Too Many Scales

We often fished in ponds and creeks. The fish were catfish, bream, sunfish, bass, perch, and an occasional crappie. Since all of these fish had scales, except catfish, we primarily caught fish that indeed had scales. Growing up in the Southern United States, the long hot days of summer provided ample opportunity for us kids to dip our hooks in some water. We fished with grub worms, red worms, crickets, grass hoppers, fish we’d caught that was too small to eat, and anything else we thought a fish might eat. Hours and days were spent passing the time trying our luck at catching the next big one. 

Not having a lot of cash as kids to purchase a lot of fishing equipment, many times our fishing poles were good ole cane poles. You know, the long dried out stick where you hold one end while strategically trying to place the other end containing the hook in a ‘fish catching’ location. As you place the hook in a ‘fish catching’ location, extra care has to be taken not to snag the hook on weeds, grass, or trees growing at the edge of the water.  

A cane pole doesn’t have the casting ability a rod and reel does. As a result, most of our fishing was done close to the bank. It seemed close to the bank was the perfect place for catching the smallest fish in the pond, or perhaps our fishing skills needed tuning. Catching the small fish kept us busy, always wishing the ‘next one’ was going to be a trophy catch. However, I don't recall that day ever happening. The only trophies we got were memories of spending lazy summer days with friends. Ah, if we could only go back. 

I don’t remember cleaning many fish. Probably because there weren’t many big enough to clean, or perhaps it was the boys job to clean the fish. As an adult, I do remember cleaning fish with my children. One thing I remember from the years as a child fishing, and the years as an adult cleaning fish with my children, were the endless amount of scales. It seemed scales counted into the hundreds of thousands on each and every fish.

I know what fish scales look and feel like, from childhood and adult experiences. They feel soft as you run your fingers along the side of a fish, but they are very durable and rugged. Taken off the fish and allowed to dry they almost feel like armor. They serve as a protective coating for fish.

Fish scales came to my mind a while back, as I remembered a verse in Acts 9:18. I remembered how something similar to scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. (Acts 9:18 NIV,  Immediately something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized.) Sometimes I’ll read a Bible verse, hear a sermon, read a book, or maybe hear a song. There will be something I see or hear, and it will be an ah-ha moment. If it happens to be a verse, it’s been around a couple thousand years, but it’s like I understand it for the first time. If it happens to be a sermon it’ll be a truth studied for a couple thousand years, but all of a sudden it’s like ‘I get it’. If it happens to be a book, there’s new revelation in the truth I read. If it happens to be a song, the words sung will shed light on something I didn’t know. Anyone of these occurring makes me  feel “I finally get it”!!  There are many ways the ah-ha moments show up. When it occurs I’m amazed at how blind I feel. 

Not only was Saul physically blind, but he was spiritually blind. Once the ‘scales’ fell from Saul, he gained both physical sight and spiritual sight. I feel sometimes there are too many scales on my eyes. Each time scales fall from my eyes, and new knowledge is learned, I thank God. He is gracious in showing us more. God’s truths have been around forever. The Word has been studied and examined by scholars, clergy, theologians, Sunday School teachers, and others with various levels of knowledge, degrees and accomplishments. Even so, understanding the truths of the Ancient Words are revealed by the Holy Spirit. I’ve read that some of the greatest revivals in the world were led by men with little more than an elementary school education. The men were led and directed by the Holy Spirit. It wasn’t their formal education that inspired and equipped them to proclaim the Word in such a powerful way. It was the moving of the Holy Spirit. 

It is the Holy Spirit that shows up and gives us ah-ha moments. It’s my desire to have more ah-ha moments. I want to know and learn more. God pursues us and wants a deep relationship with us, but we are required to do our part. God doesn’t pour out understanding, enlightenment and knowledge to random people. The following verses show ah-ha moments occur by us doing our part:

*1 Chronicles 28:9 “If you seek Him, he will be found by you”.

*Deuteronomy 4:29 “But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you seek him with all your heart and with all you soul.

*Matthew 7:7-8 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.”

*Jeremiah 29:12-13 “Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

If - I - Seek - Him - He - Will - Be - Found.

An old hymn came to mind as I was writing this. It’s probably in every hymnal I’ve ever sang from. It's the words of the song that speak to my heart. The writer asks God to open her eyes, open her ears, and then open her mouth while she waits silently to be illumined by the divine Spirit. Wouldn’t that be a great prayer, and daily desire? 

Open My Eyes, That I May See

Text: Clara H. Scott, 1841-1897 

Music: Clara H. Scott, 1841-1897 

1. Open my eyes, that I may see 

glimpses of truth thou hast for me; 

place in my hands the wonderful key 

that shall unclasp and set me free. 

Silently now I wait for thee, 

ready, my God, thy will to see. 

Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine! 

2. Open my ears, that I may hear 

voices of truth thou sendest clear; 

and while the wavenotes fall on my ear, 

everything false will disappear. 

Silently now I wait for thee, 

ready, my God, thy will to see. 

Open my ears, illumine me, Spirit divine! 

3. Open my mouth, and let me bear 

gladly the warm truth everywhere; 

open my heart and let me prepare 

love with thy children thus to share. 

Silently now I wait for thee, 

ready, my God, thy will to see. 

Open my heart, illumine me, Spirit divine!

To read more about ‘Open My Eyes, That I May See’ hymn, a history of the hymn can be read by going to this link.

https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-open-my-eyes-that-i-may-see

I Want To Run With My Friends

Transporting equipment after church on Sunday, we arrived in the village of Yamah in Northern Ghana, West Africa. It was an hour drive one way over a rutted, bumpy road to get to the village. The pastor of a new church plant in the community requested a well, and as part of the ministry of the well drilling team I was with, we were preparing to drill a water well next to the new church. The weather predicted for the week was to be extremely hot with highs hovering around 107 - 110. Coming from the southern part of the United States, we occasionally see temperatures like what was predicted. However, expecting an entire week of the extreme heat was a little more than we were used to. Teams had traveled to the region before, but hadn't encountered the type of temperatures we were expected to have. 

Curious children gathered as we set up and unloaded the necessary equipment used to drill the bore holes. With large eyes, and big courage, they crept closer as time passed. Before we knew it they were sitting all around us and the equipment. Sweat pouring from every pore on our bodies, some of us sought relief inside the covered church. With only openings for the doors and windows, an occasional breeze flowed through. The small church served us well for a couple days as the well next to the church was drilled. 

Beginning on the first day, with the children creeping closer and closer, relationships were being made. It's difficult not to open and expose your heart to the depths of your soul to these beautiful children. All across parts of Africa the need is so great it's hard to know where to begin. There are children in need in the States, however this is where I was at this moment in life. Facing the children in front of me I wish I had a magic wand. I would wave it over them for a satisfied tummy, for adequate clothing, and for a hundred hugs a day. We all know magic wands do not exist, so all I had to offer was only a few snacks, an encouraging smile, a little conversation in English, a few hugs, prayers of blessing, and fresh clean water from a soon coming water well.

I think it was on the second day of drilling when the pastor of the church asked if a second well could be drilled at an orphanage nearby. It wasn't in our plans to dig a second well in this community. The plans for this trip was to dig five wells in the northern region of Ghana, but each would be at different locations. While we had the equipment at this village, it would make sense to go ahead and drill the second well. It was learned the pastor of the church was also the overseer of the orphanage. He was the one looking after the children. We found out there were about 50-60 children who slept at the orphanage, and about 200 children attending a school next to the orphanage. 

There was a definite need to drill a well at this location for the children. There was a hand dug well next to the school twenty-three feet deep. The quality of water at the hand dug well was compromised, as it is with most hand dug wells in the country. Drawing a sample of water up in a bucket it was muddy. The other source of water was an above ground black pvc holding tank. It was well water drawn from another well outside the city of Yamah and it was piped there but was very unreliable. It was clean water when they had it, but never knew when they would be without. It became evident a second well could definitely benefit this village. Once the drilling of the first well was complete, the team would move the equipment to the orphanage a quarter mile from the first location and drill the second well. The pastor was pleased. 

With the first well completed, and the crew still pouring the base, the rig was moved to the second location. It was decided to dig the well beside a mango tree, which has proved to be a reliable source for finding water. In this case the mango tree was right. At about twenty-five feet the first sign of water rose to the surface. The dirt which had been dry and dusty became moist. It was a good feeling to know this would probably be a very good well for the children. The mango tree also provided much needed relief from the heat for the workers doing the drilling. What a blessing for this mango tree to be growing at this location. 

At the second location there was no church which we could use to get under and be protected from the sun. However, there were enormous trees next to the school we could sit under. I didn't pay attention to the type of tree, but the shade it provided reminded me of large oak trees we have around home. Sitting under the tree was actually cooler than sitting in the church, because the breeze could be felt as it blew. 

It was at the second drilling location in this village, when I had my first encounter with the girls. God has a way of bringing people together for His purpose. I believe these girls were brought to me by His hands. I'd spoken to all the children as a group trying to establish some sort of communication. English is not their native tongue. I'd spoken to some of the children at the first location in the village, but had a difficult time carrying on a conversation. I figured communication at this second location would also be difficult. In Africa many villages have their own language, or dialect of a common local language. It's even difficult sometimes for villages ten miles apart to understand each other. It seems most schools are taught English, but there doesn't seem to be any standardization. So the reading abilities of one village is vastly different than the reading abilities of another village. Each school learns as much as the overseer and teachers implement. So, it's a guess sometimes as to how much English the students might understand, or might speak. 

Speaking to the children I introduced myself by telling them my name. I pointed to myself, and said my name. With an inquisitive look on their face, I asked if they knew English. Two or three children spoke up and said 'yes'. My eyes rapidly scanned the audience trying to pick out which one's had spoken up so bravely. As I narrowed in on them, I asked again 'Do you speak English?'. Shying behind a fellow classmate they spoke bravely once more, 'yes'. I gave them my name to introduce myself again, and asked their name. Still very bashful and shy, but brave, they spoke up and gave me their name. I asked a few more questions trying to communicate, but quickly ran out of things to talk about. Not only did we have a communication barrier, but we also had a cultural barrier. The things I knew, which I could ask questions about, they didn't know anything about. The conversation dried up quickly. It seemed all we could really do was sit and look at each other. Our attention went back to the drilling occurring under the mango tree.

It didn't seem long before three girls showed up beside me. With school books in their hands, I asked to look at one of their books. Tattered, and well worn, I held the workbook given and flipped thru the pages commenting a little on the writing on the pages. Whoever had written in the book had handwriting as good as mine. The girl who had given me the book was standing next to me. Taking the book, she started reading. They started reading close to the beginning of the book. She, and a friend of hers, read page to page as they progressed through the book. A big part of the reading was by sight words they'd memorized, but they were reading. In the book was the Lord's Prayer, and they read it aloud. It was marvelous! 

The two girls read mostly in unison as the pages were turned. I could feel the pride growing in them. They were communicating with me in the way they knew how. It was a little rough, no it was not a little rough, it was GREAT!! I was proud of them for being bold. I was proud of them for paying attention in school. I was proud of them for sitting, and being a friend to me. What wonderful young women to find in this little village in the remote areas of northern Ghana. 

We spent several minutes with them reading, until they read all there was to read in their workbook. We had formed a bond. Girls need girls. I needed these girls, and there they were. They were an encouragement for me on this day, at this place, at this moment in my life. We said our good byes, and most of the team left to go start preparing dinner. It had been a good day.

On the second day the water which had seeped in overnight was blown out, and the men finished drilling the well. It was late in the day after school let out before the girls showed up again. The crew was busy building the form which the concrete base was to be poured. The work on the second well was coming to a end. The only thing left to do was to come back for the remaining equipment, and attend the dedication ceremony. We spoke briefly before the girls needed to go home. We said our good-byes and they left. 

We arrived back in the village on Sunday morning for church services held at the church beside the first well site. We were also there to take part in a dedication service for each of the wells. Church was lively and filled with God's presence. It was going to be another very hot day with temperatures well over 100. Sweat began to pour as services were underway. It was after services had began that I saw my friends. One had come in and sat towards the middle of the church, and two others stood at the opening of the door. We acknowledged and waved at each other. At the end of services I told them how happy I was to see them again. Communication was still a struggle. Eye language and body language let each of us know we were both happy to be in church, and to see each other once more. We gathered around the first well, performed the formalities, prayed over it, and pumped fresh water from it for all the officials to drink. Pictures were taken to document the dedication. With pointing and attempted communication, I tried to tell my friends we were headed to the second well. I could only hope they would understand, and make the short walk to the well site for the dedication.

The extreme heat made everyone move quickly to try and get the process started. There was no standing around. It was all action. Folks quickly gathered around the well, and once again formalities were spoken, a prayer was said, and water pumped for all the officials to drink. More pictures were taken to document the occasion. I realized my friends had indeed made the short walk. We greeted each other once again with eye language, and smiles, and limited verbal communication. Things were moving quickly because of the heat, and before I knew it we were loading into the trucks preparing to leave. 

It would probably be a very long time before I saw my friends again, if ever. This was the first time a team had made it to this village to drill a well. The fact two wells were dug made it highly unlikely we'd return anytime soon. During the meeting with the chief, he requested two more wells. However, with two new wells in the village it was unlikely we would come anytime soon to dig more. There were other villages, such as this one had been, with zero wells. The mission of Water for Christ is to dig wells where mission churches are planted helping local pastors spread the gospel. A few other places have been dug to also help in the spread of the gospel. The first well dug in this village provided the well for the new mission church. The second well dug at this location was for humanitarian reasons, and it also helped the pastor of the church as he minsters to this village. Returning to this location was unlikely.

As we started to pull away, children started climbing on the utility trailer we were pulling carrying tools and equipment. Adults, and older children both, instructed the younger children to get off the trailer for their safety. They were slow to get off, but finally did. We were then able to pull away from the drilling site. We turned the corner onto the dirt road leading away from the orphanage and school. The children were running beside and behind us. It was my friends who were leading the way. They were right at my door running along side the truck waving bye to me. As we drove, we just kept waving a smiling, and they kept running. SO, what do you do when your new friends are running along side the truck you are in? That's right..... You get out and run!! To God be the Glory, for girls from a village called Yamah in Northern Ghana can run with a girl from Arkansas in the Southern United States. It's been a while since I've done much running, but I guess it can be compared to riding a bicycle. Once you know how, it comes back to you when you need it. With our skirt tails flying and our flip flops flopping, we ran!! 

I can't tell you how far we ran. It wasn't a long distance. I can't tell you what those girls must've been thinking. The thoughts were certainly in their native language. I can't tell you how many prickly dried grass stems scraped against my legs. It was a lot. I can't tell you how much joy I had running with my friends. It was hard to contain. I can't tell you when I will see my friends again. I hope it's in this lifetime. If however our paths do not ever cross again in this life, I hope and pray they will have faith, and believe, when they hear the gospel. I hope and pray I will run again with them someday in heaven. 

I want to run with my friends from Yamah!

Blowing out the well before beginning drilling on the second day. Notice the children having school ing the background under the tree.

Blowing out the well before beginning drilling on the second day.

Drilling on the second day. Striking a pose for the camera.

 Drilling on the second day.

The 3 Ghanaians instrumental in getting wells dug. Ben (white shirt), Justice (green shirt), and Kwaku (orange shirt).

 Waving at a drone the camera man used to take pictures.

Handing out mangos after the dedication of the well.

Fulfilling formalities with a visit to the chief of the village.

Fulfilling formalities with a visit to the chief of the village. Some of the team were drilling, and could not make it.

Koinonia

Koinonia

Christian fellowship or communion, with God or, more commonly, with fellow Christians.

Reading a book by Rick Joyner I came across a word I’d never heard. There are certainly many words I’ve never heard, and this is only one in probably millions. This word as it was written in the book jumped off the page and grabbed my attention. Perhaps it was the content of the chapter which the word was written. The word is Koinonia. It has been frequently popping into my head. Really it’s the meaning of the word that has been popping into my head. The word, Koinonia, is not found in our english vocabulary. It is a Greek word. Reading the book created in me a desire to know more about this word. So to Wikipedia I went. This is probably taking the easy way out to learn about such a word, but it was available. I invite comments to this blog if my interpretation taken from Wikipedia is too shallow. I feel it is a word worthy of higher intelligence than I have to offer. However, I’d like to share what is on my mind regarding this word. 

I’ve heard Old Testament Hebrew writing in the Bible is more romantic than the New Testament Greek. I must say, I agree. I have found a valuable tool in apps available on smartphones, tablets, and computers. It’s apps that have the Bible in audio form. I have two of these apps on my phone. Both apps contain various translations. What a way to enjoy God’s Word. Empowering, relaxing, convicting, peaceful, wisdom, directing, knowledge, strength, and of course ‘romantic’ are some words that come to mind when I think of my times listening to the Old Testament. 

My college degree was not as an english major. English subjects were only taken to meet the state minimum requirements of the state institution I attended. There are no classes about the Hebrew or Greek languages in my past. As a child the only Greek word I remember ever coming in contact with was on a t-shirt our youth group wore. It seemed a little strange as a youth to have a Greek word plastered across your chest. The word was ‘Theophilus’. As I’ve gotten older that word creates a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart every time I think of it. I’ve come to a greater appreciation for the language used. The word means ‘a friend of God, loved by God, or loving God’. My recollection, as to why the word was used, was because we wanted to be identified as ‘a friend of God’. Our youth group wore those shirts, and what a testimony it was. We were letting the world know about our friendship with God. 

Jesus calls us His friend, if we do as He commands.     John 15:12-15 (NIV) My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.         The command to ‘Love each other’ is known as the second greatest commandment. The first and greatest commandment is found in       Matthew 22:36-40 (NIV) “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “Love the Lord your God with all you heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Back to our word, ‘Koinonia’. There’s quiet a bit written about this word in Wikipedia, and other resources. I encourage you to research this word for yourself. Here are a few of the things I found in Wikipedia about ‘Koinonia’:

• In the New Testament, the basis of communion begins with a joining of Jesus with the community of the faithful. This union is also experienced in practical daily life. The same bonds that link the individual to Jesus also link him or her with other faithful. The New Testament letters describe those bonds as so vital and genuine that a deep level of intimacy can be experienced among the members of a local church.
• The first usage of Koinonia in the Greek New Testament is found in Acts 2:42-47, where a striking description of the common life shared by the early Christian believers in Jerusalem is given:   ‘They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the communion, to the breaking of bread and to prayer…All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need…They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people.
• The word has such a multitude of meanings that no single English word is adequate to express its depth and richness. It is a derivative of "koinos", the word for "common". Koinonia is a complex, rich, and thoroughly fascinating Greek approach to building community or teamwork. Koinonia embraced a strong commitment to “kalos k’agathos” meaning “good and good”, an inner goodness toward virtue, and an outer goodness toward social relationships. In the context of outer goodness, translated in English, the meaning of koinonia holds the idea of joint participation in something with someone, such as in a community, or team or an alliance or joint venture. Those who have studied the word find there is always an implication of action included in its meaning…
• Koinonia creates a brethren bond which builds trust and, especially when combined with the values of wisdom, virtue and honor, overcomes two of humanity’s deepest fears and insecurities: being betrayed and being demeaned.

(Parts of the text are in bold for emphasis)

Koinonia
Christian fellowship or communion, with God or, more commonly, with fellow Christians.

So this word found in the New Testament, seems to have depth of meaning we could all benefit from, even those of us who had just enough english classes to meet state minimum requirements. What do we find in this word? A word that means ‘communion’ in the NIV translation, but has a much deeper and richer meaning? 

- ‘a bond so vital and genuine that a deep level of intimacy can be experienced’.

- ‘a complex, rich, and thoroughly fascinating Greek approach to building community or teamwork. It has a strong commitment to an inner goodness toward virtue, and an outer goodness toward social relationship’.

- ‘a brethren bond which builds trust and, especially when combined with the values of wisdom, virtue and honor, overcomes two of humanity’s deepest fears and insecurities: being betrayed and being demeaned’.

Bring on some Koinonia!! This ole world needs some Koinonia!! Do you feel generic and disconnected? Do you feel bland and no place to fit in? Do you feel a lack of honesty and respect? Do you feel alone? Do you feel a lack of commitment? Do you feel a lack of trust, from being betrayed and demeaned? We all could use a big dose of Koinonia. I need some fellowship. I need some communion. I need my fellow Christians. 

‘They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the communion, to the breaking of bread and to prayer…All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need…They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. (Acts 2:42-47 NIV)

One

Two came from the East, two came from the South, three came from the West, and two were occupants. A hundred years ago a bell would have sounded, echoing far and wide calling them in. As it is today, a cell phone replaces the purpose of ringing the bell. A designated time is a standard standing order at each of the gatherings. While the occupants busied themselves preparing for the spread, others gradually flowed into the home. The chatter of voices became louder and louder as more arrived. Clatter of pots, bowls, and dishes provided evidence the festivities were about to begin. The table was set. The attendants were as anxious as horses at a feeding trough. There was One more still on their way.

Waiting on the One wasn't an option for the bellies rumbling in the room. Not wanting to further delay, the announcement was made, 'Come and eat'. With feet scuffling across the floor, places were taken. We were missing the pitter patter of one set of feet. They belonged to a wee bit of child only three years old. Leaving the John Deere tractors, and other equipment, was just too much to ask of the child. The others gathered at the table bowed their heads to give thanks to the Lord for the food. 

After a heart to heart talk with the mother, the child climbed onto a stool that served as a perch for him to reach the plate. After mother and child were comfortable, someone at the table made the mistake of mentioning the prayer had already been said. The child's face broke, lips turned down, and tears began to flow. It had become tradition for the child to say the blessing with the assistance of an adult. He'd missed saying the prayer. What do you do when a three year olds lips turn down, and tears flow, because of missing the opportunity to pray? That's right, all the bowls and spoons already in hands were sat down. Heads were bowed again, and a second prayer of thanksgiving was attempted. I say attempted because all we heard was 'I say prayer, I say prayer'. When the child was given the prompt to thank God for the food or thank God for the people sitting around the table, there was only silence. On this night it was ok, for his heart had been broken. Sometimes it's just difficult to be thankful. Another prompting for the child, and a very loud 'AMEN' was said. Bowls and spoons were picked up. The passing and dipping continued. Considering all the activity, the One still coming had better hurry.

A cell phone was used to call the remaining One. The sound of a dinner bell could not have ever reached the One. He had been about 70 miles away. Thank goodness for modern conveniences to call the One. Even with a pick up truck, the One said it would still be about 30 minutes before their arrival. If it were by wagon they were traveling, it certainly would have taken half a day. 

After filling their rumbling bellies, conversation floated around the table. Dessert made those who partake appear they were under sedation. Pecan pie seems to have that affect at times. The gathering flowed from the dining table into the living room, for a more comfortable seat. Dirty dishes were carried away.  Remaining food was set on the stove, to keep warm for the One still coming. As people started making plans to leave, the One arrived. A plate was filled. Sweet tea was poured. The One sat at the table and filled his belly. 

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.