started as first one step, and then two, became a constant confident walking child. 

Her childhood days have long passed. She now has a three year old of her own. When he was younger she had the joy of propping him up,  backing a few feet away, holding out her hands, and coaxing him to step toward her. First one step, and then two, would bring a loud applause and a jubilant celebration. Again, we have an olympic medalist!

The task of learning to walk is probably done a little different in each family. Some reason the refrigerator worked great for my sister, as well as my children. There never was clutter in front of it, because we were always having to open the door to get stuff out. It seemed to always be a great unoccupied flat surface, from which a child could easily be propped. Those days are long gone, but the memories are forever etched in my heart. 

Trusting family, and friends to take care of them, a child seems to abandon fear as they try a new task and skills. Stepping into the unknown can rattle the best of us, but watching the faith of a child makes me wish I could have such abandonment toward God. 

A friend of mine told me this acronym for ‘faith’. 

Forsaking

All

I 

Take 

Him

I’d heard an acronym similar to this most of my life, except the word ‘Trust’ was used instead of ‘Take’. Personally, I’ve come to prefer using the word ‘Take’. A child steps out in faith to the one holding their arms out to catch them. They totally trust the one encouraging them, and they choose to ‘take’ the first step, and then two. It’s the action of ‘taking’ that shows faith.

In the acronym, the word ‘Him’ represents God. There was a struggle within myself for a couple weeks on this blog. I knew in my head the direction I wanted the blog to go, but in my heart this is a heavy battle within myself. Taking that first step in obedience can make your feet feel like they are in cement. Our hesitancy to step out in faith can be reasons of fear, selfishness, denial, lack of self worth, unworthiness, uncertainty, and others. The very first step in ‘Taking Him’ is salvation (Romans 10:9 NIV, If you declare with you mouth, “Jesus is Lord”, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.) After that, each step ‘Taking Him’ builds upon the first. 

Each step chosen to ‘Take Him’ is not necessarily easier than the previous ones. It’s usually fear that hinders me from taking the first step when He calls me to do something. It takes pushing my fear aside, and responding. To ‘Take Him’ can include spending time on our knees, checking on someone who’s sick, surrendering to the ministry, starting a new ministry, attending church, going on a mission trip, studying God’s word, or whatever the Lord calls us to do. It’s a continual choosing to ‘Take Him’. 

Comfort Found

Two pews up and just to the left is where she was. From my seat I could see she was in deep meditation. The words on the pages lay before her in her lap. She was completely consumed by what she was reading. What was it that had her so drawn in? What was it about the words she was looking at? I couldn't help but notice. She was being affected by what she read. From where I sat, it was a beautiful picture.

I wanted to take her picture, but felt it would be rude to do so and not ask. Getting up out of my seat, I made my way to the end of her pew. Squatting down beside her I told her my intent, and asked if she would mind if I took her picture. She was touched by my asking, and agreed with the picture being taken. Sitting back down behind her, I took several. My heart had been moved, by her heart being moved, by what she was reading in The Book. It's hard to describe what I saw. It was more about what I felt, in her response to The Word, than what I saw. 

How can you explain the power of The Word? The words are old. The application is new. The words have been quoted by the wisest men in the world. The words are read to children. The words are displayed in federal buildings, and national monuments. The words are printed in children's literature. The words have caused wars. The words bring peace. The words are ancient. The words are new everyday. The words convict. The words encourage.

There are many formats by which we have access to The Word. It is in audible or digital format on our tablets, computers, or smart phones. Portions of it is found in magazines, books, and other printed material. It is read by teachers and preachers. There are lectures and classes studying it. TV evangelists proclaim it. The ways to access The Word seems unlimited. One of my favorite ways to access The Word is the exact same as I witnessed two pews up and just to the left. Feeling the weight of each side of the book in my hands as I open it. Hearing the crispness of the page. Smelling the familiar scent. Comfort found.

Stone Hedges, Moats, and the Moon

A friend of mine requested prayer from our group. She said she was spiritually exhausted. Battling a spiritual warfare on behalf of an addicted son had taken it’s toll on her. She came in the room, and looked spent. Looking like she didn’t have much more to give, she knew prayer could give her strength to continue the battle. Those of us in the room loved on her as much as we could. We wanted to offer help. Where do you start when someone feels they are spiritually exhausted? She probably felt she’d reached the end of her rope, and was reaching out. I didn’t know her very well. Prayer was the best thing I could do. My hope was to get to know her better, and be available if there was anything more I could offer. 

Daily spiritual battles are part of a christians life. Some days our battles seem to consume us. We are christians. God is on our side. All we need to do is pray and the problem is fixed, right? Asking for prayer might make us feel inadequate. We are suppose to be strong. Charge into life, like we have a tiger by the tail. Asking for prayer allows others to see our weaknesses. We tend to walk around like we have a suit of armor on. Hard and cold so nothing can penetrate. We are tough. We are independent. 

The vulnerability of taking our guard down to allow someone to see us exposed is scary, to say the least. It’s easier to keep a stone hedge around us, so no one can peer into our unkept life. It’s easier to dig a moat around us, so no one can come visit unless ‘we’ lower our bridge. It’s easier to build our house on the moon, so people can only see us from afar.

I constructed my stone hedge, dug my moat, and built my house on the moon. 

Why?

Perhaps my introverted tendencies started the process. Perhaps some unresolved resentment laid the first stone. Or perhaps it was just easier to keep a guard up rather than exposing my weaknesses, short comings, needs, troubles, failures, sicknesses, hurts, or problems. 

When my friend requested prayer, I was more than happy to pray. She was hurting, and asked for help. Her openness showed her maturity. She knew what she needed, and wasn’t afraid to ask. She let her guard down, and let us see her in a very vulnerable place. I want to be more like her. As I think back to that day, she continues to grow in my eyes. What a woman. What an example. Where is there more power than prayer? She needed God’s help, and asked us to petition God for her need. There was nothing better to do than pray. No casserole, or phone call, text, email, or cup of coffee can have an impact like prayer. My friend understood God was where she needed to take her weakness.

Ephesians 6:18

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 

Philippians 4:6-7

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayers and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

James 5:16

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.

I must confess I don’t pray as often as I should sometimes. It takes desire to pray continually. At times my desire is weak. It takes discipline to pray in all circumstances. Some days I’m just too lazy. It takes humility to admit a need. My pride convinces me I can handle it by myself. It takes being unselfish, turning to the Lord for His strength, and seek Him. There are days my selfish hardheaded stubbornness stands in the way of seeking His help. Still wrapped in human flesh, I fail at times. 

The sight of my friend, and the words she spoke that day, made me think. It’s easy to ask for prayer when our leg is broken, or the car is broke down, or for a child getting married. How about when we are exhausted from fighting a spiritual battle? How about when we are being tempted? How about prayers for a family member who is in trouble with the law? How about prayers when we do something questionable? How about prayers for all those Sunday morning fights? What about those prayers that are difficult to speak? We will hesitate to step out of our comfort zone. It will be hard to open up to those we trust and love, and request prayer for ourself. It will be be hard to open up to those we trust and love, and request prayer for those we love and care for.  Quiet frankly, we may feel like we just can’t do it.

To be courageous like my friend we will have to push our limits. It will be hard. Don’t we want the peace that transcends all understanding, as mentioned in Philippians 4? We need help fighting our spiritual battles. I need help fighting my spiritual battles. Our struggles with our desires, discipline, laziness, pride, selfishness, and hardheaded stubbornness can hinder us in bringing everything to Him, and having that peace. However, we need to remove our stone hedge, fill in our moat, fly back from the moon, and bring all occasions, all requests, every situation, continually to God in prayer, right? Right.

I miss my friend. I haven’t seen her in about a month. She hasn’t been back to class, since she requested prayer. While you are talking to God, if you think of my friend, please pray for God to strengthen her for the spiritual battle she is fighting.

🙏

Our Generation

We were in class on a Sunday morning. A lady mentioned ‘The Greatest Generation’, and how sad it was we were loosing them at a very fast rate. 

(“The Greatest Generation" is a term made popular by journalist Tom Brokaw to describe the generation who grew up in the United States during the deprivation of the Great Depression, and then went on to fight in World War II, as well as those whose productivity within the war's home front made a decisive material contribution to the war effort, for which the generation is also termed the G.I. Generation. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greatest_Generation

The Greatest Generation is the title of Tom Brokaw's 1998 book profiling members of this generation, stemming from his attendance at the D-Day 40th anniversary celebrations. In the book, Brokaw wrote, "it is, I believe, the greatest generation any society has ever produced." He argued that these men and women fought not for fame and recognition, but because it was the "right thing to do.   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greatest_Generation. The greatest generation - Tom Brokaw - Google Boeken. books.google.com)

Our class was in the midst of a discussion on pride, when the comment was made. ‘The Greatest Generation’ in America is definitely a source of pride for our country. Our country will not be the same once this generation is gone. Both sets of my grandparents were a part of this generation. Each of their deaths in 1992, 1993, 1999, and 2012 left a significant hole in our family, for which no one was equipped or qualified to fill the void. I dare say thousands of families feel the same at the loss of their members who are part of the elite group known as ‘The Greatest Generation’. 

A few comments were made on pride and the effects it can have, both good and bad. Pride in oneself can cause someone to perform above average at a job, to push themselves to do better. Pride can also cause sin. This morning we all felt pride knowing people who fell within the time frame of ‘The Greatest Generation’. The label of ‘The Greatest Generation’ is, I suppose, uniquely American.

My life has been relatively short thus far. My years will be but a very small speck on God’s great timeline. 2 Peter 3:8 (NIV) says ‘But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.’ With that, I must say my knowledge of the impact of different generations thru all history is extremely limited. That morning my mind thought about a little bit broader picture. The label given to this special generation made my mind wonder. What would ‘God’ consider ‘The Greatest Generation’ of all mankind? Who would they be?

Could it have been the generation of Israelites which Moses, by obedience, led out of Egypt?

Could it have been the generation of Israelites which Joshua, by faith, entered into the promised land?

Could it be the generation of new converts during the early days of christianity when Paul and others were spreading the gospel, and growing God’s kingdom.

Could it be one of the generations impacted by evangelist Billy Graham during the years of his ministry? 

Could it be the generation affected by Martin Luther and his ninety-five theses?

The events surrounding any of these are significant, and possibly could be worthy of achieving the title of ‘The Greatest’. 

Or just maybe, Could it be us? Could it be our generation? We have media available to share the gospel in remote villages of third world countries. We have satellite TV with gospel channels reaching homes worldwide. Satellite radio stations are playing christian music 24 hours a day. Facebook users can share their testimony worldwide. Amazon provides international purchasing of christian books, bibles, and literature to many countries. Numerous venues are available to spread the gospel to the most remote regions of the world. Hundreds, thousands, and millions are being affected by the unlimited possibilities of spreading the gospel. At our fingertips we have the power to impact a vast audience of people. 

Pause for just a second. As I was writing this, it was time to go to bed. I went to bed and slept for a couple hours, and then woke up. Mid-life has a way of waking me up in the middle of the night with a novelty called ‘night sweats’. During the time awake some nights, I try to take the time and just listen. It seems easier to hear what God has to say, if I’m not talking. During the day can be too noisy, and busy, for me to just listen. As I lay there in the quiet, and praying, this blog post started going thru my head. A couple scriptures came rolling thru my thoughts. The one about God’s ways are higher than our ways: Isaiah 55:9 (NIV) ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’ The other verse was the one I used earlier in this blog, 2 Peter 3:8 (NIV) ‘But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.’

Writing this blog I realized I was trying to put God in a box. I was trying to limit His greatest work to a single generation. The passage in Isaiah 55 reminded me while we can put a constraining label on a specific generation, there are no labels that constrain God. The passage in 2 Peter reminded me, while we put constraints of time on a specific generation, there is no constraint of time for God. Our time here on earth is a different time than Moses, Joshua, Paul, Billy Graham, Martin Luther, and other great trail blazers. Our time is now. This is the time we write our story. There are no labels or time constraints that limit God’s power to move in mighty ways. The God of Moses is my God. The God of Joshua is my God. The God of Paul is my God. The God of Billy Graham is my God. The God of Martin Luther is my God. We are ALL a part of God’s Greatest Generation. 

Today is the day to seize, and make a difference. Get in the race. Get on board. Use your available tools. Embrace these days. This is ‘Our Generation’. Make a difference. Speak it. Youtube it. Tweet it. Blog it. Email it. Instagram it. Copy it. Paste it. Vimeo it. Write it. Post it. Tag it. Share it. 

Both photos include several members of 'The Greatest Generation' in America. Photos are at a ground breaking for a Family Life Center at a church we attended. Photos were taken in the early 1990's. 

Fruit

Arguments erupt with no known cause sometimes. Tempers flare like Mount St. Helens. Words slice and dice the opposer. Voices escalate with the desire to be heard and understood. Fingers are pointed. Eyes turn red. Doors are slammed. Damage is done.

Sound familiar?

As a living and breathing human being, I have both witnessed and participated in such chaos. As a participant, much of the time, my opposer tends to be someone I am very close to. It seems we expect more out of those we care about. With expectations comes disappointments. Disappointments creates frustrations. Frustrations create hurt. At times, hurt leads to resentment and bitterness. Resentment and bitterness leads to sleepless nights and stressful days. 

One particular sleepless night I woke up. My mind started the downward spiral. A previous disappointment left me frustrated and hurt. Resentment and bitterness began to take root. The past few years have taught me I need to do my dance in life a little different. Change hasn't ever been easy for me. Tendencies to get in a rut and stay there for a while are my specialty. Perhaps the saying ‘it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks’ applies. Trying to do a different dance this late in the game is a challenge. However, with baby steps it seems there could be hope. 

As I lay in bed I paid attention to what was going on in my mind, and in my stomach. My mind was racing, and my stomach was churning. It was maddening. I took a deep breath. I needed God’s help. The vicious cycle dragging my mind into negativity, and tying my stomach into knots, had stirred me long enough. Contemplating the things going thru my mind, I lay there determined to tackle this problem. I knew God was with me, and could help me. I looked to Him, and opened my mind. He took the thoughts in my mind causing bitterness and resentment, and opened my mind to thoughts of thankfulness and appreciation. It was a battle within myself. It was a very hard battle. I lay in bed many nights with resentment and bitterness swirling in my head. Oddly enough it’d become a place of comfort. This night I decided to try and do it different. 

As I pushed aside the thoughts that were robbing me of joy, my mind was available to be filled with something better. Some reason the Holy Spirit came to mind. He’s been with me since I was thirteen, and tonight He was there waiting on me to recognize His presence. I moved myself over and gave Him room to occupy more of my thoughts.  

Teaching children, when I was younger, I memorized a song about the fruit of the Spirit. It comes to mind frequently when a preacher mentions the fruit in a sermon, or I happen to come across scripture that mentions the fruit of the Spirit. I must say, I’ve been proud of myself at times when I’ve been able to quote the fruit of the Spirit in a public setting. Little do people know it was a song written for children, and myself as an adult learned the fruit. 

Lying in bed my thoughts circled around the Holy Spirit. The fruit of the Spirit kept running thru my mind. I wanted the fruit of the Spirit, and I NEEDED the fruit of the Spirit. I needed less of the crap going thru my head that was creating bitterness and resentment. I wanted a better dance. As I leaned on God, He let me know I can have a better dance. I needed to give Him the mess going thru my head, let it go, and trust Him. 

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law. 

Galatians 5:22-23

The following definitions can be found in Webster: (There are probably more appropriate theological definitions, however I feel these definitions are adequate for today.)

Love - A feeling of strong or constant affection for a person.

Joy - A feeling of great happiness.

Peace - A state in which there is no war or fighting.

Patience - The capacity, habit, or fact of being patient (able to remain calm and not become annoyed when waiting for a long time, or when dealing with problems or difficult people).

Kindness - The quality or state of being gentle and considerate.

Goodness - The quality or state of being good (conduct that conforms to an accepted standard of right and wrong).

Faith - A strong belief or faith in someone or something.

Gentleness - The quality or state of being gentle especially : mildness of manners or disposition.

Self Control - Restraint exercised over one’s own impulses, emotions, or desires.

I wanted and needed the fruit of the Spirit. Easy enough said, but to actually have it can sometimes be a different story. Thoughts that brought about bitterness and resentment, were replaced with a few thankful and appreciative thoughts. A place in my heart that was once filled with darkness, was now filled with a little love, joy, peace, etc. You get the picture? The shift of my focus while lying in my bed, for those few minutes, gave the Holy Spirit a little breathing room in my heart. It felt great. I wanted more. 

There are many more ways for the fruit of the Spirit to work in our lives. This is only one small way God spoke to me at this time. When you find yourself wanting more of the fruit of the Spirit……. listen. God can probably show you something that will give the Holy Spirit a little breathing room in your heart. I feel confident saying ‘You’ll want more’.  

We will struggle to do our dance different. Something about the rut we get into is hard to get out of. As we practice more, I’m certain it can be done. Taking time to be deliberate in watching what’s going on in our head, nipping it in the bud, and giving into the directing of the Holy Spirit will cause a shift in the movement of our feet in our dance. With God on our side, all things are possible.

In all of life, I can’t think of anything better to have. Who wouldn’t want Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faith, Gentleness, and Self Control? 

Inadequate Words

The sights, sounds, and smells of Africa are certainly different from where I live. Words seem inadequate.  

And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, for ‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said. ‘For we are indeed his offspring.’

Acts 17:26-28 ESV

My Tribe

What does your nation look like? 

My nation has been referred to as a ‘melting pot’. Many people of different ethnicities, cultures, and backgrounds have immigrated to the United States, creating a diverse landscape of occupants both in the countryside and cities.

What does your tribe look like? 

Mine consist of blond, brown, black, red, and gray headed people. A large percentage of us are fair skinned, a growing percentage of us are dark skinned, and a percentage of have an olive tone skin color. A few freckles can be found scattered throughout our people. 

Who are your people? 

We are a group of unified, red blooded, hard working, determined people. We have overcome wars, riots, diseases, natural disasters, human tragedies, foreign attacks, the depression, bombings, and other events that have molded us into the people we are. 

What is your language? 

The english language is our language of choice.  Some of us place an emphasis on y’all, and some prefer to say ‘you guys’. Some say ‘coke’, and some like to say ‘pop’. The preference of slang can identify which part of our nation you reside. 

It was a Sunday morning church service in Ghana, West Africa. As part of a team on a mission to drill water wells, I sat and listened to a song being sung by the congregation. I did not recognize the lyrics, or tune. Some members of our team were swaying to the rhythm of the music, even thou we did not understand the words being sung. Music has a way of moving us. Music can move our hearts in praise, worship, thanksgiving, and adoration. I worshipped with the people, even though they were not part of my nation. I worshipped with the people, even though they were not my tribe. I worshipped with the people, even though they were not my people. I worshipped with the people, even though I did not know their language. 

Worship services in the United States happen in an enclosed heated and cooled structure. The congregation is protected from the elements of the outdoors with windows, doors, central heat, and central air conditioning. Other than services at church camps, or tent revivals, I can’t remember attending a worship service with no windows, doors, central heat, or central air conditioning. The people in this village attend church every week in an open environment, exposed to the harshness of the outdoors. There are no windows, only openings. There are no solid doors, only iron doors serving as an entrance.

Before the church services started dark gray clouds could be seen in the west. We had time to get into the building, and get seated, before the rain started pouring down. Not only did the rain pour down, but because of the strong winds, it came in the windows openings. Everyone quickly fled from the side where the rain was blowing thru the windows. The congregation was dressed to the max. All were purposefully dressed in their Sunday best. Dresses were the attire for women and men were  dressed in slacks, or a suit. 

The women were equipped and prepared for an event like the rain. Some dresses had a wrap around the waist. It appeared to be a part of the dress, because it was made of the same fabric as the dress. As I looked out across the congregation most every woman had covered up with the wrap to cover herself, and protect her from the cold blowing wind. The wrap had a dual purpose. It served as a wrap to accent their dress, and it served as a covering for their bodies in times of need such as we had this morning. It seemed ingenuous to me, but I feel certain the wrap has been a tradition for maybe hundreds or thousands of years. The blowing wind made it cold, and it made me wish I had a dress with a wrap.

We worshipped in unison with the common purpose of giving glory and honor to God. The elements of the weather outside kept getting my attention, but it was the harmony of the singing, the harmony of the people, and the harmony of worship that moved me the most. Sitting in this building with complete strangers, and a cold blowing wind, there was warmth in the building. 

A couple days after attending church, I downloaded the pictures and videos from the Sunday morning service onto my computer. Later, looking at some video clips I’d made during the service, my mind wandered. What will our nation be like in heaven? What will our tribe be like in heaven? Who will our people be in heaven? What will our language be in heaven? Listening to the singing on that day, in that building, in that language, with those people, gave me a very small sample of what heaven might be like. Can’t you just hear the voices of different languages and dialects all singing in unison, or will it all be one language? Can’t you just feel the praise and adoration songs being sung to the only One worthy? Can’t you just feel the unity of all in attendance being there for the purpose of honoring the One who offered us the gift of an eternity with Him? Just how great can it be? 

Rev. 5:9 And they sang a new song, saying: "You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation. 

Rev. 7:9-10 After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: "Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb."

https://youtu.be/KKwuzC2DRU0

Popcorn Heads

Moses was a production I'd wanted to see at Branson's Sight and Sound Theater. A couple times I'd driven thru Branson, MO and seen the signs. I'd also read about it when googling Branson's attractions. Other biblical productions had been performed at Branson's Sight and Sound Theater, and were just as appealing. The opportunity to see one of these productions hadn't ever worked out, until recently one finally presented itself. My daughter, grandson, and I planned to meet in Branson for a weekend. I took the weekend trip as an opportunity to see Moses. We secured tickets on-line, and off to Moses we went. 

It was an early showing, and as the theater filled it looked as if every seat was taken. Our seats were center stage in the upper section. One of the employees told me he thought the section we were in had the best seats. When we got to the section, our seats were the furtherest away from the isle. We had to pass by about 15 people to get to our seats. Each person had to literally stand up to let us pass. The seating was tight. Luckily we did not have to use the restroom during the show.

As we waited for the show to begin, the lights flickered a warning. About 10 minutes later the lights dimmed, and the show began. As we sat there, and things got under way, fog and blue lights illuminated from the stage. For some reason my eyes scanned the audience sitting before us. It was then that I saw the Popcorn Heads. Something about the way the blue lights filled the theater, and mixed with the gray haired people in front of us, caused an illusion for my eyes. A large part of the population that travel to Branson, MO are senior citizens. A large part of the population attending Moses this day were senior citizens. The blue lights illuminating thru the audience's heads caused a visual popcorn effect. It seemed almost every other person had gray hair, and their head seemed to glow with the blue lighting. My heart went soft. I longed for my grandmother with her brilliant gray hair to be in the crowd. She would have been the most beautiful Popcorn Head in the theater. 

As I watch senior citizens, it seems their hearts and minds are turning heavenward. Perhaps this is why a big part of the crowd in attendance to see Moses had gray hair. We grow up hearing the true stories of the Old Testament. We hear of the miracles, workings, and love of God. Sometimes it's not until we turn into a Popcorn Head do we take the time to truly mediate on the significance and truth of scripture.

The miracles, workings, and love of God, are not reserved exclusively for Popcorn Heads. The miracles, workings, and love of God, are for ALL people no matter our age, status in life, race, language we speak, or where we live. Feel free to join the Popcorn Heads that sat in the theater that day. Turn your heart and mind heavenward. See what God has to show you thru His miracles, His work and His love.

 

Check out the lovely gray heads in the crowd. The blue lighting on stage created the 'Popcorn Heads'.

Don't we need to be more like Popcorn Heads?