I’m back.  It’s been a while, but God laid something on my heart to write, so here it is.  I awoke this morning to a dream that I can’t recall, but the first thing that popped into my mind was the verse from Matthew that you will see if you make it to the end of this story….I drove to work, couldn’t get the verse out of my head, and God said write a story, so I did.  I hope it touches your soul.  I call it, The Passage.

I am walking.  I had been running, but what’s the use?  When you’re going no where, you will eventually get there regardless of how fast your legs are moving.  So today, I walk.

My feet are bare; dry and cracked.  Bleeding. The pain is trumped by the feeling in my throat.  I want to swallow, desperate for something to cover the nakedness of my throat. But there is nothing to swallow.  I can produce nothing to put out the fire of my overwhelming thirst. With a frail, raucous voice I call out to You, but again…nothing.  Even the sound of Your name seems bland and lifeless.  And in Your absence, my throat succumbs to the same wasteland in which I am walking….. Desolate.  Lifeless.

On this journey, words resonate through my mind.  Words…the only connection I feel like I have left; for no one can rob me of my thoughts.  Today, the word that pushes itself in front of all the others taking center stage is:  thirst.  I have never wanted anything more than this in my life.  Never knew I needed anything  this badly.  Never viewed it as vital as my own heartbeat.  Water.  The need to be quenched and full.

I keep walking.  Ahead I see it, and it’s beautiful.  Is it a farce?  A mirage in this lonely desert? Family and friends run through the hot sand to greet me, almost knocking me down.  I feel their hugs; give back every smile with one of my own. I crave their intimacy, the verbal and non-verbal communication, and the relational bond that can only come from those whom you allow in. I drink it down, so quickly I can feel my stomach expand increasingly with every gulp.  I’m still thirsty.

Beyond them, I see every possession my heart has ever desired.  Some are shiny and new, others belong to someone else…They beckon, and I run to them, leaving my relationships behind, eager to play with my new toys.  Still the sun beats down, my thirst screaming through my mind louder than ever.  So I drink.  I drink it all, sitting the cistern down to be refilled because I am not satisfied.  I am never satisfied.

Suddenly I see a countless number of emotions and feelings dropping from the sky; slowing down and hovering around me.  So inviting.  So seemingly fulfilling.  I reach out to touch the first one:  passion.  I feel its warmth sear through my fingertips and make its way up my arm; spilling throughout my whole body, creating a desire for more.  Just as I grasp at one, I long for another one and snatch it up with my free hand; fearful they will go away.  But wait…one is missing.  The one I long for the most hasn’t fallen.  I glance up, my eyes burning by the relentless rays of the sun but I don’t care.  I’ve got to have it.  Then I see it, here it comes, and it’s coming to me! Love. It falls and lands on the top of my head.  I can feel its affection and tenderness running down the back of my neck, covering my ears, and finally reaching my mouth.  Again, I drink.  I drink deeply.  I’m gulping as soon as it hits my tongue, tilting my head back, allowing it to run out of the corners of my mouth, and soaking my shirt.  I feel it pulsing throughout my whole body like the blood flowing from my tattered heart.  In that moment, I am filled with love.  But still I thirst….

Again, I start walking.

What seemed like hours passed, thought they were only moments.  Moments where time seems to check out for a bit. Stop.  Cease.  In that moment, I could feel my body emptying.  The memories of the relationships seeped out of my body like sweat coming from my pores.  I felt the sweat.  Running down my face, coating my body.  Dripping its salty moisture onto the possessions I longed for, causing them to rust and decay along with my selfishness.  The emotions I had felt earlier were now traded by thoughts of lust, rage, pride, and abandonment.  My poor, pitiful self had returned, determined to satisfy the thirst that so relentlessly had shown back up.

Suddenly a new emotion arrived:  hate.  A hate that resonated from a heart that had had enough. Enough mediocrity.  Enough pain and strife.  Enough of fighting a battle I could never win.  Enough loss…I hated that I couldn’t fill this thirst inside of me, and I was ready to stop fighting.  I could no longer do it.  I wasn’t good enough.  I needed help…

And there it was.

At first, I though it just another frail attempt at self preservation brought on by my imaginative mind and strong will.  But no, this was different.  In the distance it stood, as bold and brawny as a thousand trees.  It seemed to draw me in; like a magnet to the object of its affection.  I couldn’t walk anymore.  I had to run.  Run hard.  The peace came the moment I entered its shadow.  I wanted to hide there, stay hidden from the scorching sun in the healing shadow of that beautiful cross.  Truth washed over me and I immediately understood.  This thirst, this longing to be filled can only be pleased by what took place on it.  Death.  I had to die.  Die to myself and all that it entailed.

Many things died on that cross as Jesus hung there for me.  For you.  Brutality died so mercy could be born.  The law died so grace could be born.  Rage died so love could be born.  From everything that died on that cross, something else; something Godly, was born.  On that cross, death equals life.

I stood there alone with my thoughts.  I dropped to my knees in reverence for the One who hung there.  As the sun shifted through the hours, I too shifted.  I wanted nothing to take me out of that shadow.  Never again would I walk without the assurance of the cross before me.  Never again.

And then I realized….I wasn’t thirsty.  I was utterly alone, void of anything or anybody and I was as full as I had ever been in my entire life.  Jesus.  His death.  My death.  His life filling mine.  This is it….this is all….this is everything.  And it’s more than enough.

The things I now longed for were the things He longed for.  The relationships I would have were with those whom He wanted me to walk with.  The things I possessed were things He provided.  The feelings and security I had, came directly from a heart of purity and genuine motive.  All because of His glory and the furtherance of His Kingdom.  I thirst, He fills, I tell, and His name is made famous.

This is life…….Are you thirsty?

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.  Matthew 6:33

Do you live for this day, or do you live for that day?

It’s not often that I can sit through a church service or see something spiritual and honestly say it impacted me to a point of life changing.  Partially because we’ve watered  the phrase life changing experience down to something almost worldly; and it usually takes something pretty relevant for me to want to alter my life and bring something ‘new’ into it.  I’m not big into change…..

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to take a look at a DVD about stewardship…..not what we would typically think of when the word stewardship is mentioned, but rather God’s view of what we did with what we had while here on earth.  It was a skit that told the story of one man’s encounter with the Bema, or more traditionally known as the Judgment Seat of Christ.

Paul writes:  ⁶Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. ⁷We live by faith, not by sight. ⁸We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. ⁹So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. ¹⁰For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.   1 Corinthians 5:6-10 What is Paul saying in this passage?  He is basically telling the Corinth Christians that it would be much better to be in heaven with Jesus, but since they aren’t, that still doesn’t excuse the common goal of pleasing Him.  The motive for a Christian is to bring a smile to Jesus’ face (v.9), regardless of where we are…..

Now, hear me out, this isn’t a judgment where our sins get judged…Jesus already took care of that and they won’t even come into play.  This is the time where each Christian will give account for the things he or she did with what God gave them while they were still on earth.  This is where we get our crowns.  Our reward.  Where the bride of Christ will finally come face to face with the one who paid it all…Jesus.  This should be a time of great celebration….

This day = today        That day = Judgment day

On the sermon on the mount, Jesus said to store up treasures in heaven where moths and rust won’t destroy and thieves won’t steal.  We are going to be judged on what we placed in the heavenly realm, not what we gathered here.  That is the first thing we will be judged on.  Next, we will be judged on what we did with what we were given.  Did we take the skills, talents, resources, gifts, etc. and use them for Kingdom purposes? We will be evaluated on what we had, and what we did with it.  Lastly, we will be evaluated on our motives.  Scripture tells us that man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at our heart.  God wants to know why we did what we did.

To recap:  1. Treasures 2.Talents 3. Motives.

This realization has literally broken my heart as I think about all the time I have squandered on things of this world.  I have so much more to give.  I have so much more love to share.  I have so much more to do with my time.  And I long to do it for the glory of my Jesus.

One thing God really convicted me of today is the need to invest in people.  I want to love better and deeper.  I want to take the gifts God has blessed me with and use them to further the gospel with His people.  I want to teach the untaught.  I want to encourage the downtrodden.  I want to do this when no one is watching except for my God.  I want to love as Jesus loved and I want to be all about making a difference for that day.  Yes, I want to get those crowns…so I can give them right back to Him.

Create in me a clean heart, oh God.  And renew an steadfast spirit in me…Psalm 51:10

I found God on the corner of 1st and Amistad
Where the West was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I said, “Where’ve you been?” He said, “Ask anything.”

Where were you, when everything was falling apart.
All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang
And all I needed was a call that never came
To the corner of 1st and Amistad

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me.

But in the end everyone ends up alone
Losing her, the only one who’s ever known
Who I am, who I’m not and who I wanna to be
No way to know how long she will be next to me

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me
Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late, you found me, you found me. -The Fray

The word Amistad means friend.  I see this song as a conversation I recently had with God, asking where He has been and what took Him so long.  Actually, He was there all along through the counsel and prayers of friends.  This post is written for one friend in particular.

Tanks.

This entry was written the morning after my mom died.  This was the day after I had arrived in Paducah, and just a few hours before I was to be at the funeral home for the visitation.  I really didn’t feel like publishing it on the day I wrote it.  I can’t really explain why, I just didn’t want to.  Today, almost 8 weeks later, it’s still fresh and just as hard…but God is still good.  Today, I would have called mom and we would have gushed over the fact that LOST begins a new season tonight, and we would have made predictions about what would happen.  Afterwards we would have talked again and made predictions for next week.  I guess they won’t be showing LOST in heaven, so tonight, I’m on my own.  I can’t believe how much I miss her.

I just read my mom’s obituary.  I know my aunt wrote it because she still spells my name wrong.  She always adds an “e” at the end.  When I saw it, I smiled.

I wanted to write each day that I am here for several reasons.  One being the process of figuring this all out (whatever that means), and another, for the therapy of writing.  I have always read about or heard about people who write a book when they are healing from something traumatic.  I understand why.

Last night when I got here, I wanted to write, but I was so emotionally and mentally exhausted, there was no way that I could muster any co-herant thoughts that made any sense.  So, I opted for today.  I also wanted to make several blog entries for you, the reader, so that you wouldn’t be burdened with a long blog.

This morning, my dad and I had errands to run.  Hanging out with him and doing random things is usually one of the highlights of my visits.  Unfortunately, I can’t say that this morning was a good time.  Our first stop was the funeral home so that he could drop an un-godly amount of money.  Next, the florist.  Finally, we went to the graveyard; I actually saw the guys digging her grave as I looked over the property.  Surreal.

While at the funeral home, the lady told us that my mom was “ready”, would we like to see her before the viewing this afternoon.  My dad said that he wasn’t ready yet.  He needed my aunts to be there.  I actually jumped at the chance to have some time alone with mom (I’m a true quality timer).  So, as the lady took my hand and led me into Chapel B, she turned and said to me, “You look just like your mother”.  I replied that everyone says that, and that I hoped that people seeing me didn’t intensify the sadness.  By now, we were at the casket.  I asked the lady to give me a second.

This is what I wish would have happened:  I wish I would have looked at her and it would be like looking at a stranger.  I wish it didn’t look a thing like her so I could just pretend that this wasn’t really happening.  That didn’t happen.  She was beautiful…stunning actually.  You know why?  Because she is only 58 years old.  No wrinkles, no age spots on her face.  None of that…just a beautiful lady.  Inside and out.  So, there she lay, and there lay my confirmation.  My mom is gone.  And finally free and alive with Jesus Christ, and I couldn’t be happier for her.

I talked to her for a few minutes.  I felt the presence of God in that room and He assured me that He would take good care of her until I got there…I’m sure she is busy catching up with my grandmothers and telling Jesus that it was hard releasing her only daughter into his care when He called me into missionary service.  And by now, everyone loves her….because everyone sure did while she was here.

This is gonna sound weird, but as I said earlier, I am so happy for her.  She made it through this life and she made her peace with God.  For literally years, I have been praying for true healing for her body.  She has had health problems all her life…and God has finally answered those prayers…not as I would have liked, but He is giving me grace to accept it.  She is with Him, and she is finally feeling no pain and no stress.  No anxiety and no worry.  Yes, I’m extremely happy for her.

Well, I need to end for now.  Tonight, I hope to be the strong woman that my mom raised me to be.  I hope to fall into the arms of Jesus and allow those closest to me to hold me tight when it gets to be too much. And I hope to keep this heart of rejoicing as I think about how happy mom is….but I sure do miss her.

This morning I awoke with the desire to worship in my heart.  I wasn’t sure it would be there, as it was absent from me last week.  I realized something very profound as I stood with my church family, singing to Jesus.  This morning, I was worshiping with my mom.  She was singing praises to Him in heaven, and I was singing praises to Him here on earth.  It was a precious thought.  Then I realized that she was actually getting to bow down before Him and worship…literally.  For me, all I can do that even comes remotely close to that is bow down in my heart and try to clear my mind as I sing…but that doesn’t even come close to what she is getting to do.  For a minute, I was jealous.  But the Holy Spirit quietly spoke to me and said “soon”.

I will be flying back home to be with my family for Christmas on Saturday, the 20th.  Honestly, I haven’t been looking forward to it due to the sadness it will entail.  I know the sadness is part of all this, and it is healthy to be with my family, but being in the house without her there is very painful…but not nearly as painful as seeing the lack of hope in my fathers eyes.  I am so broken for him.  Right now, that seems to be the hardest part of this process; knowing that if God chose to take my dad today, I really would never see him again.  But, my hope endures that one day very soon, he will finally say yes to Jesus.  What a sweet day that will be.

This past week, I had a lot of time on my hands to think and ponder.  I came up with this:  Christmas does not have to be as bad as I first thought it would be.  Oh, it will definitely be a sad day, but here’s the deal…it still calls for a celebration.  We still have a birthday to celebrate, and that didn’t change because of mom’s death.  If I really pause to reflect on it, this Christmas may be the best one yet because for the first time, I actually have someone from my immediate family in the presence of God, handing over her crown filled with jewels to the Birthday Boy.  My eyes are welling up with tears just thinking about how happy she is right now, and how happy I am for her.  She is celebrating with my King.  Way to go, mom!

So, in closing…I will be trying with all I can muster to maintain a good attitude this Christmas season.  I know that keeping a good attitude means a lot of crying, hugs, talking, processing, and sadness; but it also means Hope.

Happy Birthday Jesus, give mom a hug for me, and tell her that I miss her with all that I am.

Peace and hope.

By now, if you know me, you know of my mother’s passing last Monday.  I have been writing all week and getting my feelings out through my fingers, but this is the first post I have decided to make public.

Community

First of all, I am literally floored by the love and support from friends and family that I have received.  I knew I had been blessed with many who love me, but the way God orchestrated conversations at just the right time was such a beautiful thing. Monday morning when I found out the news, within 10 minutes, I had friends here with me and text messages and phone calls came all day right up until I got on the plane.  After reaching Paducah, God still put people in place to hold me when I needed to be held, make me laugh when I needed to laugh, and lend me an ear when I needed to talk.  He is such a good God.

Strength

When I realized that God wanted me to come back to Houston and leave my family, I have to admit, I was angry.  It didn’t seem to make sense.  My dad is still not a believer, and he is hurting so badly.  Why would God take the closest thing (his only daughter) from him?  Today, I think I got the answer to that question.  God loves my dad more than I can even imagine; much more than I do.  He is closer to my dad right now, than He has ever been in his life.  My dad is undistracted, broken, hurting, and probably more ready to listen to truth than ever before.  I would never dream of robbing him of hearing from God, and my being there could possibly distract him.  Another thng I realized is the ministry that I have here didn’t end with my mom’s death.  I still have people here that need to see Jesus.  God didn’t disolve that responsibility. I have a career that allows me to make a difference in the lives of children, and college students that challenge me and allow me to “do life” with them.  I also have people that I consider family here in Texas, and they matter dearly to me.  I wouldn’t trade these things for the world.  These things, and the prayers of the saints make me strong.

Peace

On Tuesday night at the funeral home, I had to shake a lot of hands, meet several people I didn’t know, and receive a lot of hugs.  My mom knew a lot of people and the amount of people that came to pay their respects was such a blessing.  She really was a well liked, classy lady.  At one point in the night my aunt hugged me and told me how proud of me she was.  She said “you look so happy”.  At that I responded, “happy”?  I think she realized how that sounded because she immediately started explaining that she knew I was hurting but that it seemed like I was handling it so well….thus began the ministry opportunities.

Ministry

Its not that I am handling this well.  I don’t think there is a right or wrong way to grieve and mourn.  But what I am doing is what God said to do when you lose a loved one who is a believer…I am rejoicing for her. I am so happy for her right now.  She is expreiencing true worship.  She ate a real feast on Thursday.  She is finally healed and is feeling no pain.  She is reunited with my grandparents, and her sister. But the biggest thing that I am celebrating with her right now is that she is there waiting for me and I will see her very soon.  I got this vapor of a life with her, and now I look forward to having eternity with her. How can I not be happy about that?  If God and I had a conversation, there is no way I would ask for her back…that would be very selfish on my part….and very arrogant to even think that she would want to come back after experiencing all that she had experienced.  No, I wouldn’t ask that of God.  But I might ask for Him to give me just 15 minutes so that I could say goodbye and tell her I loved her one last time.

Opportunities

Over the last week, I have had many opportunities to share Jesus with my family and friends.  My prayer has been that they see Him through me, and want to have Him in their lives.  I pray that the legacy my mom left through me will lead many to Christ.  God used her life to lead me to the cross, and now I pray He uses her death to do the same.  If you have read this far, please lift up my dad because he doesn’t know the Christ or the peace that I do.  Pray that his heart is ready to receive the free gift God has for him and that the three of us can be united again in heaven.

Closure

Its really amazing that through something as shocking and tragic as this, God can still provide us with just enough grace.  I hope I haven’t given the impression through this post that I haven’t been sad…because I most certainly have/am.  I loved my mom so, so much.  I learned so much from her.  And as I said earlier, she was a big influence in my decision to follow Christ.  She always supported my decisions and I know that she was so very proud of me because she told me all the time.  She believed in me.  No, I definitely have times when the pain is so excruciating, I don’t know how I will make it.  Sometimes when I feel like I have no more tears to cry, here will come another batch….but still, I wouldn’t want to take from her the treasure she now has in Jesus…I am so proud of her.

Thanks for everything mom.  I love you and I will see you soon…..

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, `Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.’ Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.

AW Tozer, The Pursuit of God

Lately, I have been debating as to blog about the up-coming election. A friend of mine sent this article to me today.  I chose to let this let this speak for me:

America asks for a king

by Laura Hollis

I am an attorney and professor of law and entrepreneurship, so I usually confine my commentary to matters of public policy, and leave theology to those who have chosen that field of study. But since today is Sunday, I will take the liberty of making an observation with a more Biblical bent.

As one who has taught entrepreneurship and entrepreneurial thinking for nearly ten years, I am distressed by the apparently overwhelming sentiment sweeping Americans that they must now be taken care of. I know from years of studying the matter that a society in which most members are – or can be – entrepreneurial, is a society where upward mobility is the rule; where wealth is created – not just “spread around”; where hope is common currency; where the inevitable problems are viewed as opportunities to find sustainable solutions, and where those solutions are typically new industries, new companies, and new jobs. An entrepreneurial society is a society where most people wish to, and know they can, take care of themselves, their families, and even others in need. Where charity and philanthropy are fellow-travelers with success.

Joe the Plumber’s exposure of Obama’s “spread the wealth” philosophy exploded like a flash fire, not only because that philosophy is utterly anti-American, but because it is shortsighted, and immoral. It is short-sighted, because in an economy that is a bit battered and fragile, what we need are more businesses, more workers, and more wealth creation in the private sector, not more government programs and more people dependent upon them. It is short-sighted because it is a failed business model. And, as we saw with the collapse of major lending institutions a few weeks ago, a failed business model, made larger (or “spread around,” if you prefer) by government, is not just a failure, but a catastrophic failure. So it was with the irresponsible lending practices foisted on American banks by the government, and so it will be with the irresponsible spending and doomed reliance on government largesse that Obama and the Democrats are peddling as salvation.

And the inevitability of its failure is why Obama’s philosophies are not just foolhardy, but immoral. It is immoral to deceive well-meaning people about what you intend to do with their money. It is immoral to take by force from those who produce, give to others who do not, and call it “charity.” It is staggeringly immoral to create an ever-larger class of dependent, helpless people who will be doomed to starve when the unsustainable system you have created collapses. And most of all, it is profoundly immoral to set yourself up as a secular messiah of sorts, assuring people that you will take care of them, eliminate hardship, heal the planet, and hold enemies at bay by the sheer force of your own hypnotic rhetoric.

Obama’s economic and social theories have been debunked and disproven (at great human cost) so many times over the past 100 years that it’s laughable anyone still believes in them. But at least his designs on the country are understandable. Those who crave power will use any tactic, as long as it works.

It’s the fact that it’s working that is inscrutable to me. And this is where the Biblical references come in. Americans’ attitude toward this posturing, self-important, political zealot remind me of the Israelites’ demand for a king, as recounted in the Book of Samuel:

When Samuel grew old, he appointed his sons as judges for Israel. The name of his firstborn was Joel and the name of his second was Abijah, and they served at Beersheba. But his sons did not walk in his ways. They turned aside after dishonest gain and accepted bribes and perverted justice. So all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. They said to him, “You are old, and your sons do not walk in your ways; now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.” But when they said, “Give us a king to lead us,” this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the LORD. And the LORD told him: “Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected Me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking Me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will do.” Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will do: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots . He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your menservants and maidservants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, and the LORD will not answer you in that day.”

But the people refused to listen to Samuel. “No!” they said. “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.” When Samuel heard all that the people said, he repeated it before the LORD. The LORD answered, “Listen to them and give them a king.” (1 Samuel 8:1-22)

The comparisons are telling: Americans are understandably fed up with corruption, greed, and perversion of justice in our leaders. But till now, we have asked for no king, because we could take care of ourselves, and because we have always been a godly people. But look around now – our children languish in failing, crumbling, unsafe, and undisciplined schools, many of which are merely bastions of social experimentation. Our cities are riddled with crime. Our families are devastated by divorce, abuse, illegitimacy, absent fathers, and definitions of “marriage” that fluctuate with the sexual predilections du jour. Our culture – books, films, music – is saturated with violence and perversion that even the smallest child is exposed to. And of course, one cannot forget – the high watermark of freedom and femininity, and the litmus test of liberty for the Left is the unfettered right to kill our own children in our wombs (or leave them to die outside of them).

This is what we, as a nation, have brought ourselves to. These are problems that no amount of social spending will cure, and any promise to do so is a lie, because no amount of money will change people’s hearts. And yet, instead of reaching deep within ourselves to find the solutions, we now whine and mewl for someone to save us.

And here he comes, Barack Obama, on a “righteous wind.”

As with anyone who would be king, Obama will take our money and our property in ever-larger amounts. Our children will be saddled with debt and beholden to a bloated government that will enslave the very people it promised to help. We will be at the mercy of our enemies. And no matter how bleak or desperate our own lives becomes, the leaders in Obama’s government will always thrive; such people always do. Nor is any of this is unique to Obama; it is in the nature of every king, and every government, which is why our government was originally set up to be limited, both to protect us, and to ensure our own self-reliance.

John McCain will not be a perfect President. But it is not necessary for the leader of a free, righteous, and entrepreneurial people to be perfect. I can support John McCain because he asks only that I vote for him, not that I worship him. And I will vote for John McCain on November 4th, not because he would be a better king, but because he does not claim to be one at all.

Neither McCain nor Obama is a king who will save us; we must turn instead to the only One who can.

Sometimes, coming up with these blog titles are just too easy.

I was reading a magazine today and the article was about electronic readers.  Namely, the Sony Reader and the Amazon Kindle. These devices have brought ideas into our heads such as, ‘maybe someday there will be no need for library’s or bookstores’.  Its no secret that technology has replaced so many things…home stereos have been replaced by MP3 players, encyclopedias and dictionaries have been replaced by the Internet, and satellite radios have replaced our favorite hometown stations…that being said, do books even have a chance?

The article really only praises these devices by calling them just another avenue to read books with, but in my opinion, its only a matter of time until we stop turning pages and staring at covers; wondering whats underneath.  Amazon is even experimenting with colleges….which is good news when you consider the cost of textbooks, but I can’t imagine not carrying a backpack full of books to class…weird.

I love to read, and I love books.  I love the way bookstores smell, and libraries as well.  There is just something about curling up with a good cup of coffee and a good book that just won’t compare to any electronic device.  I hope this step in technology takes a very long time to take….

By the way, I just completed a great book called The Hunger Games.  I highly recommend it.

Peace.

This blog is about a year old, but I thought it was time to bring it back to life, so to speak.  Its long, but hopefully informative.

My Thoughts on Halloween

Its that time of year, and yet again, I am burdened with sharing the knowledge that I have collected over the past 10 or so years about the upcoming holiday, Halloween. In writing this blog, it is my hope that this will serve as a forum for information, rather than an opportunity for you to get my opinion of the holiday….in reality, who really cares what I think….more so I pray you are challenged with asking yourself, “What does Jesus think about the holiday”?

I can remember a particular Halloween when I was around 5 years old. After an exhausting night of gathering candy from every house in the neighborhood, my mom made me spread it all out on the table and she and my dad examined each piece. The pieces without the proper packaging went straight to the trash can, no questions asked. I’m sure the same thing went down at your house when you were a kid, but should it have to? Shouldn’t that in itself be a clue to the fact that something might not be “good” about this holiday? Let me give you some facts about the origins of the holiday we have watered down and made to seem acceptable in our culture….

The Druids – Halloween has its roots in the ancient Irish festival that took place on October 31. It is called the Festival of Death, named for the god of death, SO-WEN, a time when people believed that the spirits of the dead roamed the earth and on this day the old year dies away and the new year begins. November 1 was called the day of the dead, and all this activity was leading up to it. The time period was approximately 300 years before the birth of Jesus. Most people were pagan and believed in many gods, but the most feared society were called the Druids and they ruled by terror and sorcery. Even the kings feared the Druids, and when the king got too old to lead in battle or father children, they would sacrifice him to their gods. On this night the towns people would hurry up with their chores, getting everything done before nightfall, hoping to get in and lock their door before the Druids came out. When night fell, the Druids would come out into the village….the following are real accounts of the activities of the Druids. See if you can see any similarities of the activities we do today….

Jack -o-lantern – This is an Irish tale that says a guy named Jack was having a conversation with the devil. He asked the devil to climb the top of an apple tree. The devil did it and then Jack put crosses all around the bottom of the tree, preventing the devil from coming down. Since the devil couldn’t come down, he put a curse on Jack, saying that he was cursed to stay in the world forever, having neither access to heaven or hell. When Jack died, he was condemned to walk the earth forever. While here, he carved out a turnip and dropped in a lump of coal so he could find his way around in the dark. Thus naming the lantern, Jack-o-Lantern. Today, we carry out that tradition by using pumpkins because they are larger and more festive than turnips.

Why the scary faces on the JOL? As the Druids came into villages, they would have turnips with faces on them. They carved the faces of the spirits that dwelled inside of them on the sides of the turnips. This spirit was the Druids spirit guide, the one that guides, empowers, and directs the Druid all year long…his own little spirit god. Thus, the scary faces on the pumpkins.

Trick or Treating – As the Druids came into the villages, they would stop at certain homes and bang on the door. They would demand certain types of foods and sweets. If the people would comply, they would go about their business. If they didn’t give them anything, they were cursed with trouble, sickness and sometimes even death.

Costumes – They would put animal skins on themselves and dance around fires in order to scare off spirits. The believed that the god of death would gather together all the souls of people who had died the previous year, and the souls would attack those who had been bad…the only way to escape was to put on disguises so the spirits wouldn’t notice them.

Bobbing for apples – People would kneel around a tub of water filled with apples and the first one to get one without using their hands would have good luck and fortune all year. Then they would try to peel the apple with their teeth and if they succeeded and it remained all in one piece, they then threw it over their left shoulder. They believed if they whirled around quick enough, they would catch a glimpse of their spouse for the coming year.

Black cats – The Druids believed that the spirits of ancestors were manifested in black cats.

Bonfires – When nightfall came, the Druids build large fires that could be seen from far distances. Many villagers saw these fires and took it as a sign that it was time to get into their homes. At midnight the madness increased and they performed human sacrifices, tearing bodies open and throwing the remains into the fire. All this is done in hopes to make the god of death smile. The villagers called these fires “bone fires” and today we have shortened it to bonfires.

Most of the research you have just read has been compiled from books and articles I have collected beginning in 1996. The fact that we spend over 14 million dollars per year on a holiday known for evil and basically everything God is against totally intrigued me, and thus the research began. There are many more facts, but my hand is getting tired….if you’re interested, I can recommend some books and other materials. Again, please realize, not celebrating this pagan holiday is a personal decision I made many years ago….but I do think God wants more of His children to take a stand. Are you one of them?

Peace.