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.

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;

“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.”

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…

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). 

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.

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:

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.

In our ongoing study through the Gospel of Mark, the last two Sundays have dealt with what Ethan has termed, “Bold Faith.”  This past Sunday, the 28th of January, his theme for Mark 11:12-14, 20-25 was “Speak to the Mountain” that dovetailed with what I have been experiencing in the last two weeks or so. 

As many of you know who follow my blog, I have been on a journey since coming out of prison that has been rather ‘interesting’ at times.  Part of that has been my struggle with PTS (Post Traumatic Stress) from my adventures in the Navy and since.  Thankfully treatment with Harbor Reins in Cary (equine-assisted psychotherapy) did much to bring healing; really the only overt sign has been my ongoing hand tremors.  I began treatment while still living in the Triangle part of North Carolina, starting several different medications and finally having a neurologist there settle on Primidone.  After moving to Asheville with beaches (Wilmington), I continued this treatment, gradually increasing the dosage to the maximum allowed.  There were times when with each increase the tremors did seem to subside somewhat, but never for very long.  While the tremors persisted despite increasing dosages, I did begin to experience some, at times, dramatic side effects in the way of easily losing my balance.  It is to the point where I am unable to ride my bicycle, and it would not be a  good thing to have some officer administer a road-side sobriety test to me as I would flunk it stone cold sober.

So, what to do?  The tremors were interfering with handwriting as well as typing (word-processing?) with the result that I all but stopped blogging.  Additionally, much of my morning devotions and Bible study diminished greatly because I was mostly unable to work the computer based study software.  I knew that God wanted me to study (big duh) and meditate on his Word, even continue to blog, but the tremors continued to make it all but impossible.  As the days became weeks and months, I noticed that I was always tired and would take frequent naps each day despite having slept for 8 to 12 hours at night!  It puzzled me why this was happening until one night while driving home from the USO-NC Jacksonville Center where I volunteer, I ‘happened’ to listen to the Good News Network station on Harker’s Island, specifically to a ministry called Know The Truth led by Pastor Phillip De Courcy.  The lesson this particular night came from Jonah 1 and something Pastor De Courcy said was like a Gibb’s slap to the back of my head (if you don’t watch NCIS you won’t understand the reference).  He said that this snoring prophet was exhausted enough to sleep through a storm because he was running from God’s will for him.  I remember ‘speaking’ to God along the lines of, “Okay, that’s why I’m tired because I’ve stopped blogging and studying, but I held up my shaking hands to the ceiling as if to show God why I’d stopped. 

So, what to do?  I spent some time praying and speaking with God about this, and it was as though he was waiting for something from me.  As with Jonah when he wound up in a rather unconventional berth (first ever sub sailor?) as a result of his disobedience, I cried out to God in anguish.  While I don’t think it was bargaining (much), I did ask God to take the tremors away.  At that moment, my hands did stop trembling!  My surprise (yeah, real faith prayer that) lasted for a bit, then I began dancing around and praising God for his delivering me.  Another decision I came to was to discontinue the medication I’d been taking to try and get my equilibrium back (something that is not usually a good idea, going from max dose to nada).  No one knew of my decision for over a week (including Kathy); there were times when the tremors would reappear, each time I would pray and ask God to once again deliver me from this barrier to what I believed he wanted of me.  Then Pastor Ethan spoke his lesson, “Speak to the Mountain!”  I’ve no idea how I managed to remain in my seat; perhaps I was so dumbfounded at this lesson being almost exact reiteration of my previous two weeks. 

So, is the struggle with tremors now over?  No, not really.  They are much less noticeable now than before, and I continue sans medication.  Interestingly enough, once I made this decision, my energy level returned to normal enabling me to awaken early each morning to spend time alone with my King and his Word even if I’d stayed up late the previous night.  As with other areas of my life, the tremors are a reminder of my weakness and dependence on God.  It is not the meds or anything other than God’s sovereignty over every aspect of my life that will enable me to honor him each day in all I say and do. 


The journey continues…

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.

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.

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.
​

So…
Last year while attending a business meeting I had asked someone what the possibility of that company having a position with them for me.  Honestly, it was more a proforma kind of request; after almost five years of either being ignored or told my services were not needed, I’d all but given up hope of ever finding meaningful work with any business or company.  That this was an organization that did much to demonstrate a willingness to reach unreached populations with health care gave me a small amount of hope.
So, I asked.
Amazingly, the person I spoke with responded in a positive manner.  For a moment I did not know how to respond.  Over 450 times I’d either heard nothing or a polite dismissal;  to have someone in a position of authority tell me that there would be a position for me bordered on the miraculous.  It would put me in a position to help those who, like me, were struggling to find a way to live a purposeful life after getting out of prison.  Those in the room with me who overheard my conversation were exultant at my finding this possibility; it felt as though my long, the night could be coming to an end.
So, we began plans to look into moving to the Wilmington area to take advantage of this.  Over the next few days, it seemed as though one door after another opened and connections made all seemed to confirm that this was happening.  In late January of this year, we did move, putting our townhome in Durham on the market.  When an offer well above asking price was made less than  24 hours after listing, it seemed yet one more confirmation that we were where we needed to be. 
I followed the website for this company daily, checking to see when the position that I had asked about was listed; within an hour of it’s being listed on the website, I had sent in an email to the appropriate person with my resume, cover letter and other material attached.  As the weeks went by I continued to hope, but then I learned that interviews had been ongoing for some time, but I had not called.  Then, one day when I checked I found the position was no longer there.
So…
​

When we moved back to North Carolina from Florida, we thought we’d found a new home in Winston-Salem, but events and my ego interceded and I found myself convicted of murder following the death of a patient I’d cared for in ICU.  I was convicted and sentenced to prison in February 1988 and thought my life was as good as over.  Convinced that I’d soon be stabbed, shot, raped or who knows what else, I settled into an uneasy ‘life’ in prison without any expectation that I’d ever get out.  BUT GOD (two of my favorite words) had not allowed that seed planted in 1980 to die and began nurturing that all but dead seed into life.  My second week at Central Prison, another prisoner invited me to accompany him to the chapel for a church service.  Not having anything else to do and looking for an excuse (ANY EXCUSE) to get out of the cacophony of noise that was K Dorm, I accepted. 
​

As I approached the conclusion of my time in prison, I was transferred to Orange Correctional Center in Hillsborough.  I had lost contact with several over my years in prison, but once at OCC I reached out to Malcolm (still had his address) and wrote him.  He wrote back that he was excited that I was so close and that he would let others know to pray for me.  Within a few months, I qualified for Community Visitor passes, but needed some sponsors willing to take me out.  I’d already connected with one of the Yokefellow volunteers (Bruce Dalton) and had been out a few times with him when the annual volunteer's banquet was held.  The yard was closed to all prisoners, but a guard came to my bunk (where I was reading) and told me that someone wanted to speak to me.  I went into the visitation area (where the banquet was being held) and saw Jim and Cecee Abrahamson; Jim standing with his arms wide open and a great big grin on his face.  We spoke briefly and he promised to start taking me out on CV passes very soon.
​
The next Sunday he and Cecee arrived to take me to the Chapel Hill Bible Church (no longer meeting on campus, but in a beautiful building off of Erwin Road).  Many of those in the Sunday School class he led knew me from BC (before Christ) and I have to confess to feeling more than a little trepidation at what kind of welcome I’d receive.  Very soon it became apparent to me that the doctrine of God’s grace was more than a textbook idea to the people there.  The warmth and welcome I felt amazed me after almost 23 years in prison.  In the following year and a half, I continued to bathe weekly in Jim’s teaching as my release date drew nearer.  Days before that happened I was transferred to Wake Correctional since my wife was then living in Wake County and so my parole officer was also in Wake County.  Soon after that, we became regular attendees of the services at the Chapel Hill Bible Church and then members; I won’t claim that I have arrived at being all that He wants me to be, but the atmosphere and teaching there had my roots going ever deeper and my heart filling more and more. 
​

Now, with our coming move to Wilmington, it is time to say goodbye or perhaps “Aloha” would be better.  So much has happened and so much has changed in who I was even since surrendering to my King.  New adventures await, but it is with a pang in my heart that we draw this chapter of my journey Home to a conclusion.  We had a saying we shared in the choir at Piedmont Correctional Institution as we concluded rehearsal on Wednesday night; “See you in the morning or in the clouds.”  I guess that’s as good as any way to speak to my family at the Chubby-C. 

Shalom.
​
The journey continues…
​

​One of the ways that I have begun my healing journey is through the Yoga Warrior class through the wonderful folks at the Military Family Ministry at Hope Community Church.  Every second and fourth Thursday I continue to stretch the envelope on my ligaments (gently though) and learn to be aware of my breathing.  We all do it but have you ever stopped, closed your eyes and concentrated on each breath as it enters and exits the body.  Of course, this is similar to what Amy Gressler at Harbor Reins has been teaching me as well as part of the Equine Therapy.  Being more cognizant of the NOW, the sensations of air moving past your body as well as the movement of the body (and the horse beneath you).  Amy had me matching my breaths with that of the horse; it amazed me how once I’d done that, it seemed the stress and tension just flowed away.

​Coming home from the Warrior Yoga class tonight, a song played on HIS Radio (107.7 here in Durham) that has always reminded me that no matter the pressure to DO, all I need to do is “…just breathe…”  Breathe is one of those songs that not only is firmly based on Scripture, but is a reminder in today’s chaotic world, that peace IS possible.  The mantras that the Yoga instructor has taught us I have replaced with another reminder that is far more biblical:

​“I am in Christ,
God is in control;
My future is secure,
Jesus owns my soul.”

​Amy sent me a self-evaluation to go over again (I’ve done it before as it is a good measure of where I am in the healing process).  Considering where I was when I first started with Harbor Reins and now, the difference is night and day.  Most of the nightmares, the self-loathing and ennui, are fading replaced by a knowledge of who I am in Christ and where I am NOW.  It fills me with gratitude to my God for directing me as he has in ‘finding’ Harbor Reins and Warrior Yoga as those two have had much to do with how far I have come in the past months.  I am also thankful to an incredible woman who has put up with me over the years (yeah, she even stuck it out while I was in prison for about 24 ½ years), but mostly I am grateful to a God, who took me in my filth and welcomed me with open arms.  And, though I do continue to blow it (oy vey, how I still blow it at times!), he is there telling me, “Just breathe.”
The journey continues…