I found the following piece helpful in how one goes about to find a career path. "If our will and sympathy and our capacity exists regarding a certain vocation, it will take a very slight stimulus to guide us into the proper channel. But unless the career is in harmony with our natural aptitude, it will prove neither prosperous nor tranquil. Dryden tells us that -- "What the child admired, The youth endeavored, and the man acquired."

Milton's thoughts are along the same theme;

"The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day." And therefore it is of vital importance that in childhood we should be surrounded by everything that can assist in elevating, purifying, strengthening --- everything that will cherish our good impulses and master our inclinations to evil --- everything that will cultivate all that is true and honest, simple and generous in our nature." W.H. Davenport Adams.

 

The following poem talks about our desires to be more, and how we almost achieve it, but then in the busyness of life we fail. 

 "Have we not all, amid life's petty strife,

a pure ideal of a noble life

that once seemed possible? 

Did we not hear the flutter of its wings

and feel it near, 

and just within our reach? 

It was.  And yet

we lost it in this daily jar and fret." 

Adelaide A. Procter

The girl on the left is Rosina. She is a 14-year-old sex worker in Bangladesh.

When Jesus began His ministry he read from Isaiah to explain why He came, what He will do, and what the kingdom of God is --

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor;

he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted,

to preach deliverance to the captives,

and recovering of sight to the blind,

to set at liberty them that are bruised,

To preach the acceptable year of the Lord."

His mission, and ours, is demanding, and it requires sacrifice, compassion and deep commitment to love our neighbor, even as we love ourselves.

The Pharisees would rather debate the scriptures, teach the scriptures and study the scriptures; but Jesus wanted them, and us, to live the scriptures. To walk as He walked, to love as He loved and to be known by that.

The Pharisees wanted a religion that kept them from the world; Jesus wanted His disciples to be in the world, working with the lost, the least, and the last.

"This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you." John 15:12

Editorial Photo: GMB Akash

 Trigger warning - suicide

Suicide - some answers..

 I'm no expert on suicide but in my extended family there have been 3 suicides, so I've pondered it a lot. 

There are dark seasons we all go through at one point or another, and needless to say, if one takes their life it is the darkest season they've ever faced. 

Some struggle with depression for years for various reasons, and child abuse, in all its hideous forms, are top of the list. 

But even someone whose life has been great, but suddenly a single tragedy strikes, like the loss of a sibling, a child, or even a loved friend, can cause such shock, and feelings so intense, and they've never felt anything like this before, it can seem overwhelming. 

Of course some medications have suicide risks, and then there are horrid mistakes we've made in the heat of the moment and when a cooler head returns, we feel we can't live with or forgive ourselves for. 

I'm sure there are other causes as well, but I'm convinced of this, a person's life and value is not to be judged by their lowest point, and I believe God does not judge us at our worst, nor should we. 

 The hardest part for those left behind is the haunting questions, "Why" and "What could I have done." And of course they are never answered.... 

Lastly I'll share this piece, I think it is so well said ----- 

"The so-called 'psychotically depressed' person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so because death seems suddenly appealing. 

The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. 

Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e., the fear of falling remains a constant. 

The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors.

It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. 

And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. 

You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."

 

"And Jesus will not judge by what His eyes see, Nor make a decision by what His ears hear" Is.11:3 

 When I read this it jumped off the page! I realized how many shallow judgments I make based on appearance or rhetoric I've heard. Jesus always saw through the outside appearance into the heart. 

He was like Job who, "investigated the case which he did not know."29:16 

 I am often like the Pharisee who said, "“If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”  

Truly, the 'deep things of God' are to understand each person has a story, and when we know it, we can better judge how to help them.

The passage in Isaiah is a prophetic passage about Jesus.

 This story was shared with me by Ann Stewart Porter, one of God's mentors for me; with her permission. 

"I’m in Downtown Denver, Colorado.

A place I rarely visit for any reason.

It is 4:00 in the morning. A.M.

It’s summer, but not hot.

I’ve had to get up by 2:30 a.m. to get

here before daylight, since I’m a good ways from Denver, but there’s little traffic this time of morning. I’m grateful.

I’m not a morning person.

We park at an old rundown apartment complex, in a place that reminds me why I hate the city.

But I’m here for my Nursing training.

Shirley jumped out in her white uniform and coat, and we walk cautiously through the naked bulbs on the top of the crusty outside.

I am sure we will be robbed, raped

or murdered, but we are not.

It’s cold. It’s dark. It’s scary.

“I’ve got the key, so we’ll just knock and go on in.” She remarks and I can tell she’s done this a dozen times.

“Althea?” She speaks loud enough, but not thundering.

“It’s me. And I’ve got a friend this morning.”

We enter a dull pink plastered bedroom, with a hospital bed and a swing to the side. It’s a Hoyle lift.

They exchange morning conversation. Althea has slept okay. But what if she had not?

Althea is a little bigger than our Rachel, but has her mind intact.

It’s her body that has betrayed her, and I determine I will not cry.

We do everything from get her out of bed, to the bathroom, shower her, get her dressed, feed her the breakfast I cooked, and leave an hour later, having sit her in her black wheelchair. She’s waiting on a bus to take her to her job at a local college.

She has no one else.

If Shirley did not come each morning, Althea would eventually

die in that old plastered pink room.

Alone. The world never knowing.

And I try not to cry as I think of it.

Shirley whisks me off in the sunrise to an elderly man, in a fancier ornate cherry wood bed, in a house he’s lived in for years, even after his wife died. It’s after 6 in the morning and his bowels aren’t working. Shirley does unspeakable things, that most of us would never do in dark or daylight. Her hand is covered in feces as she hands a bag and directions to me. I nearly vomit.

I don’t do mornings well.

And while I have had to do the same things with my own daughter, I always cried and Dan would finish it.

But it has to be done.

By 7 in the morning breakthrough, we are bathing and feeding a young, funny AIDS patient. He doesn’t have long, so he sleeps on his couch.

There is no friend.

Only Shirley and me.

We laugh with him and listen to his jokes and he insists a scrambled egg would be the best.

My heart hurts for him. I smile.

You could not help but love him.

But I do not cry.

Finally, Shirley looks at the next person on her list, and gives me directions. He is a cranky old hoarder she says, so watch my step.

We have a few minutes so I ask how she does this…every….day?

I tell her I don’t know if I can, though I’ve been “doing” for my own child over 15 years.

It’s still different to me.

She says at first it’s hard. It’s ugly.

It’s scary. It’s disgusting. And then she

falls in love with the people, and now

she just loves what she does.

For $8 an hour.

And then….I cry.

I tell her she’s my hero.

I ask God to bless her in every way He can think of to bless her.

She says she’s nothing but ordinary.

God and I know different.

Now you do too.

Find a person to serve this season.

Find somebody you wouldn’t ordinarily see, or serve. Let your compassion make a difference.

Love is an incredibly heroic

thing to do".

~AnnStewartPorter

 I read about a different way to teach children to read, by Anna Letitia Barbauld in a biography about her. She was a teacher, and she wrote poetry and children’s poetry, among many other things including mentoring women in the Lord. I sent this to one of my granddaughters with young children.

I’ll try and explain this simple, creative method.

She wrote her very young children her own reading lessons for them.

She would write lessons that Charles, her son, would like because they would be about him and her, and about people and animals and household things and garden creatures he met with every day.

She would write each “lesson” on a single page. Bold letters with wide margins.

One lesson would be about Charles through his day: waking up, eating breakfast, playing with Papa and Mamma, exploring the garden, taking dinner and tea, and, at the end of the lesson, going to bed.

These lessons in Charles’ life are occasions for introducing vocabulary and ideas related to them.

Interspersed are lessons about animals and their behavior, the parts of the body, social etiquette, counting and money. They too are presented as moments in life of mother and son.

For example, Counting is introduced by Mamma summoning Charles to give her “Three kisses. One, two three.”

When I read this, it set my imagination on fire, and I began considering what fun it would be and how it would hold the interest of a child, if the story is about them and the life they know.

I could imagine a story for little Annie that was about her birthday party when she was obsessed with purple dragons! So the story would be about the purple dragon party, the colors of the cupcakes and body parts of dragons, favorite presents etc.

Teaching to count as the children progress could be done by counting guests and how many pieces a cake should be cut into so everyone gets a piece. How many balloons? How many days until the party etc. The days of the week can be attached to events they are looking forward to.

One lesson could be about visiting Grandma and Grandpa’s house” it would, of course, include Luna the dog they all love, as well as the chickens, rabbits and stories that have been read to them.

The warmth of the fireplace, the deep snow and the tools needed to clear it. Oh, the list is endless!

I even envisioned the older siblings helping to write the story, adding themes and ideas. Drawings or photos could be included.

Here is one of her lessons for her son when he was three –

“Anna went into Mrs. Robleys Garden

yesterday and gathered primroses

And saw gold fishes in the pond

And there was a pretty little dog in the parlor and

Anna was a little afraid of him at first, but when she

saw he was very quiet and good natured she came

and pet his ears.”

 I read this online today, it shows you never know what a simple act of kindness will do. 

 "Today I went to Dunkin' Donuts and saw a clearly homeless guy sitting on the side of the road and picking up change. Eventually I saw him stroll into Dunkin, as he was counting his change to buy something I began to get super annoying and talked to him over and over again even when he didn't really want to talk. Since he had maybe $1 in change I bought him a coffee and bagel and asked him to sit down with me. He told me a lot about how people are usually very mean to him because he's homeless, how drugs turned him into the person he hated, he lost his mom to cancer, he never knew his dad and he just wants to be someone his mom would be proud of (along with another hours worth of conversation.)

This lovely mans name was Chris and Chris was one of the most honest & sincere people I've ever met. After realizing I really need to get back to class Chris asked me to wait so he can write something down for me. Handing me a crumpled up receipt he apologized for having shaky hand writing, smiled, and left. I opened his note and this was it. 'I wanted to kill myself today, because of u I now do not. Thank u, beautiful person.' "

 The Vikings are raiding, the people are degenerates, the clergy are corrupted and the leaders of the kingdom are brigands…so cries the Bishop known as: The Wolf

🔥🔥🔥 Bishop Wulfstan: Sermon of the Wolf to the English written c1009🔥🔥🔥

“Beloved men, know that which is true: this world is in haste and it nears the end.”

The State of the Nation:

And in short, the laws of God are hated and his teaching despised; therefore we all are fre­quent­ly disgraced through God’s anger, let him know it who is able. And that loss will be­come universal, although one may not think so, to all these people, unless God protects us. Therefore it is clear and well seen in all of us that we have previously more often trans­gressed than we have amended, and therefore much is greatly assailing this nation.

No­thing has prospered now for a long time either at home or abroad, but there has been military devastation and hunger, burning and blood­shed in nearly every district time and again. And stealing and slaying, plague and pesti­lence, murrain and disease, malice and hate, and the robbery by robbers have injured us very terribly.

And excessive taxes have afflicted us, and storms have very often caused failure of crops; therefore in this land there have been, as it may appear, many years now of injustices and unstable loyalties everywhere among men. Now very often a kinsman does not spare his kinsman any more than the foreigner, nor the father his children, nor sometimes the child his own father, nor one brother the other.

Neither has any of us ordered his life just as he should, neither the ecclesiastic according to the rule nor the lay­man according to the law, but we have trans­formed desire into laws for us entirely too often, and have kept neither precepts nor laws of God or men just as we should.

Neither has anyone had loyal intentions with respect to others as justly as he should, but almost everyone has deceived and injured another by words and deeds; and indeed almost everyone unjustly stabs the other from behind with shameful assaults and with wrongful accusa­tions — let him do more, if he may.

The Sin of Sex Trafficking

“Also we know well where this crime has occurred, and it is shame­ful to speak of that which has happened too widely. And it is terrible to know what too many do often, those who for a while carry out a miserable deed, who contribute together and buy a woman as a joint purchase between them and practice foul sin with that one woman, one after another, and each after the other like dogs that care not about filth; and then for a price they sell a creature of God – His own purchase that He bought at a great cost – into the power of enemies.”

“And many mis­fortunes befall this nation time and again: things have not prospered now for a long time neither at home nor abroad, but there has been destruction and hate in every district time and again, and the English have been entirely defeated for a long time now, and very truly disheartened through the anger of God”

We Pay Our Abusers:

“But all the insult that we often suffer, we repay by honoring those who insult us. We pay them continually and they humiliate us daily; they ravage and they burn, plunder and rob and carry to the ship; and lo! what else is there in all these happenings except God’s anger clear and evident over this nation?”

Sins of the people:

It is no wonder that there is mishap among us: because we know full well that now for many years men have too often not cared what they did by word or deed; but this nation, as it may appear, has become very corrupt through manifold sins and through many misdeeds: through murder and through evil deeds, through avarice and through greed, through stealing and through robbery, through man-selling and through heathen vices, through betrayals and through frauds, through attacks on kinsmen and through manslaughter, through injury of men in holy orders and through adultery, through incest and through various fornications. And also, far and wide, as we said before, more than should be are lost and perjured through the breaking of oaths and through violations of pledges, and through various lies; and non-observances of church feasts and fasts widely occur time and again. And also there are here in the land God’s adversaries, degenerate apostates, and hos­tile persecutors of the Church and entirely too many grim tyrants, and widespread des­pisers of divine laws and Christian virtues, and foolish deriders everywhere in the nation, most often of those things that the messengers of God command, and especially those things that always belong to God’s law by right.

Here in the country, as it may appear, too many are sorely wounded by the stains of sin. Here there are, as we said before, man­slayers and murderers of their kinsmen, and murderers of priests and persecutors of monas­teries, and traitors and notorious apostates, and here there are perjurers and mur­derers, and here there are injurers of men in holy orders and adulterers, and people greatly corrupted through incest and through various fornica­tions, and here there are harlots and infanti­cides and many foul adulterous fornicators, and here there are witches and sorceresses, and here there are robbers and plunderers and pilf­erers and thieves, and injurers of the people and pledge-breakers and treaty-breakers, and, in short, a countless number of all crimes and misdeeds. And we are not at all ashamed of it, but we are greatly ashamed to begin the remedy just as the books teach, and that is evident in this wretched and corrupt nation.

Sins of the Clergy:

And entirely too many holy religious foundations have deterior­at­ed because some men have previously been placed in them who ought not to have been, if one wished to show respect to God’s sanc­tuary.

And that came about, just as he said, through breach of rule by the clergy… through the sloth of the bishops and folly, and through the wicked cowardice of messengers of God, who swallowed the truths entirely too often and they mumbled through their jaws where they should have cried out”

And therefore things have now come far and wide to that full evil way that men are more ashamed now of good deeds than of misdeeds; because too often good deeds are abused with derision and the God-fearing are blamed entirely too much, and especially are men reproached and all too often greeted with contempt who love right and have fear of God to any extent.  

 Will we be Sober Saints or Drunk Disciples?

 

Samson, the Awakened, Drunken Warrior & The necessity of Spirit-Filled Youth

 Psalm 78:65: “Suddenly the Lord was up on his feet like someone roused from deep sleep, shouting like a drunken warrior.”

"A drunken warrior...what a strange picture chosen to describe the Lord. 

For many it’s too scandalous a comparison, fraught with dangerous excess and license. What is a drunken warrior but a man or woman overcome with an unreasonable sense of ability, power and courage. Their minds are flooded with superhuman thoughts that lead daring and often dubious acts.   

The drunken gentleman is the great defender of a woman’s honor against a thousand men. The overly inebriated, can take blows that would fell a sober man. The drink inflamed are able to let loose, strike out and mobilize a mob of intoxicated dreamers and doers. To the tipsy, an adventure is always afoot, a battle to fight, a monster to slay, a lover to win. 

They are predictable in their unpredictableness, wild in their witness, 

The normal desires and longings of life that are most often hid in the cellar of respectability are unlocked.

 

 

How dangerous is a soul loosed from slumber? 

A heart and hand ignited and empowered by other worldly drive, ambition and vision from a celestial drink of fire.

 

How the world could be turned upside down by heads and minds aflame and tongues loosed to utter the majesties, mysteries and possibilities of eternity!

 

We have little room for Samson's today and that’s one of the reasons our churches are hemorrhaging youth and young adults. 

Our sanctuaries have become safe places, our altars have little fire, our mission is mundane and manageable. 

Our thermostats are perpetually set at comfort billing levels. 

We avoid the edge and the view past the guardrails. 

We have tailored all our religious life to duty and obey every prohibiting sign and encourage the proliferation of more. 

Our churches have become the moaning and mumbling nursing homes of death...instead of the bloody, screaming birthing floors of life.

This is the hour for Samson's to awaken, for our youth to be stirred by the Spirit of God. It is only through the youthful gusts of upward flame that certain wonderful heights are achieved and soul stretching vistas seen.

There is a time for Samuel's reign but they must come after the chaotic and courageous seasons of lion slayers, fire starters, honey gorgers, love pursuers, riddle makers and pillar shakers...the fruitfulness of adult life is only seeded by the tilled ground of the bare-knuckle life of youth! 

“The prophet and seer Zechariah said: Then the Lord will appear over them, and his arrow will go forth like lightning; the Lord God will sound the trumpet and will march forth in the whirlwinds of the south.

The Lord of hosts will protect them,

and they shall devour, and tread down the sling stones, and they shall drink and roar as if drunk with wine, and be full like a bowl, drenched like the corners of the altar. 

On that day the Lord their God will save them, as the flock of his people; for like the jewels of a crown

they shall shine on his land. For how great is his goodness, and how great his beauty! Grain shall make the young men flourish, and new wine the young women.”

- Zechariah 9:14-17 :

In the first sermon recorded at the birth of the early church it had to contain an explanation about the apparent confusing drunk-like behavior of the Spirit baptized believers. 

The Apostle Peter had to explain: “These people are not drunk, as some of you are assuming. Nine o'clock in the morning is much too early for that.” (Acts 2:15)

The Apostle Paul had to give boundaries to the Corinthian believers on how to “hold their Spirit” in their meetings due to the “Divine madness” that they could devolve into if not controlled:

“So if the whole church comes together and everyone speaks in tongues, and inquirers or unbelievers come in, will they not say that you are out of your mind?” (1 Corinthians 14:23) 

Are such warnings and apologetics needed today in most of our churches? 

Has anyone been told to “calm down” or been counseled that their meetings are starting to look and sound like Keggers? Not too often from my experience. 

Most Christian hedonists are closet drinkers, they have to hide their addiction. They’re ashamed of just how much they drink on the goodness and glory of God. 

Ephesians 18-20 isn’t a religious downer but a glorious invitation to a greater high, a fresher joy and a deeper drink: “Don’t drink too much wine. That cheapens your life. Drink the Spirit of God, huge draughts of him.”

Let’s be honest the wild men and women have been quarantined to the basement, along with a growing group of other Christian misfits in this secularizing age. 

The church loves to memorialize her romantics, we honor what has died but vilify what is trying to live. 

We swoon on glory stories of the past but shun the path such tales point towards. We want the wine without the work, the buzz without the drinking. 

The church is in the grip of religious teetotalers who quote the prophets but silence the mouth’s prophesying. We have a form of godliness but we deny the power (2Timothy 3:5). 

Our pulpits are built on the “persuasive words of wisdom” but our services lack the “demonstration and power of the Spirit” (1 Cor 2:4). 

We are Samsons shorn.

The church is supposed to be known by its wild love for God and one-another. Not cold, formalized, ritualistic love but a fervent love or as the Aramaic bible translations puts it: “a severe love” (1Peter 4:8). 

Jesus just called the love he wanted as “HOT”! (Revelations 3:16).

It’s sometimes too costly to admit our emptiness, to confess our widowhood. Like Samson we think we can do everything we always did but without the wild locks of the Spirit. 

We gravitate towards a religious experience that resembles John the Baptist, full of self-denial, fasting’s and sermons…but we have little room or tolerance for a feasting messiah that makes gallons and gallons of wine as signs. 

We want to turn the wine of God back into the water of human wisdom and reason. We fear the uncontrollable, so we soak the altars of our gatherings in buckets and buckets of drenching forgettable churchianity.

But thankfully the fire of God’s passion and power can fall upon the sopping state of our souls and kindle afresh the love that once burned at first. 

God will have worshippers that worship Him in spirit…and in truth (John 4:24). He is greater than our hearts (1 John 3:20). 

The Divine Lover knows how to knock upon the door of our locked hearts and His voice beckons us in invitation to dine (Rev. 3:20). He is the feast; do you still hunger and thirst?

“O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” – Psalm 63:1

Let us cry out to the Spirit of God, repent of worshipping our religious scaffolding and return to the lover of our souls. Abandon the broken cisterns and seek the poured out living water.

“My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.” -Jeremiah 2:13

Cheers, the Pentecost spout is open…now go drink God!

Pastor Eric Blauer, Jacobs Well, Spokane Wa. 

 

  I'm reading John C. Maxwell's book, "Change Your World";  I first heard him on James Dobson thirty years ago, and I've never forgotten his stories, his infectious enthusiasm and joy. This book delivers the goods; written for Christian and non-Christian alike. 

   Most Christians have a sense of urgency about the times we live; and many have devoted themselves to political hopes, others sigh and say, the End is near, it's a sign of the times.... But we have a better hope, not spinach like Popeye, our "spinach" is the power of the Holy Spirit to change people, communities and worlds. 

We have this power in earthen vessels and the gates of hell cannot prevail against it. Only our procrastination, excuses and lack of vision can defeat us. "Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose. It takes courage to believe the best is yet to come. That courageous faith will help us to win tomorrow. But we find it when we allow ourselves to feel the urgency of today." 

  Maxwell visited an at-risk school and a third grader named Ethan asked him, "Do you ever feel, deep down here [pointing to his heart] that you want to help people and make a difference?"                      He couldn't believe it! He responded, "Ethan, that's exactly the way I feel! "Every day deep down in my heart I want to make a difference."

  Maxwell goes on to share a story about Rob, a close friend of his who took a wrong turn and he entered a small urban community called Avondale. 

As Rob drove around what he saw arrested his attention. He witnessed a drug deal, prostitutes soliciting customers in the middle of the day, gang members holding court with school age boys who should have been in class, and moms clearly under the influence watching passively as bunches of children ran around on their lawns.

 "I felt angry," Rob said. I was angry at the condition of my community. Right across the street from my work were people suffering, trapped by their circumstances. I felt the pain of those father's, unable to provide for their kids. I was angry at the waste of human potential. Angry because I knew these children, through no fault of their own, were trapped in a societal prison of poverty, abuse and neglect. But I was also angry at myself, angry that I hadn't seen what was happening right in front of me. It deeply convicted me that although I was helping kids around the world, I had failed to see that hopelessness lived next door." 

Avondale ranked in the bottom 1 percent of U.S. neighborhoods for safety, with 776 crimes per square mile per year, in contrast to the rest of the U.S. at 50 per square mile. 

He organized some like minded people and after research etc., they opened an after school reading program for kids and adults, they organized classes in English as a second language, hosted health fairs, taught interviewing skills to job seekers, helped feed families in need and provided mentors to help people grow. They found the number one determinant of whether kids graduate from High school is Third grade literacy. How many have the gift of teaching within the church!

Let me share one moving story about a student we'll call Haylee, she found hope and healing in a desperate situation. She was being raised by her grandmother because her mother was a drug addict, and her father was in jail. Working multiple jobs and trying to do the best she could for her granddaughter, Haylee's grandmother enrolled her in the new after school care school. It has become a safe, secure place for her, and Haylee has been growing and thriving. But then last year, Haylee's grandma received a call that the girls's mom had passed away from a drug overdose. It's traumatic for a child to lose a parent, and even harder when its to drug addiction. However, Haylee is going to be okay because she is in a place filed with love and support. 

  A friend of the school who offers free counseling to any kids who need it, has been doing grief counseling with Haylee. When Haylee shared with the counselor that she wanted a punching bag and gloves to help her work through her intense feelings, someone in the school community made sure Haylee received those items. Word also got out about the death of Haylee's mom, and complete strangers raised money to give to Haylee's grandma for her care. While the money won't fix all the problems they face, it will definitely alleviate some stressors during a hard time." 

  In short, if you feel, 

"It's all I can stands, and I can't stands no more!" 

Then put your faith in Christ, not our political machine, seek places where you can share your love and talents to help change your community. You may save a life and you are sure to hear the Lord say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." 

All schools need teacher's helpers, all missions need Spirit filled Christians to come alongside the men and women in the programs; there are widows, orphans, destitute, handicapped, sick, imprisoned, strangers, hungry people at our door. Who will help? If not you, then who? If not now, then when? 

Be salt, be light, and see if Christ does not honor His promise --  "Give, and it will be given to you. They will pour into your lap a good measure—pressed down, shaken together, and running over."

 

 One last thought to ponder: Unless you want to help people whether they become a Christian or not, your love is still in infancy.

  Anna Laetitia Barbauld was inquiring into –

“Those Kinds of Distress Which Excite Agreeable Sensations,”

 in which she had analyzed the emotion of pity into its constituents of – love, sympathy with pain, and the pleasure of feeling imaginary sorrow…”

“The pleasure of feeling imaginary sorrow”, how that struck me!       I think the way she uses the word "imaginary" is not exactly as we use it, I think that she simply means they are real emotions that we feel, and may indeed be very close to those of the sufferer, but the suffering isn't ours, it's imaginary, we, through compassion, imagine their hurt.

I read it over a number of times, and it reminded me of what could almost be called an echo by Henry Ward Beecher –

“Pity is a state of kindness excited by the site of suffering.” 

 I have always felt the emotions one feels when sympathizing with a sufferer a very difficult thing to describe. The situations can be so grim but in the midst of it is a longing to be where the suffering abide. 

When I read this quote "a state of kindness" it seemed so clear to me. Suffering humanity draws out, compels us, to do something kind to that suffering person. And in so doing, we experience a pleasure that loving sympathy produces in us.

 

I have a Facebook friend that I consider a mentor, as well as a friend.   Her life is, and has been, such an example of Christlikeness that with each new story she tells I see more, feel more, and understand more. She had a daughter, Rachel, that was born deaf, mute and blind; she lived to be 25 yrs. old as an infant, unable to talk or care for herself in any way. Each year on Rachel's birthday she writes about her life with her, the following is one of those posts. 

With a special needs child, there are decisions parents have to make that are somewhat uncommon to the normalcy of child rearing.

For instance, do we use a feeding tube or feed her ourselves? Do we allow them to put her to death, to conjure up enough oxygen to breath correctly? (Yes, we did have to do that.)

Do we put her in special education or hire a nurse? Do we do keep her at home, put her in an institution, school?

How do get her circulation to keep her warm? What wheelchairs were best for a tiny crooked child? (Her scoliosis put her in a near c positioning.)

How could we do clothes without buttons or zippers that hurt? (These could bruise, cause bed sores, or just discomfort.)

Do you know how we answered all the questions?

Simple.

If the tables were turned, and we were Rachel, what would we want done? That’s how we made every single decision for Rachel.

So…..she never had a feeding tube.

We made her puréed food most of the time. The experts would tell us it would be much easier if we had a feeding tube. But we knew while it might be easier for us, it would not be for her. We chose to feed her until we couldn’t. So, she never had infections common to children like her. It was a wonderful bonding time for us, even though we often said it was like feeding a baby alligator as much as she twisted, turned or if a seizure came.

We chose to keep her with us the majority of her life, though we did try school for part time. It was quite the mix. We felt most comfortable with her with us. So, we taught school, did mission work, worked in an office, ran a bookstore, daycare, travel agency all…..with Rachel.

Why?

Because we felt that’s what we’d want if we were Rachel.

Because if we had been Rachel, we would have wanted to travel, we traveled to all the United States except Alaska and Wisconsin, and several foreign countries.

She loved it all! I think it actually kept her healthier.

Dan didn’t like the hardness of wheelchair material, so one day we went to a Virginia hospital. Deep in the basement we helped build a cushion wheelchair. They formed a firm, but play doh feel, piece that fit inside the chair. Fascinating.

It was much more comfortable.

We were careful about snaps, buttons, zippers. Her comfort became our utmost concern in everything. We’d even get clothes made for her. Extra socks for her poor circulation. Heating pads, sleeping cushions, anything to relieve her pain.

We are proud to say Rachel never had a bed sore! Nor an exterior infection.

Not one in 25 years.

She was bathed everyday.

Her hair was washed and brushed.

Her teeth were brushed.

Lotion to keep her dry skin soft was applied. A heating pad wrapped around her after her bath, so she didn’t get too cold. Her bed was always clean no matter how many times we had to change it.

Because…. if we had been Rachel,

these are things we would enjoy.

As medically fragile as Rachel was, we expected to be in and out of hospitals all the time. In 25 years, I think she was hospitalized less than 4 times. Miraculous.

The worst infection she had was pneumonia. After our initial hospital testing at birth and diagnosis, which I’ve already shared, we never left her alone in a hospital.

And it was really strange. I could tell if she had an infection or stomachache. She would get a peculiar smell. Dan could tell when her head was hurting.

We tried to be very cued in to reading her, as she wasn’t capable of telling us.

Both of us can read people pretty good now, even if they don’t say a word.

If she was in school, we made plenty of unexpected visits, to keep an eyeon her. There were times we took her out of school, to protect her.

Why?

Because if we were Rachel, we would want someone to protect us, to be our advocate, to keep us as safe.

What we learned from this kind of thinking and life processing, was a lesson I feel everybody can find beneficial in their lives.

When you’re thinking of how to love your spouse, your child, your sibling, your parent, your co worker, your friend, your whoever, it will serve you well to simply say:

What would I want them to do to me…..if I was…them.

Then do that for them.

It really will help you to see life from a different perspective. It will affect your relationships. It really is a wonderful way of loving another.

Perhaps it’s what Jesus had in mind when He said “Do unto others as you want them to do unto you.”

A beautiful godly wisdom.

Look for opportunities to serve this way and see the miracles grow.

~AnnStewartPorter

 Becoming Prayer for the Damned 

If you’ve never seen a meth addict in the throes of a body contorting high, it's hard to explain the horror. We met Natalie on the sidewalk in front of our church. She was painfully high if you can call a life-crushing, hope-stealing, body-hammering...a high. She was around 21 but obviously a few feet from eternity on the road she was on. 

Her name was Natalie, she had bruises on her arms. She wore loose clothing that hung off her contorting skinny body. She was in the thrills of a a drug chaos. Meth creates havoc on the central nervous system, you can see it yanking each nerve fiber like the master of puppets it is. Violently racing through their cerebral cortex like a city street in Bombay, confusing, chaotic and completely out of control. 

She wept openly, stumbled over her words as they poured out of her frightened and embarrassed soul. She was skittish, but that’s  putting it mildly. Through a mix of excuses, mumblings about men, prostitution and words that liars have said to her...she begged, blubbered and manifested the spirit of death before us. She was being consumed like dry paper. 

Some there offered to pray for her, what else can you do in a moment like that, but she said she had prayed already. I stood there silent, no prayers to pray for her. I could only pray for someone to come help us minister to young women like her. I prayed for a house to care for abused women who are being raped by darkness. I prayed for a church to rise up that can say more than, “Can we pray for you?”.     I am sick of just praying, I want to do something, I want to be the answer to prayers for the damned. 

Unfortunately there were about 8 of us around her on the sidewalk, that means there were too many for compassion to fully help. 

She acted like a caged dog and paced around in circles like one who had been beaten and abused. Such animals want to be pet, but are deathly afraid of the hands that meet out pain and pleasure. 

It was just too confusing for her to remain there, so she stumbled off in a fit of mixed desires that overwhelmed her already fried mind, leaving us wounded and...praying.

“Because of your wrath there is no health in my body; my bones have no soundness because of my sin. My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear. My wounds fester and are loathsome because of my sinful folly. I am bowed down and brought very low; all day long I go about mourning. My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart. All my longings lie open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes. My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away. Those who seek my life set their traps, those who would harm me talk of my ruin; all day long they plot deception.” -Psalms 38:3-12

   This is the "can do" attitude that gets the job and keeps a person working. 

"I have kicked yesterday in the ass, got rid of my demons. I need to look forward to tomorrow, anyone who has a job doing maintenance, handyman, jack of all trades, construction; I'll pick fly poop out of pepper, I learn quick and I love to work, just need a chance. Thanks."

Eric at UGM

 My oldest son Eric, Pastors in the working poor part of Spokane Wa. He also ministers at the Union Gospel Mission, here is a vivid and accurate account of that ministry. 

"I was so encouraged after the UGM chapel service by this young man named Anthony. He shared how a few months back I had preached a message about King Nebuchadnezzar and at the time he was resistant to seeing himself in light of the truth presented. But God has been working on his heart and through the struggle new desires to align his heart and life with God’s will and ways have been unfolding. He was refreshingly honest about the state of his soul, no flowery "christianese", no over-promising, just simple, raw and humble reality.

I think anyone who is in the preach & teach calling, probably struggles with wondering if all they try to bring to opportunities to speak makes a meaningful impact. It’s a profession that is not easily measured at the end of a day. 

It’s work that is connected to other people’s responses and the outworking of many factors that connect to other people, places and moments. 

So determining if you’re fruitful is harder than determining if you're faithful.

It takes prayerful and persistent grit, nerve and pluck to find all that is needed before, during and after ministering the gospel.

This is why encouragement is so important in life and especially in the church. Leaders are pummeled with discouragement every week. They are pressed from within and without by adversaries of all kinds.

Thank you Lord for the small, but meaningful encouragements that come from grateful people who come back and say thank you.

Luke‬ ‭17‬:‭11‬-‭19‬

“As Jesus continued on toward Jerusalem, he reached the border between Galilee and Samaria. As he entered a village there, ten men with leprosy stood at a distance, crying out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” He looked at them and said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed of their leprosy. One of them, when he saw that he was healed, came back to Jesus, shouting, “Praise God!” He fell to the ground at Jesus’ feet, thanking him for what he had done. This man was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, “Didn’t I heal ten men? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?” And Jesus said to the man, “Stand up and go. Your faith has healed you.””

 Bible Study - If you lead one or are in one, here are some important topics to study.

Discovering Biblical answers on

1. How to console the grieving

2. How to help the addict recover

3. How to minister to the elderly

4. How to talk to teens about chastity

5. How to reach the LGBTQ population

6. How to help the victim of child abuse recover

7. How to minister to young children

8. How to reach the atheist

9. How to mentor others and how to get people to mentor

10. How to minister to those considering divorce

11. How to help the victim of sexual assault

12. How to help the victim of domestic violence.

 

I saw this post on a site where atheists and Christians discuss their beliefs, I found the subject out of my comfort zone, but I wanted to say something, I just had to! So this is the discussion as it was said in hopes it may give you an example of how one Christian shares His faith.

Here are the comments when  I read it -- 

 "Actually, I think scientific realism is like thinking the flashlight is showing you reality, when you’re still in the dark room with the philosophers."

"I am not a dualist:

What do I have to do to become a naturalist-idealist-dualist?

--

My opinion:

(Among other things?) believe in metaphysics!?" 

So I didn't know what to say about any of that, but this is what I did say, and his response -- 

  This is such an interesting post. I'm not sure I can add much, this is really above my pay grade. But like the blind man when asked 'who healed you' replied, 'I don't know who he is, but I do know: I once was blind but now I see.'

 I was like that, I was in a dark room, not looking for a cat, but answers for real world problems. I didn't know the scientific basis for my woes, nor the psychological causes, I just knew I was empty within, that was perfectly clear, and I knew I had inner rage, insecurities, a driving ego, lusts without control, a spiritual blindness and a poor relationship with my wife. 

I had no idea why I was here, what I was supposed to do, or where I was going or where it would end. I did see a tiny light, so I followed it, and after fifty three years it has grown each year and answered all the questions I had and countless others I never fathomed. For me, Jesus was that light and He spread a little of it within me, and nothing has quenched it yet. 

His response -- "The way you seem to be thinking about it is the following; you were, at one point in the past, in a dark room, as it were. This dark room was a place of uncertainty, meaninglessness, and social problems. Once you found Jesus, you had an answer to these problems that worked, cohesively, with your situation. This means that the practical consequences, for you, of adopting Christianity as a belief and a lifestyle, was followed by a substantial improvement in your life, from a practical standpoint. You would seem to view this practical improvement as confirmation that the belief is true.

Is that accurate?"

I think you are right in all of what you said except the part, which to me is the most important part, and that is there was nothing cohesive in the demands of Christ. I would never, ever been able to follow His teachings if it were left up to me. I loved my lusts, I nursed my angers, my mind was not spiritual in any way and it all showed in my relationships, so how does one overcome that! It had been impossible, and to be honest, it still is today if it were not for the part that Jesus actively plays.

 From the first night that I sat down to take a look at the teachings of Jesus something happened that was outside of my experience and strange as it was I found it absolutely irresistible! Words fail to explain it but something descended on me, in me and through me, that brought every word to light and every command a joy! I was enveloped in what one might define as a heavenly glow, it was internal. I've come to understand now that it is the very thing Jesus promised to us, and He called it the Holy Spirit, the comforter, the helper. 

Wow! This shook my world! I think I may have heard the term, "A religious experience" but nothing in my life ever encountered it. I had been in love, been highly inspired by a person, music, acts of compassion, noble themes and heroic actions, but this, this was all of that wrapped up into one powerful, irresistible inner moving. Like they say, "Better felt than told." 

But whatever it was I wanted more of it! The next day I awoke and feared it would be gone, that it was just a caffein vision or some strange and wonderful mood, but it was there to greet me, and it continued to flood my soul intensely for the next six months! My heart, conscience, and reasoning all agreed, this was good and so good, I simply must follow it. 

That, again, was fifty three years ago, and I now understand the term, "The pearl of great price." It is my greatest joy, my refuge and my strength, an ever present gift. Forgive me while I gush LOL

 "Someone recently told me this concerning the problem of evil. 

“My point is we can only assume or hope that God is good. If we look at the actual evidence or data around us and the (supposed) encounters of others, we see great beauty and love but also great ugliness and cruelty. The Christian response is that the latter is due to the Fallen state of things, but to me it seems to be built into reality… which is scary.”

I’ve wrestled with this scariness as well, and grappled with the existential terror of considering that the ultimate power of the universe (God) might be evil. I went down that rabbit hole and came to the conclusion that it’s not possible because evil is not self-sustaining, evil is self-destructive, it has no ultimate foundation of truth. It is always divided against itself, betraying, deceiving, and descending into chaos. It cannot be the Ground of being. Goodness, however, is self-sustaining, self-flourishing, blossoming into greater good, and eternally triumphing. Not only that, but the universe blossoms towards greater awareness, and awareness finds its consummation in empathy. Goodness is the omega point. We are all literally part of each other and what is done to the other is done to me. If I matter, then you matter too. Lack of empathy is ignorance. 

But let us consider the possibility that evil is indeed part of the eternal nature of things, as some kind of yin and yang. Even if this is so, it is there to be eternally overcome. The greater power is still good, because evil is still chaotic and self-destructive. Just look at us. We have evolved into beings who have developed empathy and are now struggling for equality. Goodness is the only organizing principle that flourishes instead of self-destructs. The universe is reaching forward towards something, and it’s not evil, it’s goodness."

Jacob M. Wright

 

 "Only earthbound man still clings to the dark and poisoning superstition that his world is bounded by the nearest hill, his universe ends at river shore, his common humanity is enclosed in the tight circle of those who share his town or his views and the color of his skin. It is — It is your job, the task of young people in this world, to strip the last remnants of that ancient, cruel belief from the civilization of man."

—Robert F Kennedy, Day of Affirmation Speech, Cape Town, South Africa, June 6, 1968

  My oldest son had a dream and like all dreams, it was made up of random and bizarre images and messages. This dream left him with a distinct feeling that today's child is exposed to so many voices and messages from such a vast number of directions that it would bewilder anyone. So he wrote down the impressions from his dream and titled it, Who is Gurnell West, a fictional person. 

Who is Gurnell West? 

“An echo from the past, a portent of the present and thunder from the future”

“Part provocateur, prophet, Bronx boxer, tent revivalist, radio shock jockey, dancing snake handling backwoods preacher, 100 proof truth moonshine bootlegger, temptation of the married and fantasy of the unwed, schoolyard bully to Tories, Soyboys and Progressive Home-wreckers.

So basically…he’s trouble with a capital T.

Don’t listen, read, watch or whisper about him. If you hear his name mentioned…cancel, curse or call upon whatever Deity or Deputy you can.

These are dangerous days and Gurnell West is pumping his pious and political prognostications through the PowerLines of communication to any hungry culture consumer daring enough to expose themselves to his rants and writings.

You’ve been warned.”

  

 I love good parenting!!!! Wish I had more of it, wish I had been better. 

Here is a pic of a fella that promised to take his son to the ball game, he rushed home from an exhausting day of work in the coal mines just to make sure he'd keep his promise to his son. 

Heroic!

"He who stops his ears from hearing about bloodshed, and shuts his eyes from looking upon evil." Is. 33:15 

I was raised on TV and movies, and I can't help but wonder if I had followed Philippians 4:8 -  "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." How would that have impacted me? Years of seeing and hearing things evil, does that affect our emotional health far more than we ever imagined? One can't help but wonder?  

 

  

If you don't supplement your Bible reading with the great Christian authors of the past you are missing the greatest sermons every preached, and the keenest Christian minds that will help you grow, thrive, and be grounded.

 

"What is Jesus saving people from? Traditionally in evangelicalism, Jesus is saving us from what he’s going to do to us if we don’t let him save us.

That is, Jesus is sparing us eternal damnation. So when you deconstruct the idea of eternal hell, and realize it is neither logical nor scriptural, what is Jesus saving people from?

The term “salvation” actually means to be healed and made whole. It is to be restored to divine image bearers, which means to be restored to our true humanity. True humanity can be best described as simply having the fruit of the Spirit, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control.

What Jesus is doing as Savior is corporately reconciling the world (setting the captive free, liberating the oppressed, binding up the broken hearted) by individually restoring us back to our true humanity. This is plenty enough to need saved without an afterlife threat. The world needs reconciled."

Jacob M. Wright.

 

If you think it's hard to have kids, just wait until you see how hard it is to live and die alone.

 

“Give me just one generation of good Christian mothers, and I will change the world.”

-St. John Chrysostom

 

English nurses praying for their patients before the start of a shift - Leeds, Yorkshire, 1956

Mark Twain On His Dinner With Helen Keller  

 The following is an excerpt from the Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume 2. It is a journal entry from January 17, 1901 about his dinner with Helen Keller.

"Helen Keller dined with us yesterday evening. She was accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Macy. 

Mrs. Macy became her first teacher in the neighborhood of twenty years ago, and has been at her side ever since. Helen Keller is the eighth wonder of the world; Mrs. Macy is the ninth. 

Mrs. Macy’s achievement seems to me to easily throw all previous miracles into the shade and take the importance out of them. 

Helen was a lump of clay, another Adam—deaf, dumb, blind, inert, dull, groping, almost insentient: Miss Sullivan blew the breath of intelligence into her and woke the clay to life. 

But there the parallel ends. From that point onward there is no twin-ship between Adam and Helen; in fact the twin-ship does not reach quite that far, for neither light nor intelligence was blown into Adam’s clay, but only the breath of physical life. Adam began his career without an intellect, and there is no evidence that he ever acquired one. Helen is quite a different kind of Adam.                    She was born with a fine mind and a bright wit, and by help of Miss Sullivan’s amazing gifts as a teacher this mental endowment has been developed until the result is what we see to-day: a stone deaf, dumb, and blind girl who is equipped with a wide and various and complete university education—a wonderful creature who sees without eyes, hears without ears, and speaks with dumb lips. 

She stands alone in history. it has taken all the ages to produce a Helen Keller—and a Miss Sullivan. The names belong together; without Miss Sullivan there had been no Helen Keller.

At dinner the stream of conversation flowed gaily along without let or hindrance, the deaf, dumb, and blind girl taking her full share in it, and contributing her full share of jest and repartee and laughter.

 Every remark made was reported to Helen by Mrs. Macy with the fingers of one hand, and so rapidly that by the time the utterer of it had reached his last word, Mrs. Macy had delivered that word into Helen’s hand, so there was no waiting, there were no intervals. This is a wonderful thing, for the reason that Mrs. Macy does not use shorthand forms, but spells each word out. Her fingers have to move as swiftly as do the fingers of a pianist. The eye of the witness is not quick enough to follow their movements.

 Helen’s talk sparkles. She is unusually quick and bright. The person who fires off smart felicities seldom has the luck to hit her in a dumb place; she is almost certain to send back as good as she gets, and almost as certainly with an improvement added.

I had not met her for a long time. in the meantime, she has become a woman. By this I mean that whereas formerly she lived in a world which was unreal—a sort of half world, a moon with only its bright and beautiful side presented to her, and its dark and repulsive side concealed from her—I think she now lives in the world that the rest of us know. I think that this is not wholly a guess. I seemed to notice evidences all along that it is a fact. I think she is not now the Helen Keller whom Susan Coolidge knew, and about whom she wrote, with such subtle pathos and charm:

Behind her triple prison-bars shut in She sits, the whitest soul on earth to-day.

No shadowing stain, no whispered hint of sin, into that sanctuary finds the way.

That was all true in those earlier days. When I first knew Helen she was fourteen years old, and up to that time all soiling and sorrowful and unpleasant things had been carefully kept from her. The word death was not in her vocabulary, nor the word grave. She was indeed “the whitest soul on earth”—the poet’s words had said the truth. 

“To her mind—The world is not the sordid world we know; it is a happy and benignant spot where kindness reigns, and jealousy is not.”

I am sure she has lost that gracious world, and now inhabits the one we all know—and deplore. The poet’s description of Helen’s face is vivid, and as exactly true as it is vivid:

 Like a strange alabaster mask her face, Rayless and sightless, set in patience dumb, until like quick electric currents come the signals of life into her lonely place; Then, like a lamp just lit, an inward gleam flashes within the mask’s opacity, the features glow and dimple suddenly, and fun and tenderness and sparkle seem to irradiate the lines once dull and blind, while the white slender fingers reach and cling with quick imploring gestures, questioning the mysteries and the meanings.

Seen once, the moving and eloquent play of emotion in her face is forever unforgettable. I have not seen the like of it in any other face, and shall not, I know. One would suppose that delicate sound vibrations could not reach her save through some very favorable medium—like wood, for instance—but it is not so. Once yesterday evening, while she was sitting musing in a heavily tufted chair, my secretary began to play on the orchestrelle. Helen’s face flushed and brightened on the instant, and the waves of delighted emotion began to sweep across it. Her hands were resting upon the thick and cushion-like upholstery of her chair, but they sprang into action at once, like a conductor’s, and began to beat the time and follow the rhythm."