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Who Am I Trusting?

12/30/2020

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2020 is almost gone…thankfully.  What started as just another trip around the sun seemed to devolve into a dive into the sun instead.  The storms, fires, riots, and let us not forget that little visitor from Wuhan; altogether a rather tumultuous year.  I found myself wondering what in the world that God was doing.  For a disciple of the King, you have to wonder when a sitting President who has gone so far to advance the pro-life agenda would apparently lose an election when his support seemed so overwhelming.  With the Democratic Party's stated agenda, people of faith would rightly be somewhat confused; but then this is not the first time God has perplexed His followers.

So, where do we go from here assuming that Biden and Harris are sworn into office in January?  Earlier this month, I posted a blog, “Who is in Charge?”  There I affirmed my faith and trust in He, who remains seated on the Throne and will accomplish what He knows is best.  With all that has happened (and seems to be ongoing), I, like Job, repent in thinking I know what is for the best.  2021 likely be as tumultuous but reviewing how God has upset the plans of even the faithful help me look ahead with hope and anticipation.  Not meant an exhaustive list, but how Scripture demonstrates how God’s plans are often not ours, along with some of the ‘bends in the road’ that I have taken that reinforce this.
Joseph, not the Joseph associated with Messiah’s birth, is one of my favorite (for obvious reasons for those who know my story).  His story began in Genesis 30, where Rachel gives birth to a son.  This birth, the first that Rachel had given him, became his favorite (rightly or wrongly) because of his love for Rachel.  As Joseph grew, Jacob’s fawning over him, preferring him over the other brothers, served to cause hatred to grow within them.  This hatred grew through the years until Joseph recounted to his brothers and Jacob two separate dreams (Genesis 37).  They came up with a plan to rid themselves of Joseph, and soon he was on his way to Egypt as a slave.
18 When they saw him from a distance, and before he came closer to them, they plotted against him to put him to death. 19 They said to one another, “Here comes this dreamer! 20 Now then, come and let’s kill him, and throw him into one of the pits; and we will say, ‘A vicious animal devoured him.’ Then we will see what will become of his dreams!”
Genesis 37:18-20 NASB

Reuben changed the plan to sell Joseph, and that is what happened.  So much for the dreamer, am I right?  Nope!  God was at work, even using the brothers' plans to bring about good for Jacob and his entire family.  Through an amazing series of apparent ‘coincidences,’ God moved Joseph until he was the number two person in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh.  When the brothers came to Egypt seeking food, it was Joseph they had to deal with (thus fulfilling his dreams).  When he revealed himself as Joseph, the brothers were rightly filled with fear on their return trip.  Reflecting the grace and mercy of the God of Jacob, Joseph reassures them;
Then Joseph could not control himself in front of everyone standing before him, and he shouted, “Have everyone leave me!” So there was no one with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. 2 Then he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard about it. 3 And Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph! Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, for they were terrified in his presence.
4 Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Please come closer to me.” And they came closer. And he said, “I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold to Egypt. 5 Now do not be grieved or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me ahead of you to save lives.

Genesis 45:1-5 NASB
Back, as if from the dead, Joseph becomes the salvation of his family in a way that no man could have done or imagined.
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Job, ah yes, my old friend Job.  A righteous man whom God brags on to the Adversary knowing how Satan would respond.  This man, whom God viewed as righteous and blameless, went through one trial after another; he lost home, property, and even all his children in one day.  He persisted in his trust and faith, even when he next lost even his health.  Despite the agony his life had devolved into, Job trusted God!  During the dialogue with his ‘friends,’ Job does begin to wonder (who would not?), but in the end, he is honored by God (after a bit of chastening).  His confession to God (Job 42:1-6) is something that I come to again and again through this year as I do wonder (as I titled the previous blog post), “Who is in Charge?”  Through horrific trials and a threesome of friends who disparage him, in the end, Job emerges, again, as the man in whom God is pleased.


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David, the sweet hymnist of Scripture, is also overlooked as having any future other than being a shepherd (the lowest profession in Israel), became king of God’s people, but after some somewhat troubling times.  Going from the sheepfold to the palace, serving Saul, the king, was quite a step, even considering how God used him to defeat Israel’s enemies.  To then be the victim of Saul’s envy and wrath, fleeing and living in the wilderness in fear for his life, seemed to negate any chance at further usefulness.  But God (my two favorite words in Scripture) was molding and shaping David to become the king that foretold the ultimate King to sit on David’s throne.  Even with his indolent lifestyle after becoming king with the resultant failure highlighted in 2 Samuel 11 shows how, depending on any person is a recipe for disaster.  David believed his press and soon left himself open to the temptations that afflict us all.  Through this failure, God again outlines His grace and mercy and points to how sin does have consequences that we will face in this life.  Combined with Joseph's example in Genesis, we see here a ‘type’ of the King who was to come (and will be coming again!). 

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Jesus (or Y’shua) invaded His creation in a most unorthodox manner, being implanted as a man within the womb of a virgin teenager, born in poverty far from the palace.  Think of it; the Savior was born in a cave outside of Bethlehem where animals were kept.  His life, even after He began His ministry, was out of the limelight.  No one could have looked at this humble carpenter and seen that He is God with us (Immanuel) as prophesied by Isaiah (7:10, 14; 8:8).  However, throughout His ministry, we see examples of His power over disease, disability, and even death.  Speaking to a violent storm, Jesus demonstrated His command of creation, and in His death and resurrection, He forever defeated death, hell, and the grave.  Even after His resurrection, we see how the apostles were still expecting Jesus to establish His earthly kingdom then (Acts 1:6).  This uncommon man who is King of all creation lived in a way to not show us how to live but to show us how we can never live a life earning heaven.  We can’t, but He did, and in His suffering, death, and resurrection, He opened the Way for all humanity.

Now, my life has never been much of a success; each time I seem to ‘have it all together,’ I trip and wind up in the mud (or the “…slough of despond…” as John Bunyan put it in his “Pilgrim’s Progress.”) 
I destroyed my first marriage and a possible career in the Navy with behavior that was to be diagnosed with PTSD (back in 1975, this was yet to be recognized).  My life seemed to be spiraling downward in some ways but going well in others.  Leaving the Navy and a budding career, I chose to pursue a passion I found as an EMT and entered UNC to obtain a bachelor’s degree in Nursing.  There again, my symptoms occasionally would erupt without warning (or seeming reason); trying to maintain friendships, not to mention my first marriage, was a lost cause, it seemed.  Early success seemed to point to a brighter future, but again, my wanting fame and fortune led me to decisions that brought me to Central Prison in Raleigh, NC in February 1988.  As I got out of the car that transported me that cold, sleeting night, I remember looking up at the outer facade of that place and remember thinking, “This is where I belong.”
But God had a plan.  Several weeks after arriving, someone invited me to go to one of the worship services, and more wanting to get out of the dormitory for any reason, I agreed.  The first time was kind of ‘meh’ to be honest.  I sat there and listened, but…nothing.  Back in the usual day-to-day of life at Central Prison, I quickly forgot anything that had been shared.  The next time, well then, that was a bit different. 
To this day, I cannot recall what Chaplain Eugene Wigelsworth taught or any of the music used during the service; when the Chaplain said at the end that anyone recognizing their need for a Savior to come forward, I remember feeling like it was now or never.  Standing in front of Chaplain Wigelsworth, I began to sob uncontrollably.  He spoke to me briefly, telling me to come to his office after the service concluded.  That started a journey that continues to this day.  Unfortunately, no steady climb upward, but a rise and fall that were charted out would not seem to have any rhyme or purpose. 
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Being released in 2011, I discovered why so many ‘re-offend’ as trying to find a job (even as a garbage man) was nearly impossible with a capital felony.  A good friend suggested a career in real estate; one Broker-in-Charge took me under her wing and encouraged me, so I enrolled in a course to prepare to take the state exam as a real estate broker.  This restart seemed a great fit, and I did manage to pass the course and the state exam for broker successfully.  But…the issue of the felony meant that I was not automatically licensed as my classmates.  Instead, I was to have a hearing before the NC State Real Estate Commission to evaluate whether or not this would happen.  When I was told to bring a lawyer, I felt the first fear that this too was to end badly.  The repeat of the trial from 1987 (for that is what it was, only this time the end was pre-ordained), but God gave me an amazing peace.  When asked how it went by a close friend, I shared how they had said no, but that the King was still on the throne.

As with this past year, life continues not always in a way that seems to be leading to something good, but always with a recognition that God is with me.  The same lessons God has taught me through the years I have had to relearn (over and over?), but Immanuel speaks to me through His servants and His Word.  I have accepted that having a career is over; being almost 70, I am definitely nearer the end than the beginning.  I am okay with that; since Kathy retired, we have more time to spend together, and the cats are there to provide some comfort.  There is purpose in guiding folks to a parking space at Crosswinds Church and preparing healthy meals for Kathy and me. 


So, coming full circle, here we are at the end of 2020, and 2021 looks grim, but God is in control.  Things may not have gone the way we would want, but we can and must trust the One who knows our end from the beginning.  I can look forward to seeing what He will do in 2021 and rest in the knowledge that God does do all things well.


The journey continues…

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Am I Peculiar?

5/15/2020

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In times like these, it can be puzzling somehow, that if we don’t ‘go’ to church, are we really the church?  What is the church?
 
In my reading last night in 1 Peter, I came to the second chapter, where Peter describes believers as “…living stones…”  In light of the ongoing isolation foisted upon us by our Governor here in North Carolina and the way that many churches have gone online to teach and worship, this really seemed to speak to me.  It’s always been my belief that the building is not the church; those who gather there (or not) are the church.  Some time ago, I had shared this with someone who had been skipping coming to church services and used the analogy of how he was one brick in the building of the church.  Picture everyone coming together as bricks gathering to create a structure; each that does not arrive will leave an empty space making the structure incomplete.

Peter goes on to compare/contrast those in Christ with those apart from Jesus, that those who now refuse Him will stumble and fall while we who are in Christ can declare God’s goodness and light.

"9 But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light."                                                                                1 Peter 2:9 NLT
The KJV puts it a bit differently:
"9 But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light…"
1 Peter 2:9 KJV (emphasis added)

As with many things, the English language has undergone many changes over the years.  In today's vernacular, peculiar has a far different meaning than it did in 1611 (much as gay and some other examples I can quickly think of), but peculiar?  Reading in the NLT (or many other translations) shows how as disciples of Jesus, we are called by Him to be different, not peculiar in the modern sense (though some of us can be), but to be set apart from what culture describes as normative. 

"a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession. Peter continues to describe his Christian readers in terms the OT uses only for the ancient nation of Israel. “Chosen,” “royal,” and “holy” describe collectively the nature of the relationship between Christian believers and God. a chosen people. See Isa 43:10, 20–21; see also Eph 1:4 and note. All who believe in Christ—whether Jew or Gentile, regardless of nationality or ethnicity—make up the chosen people. a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession. See Exod 19:5–6. As God’s royal priesthood, all Christians are to be holy and set apart for the Lord’s service as priests were expected to be in the ancient world. Regardless of one’s nationality by birth, Christians, by new birth, form a new nation in the world that is set apart for God (Mark 12:17). This holy nation is “God’s special possession” in a way that the rest of humankind is not. Christians are set apart to declare the praises of God in a world that rejects him, and they are in some times and places despised for it."
NIV Biblical Theology Study Bible
Copyright © 2019 by Zondervan.

So, what does it mean, as the church (the Body, not the building) to be peculiar or set apart?  Peter uses language in his epistle that would have shocked or even enraged ancient Jews as it is the same language applied to God’s chosen people, Israel, and specifically to the priests whose duties separated them from the ordinary Jew.  Such passages as Ex. 19:5-6; Deut. 4:20; 7:6; 14:2; Isa. 43:20-21; and Mal. 3:17 all were, in the original context, thought to be speaking of and to only the Jew.  How is it that Peter is speaking to Gentiles in this way, and what does it mean?

We, as Jesus’ disciples’, are to be different than those apart from Him.  We are not meant to be weird, strange, or odd necessarily (though many think us so), but to reflect to the world around us the wonder of God’s grace and light. 

So, peculiar doesn’t sound so bad; I kind of like it!

Even now, with a proclaimed quarantine and isolation, we are His and must use every ability at our disposal to let His light shine.  Many church families, Crosswinds Church here in Leland, The Bridge Church in Wilmington, and the Chapel Hill Bible Church, have taken their services online and shared them with many who would usually avoid ‘going to church.’  This supposed pandemic has provided His Church with an opportunity for being a witness that is unparalleled since the time of the Caesars.  In strict obedience to Governor Cooper’s mandate, we have been ‘having church’ online (and the plans are to continue broadcasting online even after we have begun meeting together in our building).  This is as it should be as we are called to obey lawful authority unless and until they are telling us to do what is anathema to God.

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Can You Go Home Again?

1/25/2020

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In The Lord of the Rings, the Return of the King, there is a particular scene that always seems to grab me by the throat. Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are riding back to the Shire when Gandalf notices that Frodo seems somewhat disconnected from the others. When queried by Gandalf, Frodo’s response is particularly poignant;


“’ Are you in pain, Frodo.”
 
“It is my shoulder. The wound aches, and the memory of darkness is heavy on me.”
 
“Alas! There are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured,” said Gandalf.
 
“I fear it may be so with mine,” said Frodo. “There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same, for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?”
 
Gandalf did not answer.’”
 
Gandalf had fought in the same war as Frodo, and so understood the wounds that are often unseen, yet remain deep within those who fought.  Changes that occur within anyone who has seen conflict are little understood by those who never have done so.  It seems to me that often even my beloved wife, Kathy, just doesn’t get it despite the many times I have tried to explain my wounding.  Enduring the unendurable and moving on (“Just get over it already!” is something I have heard) is, at best, an exercise in futility.  Even speaking with other Veterans can be less than helpful as we each have experienced a different part of ‘the elephant’ that is experiencing combat in its various forms.  ‘Seeing the elephant’ is a descriptive phrase first used following the Civil War of those who had fought.
 
“In some military quarters, having "seen the elephant" has been used as shorthand for having experienced combat.”

War and its many facets, affect those who have been through it in many ways. Even those in the same unit can have dramatically different views on what has happened; for those who seek to understand what the other has gone through, is best illustrated by the parable of five blind men discovering an elephant;
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“A group of blind men heard that a strange animal, called an elephant, had been brought to the town, but none of them were aware of its shape and form. Out of curiosity, they said: "We must inspect and know it by touch, of which we are capable." So, they sought it out, and when they found it, they groped about it. In the case of the first person, whose hand landed on the trunk, said: "This being is like a thick snake." For another one whose hand reached its ear, it seemed like a kind of fan. As for another person, whose hand was upon its leg, said, the elephant is a pillar-like a tree-trunk. The blind man who placed his hand upon its side said the elephant, "is a wall." Another who felt its tail described it as a rope. The last felt its tusk, stating the elephant is that which is hard, smooth and like a spear.”


For me to have an intelligent conversation with a MARINE who has been through ground combat (or for him to understand my view from inside a submarine), we must first realize that, like the blind men, we have ‘touched’ a different part of the same beast.  However, for the person who has never served…well, that is a different animal altogether. 

As with Frodo, there can be no ‘going back’ to the person we once were or viewing the world from the same eyes.  Hopefully, those who love us will understand and continue to walk with us through life.  My travels through life have shown me that few will remain despite the idiocy I can do as my mind fights with itself.  Through the good and evil, they stay and my heart treasures them above all riches.  My beloved wife, Kathy, is chief among these for she sees (and experiences) the depressive episodes, the rage that can appear without warning, and just wondering if I’ll ever be sane again.  Our faith sustains us through it all (both while I was in prison and since), and Scripture is a constant reminder that Jesus is the “God Who Stays.”
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Again, like Frodo, though, it seems that until I leave this life (pictured in his journeying with Bilbo, Gandalf, and the elves to the land across the Western Sea from Middle Earth), my struggles and my desire for my friends to walk with me, will continue.  God’s grace and the real friends that I have found (that God has gifted me with) are a reminder that no matter the struggles and failures, there is a “far country” waiting.

The journey continues…

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My Wayback Machine

11/16/2019

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​One of the many cartoons I watched as a kid (probably would again if it were on) involved a Mr. Wizard and his young protege', Tooter, the turtle. Their adventures involved Mr. Wizard sending Tooter into the past to meet various persons and become involved in many a misadventure.  Once in the throes of such a catastrophe, Tooter would yell out, "Help Mr. Wizard!  I don't want to be a 'whatever' anymore!" Tooter would become enamored of some dering do he'd read about and ask Mr. Wizard to enable him to be such (cowboy, pilot, pirate, whatever) to fulfill his idea of life in whatever hero he wanted to become.  Invariably, Tooter would discover his dreams of being whatever would run afoul of reality resulting in his calling out for rescue.

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​There is ample evidence of comparison between young Tooter and myself when I recall my adventures (and misadventures) as a youngster acting out many so-called heroic encounters with all manner of imaginary beings.  From Flash Gordon to Sgt. Rock, as well as a myriad of other heroes, I would be a hero saving humanity from whatever scourge or enemy my vivid imagination could conjure up.  These imaginary adventures were mostly harmless, and it amazed me, looking back, how much time I spent doing such things.  One time some friends and my two brothers built a raft (ala Huckleberry Finn) out of some pallets, two discarded fuel tanks from an aircraft junkyard at MCAS (Marine Corps Air Station) Cherry Point, NC.  We journeyed in our raft up and down Slocum Creek, which bordered the housing development where we lived.  Such trips usually were an all-day affair; there was something about lazing away a hot summer day doing nothing but poling our raft up and down this one section of Slocum Creek, imagining all manner of brave exploits.  Again, mostly harmless until one day, we allowed the current to capture our raft and take us to a point where the poles we had could no longer reach the bottom.  At that point, we were out of control and drifting slowly and inexorably toward the Neuse River.
We thought it just another neat way to further our experiences as young heroes, little realizing that once out of Slocum Creek and into the current of the Neuse River, our next stop could have been the Atlantic Ocean.  To say that our craft was not seaworthy is an understatement, ignorance being bliss we were enjoying ourselves.

​There is ample evidence of comparison between young Tooter and myself when I recall my adventures (and misadventures) as a youngster acting out many so-called heroic encounters with all manner of imaginary beings.  From Flash Gordon to Sgt. Rock, as well as a myriad of other heroes, I would be a hero saving humanity from whatever scourge or enemy my vivid imagination could conjure up.  These imaginary adventures were mostly harmless, and it amazed me, looking back, how much time I spent doing such things.  One time some friends and my two brothers built a raft (ala Huckleberry Finn) out of some pallets, two discarded fuel tanks from an aircraft junkyard at MCAS (Marine Corps Air Station) Cherry Point, NC.  We journeyed in our raft up and down Slocum Creek, which bordered the housing development where we lived.  Such trips usually were an all-day affair; there was something about lazing away a hot summer day doing nothing but poling our raft up and down this one section of Slocum Creek, imagining all manner of brave exploits.  Again, mostly harmless until one day, we allowed the current to capture our raft and take us to a point where the poles we had could no longer reach the bottom.  At that point, we were out of control and drifting slowly and inexorably toward the Neuse River.
We thought it just another neat way to further our experiences as young heroes, little realizing that once out of Slocum Creek and into the current of the Neuse River, our next stop could have been the Atlantic Ocean.  To say that our craft was not seaworthy is an understatement, ignorance being bliss we were enjoying ourselves.
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​The rest of my life up until March 6, 1988, remained the same as I blithely sailed along down the river of life, not realizing I needed rescuing most urgently.  When I left the Navy at the behest of my first wife, I initially went to NC State University in the Nuclear Engineering program there.  I discovered through interviewing at various power plants located in Virginia, North, and South Carolina that these plants were NOT built or run to the standards that I'd been used to while a nuclear-trained electrician in submarines.  As I had been enjoying my volunteer activity as an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician), the choice made was to change majors and schools, transferring to UNC and working on a major in nursing instead.  Concurrent with that, I also earned my paramedic license, something which, together with working as an RN in emergency departments, fed into my desire to be heroic.  As it turned out, my talent to remain calm in stressful situations and to assess and treat patients, did much to advance me in the eyes of superiors wherever I worked.  I was excellent at my job; the trouble was that I knew it.

The years passed, and my pride in my efforts continued to build; me, myself and I are as unholy as any three things can be.  One day, that pride led me to a decision that would forever change my life, ending my career as an RN and paramedic and sending me to prison for almost 24 years (23 years, seven months, and 25 days to be exact).  As when on the raft floating down the Slocum Creek, my life was floating downstream (like any dead fish), headed for destruction.  To many, that destruction was my going to prison; most of my so-called friends abandoned me when this happened, and I found myself at Central Prison in Raleigh, NC, without hope of ever getting out.

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​In such an environment, I came to realize that this was the place for me. Pride had led me to believe my dreams were real and that all that "I" had accomplished was because of my abilities.  Silly, but no less stupid than my fantasies as a youngster.  In this dark, dangerous place where hope was dead, and existence was more survive than thrive, I had nowhere to turn to for help.  An invitation to attend the weekly worship service in the chapel was welcomed, not for any recognition on my part of my need, but to get out of the crowding for a time.  The next week I attended the service again (same reason, the overcrowding in the processing dormitory was beyond imagining), but something unexpected happened to me.  That "...still, small voice..." whispered my name, and I surrendered to His call.

​My journey of faith has been like the screen of an oscilloscope, no straight line, but a confusing multi-directional squiggle that lacked definition.  Even today, with the areas in which struggle goes on, failure is a companion that, while I may not embrace, I am all too familiar.  Thankfully, God does not leave me there.  To lose my career that was satisfying and rewarding for a life of unemployment (were it not for my wife remaining with me and welcoming me into her home when I was released, I would be homeless), but I can go on because of Whose I am.  One book I read while in prison impacted me greatly, and the words from the author continue to reverberate in my heart.
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​Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: "Bless You, Prison!""Solzhenitsyn in the 1950s at the Kazakh prison camp that inspired 'A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich.'"
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: It was granted to me to carry away from my prison years on my bent back, which nearly broke beneath its load, this essential experience: how a human being becomes evil and how good.
In the intoxication of youthful successes, I had felt myself to be infallible, and I was, therefore, cruel.
In the surfeit of power, I was a murderer and an oppressor.
In my most evil moments, I was convinced that I was doing good, and I was well supplied with systematic arguments.
It was only when I lay there on rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good.
Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart—and through all human hearts. . . .
That is why I turn back to the years of my imprisonment and say, sometimes to the astonishment of those about me:
"Bless you, prison!"
I . . . have served enough time there.
I nourished my soul there, and I say without hesitation: "Bless you, prison, for having been in my life!"
—Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago: 1918-1956, Volume 2, pp. 615-617.



The time in prison and the loss of career and respect is a paltry price to pay for an eternity with my King.  I'm not Home yet, and I continue to fail my King, but one thing I do...I press on.

The journey continues...
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Who Me,  Jonah?

5/30/2019

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There are times when no matter how mature we think we are in our walk with Christ, words spoken that cause harm and grief to another happen and we are left to wonder from where such had come.  Words that were not expressed in anger or overt discrimination, but did in hindsight, convey a message that is all too common in society throughout the history of the world where one culture or ethnicity considers another less than itself.  Racism is an ugly word and one that has been bandied about recently for political gain by far too many; it is something that all who are human struggle against, yes even those in Christ.


Jonah was a man called as a prophet of God and that gives me hope.  Why him, you may wonder?  Pastor Swindoll of Insight for Living has been teaching through that book in the Old Testament and has not pulled any punches about this less than charming and likeable Jew.  Jonah was a man who was called to go and preach a message to a people he HATED and he went in the reverse direction in direct disobedience of God’s command!  God said to go East to Ninevah and Jonah went West, going down to Joppa to find a ship bound as far as he could get from there as he could get by going further West to Tarshish (modern day Spain).  Finding himself such a ship, he goes on board and goes down into the hold and goes to sleep, figuring his troubles are over.
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Jonah continues his downward spiral, finally landing within the belly of a great fish that God prepared for his racist prophet who stewed in this fishes juices (and his own) for three days before repenting.  At this point the fish apparently had all of Jonah he could stomach and landed this racist prophet on the beach where he received the same command from God a second time.  This time he obeyed…sort of.  It was a message of destruction for his hated enemies after all; one he must have loved to deliver.  So Jonah delivers the message then camps out to the east of the city to await the promised destruction…


You all know the story; from the king to the lowliest peasant a fear of the judgement of God leads to repentance and a turning away from the evil that characterized this people.  Jonah was livid!  The most successful evangelist and prophet in history and he was upset because although he had obeyed God, his heart just wasn’t in it.  He still was a racist; he still hated the Ninevites. 

What is the take away from a study of this book of the Old Testament?  How are we to apply to our lives such a story?  Thinking about this after listening to Pastor Swindoll and that “…still, small voice…” there are several things that come to mind:
 
  1. Jonah tried to run away from God, to avoid the plan that God had for him to do.  He who holds the universe in his hands…impossible, yet this prophet tried to flee from God!  Ridiculous, yet how often have we done the same?  How often have I run from the one who has called to me over and over as he sent his hound on my trail throughout my life?  Even once I had surrendered, time and again I have sought to turn away to my own way…just like Jonah.
  2. Jonah surrenders (sort of?) in the belly of the fish.  He does recognize his plight, that there is no one that can save him from death.  In 1987 I was indicted and subsequently convicted for murder, sentenced to life in prison and thus entering my own ‘great fish’ wherein I expected to spend the rest of my life.  Raised in the Catholic church I had little to no exposure to Scripture other than a brief time when I went to the Chapel Hill Bible Church while attending UNC.  Still, my heart was dark and I remember looking up at the outside wall of Central Prison that cold, sleeting February night when I arrived and thought, “This is where I belong.”
  3. God’s word or call comes a second time to Jonah and this time he obeys…sort of.  It is a word of judgement against Ninevah and that suits this racist prophet very much;“Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!”   (Jonah 3:4 ESV)  In my case my being within prison walls was as if Jonah had suddenly been transformed into becoming an Ninevite.  All my life I had been one of the ‘good’ guys; this had been reinforced when working as a paramedic; the old line from the TV series Beretta came back to haunt me over and over, “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.”  Here I was, in Ninevah though a Jew (as it were).  The first weeks are now a blur; it wasn’t until someone invited me to the weekly worship service in the chapel that anything really changed (honestly I went to escape the crowding in the dormitory…picture the Chicago stock yard).  The first week, nothing much happened; the second Sunday, Chaplain Eugene Wigelsworth was preaching (to this day I have no idea what he said, only that a ‘feeling’ that at the end of his sermon it was ‘now or never.’ 
  4. So, Jonah obeys and preaches the sermon (gleefully no doubt), then sets up outside the eastern part of the city to await the destruction to come.  BUT GOD…. His plan was very different from what Jonah was hoping for; instead of death, there came life to the Ninevites.  Jonah’s self-pity and anger at God reflects how his heart was NOT changed, but what about my heart?
We all must set a watch over our lips (as Scripture enjoins us), especially in these turbulent times.  Offense, even when not intended, is difficult to overcome and impossible to forget.  It will taint a relationship and can harm or destroy fellowship within a church community.   Please, let our words bring healing and not hurt. 

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”   
Philippians 4:8 ESV            

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Converging Paths in a Deep Wood

1/23/2019

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The last week or so has been 'interesting' to say the least, both from a spiritual and personal viewpoint (and sadly, despite walking with Christ since 1988, there are times when I do seem to want to keep the two paths separate!). The image shown is of two paths or roads diverging in a wood (much as my favorite poet in his poem, "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. In this case, both from what has happened in the spiritual and 'physical' realm, both have seemed to converge and, with apologies to Mr. Frost, "...that has made all the difference."

The week long fast (from food, television, Facebook.  I did post some things but did not peruse through at al. No electronic media of any kind other than that required by work...more on that in a bit; all of this combined to heighten my sense of God’s presence in my everyday (man, why not do this on a more regular basis Shook?  Talk about an Urkel moment!  It seemed easier this year than last, but also more challenging because of another battle that I was in danger of losing at work (and, in actuality, had already lost). 

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One of our clients there was rather adept at getting inside my head and maneuvering me to do favors for her; things that seemed innocent on the surface, but over time began to push further and further over the line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior.  Honestly, it was a big ego lift for this 20-something lady to be hitting on me (even if in my own mind); looking back, it is terrifying to think of how far this could have gone.  My surpervisor saw what was happening and warned me (twice!) and on the observed third time, I left them little choice but to terminate me as an employee.


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Shame, regret and deep remorse for the loss of what could have been a witness for Christ in that dark place.  Instead, I allowed the enemy to subvert me into a trap that is all too common in and out of Scripture.  Time spent with Pastor Ethan and my wife began the healing; the Friday night of worship was a catharsis that continued the healing, particularly one song, “I AM a Child of the King” (emphasis intentional)! 


Today, while sitting at the bar in Breakthrough Nutrition, an impulse hit me to share with a college student sitting next to me who works some part-time helping out Nick and Blair in the store.  I had some cash in my wallet and just felt that she could use it for whatever; to see the expression on her face when I gave it to her let me know that I had ‘heard’ correctly.  Leaving right after that, as I walked to the car I sort of remembered hearing the phrase about doing as much good as you can while you can.  I could not remember the whole thing or where it came from, so I looked it up:

“Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.”

--John Wesley

This idea or compulsion is, pushing me now to do so with my time, talent, as well as finances.  I’m not sure why NOW.  It could be the looming surgery in February or something else that only God knows about (and I like it that way), but those words seem to me to fit with not only what Ethan has been sharing, but what God has been sharing since, “In the beginning…”

Let’s see what happens.
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God in diapers?

12/16/2017

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This time of year we celebrate the birth of a single baby; many would have him remain such as a baby is not at all threatening to the world and its’ ways.  The fact that he did become an adult, minister in and around Israel and Judah for about three years, performing feats that even extra-biblical sources extolled was the hinge on which history turned.  From that point on, mankind would have real hope that had been given away long before in a garden; not because of his life, but because of who he was, how he lived and died and his physical resurrection from the dead.  But that is not the focus of my thoughts here; instead, it is how God did invade his creation, not in might and power, but in weakness and humility.

Think of it, had the Son come to earth as the mightiest,  most majestic ruler of all time; taking the physical form to walk among men, even then that would have been a humbling beyond our imaginations.  God in the flesh; try to wrap your mind around that!  From eternity past, the Father, Son, and Spirit had reveled in the relationship they had as God and from their great love overflowed creation.  But also from eternity past, he knew of man’s fall and had a plan (not a Plan B as some suggest) to restore the broken relationship even before creation, before it happened; amazing grace indeed!

This plan was something that would never have occurred to any human as it seems the reverse of what was needed.  As with the conquest of Jericho (Joshua 6), this plan appears insanity itself and any who would believe it right equally crazy.  As with God commanding Joshua to have Israel march around the city in silence until the last day, then just shouting?  Ridiculous any sane military mind would say.  But it worked!

Paul, once the up and coming Pharisee Saul, put it like this;

“ 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,[a] 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,[b] 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,[c] being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  Philippians 2:5-8 ESV

Scholars have wrestled with what it meant when Paul wrote, emptied himself.  One source within Bible Gateway Plus seeks to explain it in the following manner;

2:7 made himself nothing. Or “emptied himself.” He did this, not by giving up deity, but by laying aside his glory (see Jn 17:5) and submitting to the humiliation of becoming a man (see 2Co 8:9 and note). Jesus is truly God and truly man. Another view is that he emptied himself, not of deity itself, but of its prerogatives—the high position and glory of deity. nature of a servant. Emphasizes the full reality of his servant identity (see Mk 10:45 and note). As a servant, he was always submissive to the will of the Father (see Lk 22:42; Jn 4:34 and note).
NIV Study Bible Notes
NIV Study Bible, Copyright © 1985, 1995, 2002, 2008, 2011 by Zondervan.

God in diapers!  In this weak form, this helpless form, Christ came to his creation, growing into adulthood while remaining a carpenter’s son until the time for his ministry came.  John the baptizer introduced him at the river Jordan, and he began to gather disciples even then.  Walking in the middle of the Jewish people, unrecognized by most as he just did not fit their preconceived ideas of who Messiah would be.  Finally betrayed and denied by those closest to him, he was executed by the Roman government at the behest of the religious rulers; but there the story does not end, it was only beginning.

His-story (history) continues today; an inexorable march to an end he predicted through prophets long ago.  This God in diapers is helpless no longer, but mighty to save for any who seek him.  Sadly, for many, the day is coming when they will be forced to kneel to this King of kings; those who refuse him now are in that majority condemned forever. Until then it may seem the world is out of control, but the story (His-story) is not yet concluded.

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Psalm 131 Cat

10/3/2017

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A Song of Ascents. Of David.131 O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

3 O Israel, hope in the Lord
    from this time forth and forevermore.
David's song, written some say during his flight from Saul, echoes a heart that longs for God; not so much for the things or presents God may give David (relief from Saul's persecution or to be elevated to the throne as had been prophesied over him so many years before).  No, David's heart longs for God's presence​, not the things God may give. 
Matthew Henry's commentary on this Psalm echo what God has been speaking to me through it;
"This psalm is David’s profession of humility, humbly made, with thankfulness to God for his grace, and not in vain-glory. It is probable enough that (as most interpreters suggest) David made this protestation in answer to the calumnies of Saul and his courtiers, who represented David as an ambitious aspiring man, who, under pretense of a divine appointment, sought the kingdom, in the pride of his heart. But he appeals to God, that, on the contrary, I. He aimed at nothing high nor great, Ps. 131:1. II. He was very easy in every condition which God allotted him (Ps. 131:2); and therefore, III. He encourages all good people to trust in God as he did, Ps. 131:3. Some have made it an objection against singing David’s psalms that there are many who cannot say, “My heart is not haughty,” etc. It is true there are; but we may sing it for the same purpose that we read it, to teach and admonish ourselves, and one another, what we ought to be, with repentance that we have come short of being so, and humble prayer to God for his grace to make us so." 
How many times I have cried  out to God for His presents, but how often have I really only wanted His presence as a child no longer desiring the breasts from which they received nourishment, but only to be with or to be held by their mother?  My 'Professor of Theology,' has been at it again.  Many times through  the day she will seek me out, crying so piteously that you'd think she was in severe pain.  As soon as I pick her up, the purring begins as she just snuggles into my shoulder.  She wasn't hungry or thirsty; she just wanted to be with me!
Do I pursue God as C.J. often pursues me, longing only for His presence?  In  his book, The Pursuit of God,​ A.W. Tozer speaks to this subject much more  eloquently than I ever could, but many of the themes in there echo deep within me whenever I re-read it.  I long for God, but often wonder is it because I know He is such a gracious giver.  My heart longs to be of a mind that I seek Him throughout the day only to be with Him!  Many times C.J. will seek to interrupt me in something I am doing, touching my knee with her forepaw seeking to gain my attention.  How can a loving servant (some would say owner, but cat servants know) say no to such an appeal?  So, I know that whenever I call to my King, He will be there to listen, to 'hold' me, and to provide the best  gift of all; His presence in my life.
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My Professor of Theology

9/14/2017

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I have been taught different truths before by C.J., our somewhat brain-damaged cat, but this morning was particularly wondrous.
​

​My mind awakened this morning running at warp 12; it just wouldn’t  shut up and let me get back to sleep.  Finally surrendering to the inevitable, I got up and went into the ‘reading room’ to spend some time just trying to calm my spirit.  C.J. normally follows me around in my morning ablutions and medicine taking, waiting (impatiently) for me to pick her up and hold her on my shoulder.  It had never occurred to me how persistent she was throughout the day in having me do this; yes, she liked it when I refilled the food bowl or put fresh water in the water dish (with some ice mind you), but mostly just to be held on my shoulder and stroked.  To be completely honest, at times it was rather distracting, even irritating to be pursued by this little creature.  She would not stop crying until I acquiesced to her demands and picked her up!
​Then, finally, this morning…
​Awakened by a multitude of worries and problems, I just couldn’t go back to sleep.  Getting out of bed and getting dressed, I wandered out into the ‘reading room’ and sat down to begin my daily devotions.  It seemed that something was bothering me deep down and it just escaped me.  Opening my web browser on my laptop, I connected to Bible Gateway and began searching for a study or devotional centered on the Psalms.  Not finding what “I” was looking for, I just started looking for what was there and found Eternal Words, a series that combined Scripture readings with music designed to, “…bring Joy to your heart and Peace to your soul…”  I opened the first one, and within it, a quote from Psalm 131 struck my heart as what I’d been looking for;
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

​Psalm 131:2 ESV
Okay, but what does that have to do with my roiled thoughts and anxiety this morning, and how does that fit in with C.J. normally following me around and crying to be picked up.  Wait a minute; it’s been over 30 minutes since the bed spat me out and no C.J.  Then it struck me; she wanted nothing more than to be held and cuddled by me.  No treats, food, water (even ice!); she just wanted to spend some time being held on my shoulder.
​
​A weaned child wants nothing so much from the mother other than just that thing. They may be hungry (especially once they are teenagers!), but the Psalmist is speaking of the desire for God’s presence rather than His presents.  Magically (stop your laughing!), C.J. appeared crying to be picked up.  We spent over 30 minutes with my holding her close to my shoulder as we both reveled in the time spent together.
​That is what God seemed to be telling me; more than all that He has already gifted me with, He desires my heart to long to be with Him, to pursue Him and for that to be not only sufficient but to be completely satisfying to my soul.
Amazing how my little professor of Theology has once again taught me so much.
​
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Wonder-full!

2/17/2017

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Last summer a good friend invited Kathy and I down to Emerald Isle to enjoy a stay at the beach.
  The house was located on the beach with its own boardwalk out to a gazebo with stairs down to a path to beach; for this old sailor and former surf bum, it was close to heaven.  The next few days were filled with laughter and fun with Tom and Bernadene as we lazed time away enjoying the beach and just relaxing with good friends.
​

As our time to leave approached it seemed that I needed some alone time to just enjoy the sound and smell of the surf.  I awakened at 4:00 AM and got dressed (well, as dressed as any sensible person does at the beach), went downstairs to make coffee, then went out to the gazebo to sit.  It was pitch dark, some lights scattered up and down the beach from the different houses, but looking out over the ocean was without any light source.  While I could hear the waves and occasionally glimpse the froth of the surf, it was as if I was within a warm, salty cocoon. 
​

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As I sat there I began to think of the way that God had moved in my life to bring me to this moment.  Over and over the idea of a God who made all of what I was sensing, whose hand held the universe, but whose attention was focused so singularly upon me when I was so adamant at remaining rebellious that only grace could begin to explain what had happened in my life leading up to that moment.  An overwhelming feeling of gratitude and awe that after all that I had done and all that I’d been through, God loved me!
​

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​Wonder! 
​

I began to sing some of the hymns I’d learned through listening to the Bible Broadcasting Network while in prison.  One hymn led to another as my eyes filled with tears and my heart overflowed with gratitude and praise.  I’m not sure how long this went on, but as the sun began to provide a glimmer of light on the horizon, my singing stopped and I sat and just reveled in the knowledge that I was not only free of the physical prison that had constrained me, but of the more insidious prison of my own making.  The freedom I obtained on release from prison was something that I had anticipated (and at times wondered if it would ever be mine), but even better was the sure knowledge that because of Christ’s work on my behalf, even while still incarcerated, I was more free than most of those outside of the walls that held me.  No more was I a slave to the old man and to experience that with my physical freedom (especially once I had satisfied the parole requirements that went with my release) was something I hope I never forget or take for granted.

As the sun showed itself, my wife and friends came out and we all sat and just enjoyed another day at the beach.  My wife kept asking me why I was smiling so much; I would just shrug.  The memory of that time still fills me with wonder and does not fail to bring a smile to my face.
​
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