“It is not the critic who counts; 

not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, 

or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.

 

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, 

whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; 

who strives valiantly; 

who errs, who comes short again and again, 

because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; 

but who does actually strive to do the deeds; 

who knows great enthusiasms, 

the great devotions; 

who spends himself in a worthy cause;

 

who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, 

and who at the worst, if he fails, 

at least fails while daring greatly, 

so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

"But the noble man 

devises noble plans;

And by noble plans he stands."

Isaiah 32:8

 What does the voice of the Lord sound like? Let's allow the Bible to teach us - 

 “Let my teaching drop as the rain,

My speech distill as the dew,

As the droplets on the fresh grass

And as the showers on the herb.” Deuteronomy 32:2

I love that verse, and we all want to speak to those we love in that way. I read a piece from a book titled Well-Springs of Truth" and he shares his thoughts on how we, as ambassadors for Christ, can illustrate it. 

 “Never is the deep, strong voice of man, 

Or the low, sweet voice of woman, 

Firmer than in the earnest but mellow tones of speech, 

Richer than the richest music, which are a delight while they are heard, 

Which linger still upon the ear in softened echoes, 

And which, when they have ceased, 

Come back to memory like the murmurs of a distant hymn.

Oh, it is very pleasant to listen to such voices, 

Accordant with lofty conceptions and sweet humanities,

The soul breathings that now swell with daring imaginations,

And then sink into the gentleness of sadness or pity. 

I have heard such voices,

Voices that were music from the soul and to it – 

The very melody of thought, 

And of thought that was the very soul of goodness.

Beautiful conceptions sang along the syllables, 

Beautiful feelings came trickling from the heart in liquid tones. 

Very pleasant are such voices, 

Pleasant on the fragrant air of a summer’s evening, 

Pleasant by the fire on a winter’s night, 

pleasant in the palace,

pleasant in the shanty, 

pleasant while they last, pleasant to remember even with sorrow,

when they are silent, 

never again attune and sweeten the common air of earth."  

 Dante getting salty about preachers in his day.

“‘Down there, when you philosophize, you fail to follow one true path, 

so does the love of show preoccupy your mind and carry you away,

 ‘and even this is tolerated here with less wrath than when holy Scripture is neglected or its doctrines are mistaught.

‘There is no thought among you of the blood it costs to sow the world with it, or how acceptable he is who humbly makes his way to it.

‘Each strives to gain attention by inventing new ideas, expounded by the preachers at some length—

but the Gospel remains silent…”

“‘Christ did not say to His first congregation: 

“Go preach idle nonsense to the world,” 

but gave to them a sound foundation. 

‘And that alone resounded from their lips, so that, in their warfare to ignite the faith, they used the Gospel as their shield and lance.

‘Now preachers ply their trade with buffoonery and jokes, their cowls inflating if they get a laugh 

and the people ask for nothing more.”

— Paradiso XXIX by Dante

 It is a blessed effect, then, of sorrow which God appoints for ourselves, 

that it makes us take note of sorrows which others are enduring. 

And if it make us look to Christ's poor with a more tender regard, with a deep and more brotherly affection than hitherto; it is, at the same time, a sign that we are growing in acquaintance and in communion with Him.

— 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡,

   “No man is the whole of himself until he has developed this capacity to see something in life besides its prose. (Written or spoken language in its ordinary form, dull or shallow, but factual.) 

We can, to be sure, put into prose our business letters, the daily news, the round of family gossip, the quotations of the stock exchange;   the details of factual experience can be set in bare, plain prose.

But no one should suppose that this represents the full truth about anything. 

If one would know the truth about an eagle, he may consult a scientific textbook and learn the ornithological details. 

They will be correct, but they will not be adequate to describe an eagle. 

Let the poet Tennyson, for example, supply some of the lack: 

“He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands, 

Ringed with the azure world, he stands. 

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls, 

And like a thunderbolt he falls.”

That is an eagle! 

Any man’s life has been a failure when its whole story can be told in prosaic (ordinary, commonplace, unromantic, uninspired) indicative sentences. 

The deepest and finest experiences of humankind have always been expressed in poetry, bodied forth in pictures, symbolized in imagination, set to music and sung. 

All of Christmas could not be expressed without evergreen trees, holly, mistletoe, angels, carols and giving. 

The masters of history articulate what we experience but cannot say.” 

Harry Emerson Fosdick.  

 

"Saying goodbye to those we love so dearly here on earth is so very difficult, whether we lose them to death itself, a betrayal, a divorce, or a broken mind or body.

How anyone goes through these without the presence of God,

I simply do not know.

It feels like you just fall apart.

You just walk around with pieces rattling around inside you.

You feel fragmented, undone.

It takes a long time to address the journey,

and longer still, to get through the bruises

of the heart, and cuttings of the soul.

You have to embrace that you will be walking with these beautiful unrestored pieces of vintage warfares, with their stories rich and deep. 

 You will come to know the insatiable wonder

of the realities that death is part of the living, 

just as sure as dying is a rebirthing for them and you.

Your mind will play tricks on you.

Your emotions will bully you.

Your faith will need to be fierce.

You’re going to feel at best, strange in this old world, 

and devastated in the worst.

Just when you think the weeping has run its course, 

the nether springs deep in your hardest pieces will start to leak and overflow.

Best not be trying for that perfection of a life without the pieces. You’ll walk all over them and straight through them, 

circle around and do it again.

I’ve walked around in pieces for a

very long time now.

But I can tell you, I’d rather be in a million pieces at His feet, 

than be a million miles from His Presence.

My Savior knows what to do with my pieces.

He knows He can pull off one of those pieces and use it to meet the needs of another. 

I’ve seen Him take pieces and make songs,

restore families, 

build amazing homes, 

rejuvenate the untuned heart, 

place the truth in all its beauty, 

straight down in the midst of enemies.

Oh the miraculous goodness, the exquisite healing of Jesus, 

the power of pain in His hands.

Let it be.

Teach me to always come to Your Presence."

Ann Stewart Porter.

 

 

“I can tell you love it,

because that’s what my face looks like

when I love something.”

She said these words with eyes red and puffy after a good moment of crying in the prayerful embrace of a loving team member from our church.

These are sacred moments when the truth of Jesus’ words are like arms to fall into, exhausted from the weight of life’s troubles, the ache of our hearts and the reviving taste of living water. She was alive in the moment, awakened by the Spirit, open and welcoming to the presence of Christ in the basement chapel.

But this is just an encounter, hopefully a seed was planted in the words prayed, the confessions made, the turning to Jesus that happened in the rushing tide of His incoming.

But time will tell, it’s His work to bring new life within someone. We just pray, wait and watch, looking for signs of a seed breaking open and something growing. Carefully tending possibilities with small but meaningful intentions. Praying.

Giving her a Bible and next steps material to help her understand what has happened and what to do next.

Picking her up for Church.

Loving her kids.

Encouraging her in the hard work of her moment in crisis.

Holding her in thought and intention.

Such a plan seems so fragile and vulnerable, like a newborn baby in the arms of a new parent. This is how life arrives because love is wild and dangerous.

I hope that all our moments of outreach are upheld with loving faces that bear the testimony that Jesus is good and He satisfies the soul. I pray that every worker we bring with us will shine with God’s glory, the glory that comes from a relationship that is deeply nourishing and real. I pray that each hand laid in prayer, each word said in encouragement, every song sung will be a witness to “taste and see” that the Lord is good.

When I helped her get out of the van at the shelter, I could see the look on her face that knows she’s back to mom duty and that’s no easy task with three young boys. I touched her shoulder and tried to encourage her to keep pressing forward little by little.

Inside I am praying the power of God will hold her, the love of God will pour out upon her and that new life will be stronger than any distraction, deception or challenge ahead.

Please join me.

Pastor Eric, Jacob's Well Spokane Wa. 

 

By: This Blew Up My Mind

“When pregnant, the cells of the baby migrate into the mothers bloodstream and then circle back into the baby, it’s called “fetal-maternal microchimerism”.⁠

For 41 weeks, the cells circulate and merge backwards and forwards, and after the baby is born, many of these cells stay in the mother’s body, leaving a permanent imprint in the mothers tissues, bones, brain, and skin, and often stay there for decades.

Every single child a mother has afterwards will leave a similar imprint on her body, too.

Even if a pregnancy doesn't go to full term or if you have an abortion, these cells still migrate into your bloodstream.

Research has shown that if a mother's heart is injured, fetal cells will rush to the site of the injury and change into different types of cells that specialize in mending the heart.

The baby helps repair the mother, while the mother builds the baby.

How cool is that?

This is often why certain illnesses vanish while pregnant.

It’s incredible how mothers bodies protect the baby at all costs, and the baby protects & rebuilds the mother back - so that the baby can develop safely and survive.

Think about crazy cravings for a moment. What was the mother deficient in that the baby made them crave?

Studies have also shown cells from a fetus in a mothers brain 18 years after she gave birth. How amazing is that?”

If you’re a mom you know how you can intuitively feel your child even when they are not there….Well, now there is scientific proof that moms carry them for years and years even after they have given birth to them.

I find this to be so very beautiful.

 

"Had someone charge me again with "creating a God in my own image" by my insistence that God is like Jesus, a God who loves his enemies and is non-violent. A God who has the fruit of the Spirit. 

Since when is loving enemies and non-violence in humanity’s own image? (Wouldn't it be nice if everyone was just naturally a follower of Jesus.)

Retribution is in our own image. Wrath and violence is in our own image. 

A non-violent God is a God whose ways are higher than humans violent ways, and therefore a God who sets the example to call us to the same. 

If you want a God in your own image, a non-violent God is not the way to go. Humans are violent, Jesus is not. Jesus loves his enemies. Jesus has a justice that restores, not just vindictively injures and destroys. 

I am actually arguing against the god of our own image. I am arguing for a God whose ways are higher than humans.

I am arguing for a God who challenges our dark ways of dehumanization and violence, not participates in them, and whose example calls us to be peacemakers and lovers of enemies. 

A God who is like Jesus.

Jacob M. Wright. 

 

  "Dr. Frank Mayfield was touring Tewksbury Institute when, on his way out, he accidentally collided with an elderly floor maid. 

To cover the awkward moment Dr. Mayfield started asking questions.

"How long have you worked here?"

"I've worked here almost since the place opened," the maid replied.

"What can you tell me about the history of this place?" he asked.

"I don't think I can tell you anything, but I could show you something."

With that, she led him down to the basement under the oldest section of the building. 

She pointed to one of, what looked like small prison cells, their iron bars rusted with age, and said, 

"That's the cage where they used to keep Annie Sullivan."

"Who's Annie?" the doctor asked.

Annie was a young girl who was brought in here because she was incorrigible—nobody could do anything with her. 

She'd bite and scream and throw her food at people. 

The doctors and nurses couldn't even examine her or anything.

 I'd see them trying with her spitting and scratching at them.

"I was only a few years younger than her myself and I used to think, 'I sure would hate to be locked up in a cage like that.' 

I wanted to help her, but I didn't have any idea what I could do. 

I mean, if the doctors and nurses couldn't help her, what could someone like me do?

"I didn't know what else to do, so I just baked her some brownies one night after work. The next day I brought them in. 

I walked carefully to her cage and said, 'Annie, I baked these brownies just for you. I'll put them right here on the floor and you can come and get them if you want.'

"Then I got out of there just as fast as I could because I was afraid she might throw them at me. But she didn't. 

She actually took the brownies and ate them.

 After that, she was just a little bit nicer to me when I was around. 

And sometimes I'd talk to her. 

Once, I even got her laughing.

One of the nurses noticed this and told the doctor. 

They asked me if I'd help them with Annie. 

I said I would if I could. So that's how it came about that 

Every time they wanted to see Annie or examine her, 

I went into the cage first, explained and calmed her down and held her hand.

This is how they discovered that Annie was almost blind."

After they'd been working with her for about a year—and it was tough sledding with Annie—the Perkins institute for the Blind opened its doors. 

They were able to help her and she went on to study and she became a teacher herself.

Annie came back to the Tewksbury Institute to visit, and to see what she could do to help out. 

At first, the Director didn't say anything and then he thought about 

a letter he'd just received. 

A man had written to him about his daughter. 

She was absolutely unruly—

almost like an animal. 

She was blind and deaf as well as 'deranged.'

He was at his wit's end, but he didn't want to put her in an asylum. 

So he wrote the Institute to ask if they knew of anyone who would come to his house and work with his daughter.

And that is how Annie Sullivan became the lifelong companion of Helen Keller.

When Helen Keller received the Nobel Prize, she was asked who had the greatest impact on her life and she said, "Annie Sullivan."

But Annie said, 

"No Helen. The woman who had the greatest influence on both our lives was a floor maid at the Tewksbury Institute."

 

Shared to me by ~Ann Stewart Porter

 “The woman said to him, 

“Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.” -John 4:15

She takes two buses to get to Jacob's Well Church, and yesterday she responded to the gospel call at the end of the message on the woman at the well in John 4.

 “…whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” -John 4:14

When I saw her hand raised I felt the resonance of Heavenly joy echoing in my soul knowing:

“…there is joy in the presence of God’s angels when even one sinner repents.” -Jesus (Luke 15:10)

Gospel work is labor and we don’t always see the outcomes of the sowing but sometimes we do.

 John‬ ‭4‬:‭35‬-‭38‬ ‭

“Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.””

The response from this young woman was in part the result of the faithful work of many gospel workers in the fields. 

I met her while she was staying at the Union Gospel Mission’s Crisis Shelter for Women and Children. 

It was a step for her to the next step of getting out of a cycle of homelessness. 

She’s now in a home and working and…coming to Church.

 When we first met her she was not ready to respond to Christ. 

Sunday she was open for Him to work within her.

  Ministries like UGM are simply places where activated Christians are serving the city. 

Churches send out their members to do the work of God. 

Our Sunday services equip the people of God to do the works He’s called them to do.

 Together we are digging wells, but only Jesus opens the streams of living water that feed the wells.

 “There the Israelites sang this song: 

“Spring up, O well! Yes, sing its praises! Sing of this well, which princes dug, which great leaders hollowed out with their scepters and staffs,” -‭‭Numbers‬ ‭21‬:‭17‬-‭18

‬Pray that the Lord will create a well of living water within her and by His Spirit enable her to drink of that life giving spring welling up to eternity."

Pastor Eric. 

 

A Gentle Reconciliation 

 "I saw her serving as I approached the salad bar apprehensively. Our interactions over the last months have been few, but tense. 

Mainly because the first time we talked one-on-one, she put me on trial for the sins of the patriarchy and the misogyny of her experiences as a woman in the church and life.

 It was a troubling peek into a soul that had suffered hurt and she seemed bent on taking that out on any man that triggered her.

 I’m a fairly easy target as one of the handful of men at a crisis shelter for women and children. 

“Why are you here?” is a legitimate question I have to answer. 

I try to walk softly and serve gently as I build trust through the consistency of being a kind presence at Union Gospel Mission shelters.

 At times those intentions take a while to convince some women, and others just keep their distance. Others throw the punch first anticipating a fight and they figure it’s better to come out swinging then get sucker punched by another man. 

I’ve got plenty of scars and bruises from years of pastoring in this reality of cultural brokenness. I try to stay focused and trust the Lord for whatever is needed to find a way to friendlier ground.

 Sometimes this happens. 

As I approached her and asked for the various items for my salad, she paused and looked at me and said: 

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you the last time I saw you…I have issues.”

I was a bit stunned at her conciliatory words and demeanor. I accepted her kind apology and said, I understood, and joked “we all have issues” as I moved down the salad bar.

 After chapel she paused as she was walking out and said: “Thank you, what you said was helpful to me.”

I’ve been simmering in the soft glow of reconciliation, grateful for small steps of meaningful bridge building. 

It’s not always easy, but these moments are encouraging. 

Thank you for the prayers ever offered, they sustain and support the work of love." 

Pastor Eric Blauer. 

 

 

 

At our service at the Union Gospel Mission, I met a young man whose face I didn't recognize.

It was his first day at the mission and I haven't seen a more needy, despondent looking guy.

He was early twenties I'd guess, very thin, faced sunburned, hair greasy and unkempt.

He sat slouched in a way that made me think he was trying to be invisible. In short, he looked scared, lonely and defeated.

I greeted him when I came in, and sat down beside him when I finished preaching.

We talked for a few minutes and I asked if I could pray for him. When I finished praying, I reached to give him a hug and he just collapsed into me, burying his head in my chest.

A more pathetic and needy young man I've never seen.

The love for him just gushed within me, and I woke up haunted by him, wishing I could help him adjust to the crazy world of mission life; where there is so much clamor, everyone is busy about themselves and a timid guy like him can often just get lost in the cracks and wash out.

I prayed he wouldn't, but I feared he would.

Update - He's adjusting and seems to be doing well!

 Lament For Vengeance

Lyssa reborn,

daughter of the mother of Furies

from the blood of the neutered god,

you rage on your Kithara

and hope is heard

on these Elysian Fields.

Wrath whispers

behind sacred words given to heal,

oracles of madness,

your vengeance a fiery muse.

Smoldering beauty,

whose brutality bites and bruise,

a lamenting bard

holding our judgment’s noose.

Wounded souls,

washed bloody in song,

tears given as humble offerings

as you baptize the searching daughters of Nix.

A shadow of victory standing

over shattered teeth and bone,

gathering praise and supplication,

from the hopes and nightmares

of those without a home.

Eric Blauer, 9/19/23

A reflection on an encounter with a very broken women trying to heal. So many tragic stories behind people’s words and actions. I pray to the only God who can bring light out of darkness, hope out of Hell and a new life of forgetfulness granted by the peace that only forgiveness can truly bring.

 

 

My visitations by the Queens of the Sheba

 "Doing what I do for Christ alone is one of the most difficult things I have had to navigate in my own mind, heart and soul as a pastor, writer, poet and artist. It’s not something early on that I was aware of as a central truth in forming a healthy inner life as a creator, maker and teller of meaningful things. 

I suppose many of these matters are at the heart of the desert temptations of Jesus, him combatting the drives that seem to be at the center of our human motivations in this world. Even writing about it seems to be tainted with the desire to be known, consoled and heard. But I only know of the temptations of Jesus, because the Spirit wanted someone to write them down and they only knew them because at some point around a lakeside fire probably, Jesus shared them. 

We are created in the image of God and that image means we make and share good things with those we love and want to walk together with in some manner. Crafting a gift of some type to give to others for their benefit is woven into our very being. Generosity and hospitality are at the center of healthy living.

I often struggle with the silence of gifts received. It’s rare to hear much response to the things I fashion with great labor. So much of the outer branches with their varying sizes of fruit are the products of countless hours of inner conception. One carries the gifts of God in the womb of thought, feeling, wound and wonder, prayer and revelation, suffering and glory. What comes out of us is always a part of us in some deep and mysterious way. We are all flesh and blood, food and drink in infinitesimal ways. All are mothers giving milk from the breast of our souls. Our life for others life, small acts that mirror the Father of all, who is the source of all. 

Sometimes we are granted moments that give back a measure of grace that is expressed in genuine gratitude. Some of those gifts are in words and some are actions. 

On Sunday, I received two such gifts. 

One came from a woman who I have had the privilege of getting to know through the shelters of Union Gospel Mission. She showed up on Sunday after taking the bus from the Northside of Spokane. Not a short commute, one that on Sundays is extra long. She has recently left the program, entered a sober living house and I was pretty sure that I wouldn't see her again. The challenges of work, new living arrangements, after program duties, difficulties and distractions often pull people away. But there she was, smiling and affirming that she wanted to be there and chose to come on her own initiative. 

It was a sacrifice, one that I was deeply moved by. 

The other gift came from a little girl who came for the first time on Sunday. After the service she came up to the pulpit by herself and asked if she could tell me something. I bent down to listen to her and she told me that she thought I was “a good pastor…who had light in my eyes.” She said it with such confidence and with a countenance of a little angel. I was taken back by her courage and clarity of communication. I don't have many people come up after a service and share that often, so this was particularly meaningful, and I was moved deeply by her gift.  

I am reminded of the words of Jesus:

“The Queen of the South will rise up with the men of this generation at the judgment and condemn them, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and behold, something greater than Solomon is here.” -Jesus (Luke 11:31)

I was visited by two queens on Sunday and the distance they traveled both in body and heart were profoundly generous to me. I was humbled and healed and today I am grateful to the Lord for His encouragements." 

Pastor Eric Blauer. 

 Dante getting salty about preachers in his day. 

“‘Down there, when you philosophize, you fail to follow one true path, so does the love of show preoccupy your mind and carry you away, ‘and even this is tolerated here with less wrath than when holy Scripture is neglected or its doctrines are mistaught. 

‘There is no thought among you of the blood it costs to sow the world with it, or how acceptable he is who humbly makes his way to it. ‘Each strives to gain attention by inventing new ideas, expounded by the preachers at some length—but the Gospel remains silent…”

“‘Christ did not say to His first congregation: “Go preach idle nonsense to the world,” but gave to them a sound foundation. ‘And that alone resounded from their lips, so that, in their warfare to ignite the faith, they used the Gospel as their shield and lance. 

‘Now preachers ply their trade with buffoonery and jokes, their cowls inflating if they get a laugh and the people ask for nothing more.”

— Paradiso XXIX by Dante

 

 "Elijah was giving God a rundown of his feelings.

The emotions were big.

He gets just about as real as it gets:

"I've had enough. I want to die!"

(We love our drama)

"I'm the only real Believer left."

(We love our self righteousness)

"Look at what I did!"

(We love our accreditations)

"There's nobody I can trust!"

(We love our alienation)

"I feel like nobody cares if I die!"

(We love our loneliness)

"There are people who hate me!"

(We love our fears)

Does any of that sound familiar?

Granted, Elijah was undeniably between a rock and a hard place.

God seems to do some good work in those places, doesn't He?

While giving up was what seemed

to be his only option, God simply will

not have it.

Not in Elijah and not in me."

Ann Stewart Porter.

The following quote is about the Holy Spirit and how He gives us words to speak and deep insights into others. 

“There is no human being to whom we look with so true a faith, as to him who shows himself deep-read in the mysteries within us; 

who seems to have dwelt where Omniscience only had access, 

who put into words weaknesses 

which we had hardly dared to confess in thought; 

who appears to have trembled with our own anxieties, and wept our very tears.

 This initiation into the interior nature is the quality which, above all others, gives one mind heavenly influence over another, and only comes from the Holy Spirit. 

If it comes upon us from someone, with the living tones of a friendly voice, we listen as to the breathings of inspiration; 

That a being, perhaps, distant and unknown, should have so penetrated our subtlest emotions, 

and caught our most transient attitudes of thought, should have so detected the excuses we give to our conscience, 

and witnessed the miseries of our temptations, 

and known the sacredness of our affections, 

that we appear revealed anew even to ourselves, truly reveals the heart of God and His power to save. 

 It is a triumph peculiar to those who Christ has taught to love the sympathies of their kind, and because they love them, instinctively appreciate and understand them. 

It is essentially the triumph which Christ won when the minions of tyranny and hypocrisy shrunk back from him in awe, saying, 

'Never a man spake like this man.' 

 

“For my sword shall be bathed in heaven.” Is. 34:5

“We cannot live in a tumultuous world of inner rage and nurse a root of bitterness against our enemies and consider our sword bathed in heaven. 

Our weapons must be spiritual, 

not lending themselves to hostile, 

spiteful, 

venomous thrusts at our adversary: 

These weapons will hinder and delay the cause of righteousness.

The sword of righteous indignation must be, “bathed in heaven.”

“If our enemy pollutes our society, infringes on our freedoms or defames our religion, we must still, love our enemies, pray for our enemies, and confront always as Christ taught us of himself, “learn of me for I am gentle and humble at heart”. If we fight evil with evil, sin with sin, we are not using the 

“Sword bathed in heaven.” 

 

I met with the supervisor of the men at Union Gospel Mission today.

We were joined by one of the men in the program that asked if I could be his mentor.  So the three of us went out to lunch to talk.

The Holy Spirit opened the hearts, and the conversations we had, and the meeting went so well.

When lunch was over, we walked back to the mission having set up a time for the next meeting between just the two of us. We all shook hands and hugged as we said our goodbyes.

I began walking back to my car when a man, who looked like a dock worker, short in stature, probably late fifties, missing every other tooth, smiled and said to me, “I’d like a hug too!” I smiled back and said sure. So the two of us, complete strangers, gave each other a hug.

He said, “That felt good!”

Now I’m not usually a huggie kind of guy, but that hug did feel good! I agreed with him, we both smiled and went our separate ways.

When I got back to my car I wondered about how warm and heartfelt that hug felt; and I couldn’t help but wonder if I just hugged an Angel unaware?

Jesus always, and I do mean always, floods me with His presence when I do anything, no matter how small, with the hurting in crisis. 

His approach to me was so unusual that it left me wondering. As I was driving home, I second guessed myself and thought, maybe I should have engaged him in conversation? But as I was walking away from him, I turned the corner and there was a young woman, probably late twenties? And she was in an alcove with her face right up towards the wall. She was talking a mile a minute and at first I thought she was on a phone but her body language was like she was tweeking, and the alcove had such a strong smell of urine I knew no one would normally stand there. The walls were painted black, symbolic of the moment. I parked right where she was, and I sat there considering what, if anything I could do. 

Experience has taught me approaching a woman in circumstances like that rarely have a good outcome. So I sat there for a minute, feeling impotent; then I drove off, heart longing to help but.......

 

"We don't mean to completely sever men from others in the church or organization in the area of well doing, for we have said there are many good deeds which can only be accomplished by numbers. 

But generally speaking, we can do the most good by individual action, and our own virtue is incomparably more improved by it. It is vastly better that we should give our own money with our hands, from our own judgment, and through personal interest in the distresses of others, than that we should send it by a substitute like a church. Second-hand charity is not as good to the giver or receiver as immediate personal help. 

When we are personally involved we will almost certainly put forth more of our intellect and heart, more of sympathy and strenuous purpose, and shall awaken more of virtuous sensibility in those whom we relieve, than if we were to be a part of a multitude in accomplishing the same end. 

One good action, springing from our own minds, performed from a principle within, performed without the excitement of an urging and approving voice from abroad, is worth more than hundreds which grow from mechanical imitation, or from the heat and impulse which a group or persuasive speaker can give us.  

 

 This is a recent photo from the streets of Spokane Washington.  

What a nightmare! We watch our country, ravaged by drugs and alcohol, descend and implode. What can be done? 

I often hear Christians say, "You can't help people in addiction until they are ready to help themselves." Or, "You are wasting your time until they want to stop." 

But Jesus didn't take that approach, rather, He said, 

 "You have heard others say, be patient, we have four more months to wait before the crops are ready for harvest. But I say, take a closer look and you will see that the fields are ripe and ready for the harvest."

For a Christian to sit and watch the gates of hell pour into our streets and say, 'Be patient, we can do nothing, it's too early, the harvest isn't attainable yet.' That contradicts every thing Jesus did and the Apostles after him, that went to barbaric countries, tribes and cultures where even greater evils than we face, dominated. 

We can all pray, and some of us can spark hope that change can happen by simple acts of kindness. Another may help spark hope by sitting with them and praying for them; another may share a timely word from scripture; another may help strengthen their resolve; and other guide and teach the way to overcome; another to help point out triggers to prevent relapse; another to support inner city missions. 

We can all do something, but to do nothing is not the way of Christ's kingdom. 

 

 

“Take a careful look at my servant, my chosen one. 

I love him dearly and I find all my delight in him. 

I will breathe my Spirit upon him and he will decree justice to the nations. 

He will not quarrel or raise his voice in public. 

He won’t brush aside the bruised and broken. 

He will be gentle with the weak and feeble, 

until his victory releases justice. 

And the fame of his name will birth hope among the people.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭12‬:‭18‬-‭21‬ ‭

This passage describes the ministry of Jesus, and the ministry we are to continue. 

  

 "One of the wonders I witness in the work of God’s Holy Spirit, is the call to adventure that is awakened in those where He is moving. 

I see and hear it in word and song. Every note, lyric and verse is a key unlocking a door to some new possibility. 

Every prayer, touch and tear an opening to becoming someone we’ve never fully knew we were meant to be, or doing something we didn’t imagine we would do. 

It’s a daring act to open any door, talk or listen to a stranger or sing a song that calls upon the Divine. 

Adventures unfold in unexpected places, moments and faces. In the realm of God a mere confession, plea, loving intercession, an embrace or holding the hand of one trembling in the awakening of spiritual Light and Life, is a step into the wild and unknown journey God is calling us to begin. 

These adventures can unravel our seemingly neat and tidy lives or bound and broken souls. Whatever our habitations may be, we all can discover we’ve become too comfortable and are in danger of attracting wandering wizards with unexpected invitations. 

“Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.” (John 4:10)

“If you only knew…”

What a line. 

One sip of living water and everything is about to change. 

It’s a dangerous thing stepping outside the door of your normal routine. God is on the move and he’s searching for someone whose “apparently settled down immovably” but is actually a perfect choice for an unexpected journey. 

You’ve been warned." 

Pastor Eric. 

 Some feelings have no words, they are too deep to fully disclose. 

The moving of the Holy Spirit among the poor and downcast, touching us with their pain, falling on us, within us, defies explanation, but it creates a throbbing hunger and thirst to be more like Jesus. 

Simple deeds, the very briefest encounters, can be so meaningful, they leave an indelible mark. To see all my sons working with the downcast, the maimed, the heartsick and oppressed, leaves me with a heart filled with unspeakable praise.                                                                                                               

Rick Warren's wife Kay defined this captivity of the soul this way, she called it a - 

"Dangerous Surrender, where we are gloriously ruined and seriously disturbed." 

 

 

Preaching with Power

The following is to aspiring preachers whose word, like their Master’s, shall be “with power.” 

Power, energy, efficiency, that is the endowment to be communicated showing great care, attention, and effort by the ministers of Christ’s church.   

By the power of which I have spoken, I mean that strong action of the understanding, conscience, and heart on moral and religious truth, through which the preacher is quickened and qualified to awaken the same strong action in others.

 I mean energy of thought and feeling in the minister, creating for itself an appropriate expression, and propagating itself to the hearer and able to arrest attention, rouse emotion, and give a new spring to the soul. 

Knowledge when accumulated, as it often is, 

with no strong action of the intellect, 

no vividness of conception, 

no depth of conviction, 

no force of feeling, 

is of little or no worth to the preacher. 

We want force of thought and feeling, and purpose. What profits it to arm the pupil with weapons of heavenly temper, unless his hands be nerved to wield them with vigor and success? 

The word of God is indeed “quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword:” but when committed to him who has no kindred energy, it does not and cannot penetrate the mind.  

We want powerful ministers, not graceful declaimers, not elegant essayists, but men fitted to act on men, to make themselves felt in society.

 I mean power to act on intelligent and free beings, by means proportioned to their nature. 

I mean power to call into healthy exertion the intellect, conscience, affections, and moral will of the hearer. 

The loose conceptions of Christianity which prevail among the high as well as the low, do not deserve the name of “knowledge.” 

The loftiest minds among us seldom put forth their strength on the very subject for which intelligence was especially given. 

A great revolution is needed here. 

The human intellect is to be brought to act on religion with new power. It ought to prosecute this inquiry with an intenseness with which no other subject is investigated. 

And does it require no energy in the teacher to awaken this power and earnestness of thought in others, to bring religion before the intellect as its worthiest object, to raise men’s traditional, lifeless, superficial faith into deliberate profound conviction?

And is energy not needed to break through the barriers of pride and self-love, and to place the individual before a tribunal in his own breast as solemn and searching as that which awaits him at the last day?  

The preachers in Christ’s church are to give Spirit led vitality to the thought of God in the human mind; to make His presence felt; to make Him a reality, and the most powerful reality to the soul. 

Is it easy, in a world of matter and sense? 

amidst crowds of impressions rushing in from abroad, amidst the constant and visible agency of second causes, 

amidst the anxieties, 

toils, 

pleasures, 

dissipations, 

and competitions of life, 

in the stir and bustle of society, and in an age when luxury wars with spirituality, and the development of nature’s resources are turning men’s trust from the Creator, -- is it easy, amidst these gross interests and detracting influences, to raise men’s minds to the invisible Divinity? to fix impressions of God deeper and more enduring than those which are received from all other beings, to make Him the supreme object, spring, and motive of the soul? 

It is the minister’s duty to inculcate a piety characterized by wisdom as much as by warmth;  

The minister is to teach an earnest but enlightened religion:” a piety which, far from wasting or eradicating, will protect, nourish, freshen the mind’s various affections and powers; 

which will add force to reason, as well as ardor to the heart; which will at once bind us to God, and cement and multiply our ties to our families, our country, and mankind; which will heighten the relish of life’s pleasures, whilst it kindles an unquenchable thirst for a purer happiness in the life to come. 

Religion does not mutilate our nature. It does not lay waste our human interest and affections, that it may erect for God a throne amidst cheerless, and solitary ruins, but widens the range of thoughts, feeling, and enjoyment. 

But it is the minister’s duty to rouse men to self-conflict. To warfare with the evil in their own hearts. This is in truth the supreme evil. The sorest calamities of life – sickness, poverty, scorn, dungeons and death – form a less amount of desolation and suffering than is included in that one word, sin. 

In revolt from God, in disloyalty to conscience, in the tyranny of passions, in thralldom of the soul’s noblest powers. 

To redeem men from sin was Christ’s great end. 

To pierce them with a new consciousness of sin, so that they shall groan under it and strive against it, and through prayer and watching, master it: this is an essential part of the minister’s work. 

Let him not satisfy himself with awakening by his eloquence occasional emotions of gratitude or sympathy. He must rouse the soul to solemn, stern resolve against its own deep and cherished corruptions, or he only makes a show of assault, and leaves the foe intrenched and unbroken within. 

We see then, the arduousness of the minister’s work. He is called to war with might of the human passions, with the whole power of moral evil. He is to enlist men, not for a crusade, nor for extermination of heretics, but to fight a harder battle within, to expel sin in all its forms and especially their besetting sins, from the strongholds of the heart. 

I know no task so arduous, none which demands equal power.

And finally, with this purifying purpose of duty, pray for the Holy Spirit and you will receive it. A secret influence will aid your efforts after oneness with God. 

I believe too, that you may be favored with those blessed seasons of universal light and strength, of which good men have often spoken, in which the mind seems warmed by a new flame and quickened by a new energy from on high, and which, though not miraculous, will bring a near consciousness of Christ and bring the very breath of God upon your soul.” 

William Ellery Channing.