Faith & Healing & Me

   Sometimes a familiar passage, one that shows up in a daily reading, makes me stop and wonder what I really believe about it. Such is the one from today, which begins in Mark 10 in this way:

"And they came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. "

   The first thing that comes to my mind relates to a long ago situation that we had in our home when out kids were growing up. We bought an aquarium and some fish for the kids to watch. One was a blind fish whom we immediately called Blind Bart, for the story related above.

   But this morning, I saw more than just this reference to a fish in my past, I looked at the whole healing incident and began to wonder some things.

" And Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” And the blind man said to him, “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.”  And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.”And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way."

   Questions began to surface in my mind as I try to put this in context for my present day.

   Jesus could heal, sure He could, He healed many, but how about today?

   The early disciples and apostles could heal, the Bible is full of that, too. Did that die out after they all died?

   Does God still heal today, in that same miraculous way?

   I can say that I believe God can still heal today, but do I really? Is my faith more in the skill of doctors and the properties of modern medicines or God?

   Why am I cynical when I see faith healers on TV and watch them in action?

   When I hear that some person's cancer has gone away and no longer shows up on any test, why do I pause and, instead of thanking God, wonder how soon it will show up again?

   Is my failure of faith due to the fact that no one that I know personally ever experienced this miracle of healing?

   My faith says that Jesus can still heal if He wants to, and He can do it in any way and at any time, but I wonder if I am a part of the problem? Cynicism does not fit very well with faith.

   I read some of John Piper's sermon on this topic as I sought to understand both the teaching and my response to this matter of healing taking place today, and he says:

"Finally, this implies that we may rightly seek for gifts of healings. This is implied in the pursuit of love and compassion. Praying for healing is only one way to show love to someone. But it is one way."

   And I wonder at my reaction to the possibility of this happening today.

   Does this show that I do not really care or have any compassion on those that suffer?

   And I pray that God will give me the grace and enlightenment to truly understand my role in all of this.

3 Things on my Desk

   I look around my work place this morning and see 3 things that need my attention.

      1. An agenda for a condo meeting this morning at which I need to talk about financial stuff.

      2. A letter from an inmate at Lee State Prison over in Leesburg, GA.

      3. A letter from a 10 year old boy over in Kenya, one that we sponsor through Compassion.

   And I think, what do all of these have in common? I know they are reminders that I need to do something, figure out what to say to the condo owners, write a letter to the inmate, and respond to the letter from the Kenyan boy.

   Sorry to say, I have not even opened my Bible this morning, but I do see something that these lead me to say to those fellow owners this morning, something that needs to apply to my life as well.

   We all live in community. There are 42 owners in our condo complex, there are millions of incarcerated men and women around our state, country and world, and there are multiplied millions of children in the world that are in need of support and help. What is one person's responsibility to them and others?

   I live in a condo, there is a community there, in a neighborhood, there is one there also. How about the island we live on, yes there is one there, and the state and nation that we live in. All these are communities of a sort, and then there is our world.

   Included in each of the above are imbedded other sorts of communities, such as church and school and clubs and businesses. We are all meshed into all various kinds and many of these simultaneously.

   What can one person do? What does God expect from me?

   I can begin by trying to look at the big picture of any community that I am a part of. I do not need to just focus on what I want to have happen, my own needs and wants, but what is the best for the whole.

   Secondly, I can serve where God calls me. Whether it is writing a letter to a boy in Kenya to encourage him, or one to an inmate in Leesburg, GA, there is something that no one else may do today for these people. Those letters are on my personal desk for a reason.

   What else might I see if I just open my eyes and heart to it? If I shuffle around on my desk, in all my stuff, I might just see more that I have covered up.

   An agenda and two letters, at least do that......

The Color Around Us

   What do I see when the news is on the TV?

   What do I read in the papers that come to my door or the emails that show up on my computer?

   What do I hear in meetings that I am involved in?

   Oftentimes, it is all about a world that is broken. From the national and international news, to the personal things that go on in the lives of people I know, it is hard to concentrate on the good out there because the bad screams so loudly.

   But there is good out there. Sometimes it seems hidden, but then there it is.

   Paul writes to the Philippians in his letter:

"Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies."

   The first thing that came to my mind this morning was color, a color that I had seen yesterday that reminded me that God, although He is fully aware of our troubles and the other stuff that is out there, chooses to bless us with color all around us.

   The world wants us to focus on our problems and those of others, and they are real to be sure, but there is more.

   God is in control. Out of the Winters of our lives come the Springs.

   Look around and see.

Famous and/or Faithful

   For some reason, I am drawn to stories of people and events that are historically important, but that are largely unknown. Stories that have changed the course of history, but stories that are hidden under the glamorous events and personalities that claimed the headlines.

   There are so many stories of individuals, lives lived during momentous times, deeds done in obscurity, but differences made in ways that affect my life, even to this day. There are so many story lines interwoven into history, important to the whole story, but hidden to all except maybe the immediate family.

   One of my favorite historical periods are the war years of 1939-1945, otherwise known as WWII, I guess because I lived as a boy through that time.

   Many, many books have brought out the personalities of the period, from the generals and prime ministers to the lowly private in the ranks. Men and women of both sides, individual stories all, made up the whole tapestry of that event and its times.

   The book I am reading right now, Forgotten Sacrifice, contains many names of people that are familiar, but also many stories of individuals that are unknown to most. It is the story of the Arctic convoys that brought war material to the old Soviet Union from the US and Britain, material that enabled Russia to continue the fight against Germany, while the western allies built up their forces.

   This book is a story of heroic men, battling the seas of the North Atlantic, in the worst of weather, braving winds, waves, temperatures and the enemy in a harsh unforgiving climate. This is not D-Day, or Tarawa, or Pearl Harbor, places and events known to most, but seamen, sailing in terrible conditions in slow, lumbering merchant ships and tankers, delivering supplies to a nation in need.

   In any "big story" there are millions of smaller ones that make up the whole and help determine the outcome. That is true for those men in WWII, and it is true for us, in the lives that we live today. We can't see the far reaching affects of decisions we make today, but these, which can be good or bad, are determinants as well.

   What is the key to positive outcomes of what we do? I would submit that it falls under the term of "faithfulness".

   Those seamen were faithful to the task just as those privates on Omaha Beach were faithful in what they had to do. Thousands of individual stories all over the world, combining to spell the outcome of that conflict.

   Each of us make decisions and take actions every day and these affect the lives of future generations as well as the immediate present. It behooves us to be faithful to do what God has given us to do. I read this in a blog post by one of my VA friends this morning:

  "The thing God cares about and honors is faithfulness, not famousness. Face it: faithfulness is pretty boring. Faithfulness looks like creating spreadsheets and changing diapers and caring for aging parents and setting up chairs on Sunday morning. Nobody gets a standing ovation for faithfulness. Nobody makes documentaries about faithful servants. Nobody notices faithful servants. 

   Nobody except God, that is."  

   God knows.

What Kind Of Blog Is This Anyway?

   Sometimes I wonder what is driving this blog. Is it the Scripture passage that I read, or is it the photography that I want to incorporate? Does it work together? Let's see.

   Last Thursday, I had a few minutes to kill before picking Mayre up, so I drove down to the Pier area with my camera in hand, just to look around. When I parked and looked there was this bench that seemed to be calling my name.

   Sitting down and looking around, I noticed this dead flower, intact, and sitting atop its stalk.

   As I thought about the flower, I noticed the comparison between it and the resurrection fern that had come to life on the live oak tree after a recent rain. That vibrant green coloring had been the same texture and color of the flower just a few days before that rainy bath.

   Looking further around the tree for more examples of the fern, I snapped this shot, but did not realize until I put it on the computer last night, that it was not fern at all but a new oak leaf sprouting out of the trunk. Neat!

   All of this was taking place in a radius of about 15 feet from my bench, but until I sat down and looked, I had not noticed. Good Stuff!

   Looming over all of this scene was my friendly light.

   There seems to be a message there also.

   Are there gems of life all around me, pictures that can be applied to my life, or life in general?

   Does this verse from Psalms 107 have any correlation?

"Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things;
let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord.

   Can it work?

 

Safe in the Scenery?

   Sometimes I wake in the morning and sit down in the quiet to pray, read and meditate I find my mind focusing on things in my life. Situations that I woke up with that seem to call out for my attention, become the focal point for my prayer, and I look for guidance for that or those.

   When I sensed my mind going that way this morning, I prayed that God might give me some word from the Scripture reading that, while they might truly be the guidance I needed in those specific areas, would also be what God wanted me to see in these few minutes.

   The first Word from Psalm 69:

"Let not those who hope in you be put to shame through me,
O Lord God of hosts;
let not those who seek you be brought to dishonor through me,
O God of Israel."

   These verses have long been a silent mantra for me. I have lived by them for years, because I have not wanted to be the reason for someone else being turned away from God, or put off from following Christ because of something in my life. There are too many admonitions to not being a stumbling block, but there is a draw back.

   There seems to be an easy way to keep from being this rock in the path and that would be to not do or say anything that might be taken the wrong way. In fact, it might be not to do anything at all. Just play it safe and melt into the landscape.

   Then there are the words of Jesus as recorded in Mark 8:

"For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

   There is a time to speak up and a time to act. Not saying anything, or doing anything, can be the very things warned against in the Psalm passage. I can be ashamed of Jesus and not say a word. I can bring dishonor to His Name, by not performing that act that He leads me into. I can be that detriment to another by just sitting and being silent.

   So, I breathe out another prayer, that I will not violate either Scripture, but, with God's guidance, will speak His words and act in accordance to His leading, not just be content to be safely a part of the scenery, no matter how pretty.

 

 

Music....Memories

   There was this verse from Psalm 100 in my reading this morning:

"Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
 Serve the Lord with gladness!
Come into his presence with singing!"

   If my memory serves me correctly, I remember this as one of my early memory verses from Sunday School way back in my early years (and that is "way" back). Every time I read it or hear it read, it takes me back. I can't help but think that God gives us memory to help us connect with those things in the past that He wants us to relate to.

   And the verse speaks of music, and music is one of those "memory sticks" that take us back.

   Just yesterday, our music worship leader at church posted on his Facebook page a query about a lady who had attended one of our Sunday morning services. She had heard a song that reminded her of a special Walk to Emmaus, one that brought back memories of a life changing time God had given her on her own Walk, 9 years before. In her email she had thanked the church for taking her back to that meaningful time. A sweet and powerful memory for her.

   I can relate to that. Familiar hymns and praise songs take me back to sweet times also. Music that resonates in the soul and that has the ability to stir hearts in worship.

   I can still remember the music leader in our Chattanooga church leading us in what was fondly called, this church's national anthem, Amazing Grace. With the congregation singing the first verse, the ladies the second, the swelling organ on the third and all the people, with gusto, singing the last, it was powerful and never failed to elicit goose bumps. It still does as I hear it in my mind.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found.
'Twas blind, but now I see."

   Such music becomes so powerful in the singing, that it causes a lump in the throat, and, with that, an inability to get the words out of my mouth, simply because of how God has used that in my life. I just have to stand and mouth the words. My heart is too full to make any noise at all.

   Music, for me, like:

"Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary
Pure and holy, tried and ture
With thanksgiving, I'll be a living
Sanctuary for You"

and:

"How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure"

and from "way" back:

"Jesus loves me this I know 
For the Bible tells me so 
Little ones to him belong 
They are weak but he is strong" 

   My morning becomes one of worship even as I think about them again.

   Thank You, God....for memory

What Blessings Would I List?

   For several years now, my wife and I have supported a child in Kenya through the Compassion program. His name is Peter and he lives in Nairobi, the capital city.

   Yesterday, we got a letter from him. Correspondence from the kids is a big part of the program. I'm sure it keeps the donor interested in, not only the individual child, but also the mission in general, to hear from one's sponsored child is a reminder not to forget to send that monthly support.

   In his letter, Peter mentioned three things that he received at Christmas this past December. Looking at the things he listed, I wondered what any of my grandkids would have mentioned from their gifts, especially at 10 years of age.

  He says that he received a shirt and trousers from the Compassion center.

   He also says that his family received water filters , so now he can filter the water from the river and be able to drink it.

   I am sure that many other children his age, living in that same city, would be overjoyed to have received those same gifts. So many of them do not have Compassion sponsors, or families that can afford these gifts, and they get by with much less.

   All of this just reminds me of all the clothes hanging in my closet and tucked away in dresser drawers. It reminds me of the clean water that can be used straight from the faucet in the kitchen. Those things that I take for granted every day, he can't.

   Then a verse comes to mind: (Luke 12:48 NASB)

   " From everyone who has been given much, much will be required;"

   Then I think of how much good that small check each month means, and how little it costs me.

   My ratio of blessings in and blessings out is out of whack.

 

Because He Loves You

   Because He Loves You....this simple, yet complex, phrase surfaced in my mind this morning and refused to go away.

   It has been a morning of an early breakfast meeting, then a trip home to a quiet condo, to sit down and read and think and pray. That sounds like a recipe for a meaningful time, but, even though the setting was good, the mind refused to cooperate.

   My mind was in motion, wandering from one thing to another. It just would not be still. I read from one site, then another, and then yet another one, searching for that word from God that would be mine for this day.

   When I closed my eyes to think or to pray, sleep tended to creep in and destroy what little concentration I had. What did God want to tell me today. I had given Him the time and made a place for listening, but there did not seem to be any response on His side. It was not as though He was beholden to me to come and give me something, I knew that, but I still wanted to hear.

   As I wondered at my inability to "get with the program", those words above broke through, but what did they mean in this context?

   I tend to forget that, in the various struggles of life, God still wants me to know that He loves me.

   A simple song:

Jesus loves me! This I know,
For the Bible tells me so;
Little ones to Him belong;
They are weak, but He is strong.

   Struggling is a part of life. Big or small they come, but just perhaps there is meaning in them, too. God can use them to remind me of what is important and encourage me to trust Him, not just in my time of weakness, but because of it.

   A simple message, I think not.

   Finally, the light comes.....

Wisely and Well

   Some verses from Psalm 90 this morning: (from The Message)

"We live for seventy years or so
    (with luck we might make it to eighty),"

"Oh! Teach us to live well!
    Teach us to live wisely and well!"

"And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us,
    confirming the work that we do.
    Oh, yes. Affirm the work that we do!"

   When I put these all together, my prayer is for guidance in the days that I might have left. Of course, none of us can know of the times that are allotted for us to be here, but especially, as I get up into the late 70s, I know I have much less time than I have ever had before. It is easy to look from the perspective of a man in his 20s and see the possibility of many years ahead, but not from where I stand.

   As I stand in the early morning dawn, I have to wonder how many sunrises do I have left.

   What are the things that I need to be about? Who is out there that I need to befriend or help in some way? How do I juggle the calls on my time to be the husband, father, friend, helper that God would affirm? How do I live "wisely and well"?

   We all want to hear "Well done, good and faithful servant" when we step across the threshold of death into a new life, but how do I get there?

   Sitting here, it is easy to ponder these questions and read those verses that sum up what I want to be like, but then comes the nitty gritty of the day, and the decisions as to how to spend my time are all around me. Then what? Will I remember the verses as well as I remember the sunrise?

   God, I ask that You guide me in "wisely and well" so that any work that I do be worthy of Your affirmation.

   Let me so live.....

God Singing, Over What?

   The other day my wife gave me a present. She called it an early birthday or father's day present, but whatever it was meant to be, it gave some meaning to my early morning time today.

   This was a book of birds and their various songs. It came with a CD of the actual sounds of a variety of winged creatures. While listening to it, and looking at the way those sounds were phonetically translated onto the written page, I thought, there is no way I could ever learn to distinguish them from each other, putting the right sound with its singer.

   As I walked this morning, some time before dawn, that is what I heard. Birds singing as the day was still new and unspoiled. Different songs coming from various places in the darkness, and I thought, "I really would like to know which ones are doing what". The air was full of God-created sound. Several times I had to stop and listen, to see if I could pick up all the variations of these songs of joy in my world.

   I had read several passages before I ventured out in the dark, but I could not see how these related to what I was experiencing. A refrain kept going through my mind, "He sings over me". From a song I had heard? I could not place it.

   As I googled this, all of the first hits led me to a verse in Zephaniah 3: (NIV)

"The Lord your God is with you,
    the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
    but will rejoice over you with singing.”
   As I kept reading what others said about this verse, I came across this comment to a blog post:

"The thought of God actually singing over me is so amazing and uplifting! When I take walks, I listen to the birds singing and know that they are the voice of God in song over me. Wow!"

   That seemed to fit what I had felt, but how did it apply to my life? What was in my life that was worth God singing over? Too many are my failings and sins.

   When I struggled to hear Him in His Word this morning, He gave me the songs in the trees. Maybe, just maybe, it was because I stopped to listen.

   And be grateful.

   Thanks

 

 

The Mysterious Soldier...Who Is It?

   For some reason, although I see this picture every day, the scene at the top of this blog is for me a picture of my life and my ramblings. A familiar path toward the ocean, located not many miles from our home, one I have walked many times, but when you get to the beach, there is no telling what you might find.

   I take paths like this, mental paths that lead me from one place to another, many times without a purposeful end, just rambling into "I wonder why", or "how did that happen?", or "how does this relate to anything?".

   Most times when I write, I want to leave a nugget or a haunting question for anyone who happens by and reads, something that God has shown from His Word, or from a picture, or something else that I have read. But sometimes it is just rabbit trails, beginning from some thought and then letting it meander out onto the beach to spend some time thinking and wondering, percolating if you will, in the sun.

   I think about people and their lives. People that live in my world, or folks who have lived in the past, ones that I know their names and something about them, and others whose lives are hidden from my view, and the only thing that I see is an old snapshot, and I wonder.

   I wondered this morning about that lady that my daughter encountered in a Mexican restaurant the other day, the one I wrote about. I mulled the situation around in my mind again and hoped that they might meet again and share stories and lives in that Arkansas town.

   Then, as I looked back at a site that I had bookmarked yesterday, I read a story of a man's search for the answers to a story contained in an old photograph on a sign in Massachusetts. His site is full of items like that. Here, if you have time to wonder, and wander, with me:

http://www.morningsonmaplestreet.com/index.html

   I remembered an old picture that we have been moving from house to house over the past years. We cannot remember where it came from, whose it was before, who it portrays, when it was done, or any other of the details. We just have it sitting on our bookshelf.

   When I take a shot of it and zero in on the face, he looks like he belongs to us. I can see the profile of my own father's face in the shot, and I have to wonder, who is it?

   It is a metal picture, with just a few scraps of newsprint on the back, possibly an obituary posting, but not enough of it to identify anyone. He appears to be in a army uniform, possibly WWI or maybe Spanish American War vintage. But who is he? My dad was not in the army, so that projection is out.

   I suspect he is in training at a post in the south. Note the pine trees in the background.

   Chattanooga lies just north of the old army training grounds at Fort Oglethorpe, established by the army in 1902, where soldiers were inducted and processed during both WWI and WWII. Could that be a clue?

   Someone served, some family had this metal picture, some people cared. Lives were lived, events were cherished, joys and heartaches were there, they were important to someone, they had a story, a part in the tapestry of life. They left a legacy of some kind.

   I guess there is no purpose in my wanderings and wonderings. Maybe the pursuit of a retired mind, but interesting to me.

   And I still want to know: Who is he, and what was his life?

Under the Bridge

   Crossing the causeway from Brunswick to the Island the other day, I made a mental note to come back one afternoon and see what might be under the bridges on this road. My thoughts were, of course, on interesting things to photograph, and so, yesterday, we went, turning off the roadway and coming to a dead end right under one of the elevated portions that pass over the tidal rivers that separate the mainland from the Island.

   A view from under the first big bridge.

   What seemed to draw my attention was the underside of the structure, the part that no one sees as they travel back and forth.

   As I stood there listening to the sound of vehicles passing overhead, the clickty-clack sound of their tires running over the joints in the pavement, I wondered what those drivers and passengers were thinking. That was all a mystery, of course, but the one thing that I was pretty sure of was that they were not thinking of a person standing under them, taking pictures.

   How many times had I passed over these same bridges, giving no thought at all about what might lie underneath the road?

   How many times do I go blithely on my own path, giving no thought to anything beyond my own agenda?

   Indeed, I do not even think of what is beneath me as I drive over, those pylons that keep me out of the marsh and the river. They are unseen but vital to my traveling life.

   Unthought of, unseen, but yet so important. How much of life is that way?

   When I think of my blessings, so much of the time I focus on the material items that I can see and touch. How much more blessed am I by God with those that are unseen and unthought of?

   God, please open my eyes and heart to really see.

   Even under the bridges of life....

A Blank Space

   A thought from this morning's readings: The day in front of me, if I looked at it in terms of what appointments are already filled in at this early hour, would consist of a couple of items with a lot of blank space between and around. When I get to the end of the day, what will be the most important, the scheduled items or the things that happened in all of those blanks?

   Do I spend my hours just filling in the blank spaces with stuff, or do I look for divine appointments that could be much more important than the things already planned for?

   What does God have planned in this day?

   Those thoughts reminded me of a blog post, written by my daughter over in Arkansas the other day. What she writes about looked unscripted at that time, but the way it played out sure looked like one of those divine appointments. I'll let her tell the story:

http://uniontrueheart.blogspot.com/

   Reading that really affected me. A chance encounter? Sure did not seem that way to me or to her. It was almost as if an angel had appeared and heaven had touched earth at that moment in time.

   I've got a lot of blanks in my calendar for today, a lot of chances for me to recognize others that may come and go in my story line for this time. Can an angel visit, or do I have the chance to be that "angel" in someone else's life?

   At the end of this day, how will the blank spaces have been filled in?

Birds of Prey, and Us..

   As I read in Exodus 14 this morning, God looks after His own. Whether it be the Israelites confronted by the Egyptian army at the Red Sea, or even a sparrow falling to the ground in the normal everyday course of life.

   A friend sent me a URL to a website the other day, one that I kept in my favorites listing, and I noticed it on my computer this morning. I think its study and information fits right in with the thought of God's care for His.

http://www.georgiawildlife.com/BerryEagleCam

   The site shows the pictures from a web cam, a nest cam actually, showing the happenings in a bald eagle nest where an eaglet has hatched just a few days ago.

   As I watch and as I read of the life of the bald eagle, their nesting habits, their mating for life, and their care for their young eaglet, I cannot help but think of Scripture that tells of God's care for His creatures and His creation. In Psalm 50:

"I know every mountain bird by name;"

   The care that this eagle pair give to the young in the nest is a testament to the way God has created them. It also shows how He takes care of all creation.

   If He shows that much care for birds, how about us?

" Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?"

   We need to live in the truth of our worth to God.

   Watching the eagles on the camera is fun, but the lesson for me is in how much he cares for me, and for each one of us.

   Look over the rest of the site above, especially the interview with the Berry College professor, their resident eagle expert, which is here:

https://www.facebook.com/berrycollegeeagles

   Everything that science learns about God's creation confirms the care with which He has created and sustained.

   Praise be to Him..

 

Time For Oatmeal

   I have been bothered for the past few days, even when I got up this morning, with the fact that I have not taken the time to sit down and read, or study, or pray meaningfully, or write, for three mornings in a row.

   Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all began with places to be at 7AM. Now, I know that I could have set the alarm for 5AM or so, and had time, but I did not. So, on those 3 days, I hurriedly got up, got breakfast and took off for my appointments.

   I guess I felt guilty. With all of my pronouncements of the early morning time being the best part of the day because of spending some quiet time with God, I did not even do it. What does it take to have this as a start to my day?

   As an illustration, I do not need to look beyond my breakfast of today, it is right there on the counter waiting for me. My recipe for today's first meal:



   Oatmeal, good for what ails you, putting a smile to your face. It is good and good for you, and I enjoy making it.

   But what is the secret of this recipe? Why is it so good? It is in the last line of the instructions:



   The secret ingredient is TIME.

   I can get all of the stuff together. I can get it set up in the bowl, but if I do not give it enough time, it will not turn out well.

   First of all, I guess you have to want to have that for breakfast, then you have to take the proper time to make it happen.

   It is the same way with any worthwhile endeavor. I have to feel the need for it first, the want-to of doing it, and then I have to take the time. It does not have to be 10 hours in the crock pot, but it does have to be enough to let God speak and time for me to listen.

   Today gives me two early blessings: Time with The Heavenly Father, and perfectly cooked oatmeal.

   Hard to beat

Plans, Whose Plans?

   A busy morning brought me to a doctor's waiting room this day. It was a check-up, nothing earth shattering, and this post has nothing to do with medical issues. Two things came together in my mind and brought out these thoughts.

   Incident No. 1: The book I was reading in the waiting room, while, what else, waiting, was called Damascus Countdown, by Joel Rosenberg. This fictional portrayal of some end-times scenarios regarding Israel, Syria, Iran and other countries, including the US, is set in the current day and uses the prophecies of Ezekiel 38 and 39. It is one author's take on the plans of various world leaders that center on the Middle East.

   Incident No. 2: When my check-up ended and I was ushered up to the front window to make a new appointment, my conversation with the receptionist focused on when I would like to come back for a 6 months followup. She gave me a date in September, and my thought was, "who knows what I could be doing on September 8, 2014. I had no idea, but, of course, took the date and the appointment card and went on my way.

   Does anyone know for sure how the whole situation in the Middle East will work out? God knows for sure, but how about national leaders concerned with the result? Whose plans will be carried out and whose timetable will prevail? 

   It even breaks down into such a thing as my personal life. In the great scheme of things, it is of little consequence, especially on the world stage. My appointment may be on the books of the doctor and on my personal calendar, but does that have any relevance to my being in that place at that time? Some perhaps, but I cannot know any of the things that may go on over those 180 or so days.

   This post is not about making plans. We all have to do that, but it is concerned with who is in control of those plans and their outcomes.

   It is like the boy who held the baby bird in his hand, grasping it tightly so it would not get away. As the father pried open the boy's fingers a little bit, he reminded him that holding it too tightly could kill the fragile baby. It was only by holding it loosely that he was assured of both protecting the fledgling and keeping it in his possession.

   We are in the same situation. We need to hold our plans and our schedules loosely, letting God work out the details, not only the outcomes, but all of the ins and outs along the way.

   God knows I have an appointment on 8:30, September 8, 2014. Let's see what He does with it.

   He is in control, and I am flexible.

   My pencil has both lead and an eraser.

Acting Out

   In Mark 2 this morning, I read the story of the paraplegic, brought to Jesus by 4 friends who got him to the place where he could be healed. We are not told much about either the sick man or his friends.       What is concentrated on is the healing by the Master, not about the individuals involved in putting the man in front of Jesus.

   But, I have to wonder about those 4 men. Who were they, and what was their compulsion to make this happen? Perhaps most of all, I wonder about what happened to them after the deed was done, and the man got up and walked home?

   Mark seems to tell this story for several reasons. First there is the healing by Jesus, showing His power to both forgive sin and to heal the body of the man. Then there is the indignation of the religious leaders, and the actions of the 4 men.

   No doubt the 4 Jewish men had heard their rabbis and Pharisee leaders read Scripture about care of your fellow man. They had listened to the Old Testament (their only Bible) stories, heard the Psalms and the Proverbs and knew that God wanted His people to be a kind and generous nation. They could have sat and listened to these exhortations all day long and felt satisfied that they knew what to do when the time came. They knew the way to live out their lives.

   But knowing, as good as it is and as important, was not the end all for this quartet. They acted and took the man, who could not take himself, put him in a place where a miracle could take place, and then saw the result of their labors.

   They acted out what they knew to be right.

   In my mind and putting myself into that scene, I know I would have been one of the four. My mind makes me one of the heroes, but then the question comes; would I really have gone out on this limb?

   Hearing what is right, even knowing what is the right thing to do for someone, is not the end. It is the carrying over into action that which needs to be done.

   Loving your neighbor as you love yourself is not just a pithy saying, it is a call to action.

   God, help me to see and to care.