Flying Embers

2011-12-11T15:21:00.000-08:00

Casabianca

(Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son of the Admiral of the Orient, remained at his post (in the battle of the Nile) after the ship had taken fire and all the guns had been abandoned, and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder.)

The boy stood on the burning deck,

Whence all but him had fled;

The flame that lit the battle’s wreck

Shone round him o’er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood,

As born to rule the storm;

A creature of heroic blood,

A proud though childlike form.

The flames rolled on; he would not go

Without his father’s word;

That father, faint in death below,

His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud, “Say, father, say,

If yet my task be done?”

He knew not that the chieftain lay

Unconscious of his son.

“Speak, father!” once again he cried,

“If I may yet be gone!”

And but the booming shots replied,

And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,

And in his waving hair,

And looked from that lone post of death

In still yet brave despair;

And shouted but once more aloud,

“My father! Must I stay!”

While o’ver him fast, through sail and shroud,

The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the ship in splendor wild,

They caught the flag on high,

And streamed above the gallant child,

Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound;

The boy – oh! Where was he?

Ask of the winds, that far around

With fragments strewed the sea ---

With shroud and mast and pennon fair,

That well had borne their part ---

But the noblest thing that perished there

Was that young faithful heart.

Felicia Hemans.

Faithfulness, it is of all the virtues to be sought, I'm sure that is why Jesus said, "Go and learn what this means..........faithfulness......."

2011-11-26T10:10:00.000-08:00

Whenever I see Harriet Beecher Stowe is the author of a piece, I read it eagerly. Her book ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ was a mighty tool to help bring an end to slavery and her insights are so sharp, my admiration wells up whenever I read her words.

Now this piece on sorrow is penned when the horrors of slavery and the sorrow it brought, and still brings, caused her world to spin. She entered that world of sorrow and did battle there. Better for all the world she was in that “house of mourning”, and though principalities and powers had the world in the throes of evil, and she suffered much in battling those powers, she was used mightily by the “Infinite Sovereign”.

The battle rages on today with child trafficking, extreme poverty, substance abuse and oppression of every kind.

The good soldier called for these battle fields will doubtless find sorrow an important ingredient for preparation.

Sorrow

Sorrow is the great birth-agony of immortal powers, sorrow is the great searcher and revealer of hearts, the great test of truth; for Plato has wisely said, sorrow will not endure sophisms, -- all shams and unrealities melt in the fire of that awful furnace.

Sorrow reveals forces in ourselves we never dreamed of. * * * Behind every scale in music, the gayest and cheeriest, the grandest, the most triumphant, lies its dark relative minor; the notes are the same, but the change of a semitone changes all to gloom; -- all our gayest hours are tunes that have a modulation into these dreary keys ever possible; at any moment the key-note may be struck.

And yet sorrow is godlike, sorrow is grand and great, sorrow is wise and far-seeing. Our own instinctive valuations, woven into the laws of nature, show us that it is with no slavish dread, no cowardly shrinking we should approach her divine mysteries. What are the natures that cannot suffer? Who values them?

From the fat oyster, over which the silver tide rises and falls without one pulse upon its fleshy ear, to the hero who stands with quivering nerve parting with wife and child and home for country and God, all the way up is an ascending scale, marked by an increasing power to suffer; and when we look to the head of all being, up through principalities and powers and princedoms, with dazzling orders and celestial blazonry, to behold by what emblem the Infinite Sovereign chooses to reveal Himself, we behold in the midst of the throne, “a lamb as it had been slain.” Sorrow is divine. Sorrow is reigning on all the thrones of the universe, and the crown of all crowns has been one of thorns. There have been many books that treat of the mystery of sorrow, but only one that bids us glory in tribulation, and count it all joy when we fall into diverse afflictions, that so we may be associated with that great fellowship of suffering of which the Incarnate God is the head, and through which He is carrying a redemptive conflict to a glorious victory over evil. If we suffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him. Even in the very making up of our physical nature, God puts suggestions of such a result.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’ There are victorious powers in our nature which are all the while working for us in our deepest pain. It is said that, after the sufferings of the rack, there ensues a period in which the simple repose from torture produces a beatific trance; it is the reaction of Nature, asserting the benignant intentions of her Creator. So, after great mental conflicts and agonies must come a reaction, and the Divine Spirit, co-working with our spirit, seizes the favorable moment, and interpenetrating natural laws with a celestial vitality, carries up the soul to joys beyond the ordinary possibilities of mortality. * * * * It is said that gardeners, sometimes, when they would bring a rose to richer flowering, deprive it, for a season, of light and moisture. Silent and dark it stands, dropping one fading leaf after another, and seeming to go down patiently to death. But when every leaf is dropped, and the plant stands stripped to the uttermost, a new life is even then working in the buds, from which shall spring a tender foliage and a brighter wealth of flowers.

So, often in celestial gardening, every leaf of earthly joy must drop, before a new and divine bloom visits the soul.

Harriet Beecher Stowe, photo by Bader Al Obaidly

Still water - clear skies

2011-11-26T09:07:00.000-08:00

He that attends to his interior self, --

That has a heart, and keeps it, --- has a mind

That hungers, and supplies it, -- and who seeks

A social, not dissipated life, --

Has business; feels himself engaged to achieve

No unimportant, though a silent task,

A life all turbulence and noise may seem,

To him that leads it, wise and to be praised;

But wisdom is a pearl with most success

Sought in still water, and beneath clear skies.

William Cowper, photo by Sally Mann

2011-08-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

"Not to be unhappy is unhappyness,

And misery to t'have known miserie;

For the best way unto discretion is

The way that leads us by adversitie;

And men are better shew'd what is amisse,

By th'expert finger of calamitie,

Than they can be with all that fortune brings,

Who never shewes them the true face of things."

It is natural to wish for the best of things for our children;

and we find ourselves hoping they will not struggle.

But as I have watched my children and grandchildren grow,

I see the truth in the above quote. Wish it were not so, but

depth of character and learning oneself, can not come in shelter.

Quote by Daniel, photo by John Fisher

2011-08-13T13:22:00.000-07:00

The following quote is from a poem by James Whitcomb Riley, a contemporary of Mark Twain and known for his poems in "Hoosier Dialect". In this poem he is describing a man, Doc. Sifers, whom he looks up to above all others and this little piece describes Doc. Sifer's impression after meeting a man of great notoriety and prominence......

"I met a great man onc't," Doc says, "and shuk his hand," says he,

"And he come 'bout in one, I guess, o' disapp'intin' me ---

He talked so common-like, and brought his mind so cle'r in view

and simple-like, I purt nigh thought, 'I'm best man o' the two!"

It's a rare thing to meet someone whom the world gives great applause to and find them humble. In this meeting Doc. Sifers found this man so genuine and humble, and willing to talk and share that he not only felt the man's equal but the man was so humble he left feeling like he was the better man.

I have to admit I have met many men but most I have left feeling as though I were in some sort of contest of wits. But truly great men need not prove anything, their praise comes from others and they became great by learning from everyone they come in contact with.

Photo from the Internet

Character

2011-08-06T10:28:00.000-07:00

I'm reading in my new old book by Samuel Smiles titled "Character". It is rich in illustrations and guidance about character. In the following piece he tells of Edward Freer, a French soldier and the power of his influence. It picks up with a narrative listing the many who died in the battle.

"In so doing it lost many brave men, and of two who fell I will speak.

The first, low in rank, Edward Freer, being but a lieutenant, was rich in honor, for he bore many scars and was young of days. He was only nineteen, and had seen more combats and sieges than he could count years. Slight in person, and of such surpassing and delicate beauty that the Spaniards often thought him a girl disguised in man’s clothing, he was yet so vigorous, so active, so brave, that the most daring and experienced veterans watched his looks on the field of battle, and would obey his slightest sign in the most difficult situations. His education was incomplete, yet were his natural powers so happy the keenest and best-furnished intellects shrunk from an encounter of wit. And all his thoughts and aspirations were proud and noble, indicating future greatness if destiny had so willed it."

I like this illustration of the power of character and Smiles goes on to say that – “Character tells in all conditions of life. The man of good character in a workshop will give the tone to his fellows, and elevate their entire aspirations. Thus Franklin, while a workman in London, is said to have reformed the manners of an entire workshop”.

I have certainly seen this play out over and over at Teen Challenge, where one man who is serious and devout sends ripples across the entire men’s population for good.

The above picture is of a young girl who just recently gained access to an education and is eager to help those who struggle as well.

Photo by Matt Blauer

2011-08-06T08:54:00.000-07:00

"You insist," wrote Perthes to a friend, "on respect for learned men. I say, Amen! But, at the same time don't forget that largeness of mind, depth of thought, appreciation of the lofty, experience of the world, delicacy of manner, tact and energy in action, love of truth, honesty, and amiability ---

that all these may be wanting in a man who may yet be very learned." Samuel Smiles

Be encouraged

2011-06-26T15:21:00.000-07:00

In William Gurnal's book titled "The Christian In Complete Armour" he is talking about King David and his optomistic spirit in spite of all his deficiencies.

"How did David get this holy greatness of spirit as displayed in this scripture -- 'As for me, thou upholdest me in mine integrity, and settest me before thy face for ever.'Ps. 41:12

It is as if he had said, 'Lord, You do not treat me the way my enemies do; if there were only one sinful sore in my life, they would light on it like flies. But you overlook my stumbling feet and pardon my sin. You see my uprightness and hold it up amidst all my many infirmities. You set me before Your face and communicate love and favor to me even when sin is mingled with my obedience.'

The word picture of flies lighting on a sore is so vivid; I remember seeing hundreds of flies swarming on a sore one of our horses had; and isn't it just the way we do when we see the flaws in others. But God overlooks our many infirmities and holds up the good we do though even that is flawed. He is a merciful God.

It reminds me of Matt. 23:23 and Luke 11:42 "you overlook justice, mercy or sometimes rendered compassion, faithfulness, and the love of God". When we worship God exercising these virtues of His spirit he is quick to overlook our weaknes in doing so. Thank God!

Photo from the Internet

Unsociable

2011-06-19T15:12:00.000-07:00

“A man that is out of humor when an unexpected guest breaks in upon him, and does not care for sacrificing an afternoon to any chance comer; that will be master of his own time and pursuer of his own inclinations, makes but a very unsociable figure in this life.” Addison

“Unsociable tempers are contracted in solitude, which will in the end not fail of corrupting the understanding as well as the manners, and of utterly disqualifying a man for the satisfactions and duties of life. Men must be taken as they are, and we neither make them or ourselves better, by flying from or quarreling with them.” Burke

I ran across these two quotes in my book “Gems of Great Authors”. I think they really go hand in hand; when we spend too much time in solitude we can easily become fussy and used to having our own way. So much so, that the simple distraction of an unexpected guest becomes a burden; we want to be the ‘master of our own time and pursuer of our own inclinations’. Often when children come into a family there is a huge adjustment as we learn to sacrifice our time that was once our own and now duty and sacrifice become the norm. I’ve known some that could never make the necessary adjustments. It is a pity because we gain our time but lose the deepest satisfactions life has to offer.

Top photo by Alexander Ch, bottom photo by Gary Ian Young

2011-05-28T10:25:00.000-07:00

The following quote presents some very insightful and useful principles regarding success in whatever arena applied. It is an encouragement to those who may think they don’t have all it takes.

"We see other men, who, with comparatively slender talents, are the instruments of achieving more important results than are effected by men of far greater endowments. They know precisely the extent of their faculties, and never aim at objects beyond their reach. They carefully survey their means of success, and never fix their attention so strongly upon one point as to overlook others equally important. Never struggling obstinately against the stream, they are constantly ready, as the aspect of things changes, to vary their plans or remit their exertions, yet in all their variations they keep one object steadily in view. Preferring to play a small game rather than to stand out, and content with petty advances when a more rapid progress is impossible, they quicken their pace and enlarge their schemes as fortune favors, and, though unnoticed by the world, exert a more important influence over its destinies than many who have filled a larger space in the eye of mankind. "

Two of my sons are engaged in missionary ventures and both would tell you they have developed in ways they never foresaw. They had one object steadily in view but God brought twists and turns never imagined requiring nearly all of the principles above.

Photo I took in Thailand, quote from Getting On In The World by William Mathews, LL.D.

Modesty

2011-05-23T10:51:00.000-07:00

"It has been remarked that the modest deportment of really wise men, when contrasted to the assuming air of the vain and ignorant, may be compared to the difference of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds up its head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with grain bends modestly down and withdraws from observation."

Golden Gems of Life, photo from the internet

Educating ourselves

2011-05-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

“Any and every legitimate means of acquiring information is to be pursued, and all the odds and bits of time pressed into use. Set a high price upon your leisure moments. They are sands of precious gold; properly expended they will procure for you a stock of great thoughts; thoughts that will fill, stir, invigorate, and expand the soul.

We should esteem those moments best improved which are employed in developing our own thoughts, rather than in acquiring those of others, since in this kind of intellectual exercise our powers are best brought into action and disciplined for use. Knowledge acquired by labor becomes a possession: a property entirely our own. A greater vividness of impression is secured, and facts thus acquired become registered in the mind in a way that mere imparted information fails of securing. A habit of reflection and observation is well-nigh everything…….

Be not dismayed at doubts, for remember that doubt is the vestibule through which all must pass before they can enter into the temple of wisdom; therefore, when we are in doubt and puzzle out the truth by our own exertions, we have gained a something which will stay by us and serve us again. But if to avoid the trouble of a search we avail ourselves of the superior information of a friend, such knowledge will not remain with us; we have borrowed it and not bought it.”

I think this applies to our religious beliefs more than any other subject. It is easy to say we believe such and such, when in reality we rarely study out a teaching on our own but rather we “borrow” it from the pulpit, creed or denomination.

The Golden Gems of Life, photo from the Internet.

2011-05-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

“Both poetry and philosophy are prodigal of eulogy (give lavish applause) over the mind which rescues itself, by its own energy, from a captivity to custom, which breaks the common bonds of empire and cuts a Simplon (Napaloeon’s pass over the Alps) over mountains of difficulty for its own purposes, whether of good or of evil. We can not help admire such a character. It is a positive relief to turn from the contemplation of those relying on some one else for a solution of the difficulties that surround them to those who are strong in their own self-reliance, who, when confronted with fresh trials and difficulties, only put on a more determined mien, and more resolutely apply their own powers to remove the obstacle so unexpectedly put in their way. There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit than a vague desire for help, a wish to depend, to lean upon somebody and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others.”

I like this kind of teaching and being fatherless at fourteen I was faced with the two options – depend on myself or depend on others. I didn’t have a large pool of “others” running to my rescue, so by default I learned to depend on myself. I may have taken this too far and maybe I still do; but at 23 when Christ Jesus came courting my heart and offering his help I listened, experimented and gave in to what seemed an irresistible offer. That being said, it has always been of some difficulty to know where we let go and where God takes over. Either choice in its self is not the answer, of that I’m sure. We are made with mastery to work, think, reason, endure and strive, as well as many other abilities; not to use them is shameful. To use them instead of faith in God is futility. I’ll let each person determine the balance.

“It has been said God never intended that strong, independent beings should be reared by clinging to others, like the ivy to the oak, for support. The difficulties, hardships, and trials of life – the obstacles one encounters on the road to fortune, are positive blessings. They knit the muscles more firmly, and teach him self-reliance, just as wrestling with an athlete who is superior to us we increase our own strength and learn the secret of his skill. All difficulties come to us, as Bunyan says of temptation, like the lion which met Sampson, the first time we encounter them they roar and gnash their teeth, but once subdued we find a nest of honey in them. Peril is the very element in which power is developed.”

The Golden Gems of Life by S.C. Ferguson and E.A. Allen, photo by Lemon Bartleboom

Smoking Flax

2011-05-08T16:14:00.000-07:00

I was reading out of F.B. Meyer's book "Christ in Isaiah" and ran across the following piece. I can't think of a more important exhortation than what's contained below as he bares his heart for the marginalized.

"So feebly does love burn in some hearts, that only He who knows all things can know that love is there at all. So fitful, so irregular, so destitute of kindling power. Ah me! Reader, you and I have known hours when not the coals of juniper, but the smoking flax, have been the true emblem of our love.

The superficial worker ignores these in rude haste. He passes them by to seek an object more commensurate with his powers. Give me, he cries, a sphere in which I may influence strong, noble, and heroic souls! Give me an arena where I may meet foe-men worthy of my steel! Give me a task where my stores of knowledge may have adequate scope! And if these fail, he counts himself ill-used. “I will do naught, if I cannot do the best.” Oh, foolish words. The best, the noblest, is to bend with a Divine humility over those whom the world ignores, exercising a holy ingenuity, a sacred inventiveness; making of bruised reeds pipes of music or measuring rods for the New Jerusalem; fanning the spark of the smoking flax until that which had nearly died out in the heart of a Peter, sets on fire three thousand souls within seven weeks of its threatened extinction.

This is also the test of true work. Where does it find thee, fellow-worker? Art thou ambitious for a larger sphere; grudging the pains needed to explain the gospel to the ignorant; to cope with the constant relapses and backslidings of the weak; to combat the fears of the timorous and mistrustful; to adjust the perpetual disputes and quarrellings of new-made disciple; to suit thy pace to the weakest and youngest of the flock? Beware! Thy work is in danger of losing its noblest quality; the hue is passing off the summer fruit; the tender tone which God loves is fading from thy picture; the grace of the day is dying. Before it is too late, get alone with God to learn the noblest souls are sometimes found within bruised bodies, and the greatest work often emanates from the most inconspicuous sparks.”

Photo by Birte Person

a century of sleep

2011-04-03T12:11:00.000-07:00

I was touched by a simple quote the other day,

“Better a day of strife

Than a century of sleep.”

I’m afraid when I assess the entirety of my life there are far two many seasons of sleep. I decided to share this quote at the center when we all meet in the morning to pray. I kept it as short as what I have just written but as I surveyed the men’s faces and listened to the “amen’s”, I knew they got it.

It burns in me to speak words of encouragement and Godly ambition to the men. Whenever I see a quote or read a scripture that calls for action, I write it down and wait for a timely moment to share it. I have been re-reading a book of mine called “Golden Gleams of Thought”, a compilation of great thoughts from Orators, Divines, Philosophers, Statesmen and Poets. It’s a treasure and in the current chapter I’m in there have been so many thoughts that call to action.

The first along this line is ---

“If you would imitate Christ, take sin by the throat and the sinner by the hand.” W.H.H. Murray.

That immediately brought to mind the verse in Job 29:17, where Job declares he crushed the jaws of the wicked, and snatched the prey from his teeth.

Surely that defines the ministry at Teen Challenge where men are clutched in the gaping maw of drug addiction and we call Christ to them where He can snatch them away.

God always provides a core of devoted students and my hope is to rally them together as much as I can to clearly see the battlefield we all stand in. This quote captures some of that thought, ---

“ I will go forth ‘mong men, not mailed in scorn,

But in the armor of a pure intent;

Great duties are before me, and great songs,

And whether crowned or crownless when I fall,

It matters not, so as God’s work is done.” Alexander Smith

Top photo by Monika Brand, bottom photo by Carol Miller

Distressing disquise

2011-04-02T09:53:00.000-07:00

I was preparing for work the other day and my thoughts went to a fella at the center that decided to quit the program. He has been there about a month and I heard him tell the Staff member in charge that he wanted to go back home to Arkansas. The staff member said, “Ok”, and without trying to talk him out of it, began the procedure.

The man that was leaving was a difficult student; he is early forties, has such a strong southern accent he is nearly impossible to understand, he weighs 500 pounds, and has multiple health problems the least of which is the medicine he is currently taking masks his bodies alarms when he needs to go to the bathroom which has resulted in soiling himself and wetting himself a number of times.

If that were not enough, he has a name that in our neck of the woods, would be reserved for a female. Sadly, he has been teased by some about his weight, name and general demeanor.

I made some effort to show myself friendly to him and I have made allowances for his physical limitations and found him work to keep him somewhat busy; but past that I have kept myself busy when he was around. This, of course, is what the Lord began speaking to me about, and impressed upon me how important it is to do better, and anticipate that He will appear in these “distressing disguises”, so apply a greater measure of love and acceptance if I would truly wear the name ‘Christian’.

When our Morning Prayer time arrived, where we all huddle up and ‘pray in the day’, I told the guys how the Lord spoke to me. I began by saying that Christ visits us at the center in many sweet and wonderful ways; sometimes he descends around the altar and brings the hardest heart to tears, sometimes the pulpit shoots a shaft that hits us directly in the heart and greatly moves us. But more often than not, Christ will visit in other ways. This last month He has been with us in a distressing disguise and some of us have recognized Him and served Him with friendship and love; while others of us have never so much as been aware he was present. Those who saw Him standing in our prayer huddle with His dirty yellow shirt that exposed the bottom of his belly, talking in a way that is nearly impossible to understand and bearing the silliest name, have truly served the living God. As for me, Christ told me in the clearest terms, “You must do better.”

Photo by Teresa Zafon

Enchantment

2011-03-12T11:37:00.000-08:00

The sails we see on the ocean

are as white as white can be;

but never one in the harbor,

as white as the sails at sea.

And the clouds that crown the mountain

with purple and gold delight,

turn to cold gray mist and vapor,

Ere ever we reach the height.

Oh! distance, thou dear enchanter,

still hold in they magic veil

the glory of far-off sail!

Hide in thy robes of splendor,

Oh! mountain cold and gray!

Oh! sail in thy snowy whiteness,

come not into port, I pray!

I like this poem, which brings to mind the joy of anticipation, but often when realized, the romance loses its luster. I wonder how long one must live before we come to realize this and learn to live in the moment and enjoy life's enchantments but keep our feet firmly planted on present ground.

Anonymous, Photo by Gerhard Fuhs

2011-03-10T18:38:00.000-08:00

" Aristippus, the philosopher, seeing Diogenes washing of herbs for his dinner, said, If Diogenes knew how to make use of kings, he need not live upon raw herbs, as he doth; to which Diogenes replied, that if Aristippus could content himself with herbs, he need not to turn spaniel, or to flatter king Dionysius for a meat meal."

I found this little gem in Thomas Brooks book, 'Apples of Gold' in a chapter on flattery. Diogenes was a third century sage, known for his vow of poverty. He was known to carry a lamp during the day saying he was looking for an honest man. This particular quote tickled me -- calling Aristippus a begging dog with such sophistication, - "turn spaniel". Love it.

Punctuality

2011-03-05T15:52:00.000-08:00

This is another piece from my new book Youth And Its Duties. This is on learning punctuality.

"When Washington appointed the hour of twelve to meet Congress, he never failed to be passing the door of the hall while the clock was striking twelve. His dinner hour was four o'clock.

If his guests were not there at the time, he never waited for them. New members of Congress, who were invited to dine with him, would frequently come in when dinner was half over; and he would say to them, "Gentlemen, we are punctual here. My cook never asks whether the company has arrived, but whether the hour has."

In 1799, when on a visit to Boston, he appointed eight o'clock in the morning as the hour when he would set out for Salem. While the Old South Clock was striking eight, he was mounting his horse. The company of cavalry who had volunteered to escort him, was parading in Tremont Street, and did not overtake him till he had reached Charles River Bridge. On their arrival, the General said, "Major, I thought you had been too long in my family not to know when it was eight O'clock".

Picture from the internet

The Fidgets

2011-03-05T15:19:00.000-08:00

I picked up this book at an Antique Sale a few months ago titled, Youth and its Duties.

It has many practical things to help parents in child rearing. It's about a hundred years old but the principles are good in my estimation if you don't obsess over them. This piece is about combating the fidgets ---

"Discipline the body to obey the will. You would not think to see some young folks, that the will had any thing to do with the movements of the body; for it moves in all imaginable ways, with all sorts of contortions. First flies out a foot, then a hand, then there's a twirl or a swing, then a drumming of the fingers, a trotting of the foot, or some such odd figure. This arises from leaving the body to control itself, by its own natural activity, the mind taking no supervision of its motions. Now, if you early accustom yourself to exercise a strict mental supervision over the body, so as never to make any movement whatever, except what you mean to make, you will find this habit of great consequence to you; for, besides saving you the mortification of a thousand ungraceful movements which habit has rendered natural, it will enable you to control your nerves, the necessity for which you will understand better hereafter than you do now. Make the will the ruling power of your body, so as to never do any thing but what you mean to do and you will never get a reputation of being nervous."

Now to tell you how relevant this is in a center where nearly half of the guys have used amphetamines, words fail to express. Suffice to say, if they happen to have a pen in their hands, it will soon be reduced to a pile of plastic and springs with there continual CLICKING!

Photo from the Internet

2011-02-26T10:29:00.000-08:00

“A true Christian will readily grant that his God is a good God, and that Jesus Christ is the chiefest of ten thousand, and that the gospel is a glorious gospel, and that the promises are precious promises, and that the ordinances are blessed ordinances, and that the lively communion of saints is the sweetest communion in all the world. But yet he will also say, I have such a proud heart, such a hard heart, such a slight heart, such a carnal heart etc., and I am so vexed and molested with sinful notions, and with sinful imaginations, and with sinful inclinations, and with atheistical risings, and with private murmurings, and with secret unbelieving, and that in despite of all my conflictings, and strivings, and prayings, and mournings, and sighings, and groanings, and complaining, that I am oftentimes even weary of my life. And if this does not speak out of Christ within, and grace within, and the Spirit within such a soul, I know of nothing that does. O friends! Remember this once and for all, viz., that the main battle, the main warfare of a Christian lies not in the open field, it lies not in the visible skirmishes; but his main quarrels and conflicts are most within, and his worst and greatest enemies are of his own house, they are them of his own heart.

A little grace at fist conversion may reform an ill life, but it must be a great deal of grace that must reform an ill heart. A little grace may make a man victorious over outward gross sins, but it must be a great deal of grace that must make a man victorious over inward sins, secret sins, spiritual sins, heart sins, yea, a thorough conquest of these sins will hold a man in play all the days of his life.”

Thomas Brooks, photo by Stephane Le Gal

2011-02-21T20:13:00.000-08:00

I returned from Thailand on Sunday and after a wonderful visit with my son, daughter-in-law and two wonderful grandchildren, I began thinking about memorable moments during the trip.

I took this photo in a remote Hmong hill tribe village. This woman was weaving on what seemed like an ancient implement. During the flight over I had read from Timothy Titcomb and he included the following quote -- "Get thy spindle and thy distaff ready, and God will send thee flax." After looking up "distaff" which is simply a staff where the flax, wool, cotton etc. is put on waiting to be spun; I began ruminating on the applications for the quote. My mind during this time of my life seems to run first to the Teen Challenge Center and the men there. This is a time in most of the men's life when they have no flax, in fact they have in many cases lost all: worldly goods, faith, hope and often even a bed to sleep on. But we serve a God of might and miracles and he bids us to prepare; get out the spindle and distaff, open the Bible, attend with anticipation the services and see if God will not bring thee flax! May I always be greedy to see God fill the distaffs with flax overflowing! Grown, hardened, abandoned, often hated and rejected men, brought to humility, to a place of brokenness where God's resources are brought to be woven into useful materials. Homes to be restored, restitution to be made, character to be built, and hope in God to abound.

I watched this woman's hands and feet busy at the spindle; may I do the same.

2011-01-08T09:19:00.000-08:00

I hate to admit it, but the older I get the less tolerance I have for people's pets. I know, it's hardly Christian to not be a pet lover, but I seem to focus in more on their bad little habits and shedding hairs than I do on their companionship. It may well be that because I'm in a time in my life when I can hardly keep up with all of life's demands that I just can't bear one more responsibility. That all being said ---- when I see a picture like this one it nearly brings me to tears; the photo's titled, "Saying Good by". The photo captures the years of faithful companionship the two have enjoyed. I'll just stop because the photo says it all..........

Photo by Juan De Santa Anna

Simple Goodness

2011-01-08T09:09:00.000-08:00

"After all, there are few ways in which most of us can do better service for Christ in this world than just by being good. Cleverness shines more brightly in society, eloquence makes itself heard more widely, wealth makes a greater show and gets itself talked about by more people, alms-giving is more praised of men; but plain, simple goodness is apt to have as bright a crown and as high a place in heaven as either of her more showy sisters."

I chose this picture because I see more plain and simple goodness displayed by older siblings than just about anywhere else. Here, older sister prepares the food for her brother; a brother who will no doubt revere and love his sister above all.

Quote from "St. Christopher", photo by Yasir Mattoo

2011-01-01T15:32:00.000-08:00

The following is a testimony of one of the guys at the center---

Psalm 139:8 ends by saying "If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there." That is one scripture that my life has put to the test too many times to count. The curtain rose on the stage of my life in December of 84', and what began was destined to be an unpredictable romantic comedic musical tragedy.

For as far back as I can remember, abuse had always played a major role in my life. I was six-months old when physical abuse became a common occurrence for me, shortly after; emotional and verbal abuse became daily rituals that were never skipped. By the time I came to know sexual abuse at the age of nine by a schoolmate, I was completely resigned to the fact that my role in life was to serve as a whipping post for anyone who saw fit. By the age of twelve I was convinced that I would undoubtedly go to hell, I didn't believe there was anything redeemable about a boy who had tried killing himself at the age of six.

My mind and soul were scarred with feelings of worthlessness and self-hate. As if the plot wasn't complicated enough, my same-sex struggle rushed to center stage with the arrival of Junior High. Junior Hell as I like to call it, was the time in which I really began to address the fact that I wanted a leading man in my life...not a leading lady. Now if growing up in a spiritually abusive church had taught me nothing at all, it had at least taught me that being gay was so wrong it couldn't even be talked about. So I stayed silent and began to pray God would take away my homosexual desires.

At age 14 I began researching homosexuality, what it was, what it looked liked, and how I could "conquer it." I had always been a high-spirited tenacious fighter, and this was one battle I wasn't going to surrender in. Little did I know that the most wounded part of my life would prove to be my emotionality, not my sexuality...I truly believed I was unlovable. In between the time High school ended and College began I had raised the white flag of surrender and whole-heartedly embraced the gay identity I had tried so hard to escape. This decision immediately began to devastate every part of my life. When I shared with my Pastor what I was dealing with, he decided to give me three days to change my mind or he would have to expose my sin to the church congregation from the pulpit. Wanting to save my family the embarrassment of public humiliation, I decided to leave the church behind and pursue as healthy a life as possible.

What began to unfold in my life was anything but healthy. I began a lifestyle that selfishly catered to every desire, and every hurt. I quickly fell into a pattern of inappropriate sexual encounters spurned on by a dangerous addiction to pornography. Before I knew it, the lack of self-worth that was nurtured in me from a young age began to push me towards even more dangerous and destructive habits. I began experimenting with drugs and abusing alcohol in an attempt to silence the anguish and pain that loudly echoed in my heart and mind. Through out the next five years I would have many futile attempts to reconcile my destructive lifestyle with the God I still longed to feel connected to. I was clawing around in the dark for any way possible to find the peace that I knew only Jesus could give, but I wanted the way to be one that didn't require me to change the abusive way I was living.

The abuse I was suffering was no longer at the hand of others, but by my own hand, I was now the most abusive and dangerous person in my life. By the age of 22 I was so deluded into thinking that my end would be destruction that I began to purposefully engage in encounters that would put me at risk for contracting the AIDS virus. I wanted to die, but still so desperately wanted to be loved. In 2007 I entered into a relationship with a man who was HIV+ believing that If I knowingly contracted HIV from him, he would have to love me. I was going to be loved...no matter the cost. Like any unhealthy relationship eventually does, this one came to a bitter end and I was once again left on the empty stage looking for love. By this point in my life I was devoid of any sense of healthy boundaries or appropriate relating. My main objective was to seduce people into loving me, and my body was my currency. My attempts to find love and acceptance became a means to feel alive and continued to perpetuate a cycle of constant danger and self-debasing behaviors.

Life continued to spin me and in a last ditch effort to try to find some sense of solace and peace, I cried out to God one day and said, "If I’m meant for more than this, show me a way out." That day I came across the Portland Fellowship website and began to entertain the idea that this could be a door of opportunity that would lead to a better life. That fall I began the two-year Taking Back Ground program. I wish I could tell you that my life changed overnight and that I entered into a perfect relationship with Christ; but this was not the case. After finishing my first term in the TBG program, I dropped out and went back to pursuing dangerous encounters and crumbs of affection.

My tenacious attitude, which during childhood had kept me alive despite my abusive upbringing, had now turned into a disobedient, defiant and prideful spirit. Without humility and acknowledgment of my sinful nature, all the "programs" in the world wouldn't substitute a life changing encounter and sustaining relationship with God. I didn't want to accept the fact that the hardships I had experienced in life could not serve as an excuse for me to blatantly live outside the will of God.

Almost a year had passed and I found myself once again praying, "If I’m meant for more than this, show me a way out." With a broken heart, and a wounded spirit I began an authentic journey of seeking wholeness and restoration. In humility I returned to the TBG program and allowed it to serve in my life as a means to draw closer to God and encourage me to keep pursuing a life changing relationship with the Lord. While some of the horrific experiences I have been victim to and/or allowed myself to be part of may appear to be the most monumental parts of my story; I assure you they are not. The Lord has been present with me from before I was conceived; he was there every time I was being abused, and every time I tried to destroy myself. God made himself manifest to me through the prayers of a faithful Mother & Father who have been able to walk along side me in my journey to wholeness. The Lord was with me the day I took my last HIV test, and found out that I had not contracted the virus, despite my self-debasing willfulness. He is with me now as I share my story with you, and he has continued to order my steps. The Lord has begun a process of redemption that permeates every aspect of my life. Broken relationships have been mended, I have been granted the strength to accept the things of my past that cannot be changed, and most importantly I can finally see myself as Christ sees me...worthy of love, flaws and all. A major part of my healing has come from the chances I have had to share my experience with others, and to encourage others to come to know Christ in a life changing way.

I am currently working for a non-profit ministry that offers a faith based solution to men wanting to overcome substance abuse, and am serving as an intern with The Portland Fellowship. I no longer have to settle for crumbs of love, but I can now accept the lavish love of Jesus that knows no end, and has the power to change us all. The most monumental parts of my story are not the experiences that have scarred my soul or the times that I have made my bed in hell, but the times that I have made my bed in hell...and the Lord was there, which has been every time.

2011-01-01T11:04:00.000-08:00

"God is a free agent to work by law or gospel, by smiles or frowns, by presenting heaven or hell to sinners’ souls. God thunders from Mount Sinai upon some souls, and conquers them by thundering. God speaks to others in a still voice, and by that conquers them…… Some are brought to Christ by fire, storms, and tempests, others by more easy and gentle gales of the Spirit. The Spirit is free in the works of conversion, and, as the wind, it blows when, where, and how it pleases, John 3:8. Thrice happy are those souls that are brought to Christ, whether it be in a winter’s night or in a summer’s day."

Thomas Brooks, Photo by Cindy M. Diaz

2011-01-01T11:00:00.000-08:00

Christ never spoke with a prostitute. Oh, but you say ‘He did’. No, Christ never spoke with a prostitute because he never saw a prostitute, only His child.

Shane Claiborne, photo by Bian Lorenzo Bernini

2010-12-31T09:15:00.000-08:00

The other day a fella came into the center with a small box and said his company had some leftover food they were going to donate and wondered if we would like it. I happily accepted his donation and enthusiastically thanked him. Later as I opened the box in anticipation, I found his loving donation to be............well, I'll let the picture speak.

2010-12-31T09:10:00.000-08:00

In the following quote by Jeremy Taylor, he exhorts us to redeem the time by reminding us of the opportunities we often waste.

“If, besides the ordinary returns of our prayers and periodical and festival solemnities, and our seldom communions, we should allow to religion and the studies of wisdom those great shares that are trifled away upon vain sorrow, foolish mirth, troublesome ambition, busy covetousness, watchful lust, and impertinent amours, and balls and revel lings, and banquets, all that which was spent viciously, and all that time that lay fallow and without employment, our life would quickly amount to a great sum.”

I wonder if my life was illustrated with a pie chart, how it would fair? What percentage would “lay fallow”, or is spent in front of the television with “foolish mirth”?

Painting by W.C.Duyster

2010-12-20T15:01:00.000-08:00

I ran across this photo the other day and it so captures the spirit of childhood for me. With Christmas nearly upon us, and the excitement and anticipation that comes with it for children, I can't help but remember how the true childhood joys came from moments like these depicted in the photo. The times of exploration, stalking creatures, imagined or real; wading in a stream or irrigation ditch anticipating the capture of some wild, elusive creature.

This photo by Umpaporn Sathanphop illustrates the stealth and focused attention required for the catch. Ahhhh, the joys of childhood.

2010-12-18T10:00:00.001-08:00

"The Shakespeare of the divines”, the nick name given to Jeremy Taylor, is clearly illustrated in this following piece. It is from his book “Holy Dying”, where he calls us to prepare for death as we live. It is a sobering and highly practical book. I’ll help set the context by this paragraph --- “Since we stay not here, (on earth), being people but of a day’s abode, and our age is like that of a fly and contemporary with a gourd, we must look somewhere else for an abiding city, a place in another country to fix our house in, whose walls and foundation is God, where we must find rest, or else be restless for ever.”

Now the following piece is on the brevity and vanity of life, admittedly a difficult read but worth it.

“It is a mighty change that is made by the death of every person, and it is visible to us who are alive. Reckon but from the sprightfulness of youth, and the fair cheeks and full eyes of childhood, from the vigorousness and strong flexure of the joints of five-and-twenty, to the hollowness and dead paleness, to the loathsomeness and horror of a three day’s burial, and we shall perceive the distance to be very great and very strange. But so have I seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of its hood, and at first it was fair as the morning, and full with the dew of heaven as a lamb’s fleece; but when a ruder breath had forced open its virgin modesty, and dismantled its too youthful and unripe retirements, it began to put on darkness, and to decline to softness and the symptoms of a sickly age; it bowed the head, and broke its stalk, and at night having lost some of its leaves and all its beauty, it fell into the portion of weeds and outworn faces. The same is the portion of every man and every woman, the heritage of worms and serpents, rottenness and cold dishonor, and our beauty so changed, that our acquaintance quickly knew us not; and that change mingled with so much horror, or else meets so with our fears and weak discoursing, that they who six hours ago tended upon us either with charitable or ambitious services, cannot without some regret stay in the room alone where the body lies stripped of its life and honor. I have read of a fair young German gentleman who living often refused to be pictured, but put off the importunity of his friend’s desire by giving way that after a few days’ burial they might send a painter to his vault, and if they saw cause for it draw the image of his death unto life: they did so, and found his face half eaten, and his midriff and backbone full of serpents; and so he stands pictured among his armed ancestors. So does the fairest beauty change, and it will be as bad with you and me; and then what servants shall we have to wait upon us in the grave? What friends to visit us?”

Top picture by James Pan, bottom picture by Facundo Jose.

True generosity measured....

2010-11-27T09:48:00.000-08:00

"Generosity is a virtue not just for those with a special spiritual gifting or an admirable philanthropic passion. It is at the very heart of our rebirth. Popular culture has taught us to believe that charity is a virtue. But for Christians, it is only what is expected. True generosity is measured not by how much we give away but by how much is left, especially when we look at the needs of our neighbors. We have no right not to be charitable. The early Christians taught that charity is merely returning what we have stolen. In the seventeenth century, St. Vincent de Paul said that when he gives bread to the beggars, he gets on his knees and asks for forgiveness from them.

The early Christians used to write that when they did not have enough food for the hungry people at their door, the entire community would fast until everyone could share a meal together. What an incredible economy of love. The early Christians said that if a child starves while a Christian has extra food, then the Christian is guilty of murder." Shane Claiborne, Irresistible Revolution.

While I was looking for a picture for this post I ran across these two photos and was taken by the similarity in their gaze. They seem to have the haunting look of hopelessness in their eyes and it is bad enough to see that look in an adult, but how much worse in the face of a child?

Photos by Mitchell Kanashkevic

2010-11-25T09:47:00.000-08:00

I love the following piece by Jeremy Taylor; it makes me laugh to think about some of the things I have heard sermonized or debated. I accept that I’m a simple man and like a simple faith. Christianity contains many great mysteries I must confess; but Micah 6:8 can be read, obeyed and lived out even if your brain is the size of a hickory nut. In Jeremy Taylor’s eloquent way, he makes this point.

“For that which we are taught by the Holy Spirit of God, this new nature, this vital principle within us, it is that which is worth our learning; not vain and empty, idle and insignificant notions, in which when you have labored till your eyes are fixed in their orbs, and your flesh unfixed from its bones, you are no better and no wiser.

If the Spirit of God be your teacher, He will teach you such truths as will make you know and love God, and become like to Him, and enjoy Him forever, by passing from similitude to union and eternal fruition. But what are you the better if any man should pretend to teach you whether every angel makes a species, and what is the individuation of the soul in the state of separation? What are you the wiser if you should study and find out what place Adam should for ever have lived in if he had not fallen? And what is any man the more learned if he hears the disputes, whether Adam should have multiplied children in the state of innocence, and what would have been the event of things if one child had been born before his father’s sin?

Too many scholars have lived upon air and empty notions for many ages past, and troubled themselves with tying and untying knots, like hypochondriacs in a fit of melancholy, thinking of nothing, and troubling themselves with nothing, and falling out about nothings…..

Men’s notions are often like the mules, begotten by equivocal and unnatural generations; but they make no species: they are begotten, but they can beget nothing; they are the effects of long study, but they can do no good when they are produced: they are not that which Solomon calls “the way of understanding.”

If the Spirit of God be our teacher, we shall learn to avoid evil, and to do good, to be wise and to be holy, to be profitable and careful: and they that walk in this way shall find more peace in their consciences, more skill in the scriptures, more satisfaction in their doubts, than can be obtained by all the controversial and impertinent disputations of the world.”

Discouraged?

2010-11-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

My experience in the Christian walk has been a series of steps forward, then steps back; a success followed by a failure and it seems God has ordained this in the life of the Christian to keep them humble but in spite of our many failings we still find pride and self-righteousness nipping at our heels with each success.

The following piece by John Newton is of special comfort to the guys at the center who have lived much of their lives in addiction and coming out is an exhausting series of baby steps forward and long jumps back. But God is forever patient and faithful when we are not.

“I have been troubled of late with the rheumatism in my left arm. Mine is a sinful, vile body, and it is a mercy that any part of it is free from pain. It is virtually the seat and subject of all diseases; but the Lord holds them like wild beasts in a chain, under a strong restraint; were that restraint taken off, they would rush upon their prey from every quarter, and seize upon every limb, member, joint, and nerve, at once. Yet, though I am a sinner and though my whole texture is so frail and exposed, I have enjoyed for a number of years an almost perfect exemption both from pain and sickness. This is wonderful indeed, even in my own eyes.

But my soul is far from being in a healthy state. There I have labored, and still labor, under a complication of diseases; and, but for the care and skill of an infallible Physician, I must have died the death long ago. At this very moment my soul is feverish, dropsical, paralytic. I feel a loss of appetite, disinclination both to food and medicine: so that I am alive by miracle; yet I trust I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. When I faint, He revives me again. I am sure He is able, and I trust He has promised, to heal me; but how inveterate must my disease be, that is not yet subdued, even under His management!

Well, my friend, there is a land where the inhabitants shall no more say, “I am sick.” Then my eyes will not be dim, nor my ear heavy, nor my heart hard.

One sight of Jesus as He is

Will strike all sin forever dead.

Blessed be His name for this glorious hope! May it cheer us under all our present uneasy feelings, and reconcile us to every cross! The way must be right, however rough, that leads to such a glorious end.

Oh for more of that gracious influence, which in a moment can make the wilderness-soul rejoice and blossom like the rose! I want something which neither critics nor commentators can help me to. The Scripture itself, whether I read it in Hebrew, Greek, French, or English, is a sealed book in all languages unless the Spirit of the Lord is present to expound and apply. Pray for me. No prayer seems more suitable to me than that of the Psalmist: “Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise Thy name.” John Newton

2010-11-17T18:12:00.000-08:00

There is a constant temptation for the men in Teen Challenge who make dramatic progress at first which then gives them a false sense of security and they feel they are prepared to leave the program without completing it. Sadly, drug and alcohol addiction is rarely overcome with a month of treatment. Years of abuse will take, in some cases, years to overcome. There certainly are miraculous deliverance's where a person may walk away from addiction and never turn back, but this is the exception and not the rule. The following piece was a letter I wrote to one of the men who was wavering about completing the program. Later I shared it with all the guys because of its relevance.

"And look that you make constant resistance, as well as strong resistance; be constant in arms.

Satan will come on with new temptations when old ones are weak. In a calm prepare for a storm.

The tempter is restless, always on the offense, and subtle; he will suit his temptations to your personality and desires. Satan loves to sail with the wind. Therefore while you are still fit for fresh assaults, make one victory a step to another. When you have overcome a temptation, take heed of unbending your bow, and see to it, that your bow be always bent, and that it remains in strength.

When you have overcome one temptation you must be ready to enter the course with another. As distrust in some sense is the mother of safety, so security is the gate of danger.

A man had need to fear this most of all, that he fears not at all. If Satan be always roaring, we should be always a-watching and resisting him.” Thomas Brooks

I think this theme is summed up in the following scripture --

Genesis 4:7
If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.”

We soon forget that sin is crouching at our door and we drift off to the land of “Nod” and like the sentry who fell asleep at his post while the opposing army chose that very night to wage their attack and found opportunity for a victorious surprise attack because of the sleeping sentry.

I think it’s very important to remember that even though while in the walls of Teen Challenge, where its structure encourages every form of spiritual discipline; you have brothers to share with and staff to encourage you; classes to teach, chapels to inspire and the environment is relatively free of temptations for gross sins, you will not long from now be back in the world, with little or no structure and none to exhort you to follow the disciplines that have helped you thus far. Remember, the battle has not yet been won. I like the words of Winston Churchill which were applied to the Nazi takeover of Europe, but can be applied to the battle against addictions –

“This is not the end, it is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”

So if you find yourself without a hunger and thirst for a deeper walk with Christ you must ask, ‘if not here, where? If not now, when? There is a famous quote by Shakespeare that is so relevant to your circumstance –

“There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.”

Now the tide of opportunity is in, your life is at a crossroad.

The “flood” or circumstances, exist now that may well lead to fortune, or victory.

If you let this opportunity go by in hopes that there's a promise of another easier time, or more advantages place, you may find yourself bound to shallows and miseries. You are now afloat a strong tide and current, and it will serve you well, if taken advantage of;

redeem the time!

Photo by Amanda Hoskin

2010-11-01T09:02:00.000-07:00

I appreciate the knowledge and information we have learned about human behavior: the insights we have today with all of history to look back on and help us grow into more responsible, mature and civilized persons. We have come a long way since Shakespeare uttered the words “know thyself.”

Now I love a good motivational speaker and I’m always lifted by “a noble theme.”

That being said, when it comes to dealing with the men at Teen Challenge, who need all of the above to help them overcome life-controlling addictions, and of course overcoming my own personal demons; I know but one way that truly leads to personal victory and that is with the old time preaching found in the writings of the spiritual divines of the past. When it comes to advice that I have found effective in my own life and see change and turn around lives in others, I find but one answer and it is contained in the following piece from Thomas Brooks. Here is the only fail safe, true power I know of to offer a person in desperation and bondage. Taste and see……

“Make strong and constant resistance against Satan’s temptations.

Make resistance against temptations by arguments drawn from the honor of God, the love of God, your union and communion with God; and from the blood of Christ, the death of Christ, the kindness of Christ, the intercession of Christ, and the glory of Christ; and from the voice of the Spirit, the counsel of the Spirit, the comforts of the Spirit, the presence of the Spirit, the seal of the Spirit, the whisperings of the Spirit, the commands of the Spirit, the assistance of the Spirit, the witness of the Spirit; and from the glory of heaven, the excellency of grace, the beauty of holiness, the worth of the soul, and the vileness or bitterness and evil of sin……”

I know of no other way but by application of the above quote poured out at the feet of Christ, bathed in tears in a deep spirit of contrition.

2010-10-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

In this poem a view of opportunity is presented. The recreant or the dreamer complains that he has no real chance. He would succeed, he says, if he had but the implements of success: money, influence, social prestige, and the like. But success lies far less in implements than in the use we make of them.

What one man throws away as useless, another man seizes as the best means of victory at hand. For every one of us the materials for achievement are sufficient. The spirit that prompts us is what ultimately counts.

This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:--

There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;

And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged

A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords

Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince’s

Banner

Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by

foes.

A craven hung along the battle’s edge,

And thought, “Had I a sword of keener steel –

That blue blade that the king’s son bears, ---but

This

Blunt thing --------!” he snapt and flung it from his

hand,

and lowering crept away and left the field.

Then came the king’s son, wounded, sore bested,

And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,

Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,

And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout

Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,

And saved a great cause that heroic day.

Edward Rowland Sill

Psalm 142

2010-10-24T11:39:00.000-07:00

Give heed to my cry,

For I am brought very low;

Deliver me from my persecutors,

For they are too strong for me.

Bring my soul out of prison........

When I read this scripture I knew it was to be shared at the Teen Challenge center.

This is the cry from the battle, the persecution of addiction, too strong to be overcome;

souls imprisoned, longing for a rescuer, whose name and life we offer as the only lasting hope.

May God be praised forever!

Psalm 142: 5-7, photo by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.

2010-10-24T11:25:00.000-07:00

When I think I have heard the worst story of victimization a student at the center can tell, sadly, it is followed by another, reaching new heights of evil. Such is the story of one of the guys at center now; I’ll call him Bill, who was prey to an adult pedophile neighbor whose lust for evil knows no bounds. He drew in Bill with the intent of filming him and the only female victim available was Bill’s younger sister who he was forced to have sex with while being filmed. It didn’t end there; he was also forced to have sex with animals while being filmed. I’ll end the details there, which should suffice to paint the picture of his case of horrid child abuse; I wish it ended there but no normal mind can imagine the extent of the abuse.

Enduring these abuses caused Bill to act out which caused his father, not to inquire about the changes but rather to react to them and draw away from Bill and ultimately to punish, verbally abuse and lastly, physically abuse him.

Living in this world of madness where the vileness of the acts penetrated to the very marrow of his young bones, as soon as he was introduced to the numbing and mood elevating effects of intoxicants, he was soon addicted.

But the story does not end there because when Bill heard the story of Christ’s power to cleanse the darkest soul and forgive the vilest sins: Bill clutched the hem of Christ’s garment with such fervor that, be it dragged to heaven or carried, he would not let go. Of course Jesus lifted him up and lavished His emergency grace over Bill and washed him white as snow. I can’t remember a more devoted student, who longs to serve and please God with such a single mind that my faith blushes in comparison.

May I never resist the promptings of the Spirit of Christ when he bids me speak.

Painting by Simon Dewey

2010-09-04T18:10:00.000-07:00

I ran across this piece the other day and I thought it was really good. It is about “What Jesus do you believe in.” Even though this is from new minds of today, I think it is filled with insightful thoughts. Enjoy.

“We must face the fact that many different saviors can be smuggled in under the name “Jesus”, just as many different deities can be disguised under the term “God” and vastly different ways of living can be promoted under the name “Christianity.” Jesus can be a victim of identity theft, and peoples can say and do things with and in his name that he would never ever do. Nobody has helped me see this more clearly than one of my most loyal and dedicated critics.

He was being interviewed a couple of years ago and described me and my friends as those that want: to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in His hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes.

Quite a way with words! The characterization of my friends and me was nothing, though, compared to his characterization of Jesus that came shortly thereafter:

“In Revelation, Jesus is a prize-fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper; halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up.”

What would cause this articulate and highly committed Christian to portray Jesus as a prize-fighter, armed with a sword, intent on harming, killing, inflicting violence, drawing blood?

……However ridiculous – or tasteless – some portray Christ, it mirrors as only satire can a sad reality of church history and of today’s religious landscape. We all are tempted to remake Jesus into just about anything we like. We like a Jesus who hates the people we hate and likes whatever we like, a certain kind of politics, either right or left, or cuddly omnipotence. Too many of us, whether as individuals or groups, honestly – and naively – believe our view is “objective” and “true”, with no distortion at all.

Among those who become more self-aware about the danger of distortion, an understandable fear arises; if all of us (not just “all of them”) are tempted to remake Jesus in our own image, then we should be extremely cautious about compromising, letting Jesus be reimaged according to our contemporary tastes.

Thoughtful readers have probably already anticipated a problem with this otherwise well-founded caution. By holding a presumptive hostility to new views of Jesus, which may indeed reflect contemporary biases, we may unwittingly preserve old views of Jesus, which also reflect dangerous and comprising biases – just biases of the past rather that the present.

So, in successfully rejecting an insipid “hippie, diaper, halo Christ,” we may unintentionally protect and uphold --

The white supremacist Jesus,

The colonial Jesus,

The Eurocentric Jesus,

The slave-owning Jesus,

The nuclear bomb-dropping America first Jesus,

The organ-music stained glass nostalgic-sentimental Jesus,

The Native American-slaying genocidal Jesus,

The cuddly omnipotent Christmas Jesus,

The male-chauvinist Jesus,

The homophobic “God hates fags” Jesus,

The South African pro-apartheid Jesus,

The Joe-six-pack-Jesus, and so on.

Those who think they stand had better take heed lest they fall, and those who think they know may have some more learning to do.

As we noted earlier, the slippery slope argument – that we’d better not budge on or rethink anything for fear we’ll slip down into liberalism, apostasy, or some other hell – proves itself dangerous and naïve even as it tries to protect us from danger and naiveté. First it assumes we’re already at the top of the slope, when it’s just as likely that we’re at the bottom or somewhere in the middle. Second, it assumes that, even if we were at the peak, there’s only one side we might be in danger of sliding down, as if the mountain had only a northern liberal slope without an equally dangerous southern conservative slope, or an Eastern “new age” slope without an equally Western “old age” slope. You can back away from one danger smack over the hill of another.

My loyal critic sincerely and passionately believes in the tattooed, sword wielding prize fighter Jesus because of his reading of Revelation 19:11-16 –

“Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems; and he has a name inscribed that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called the Word of God. And the armies of heaven, wearing fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horsed. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

Now, if we read this passage not as a constitutional document decreeing future events, but as a crucial document in the biblical library, we need to place it in its historical context and genre. Clearly, this is a work of Jewish apocalyptic literature, which in turn is part of a larger genre known as the literature of the oppressed. These kinds of literature worked in the first century in ways similar to the way some science fiction works for us today. For example, when we read or watch Planet of the Apes, Star Trek, The Matrix, or Wall-E, we don’t think the writers and filmmakers are trying to predict the future. No, we understand they are really talking about the present, and they are doing so in hopes of changing the future.

So Planet of the Apes turns out to be a way of talking about how nuclear war—a hot topic in the Cold War era in which it was written – could destroy humanity……

The depictions of the future given in these works of science fiction are not predictions or prognostications. They provide windows on the actual present from the perspective of an imagined future, and they do so in hopes of influencing us in the present to live and choose wisely, thus creating a better future than we otherwise would.

In the Apocalypse, or Revelation, early followers of Jesus are in a similar moment of creative possibility. They must deal with the fact that they believe Jesus was right and his kingdom was true, yet they are being vilified and persecuted brutally. The emperor of Rome seems firmly in control, and nothing seems to be moving in the direction of the Kingdom of God. In that light, what message do they need? Do they need to hear that soon they can forget about all that naïve peace and forgiveness stuff that Jesus taught, because soon they’ll be allowed to pull out their swords, mount their warhorses, and kick some persecutor’s hindquarters? Or do they need a message of reassurance, encouragement and confidence that the way of peace that Jesus modeled is indeed the good and right way, that it will triumph in the end, and so they shouldn’t give up on it?

Apparently, the passage in question can be interpreted wither way – one way that subverts the reconciling messages of Jesus’s gospel and life, and another way that reinforces them.

For me, the latter approach is the only acceptable one.

The passage in question isn’t telling us Jesus is a prize-fighter with a commitment to make somebody bleed. Nor is it claiming that the Jesus of the gospels was a fake-me-out Jesus pretending to be a peace-and-love guy, when really he was planning to come back and act like a proper Caesar, more of a slash-and-burn guy, brutal, willing to torture, and determined to conquer with crushing violence.

Nor is it informing us that even God has to use violence to impose the divine will in the end.

Instead, this image of Jesus as a conqueror reassures believers that the peaceful Jesus who entered Jerusalem on a donkey that day wasn’t actually weak and defeated; he was in fact every bit as powerful as a Caesar on a steed. His message of forgiveness and reconciliation – conveyed as a sword coming out of his mouth (not in his hand, as my loyal critic asserted – quite an important detail)

Will in the end prove far more powerful than Caesar’s handheld swords and spears. And the blood on his robe—that’s not the blood of his enemies. It’s his own blood, because the battle hasn’t even begun yet, and Revelation has already shown us Jesus “as a lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (5:6)

And it may also recall the blood of the peaceful martyrs (6:9-11), since in attacking them, violent forces were also attacking Jesus, the Prince of Peace, who taught them the way of peace.

To repeat, Revelation is not portraying Jesus returning to earth in the future, having repented of his naïve gospel ways and having converted to Caesar’s “realistic” methods instead. He hasn’t gotten discouraged about Caesar seeming to get the upper hand after his resurrection and on that basis concluded that it’s best to live by the sword after all. Jesus hasn’t abandoned the way of peace and concluded the way of Pilate is better, mandating that his disciples should fight after all. He hasn’t had second thoughts about all that talk about forgiveness and concluded that on the 78^th offense (or 491^st, depending on interpretation), you should pull out your sword and hack off your offender’s head rather than turn the other cheek.

He hasn’t given up on that “love your enemies” stuff and judged it naïve and foolish after all, concluding instead that God’s strength is made manifest not in weakness but in crushing domination. He hasn’t had a change of heart, concluding that the weapons he needs are physical after all or that the enemies of the kingdom are flesh and blood after all, which would mean that the way to glory isn’t actually by dying on the cross but rather by nailing others on it.

When I read this I thought of both Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi, and how absurd it would be to think that either of them would turn to the sword if they had lived longer.

A New Kind of Christianity by Brian McLaren, painting from the Internet

2010-09-04T09:23:00.000-07:00

Ya gotta love this gal's hair.

2010-09-04T09:05:00.000-07:00

This is a painting of "Much Afraid" with her two helpers Sorrow and Suffering, from the book "Hinds Feet On High Places", by Daniel F. Gerhartz. She was comforted by her two companions and they helped her along her way to heaven. If you haven't read the book I highly recommend it, it is a Christian classic. I was feeling down the other day and I picked up a book titled Precious Remedies Against Satan's Devices by Thomas Brooks. When ever I'm in the need of a full course meal I turn to Thomas, he rarely disappoints; this day was no different. Here is one of his many remedies against the enemy ----

"The sixth remedy against this device of Satan is, solemnly to consider, That believers must repent for their being discouraged by their sins. Their being discouraged by their sins will cost them many a prayer, many a tear, and many a groan; and that because their discouragements under sin flow from ignorance and unbelief. It springs from their ignorance of the richness, freeness, fullness, and everlastingness of God's love; and from their ignorance of the power, glory, sufficiency, and efficacy of the death and sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ; and from their ignorance of the worth, glory, fullness, largeness, and completeness of the righteousness of Jesus Christ; and from their ignorance of that real close, spiritual, glorious, and inseparable union that is between Christ and their precious souls. Ah! did precious souls know and believe the truth of these things as they should, they would not sit down dejected and overwhelmed under the sense and operation of sin, etc.

2010-08-14T10:49:00.000-07:00

If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere. -

Frank A. Clark

Sidewalk debri

2010-07-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

I was working in the center the other day and walked up towards the cash register and noticed my register man walking with a cell phone at his ear going towards the outside door. I assumed he had a customer question so I went to cover the register. He didn’t return right away which was out of character and I later found out that one of our men Eric was outside holding a sign when a man pulled up and got out of his car and opened the passenger side door where a woman was and he lifted her out and rolled her on the sidewalk, rushed back to his car, yelled out, “call 911” and sped away. Eric came in and called to the register man Seth, to call 911 which he did immediately; then he went to find out what he was calling for. When the operator answered he told her he could see a woman laying lifeless on the sidewalk. By then three other brothers from the center were outside around her praying. The 911 operator asked Seth to see if she was breathing, he said she didn’t appear to be. The operator asked him to put his ear to her mouth to see if he could hear her breathing; he did so but couldn’t hear anything and told the operator she was turning blue. She asked him if he was comfortable giving CPR, he wondered what his comfort had to do with anything but noticed what seemed to be a fluttering heart beat but it seemed to be diminishing. Just as he was about to administer CPR the woman gasped, then in a few seconds gasped again and continued to breath in a belabored fashion. Seth noticed an ambulance driving by and asked the operator if she could contact them and have them turn back. Soon the ambulance arrived and assessed her condition and gave her an injection of Norpan?, a drug that fools the opiate receptors in the brain so they cannot detect the opiate for about 15 minutes and then another injection is needed. The woman had overdosed on opiates and her beloved, who was captured not long after because of the presence of mind of the men who got his license plate numbers, had dumped her for who knows what reason?

It was another intense time at the center and one has to wonder why the man chose that location, between our center and a Porn shop, to discard her.

No question the woman’s life was saved because of the quick thinking and concentrated prayers of the men at the center.

This morning, as I was remembering this and wondering what it all meant, it came to me that the man who cast her aside and ran back to his car yelling for strangers to call 911 must certainly be desperately wicked. I wondered what he looked like, this monster of a man, and as I was thinking about this the Lord let me see his face; and the face was mine, as well as all of the guys at the center who have reeked havoc in the lives of others and then fled our responsibilities trusting the out-come to strangers, other family members, single moms, government institutions or just a 911 call to heaven. It was a sobering moment as I shared this today with the guys. It hit home and we ended with an earnest prayer of dedication and sober reflections.

Photo from the Internet

Going Home

2010-07-05T10:54:00.000-07:00

I was reading in Thomas Brook’s “A String of Pearls”, a sermon given at a close friends funeral, and in his introduction he speaks of the woman – Mrs. Mary Blake deceased, with such fondness and inspiration that it moved me and I thought I would share some of the kind things he said of this woman who has gone to be with Christ some 400 years ago.

“Before I name my text, give me leave to speak a few words upon another text, viz., the glorified saint deceased, at whose funeral we are here met.

In life she was my joy… the work of grace upon her heart was clear, powerful, and thorough, as all know that knew her inwardly. She was a knowing woman in the things of Christ; and her knowledge was inward, experimental, growing, humbling, transforming, and practical. She knew Christ in the mystery as well as in the history; in the spirit as well as in the letter; feelingly, as well as notionally; she did not only eat of the tree of knowledge, but also tasted of the tree of life.

A sincere soul is like the violet, which grows low, and hides itself and its own sweetness, as much as may be, with its own leaves; and such a one was she. She had as many choice, visible characters of sincerity and uprightness upon her, as ever I read upon any Christian that I have had the happiness to be acquainted with. But I must not dwell on these things; I shall only say she was not like the actor in the comedy, who cried with his mouth, O heaven! But pointed with his finger to the earth. Such professors there be, but she was none of them.

She was as rich in spiritual experiences as most that I have been acquainted with. Ah! How often hath she warmed, gladded, and quickened my spirit, by acquainting me with what the Lord hath done for her precious soul. Experiences in religion are beyond notions and impressions. A sanctified heart is better than a silver tongue; and she found it so. Oh! The stories that she was able to tell of the love of God, the presence of Christ, the breathings of the Spirit, the exercise of grace, the sweetness of the word, the deceitfulness of sin, and the devices and methods of Satan. And though she made uses of her experiences, as crutches to lean on, yet she only made use of the promises as a foundation to build on.

As the star led the wise men to Christ, her experiences were her sauce, but Christ was still her food.

She was a Christian in profession, and a Christian in practice; a Christian in lip, and a Christian in life; a Christian in word, and a Christian in work; a Christian in show, and a Christian in power and spirit.

She was for patience and cheerfulness under her long lingering weakness, as exemplary as any that ever I was acquainted with. If at any time she groaned, yet she blessed God, as she used to say, that she did not grumble. Oh how quiet, how like a lamb she was under all her trials. Oh how well she would speak of God! oh how sweetly did she carry it towards God! oh how much was she taken up in justifying of God throughout her pining, wasting sicknesses!

What eyes thou read’st with, reader, know I wot,

Mine were not dry when I this story wrote."

Photo from the Internet

2010-07-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

The Prayer-Seeker

Along the aisle where prayer was made,

A woman, all in black arrayed,

Close-veiled, between the kneeling host,

With gliding motion of a ghost,

Passed to the desk, and laid thereon

A scroll which bore these words alone,

Pray for me!

Back from the place of worshipping

She glided like a guilty thing:

The rustle of her draperies stirred

By hurrying feet, alone was read,

As out into the dark she sped:

Pray for me!

Back to the night from whence she came,

To unimagined grief or shame!

Across the threshold of that door

None knew the burden that she bore;

Alone she left the written scroll,

The legend of a troubled soul, ---

Pray for me!

Glide on, poor ghost of woe or sin!

Thou leav’st a common need within;

Each bears, like thee, some nameless weight,

Some misery inarticulate,

Some secret sin, some shrouded dread,

Some household sorrow all unsaid.

Pray for us!

Pass on! The type of all thou art,

Sad witness to the common heart!

With face in veil and seal on lip,

In mute and strange companionship,

Like thee we wander to and fro,

Dumbly imploring as we go:

Pray for us!

Ah, who shall pray, since he who pleads

Our want perchance hath greater needs?

Yet they who make their loss the gain

Of others shall not ask in vain,

And Heaven bends low to hear the prayer

Of love from lips of self-despair:

Pray for us!

In vain remorse and fear and hate

Beat with bruised hands against a fate

Whose walls of iron only move

And open to the touch of love.

He only feels his burdens fall

Who, taught by suffering, pities all.

Pray for us!

He prayeth best who leaves unguessed

The mystery of another’s breast.

Why cheeks grow pale, why eyes o’erflow,

Or heads are white, thou need’st not know.

Enough to note by many a sign

That every heart hath needs like thine.

Pray for us!

Poem by John Greenleaf Whittier, photo by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.

Anger

2010-06-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

At the center the most common problem we deal with is the men's anger. When you have been abusing drugs and alcohol for years you lose the respect of everyone and the easiest way to get compliance is with your anger because you have lost the power of love and respect. Certainly all men struggle to some degree with anger issues and I found this piece filled with good information and warning.

"It does no good to get angry. Some sins have a seeming compensation or apology, a present gratification of some sort, but anger has none. A man feels no better for it. It is really a torment, and when the storm of passion has cleared away, it leaves one to see that he has been a fool. And he has made himself a fool in the eyes of others too.

Sinful anger, when it becomes strong, is called wrath; when it makes outrages, it is fury; when it becomes fixed, it is termed hatred; and when it intends to injure any one, it is called malice. All these wicked passions spring from anger.

The continuance and frequent fits of anger produce an evil habit of the soul, a propensity to be angry, which oftentimes ends in choler, bitterness, and morosity;

When the mind becomes ulcerated, peevish, and fretting, and like a thin, weak plate of iron, receives impressions, and is wounded by the least occurrence.

Anger is such a headstrong and impetuous passion, that the ancients call it a short madness; and indeed there is no difference between an angry man and a madman while the fit continues, because both are void of reason and blind for the moment. It is a disease that, while it prevails, is no less dangerous than deforming to us; it swells the face, it agitates the body, and inflames the blood; and as the evil spirit mentioned in the Gospel threw the possessed into fire or water, so it casts us into all kinds of danger.

“There is not in nature a thing that

Makes man so deformed, so beastly

As does uncontrolled anger.” John Webster

It too often ruins or subverts whole families, towns, cities and kingdoms. It is a vice that very few can conceal; and if it does not betray itself by such external signs as paleness and trembling of the limbs, it is more violent within, and by gnawing in the heart injures the body and the mind very much.

No man is expected to live so free of passion as not so show some resentment; and it is rather stoical stupidity than virtue, to do otherwise. Anger may glance into the breast of a wise man for a moment, but it comes to rest in the bosom of fools.

“Wise anger is like fire from the flint;

There is a great ado to bring it out;

And when it does come,

It is out again immediately.” Matthew Henry

Fight hard against a hasty temper. Anger will come, but resist it strongly. A spark may set a house on fire. A fit of passion may give you cause to mourn all the days of your life. Never revenge an injury. If you are aware of being in a passion, keep your mouth shut, for words increase it. Dr. Fuller used to say that the heat of passion makes our souls crack, and the devil creeps in at the crevices. Anger is a passion the most criminal and destructive of all the passions;

The only passion that not only bears the appearance of insanity, but often produces the wildest form of madness. It is difficult, indeed, sometimes to mark the line that distinguishes the bursts of rage from the bursts of a mad frenzy; so similar are its movements, and too often equally similar are its actions.

What crime has not been committed in the passion and outbursts of anger? Has not the friend murdered his friend? The son massacred his parent? The creature blasphemed his Creator? When, indeed, the nature of this passion is considered, what crime may it not commit? Is it not the storm of the human mind, which wrecks every better affection – wrecks reason and conscience; and, as a ship driven without helm or compass before the rushing gale, it not the mind born away, without guide or government, by the tempest of unbounded rage?

A passionate temper renders a man unfit for advice, deprives him of his reason, robs him of all that is either great or noble in his nature; it makes him unfit for conversation, destroys friendships, changes justice into cruelty, and turns all order into confusion. One angry word sometimes raises a storm that time itself cannot calm. There is many a man whose tongue might govern multitudes, if he could only govern his tongue. He is the man of power who controls the storms and tempests of his mind. But he that will be angry for anything, will be angry for nothing. If we do not subdue our anger it will subdue us. Our passions are like the seas, agitated by the winds; and as God has set bounds to these, so should we to those – so far shalt thou go, and no farther.

Angry and choleric men are as ungrateful and unsociable as thunder and lightning, being in themselves all storm and tempests; but quiet and easy natures are like fair weather, welcome to all, and acceptable to all men; they gather together what the other disperses, and reconcile all whom the other pushes away; as they have good will and the good wishes of all other men, so they have the full possession of themselves, have all their own thoughts at peace, and enjoy quiet and ease in their own fortunes, how little so ever it may be.

But how is it with the angry man, and who thinks well of an ill-natured, churlish man, who has to be approached in the most guarded and cautious way?

Who wants him for a neighbor, or a partner in business?

He keeps all those around him in nearly the same state of mind as if they were living next door to a hornet’s nest or a rabid animal.

And how will the angry man be in business. What if business is perplexing and everything is contrary! Will a fit of passion make the wind calm, the ground productive, the market more favorable? Will bad temper draw customers, pay notes, and make creditors better natured? If men, animals, or senseless matter cause trouble, will getting “mad” help matters? Will it make men more subservient, brutes more docile, wood and stone easier to work with?

Any angry man adds nothing to the welfare of society. He may do some good, but more hurt. Heated passion makes him a firebrand, and it is a wonder that he does not kindle flames of discord on every hand.

The disadvantages arising from anger, no matter what the circumstances, should prove a remedy for the complaint. In moments of cool reflection, the man who indulges it, views with deep regret the desolations produced by a summer storm of angry passion. Friendship, domestic happiness, self-respect, the esteem of others, and sometimes property, are swept away by a whirlwind; perhaps a tornado of anger. I have more than once seen the furniture of a house in a mass of ruin, the work of an angry moment. I have seen anger make wives unhappy and cower in fear, children shake and cry out in fear of the very one they should run to for safety, all harmony lost, and the entire neighbor hood disturbed.

Anger, like too much wine, hides us from ourselves, but exposes us to others.

Some people seem to live in a perpetual storm; calm weather can never be reckoned upon when in their company. Suddenly, when you least expect it, without any adequate reason, and almost without any reason at all, the sky becomes black, and the wind rises, and there is growling thunder and pelting rain. You can hardly tell where the tempest came from. A simple accident by a child, a misunderstanding which a moments calm thought would have terminated, a chance word which meant no evil, a trifling difficulty which good sense might have removed at once, a slight disappointment which a cheerful heart would have borne with a smile, brings on earthquakes and hurricanes.

To be angry about trifles is low and childish; to rage and be furious is brutish; and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of devils.

Man was born to reason, to reflection, and to do all things quietly and in order. Anger takes from him this ability, transforms his manship into childish petulance, his reasoning powers into brute instinct. Consider, then, how much more you often suffer from your anger than from those things for which you are angry.

And where does it all end? More often than not, the angry man ends up alone.

Spouse gone, children lost, home shattered, friends driven off, parents left in grief.

Remember; don’t be angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself what you wish to be."

The Royal Path of Life - Photo by Tony Hnojcik

Memorial Day

2010-05-31T10:38:00.000-07:00

"We were no sooner come to the Temple Stairs, but we were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offering us their respective services. Sir Rodger, after having looked about him very attentively, spied one with a wooden leg, and immediately gave him orders to get his boat ready. As we were walking towards it, “you must know,” says Sir Roger, “I never make use of anybody to row me, that has not either lost a leg or arm. I would rather bate him a few strokes of his oar than not employ an honest man that has been wounded in the Queen’s service. If I was a lord or a bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a fellow in my livery that had not a wooden leg.”

Joseph Addison

2010-05-31T10:11:00.000-07:00

Joseph Addison addresses the need for exercise in this little piece and quotes a great poem by Dryden –

“For my own part I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay with Sir Rodger; and shall prescribe the moderate use of this exercise to all my country friends, as the best kind of physic for mending a bad constitution, and preserving a good one. I cannot do this better, than in the following lines out of Mr. Dryden: --

The first physicians by debauch were made;

Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade.

By chase our long-lived fathers earned their food;

Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood;

But we their sons, a pamper’d race of men

Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought

Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.

The wise for cure on exercise depend:

God never made His work for man to mend.

Picture by Teuku Jody Zulkarnaen

Respect your elders

2010-05-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

“It happened in Athens, during a public representation of some play exhibited in honor of the commonwealth, that an old gentle man came too late for a seat suitable to his age and quality. Many of the young gentlemen, who observed the difficulty and confusion he was in, made signs to him that they would accommodate him if he came where they sat. The good man bustled through the crowd accordingly; but when he came to the seats to which he was invited, the jest was to sit close and expose him, as he stood, out of countenance, to the whole audience. The frolic went round all the Athenian benches. But on those occasions there were also particular places assigned for foreigners. When the good man skulked towards the boxes appointed for the Lacedaemonians, that honest people, more virtuous than polite, rose up all to a man, and with the greatest respect received him among them. The Athenians, being suddenly touched with a sense of the Spartan virtue and their own degeneracy, gave a thunder of applause; and the old man cried out, ‘The Athenians understand what is good, but the Lacedaemonians practice it.’”

This made me reflect that often we Christians think the world needs a counselor when in reality they need an example.

Joseph Addison, photo by Ian

2010-05-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

"I advise you not to be troubled by what you hear of other folk's experience, but keep close to the written Word, where you will meet with much to encourage you though you often feel yourself weary and heavy laden. For my own part, I like that path best which is well beaten by the footsteps of the flock, though it is not always pleasant and strewed with flowers. In our way, we find some hills, from whence we can cheerfully look about us; but we meet with deep valleys likewise, and seldom travel long upon even ground." John Newton

I like this practical piece of advice, and have found it so in my life. There have been times when I sought after a deeper more mystical relationship with God and it may be I should have sought it more instead of leaving off for more common ground; but, be that as it may, I have found the well beaten path the safest ground and God has not been hindered by my choice, I find myself atop hills and mountains even though my destination was to walk on level ground.

Photo from the Internet

2010-05-22T12:53:00.000-07:00

"Last week we had a lion in town. I went to see him. He was wonderfully tame; as familiar with his keeper, as docile and obedient as a spaniel. Yet the man told me he had his surly fits when they dared not touch him. No looking-glass could express my face more justly than this lion did my heart. I could trace every feature, as wild and fierce by nature, yea, much more so; but grace has in some measure tamed me; I know and love my Keeper and sometimes watch His looks that I may learn His will. But, oh! I have my surly fits too; seasons when I relapse into the savage again, as though I had forgotten all."

John Newton - Photo by Carlos Barriuso Amo

2010-05-12T19:20:00.000-07:00

I was reading a chapter in "Plain Living and High Thinking" on 'what to talk about'.

It is a practical chapter and in it I found this poem by Cowper that encourages us as are minds are busy looking to and fro, to gather the good and to share it.

" The mind, dispatched upon her busy toil,

should range where Providence has blessed the soil;

Visiting every flower with labor meet,

and gathering all her treasures, sweet by sweet,

she should imbue the tongue with what she sips,

and shed the balmy blessing on the lips,

that good diffused may more abundant grow,

and speech may praise the Power that bids it flow."

Now regarding the photo, this is a picture of my grandson Nic while he was on his first missionary journey to visit a refugee camp on the Thai/Burma border. Surely this is soil blessed by Providence and the memory of this treasure is "sweet by sweet"; and wouldn't you know the Lord would bring along this delightful helpmate for his first journey.

God attends to all the details.

2010-04-26T19:35:00.000-07:00

"The day arrives, the moment wished and feared;

The child is born, by many a pang endeared,

and now the mother's ear has caught the cry;

O grant the cherub to her asking eye!

He comes -- she clasps him. To her bosom pressed,

He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest.

Her by her smile how soon the stranger knows;

How soon by his the glad discovery shows!

As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,

what answering looks of sympathy and joy!

he walks, he speaks. In many a broken word

His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard.

And ever, ever to her lap he flies,

when rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise.

Locked in her arms, his arms across her flung

(that name most dear forever on his tongue)

as with soft accents round her neck he clings,

and, cheek to cheek, her lulling song she sings,

how blest to feel the beatings of his heart,

breathe his sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart.

Watch o'er his slumbers like the brooding dove,

and, if she can, exhaust a mother's love."

I ran across this piece on "Human Life", and thought this part on a mother's love captures it like few things I've ever read. So sweet, so tender. God's richest gift.

Samuel Rogers, photo by Tom Florres Sr.

2010-04-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

I ran across this photo by Andre Torres and just had to share it. Man! the colors and composition of this photo just jump out. Oh to take a photo like this! These two ladies are from Viet Nam. Simply electric.

2010-04-17T09:55:00.001-07:00

As Christians, we lose our way many times and at many seasons. The following piece by Samuel Johnson spells out the process as well as I've ever heard it. If you have missed your mark may this encourage you.

“Son,” said the hermit, “let the errors and follies, the dangers and escapes of this day sink deep into thy heart. Remember, my son, that human life is the journey of a day. We rise in the morning of youth, full of vigor, and full of expectation; we set forward with spirit and hope, with gayety and with diligence, and travel on a while in the straight road of piety towards the mansions of rest. In a short time we remit our fervor, and endeavor to find some mitigation of our duty, and some more easy means of obtaining the same end. We then relax our vigor, and resolve no longer to be terrified with crimes at a distance, but rely upon our own constancy, and venture to approach what we resolved never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of ease, and repose in the shades of security. Here the heart softens, and vigilance subsides; we are then willing to enquire whether another advance cannot be made, and whether we may not, at least, turn our eyes upon the gardens of pleasure. We approach them with scruple and hesitation; we enter them, but enter timorous and trembling; and always hope to pass through them without losing the road of virtue, which we, for a while, keep in our sight, and to which we propose to return. But temptation succeeds temptation, and one compliance prepares us for another; we in time lose the happiness of innocence, and solace our disquiet with sensual gratifications. By degrees we let fall the remembrance of our original intention, and quit the only adequate object of rational desire. We entangle ourselves in business, immerge ourselves in luxury, and rove through the labyrinths of inconstancy, till the darkness of old age begins to invade us, and disease and anxiety obstruct our way. We then look back upon our lives with horror, with sorrow, with repentance; and wish, but too often vainly wish, that we had not forsaken the ways of virtue. Happy are they, my son, who shall learn from the example not to despair but shall remember, that though the day is past, and their strength is wasted, there yet remains one effort to be made; that reformation is never hopeless, nor sincere endeavors every unassisted; that the wanderer may at length return after all his errors; and that he who implores strength and courage from above, shall find danger and difficulty give way before him. Go now, my son, to thy repose; commit thyself to the care of Omnipotence; and when the morning calls again to toil, begin anew thy journey and thy life.”

Samuel Johnson, photo by Yiannis G.

Contrasts

2010-04-04T14:17:00.000-07:00

Photo by John Crosley

2010-04-04T12:57:00.000-07:00

In the last week the scripture 2Cor. 1:5 “For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ”, has captured my attention. I began to ponder, ‘what are the sufferings of Christ today?’. During His earthly ministry he suffered many ways, physically and emotionally, but today the physical sufferings have ceased, so as I began to consider what might His sufferings be today and what does it mean to have the abundant sufferings of Christ today.

We know there are thousands living in countries where faith in Christ is considered illegal and people suffer, in some cases brutally, for Christ. Surely this is to share in the sufferings of Christ. But for those where no persecution exists, is there another application? I think there is, and I think it applies to the emotional and spiritual suffering that Christ and all of heaven suffers today as a result of sin; wars, oppression, greed, addictions, poverty and each of us can add to the list of evils that pervade our cultures. As I watched “Precious” the other night I was keenly aware that the emotions of compassion and sorrow were in this day the “sufferings of Christ”, rising up in me. Just like two thousand years ago when Jesus would rescue Israel by gathering them under His wings; and as He wept over Jerusalem, these sufferings go on in His heart today and we are to share in those sufferings. We may never be persecuted for our faith but we shall suffer for all those in the bonds of wickedness if we truly share in the sufferings of Christ.

So as 2Cor. 1:7 says that the believers in Corinth shared in Paul’s sufferings, we are today to share the sufferings of Christ, so also we are sharers of His comfort.”

To sum up, like the old hymn “In The Garden” states ---”I’d stay in the garden with Him, tho the night around me be falling; but He bids me go, thru the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.” Yes, His voice is calling through the voice of woe, and I think this is His suffering today, and we are to share in it.

Photo by Maciej Dakowicz

2010-04-03T09:25:00.000-07:00

I watched the movie “Precious” last night. It is the story of extreme abuse, the world that few live in but a reality for some that most of us cannot even imagine. The story is heart wrenching and defies description. When watching it is hard to imagine such parental madness but a percentage of the men at the center come out of this mad distortion of human behavior. At one point a warm “peace-maker”, pictured below, speaks of the power of love only to be rebuked by the victim quoting the evils that have come to her through those that “love” her. It was a powerful and moving show with acting almost too real and graphic. I found myself yearning throughout much of the movie just to reach out and hold the victim, somehow to rescue her from her world of perversity. I think it is an adult movie that every adult Christian should see; it’s a peek into the sin crazed laboratory where drug abuse, violence, suicide and all manner of evils are birthed and conjured.

In the midst of what seems to be the overcoming power of naked evil, the movie is filled with subtleties where goodness and love begin to take root and feeble attempts to imitate them begin. To watch this movie is to share in "the sufferings of Christ" as He and all of heaven suffer as they watch this dramatic battle of good and evil play out. Watching this white field that desperately needs workers of love to come and rescue. Sadly the workers are few but even the little that is portrayed, and that by flawed servants, takes root.

Matt and Eric, I think you will both see this as a learning movie and come away with insights helpful in the work you do and have done.

Too disturbing for those under 18 in my opinion.

Pictures from the Internet

2010-03-28T13:35:00.000-07:00

I have been considering helping out in Sunday school again so I sat in today to see if there is a way to serve. It has been ten years since I have taught Sunday school and my body feels it.

So I wanted to watch today and after introductions to the class leader I did so and waited to see if the Lord would give me a clear indication. The first half all the children 4^th grade and under met together for review of last weeks lesson, a game tied in to the lesson and a video presentation of the new lesson. After that the children were split into graded classes and I chose third grade to continue my observation. There were about eight children and the class leader questioned them on the lesson and with all the third grade enthusiasm displayed, she finished the lesson. Then we went to play a game something like “Red Light Green Light”. One of the girls there, about seven years old named Claire, faced some mental and physical challenges; she couldn’t walk but she could crawl about with great speed and freedom. Her mental ability was about that of a five year old. She was a little over enthusiastic in all she said and did but she began to charm me. When we prepared for the game I decided to sit by her and help her to cross the line when her number was called so she wouldn't be last in each competition. As the game went on I thoroughly enjoyed helping her try and win; and we held our own.

I realized without my help she wouldn't have been able to compete, but with my help she may have even had an edge. At one point during the play she gave me a big hug and whispered, “I love you”. Well, need I say at that point I was all in.

Christ spoke to me through that tender little heart as clearly as if He stood before me and were to nod and approving, “Yes”.

Photo from the Internet

2010-03-25T21:18:00.000-07:00

I read a challenging excerpt from Carlyle’s “Sartar Resartus.” Don’t ask me what that means, but the piece was titled “Who Am I?” and he poses many interesting and impossible questions. The lines that intrigued me were prefaced by the following-

“but the reflex of our own inward force, the “phantasy of our dream; or what the earth-spirit in Faust names it, the living visible garment of God.

Now what he meant by this “living visible garment of God” I’m not sure, but I think he means something like Jesus with flesh on it or the true way we represent God by our actions in the world. The following poem illustrates this……I think.

“In Being’s floods, in Action’s storm,

I walk and work, above, beneath,

Work and weave in endless motion!

Birth and Death,

An infinite ocean;

A seizing and giving

The fire of the living;

‘Tis thus at the roaring loom of time I ply,

And weave for God the garment thou seest Him by.’

So I interpret this poem to mean that in floods and active storms of life, where I carry out my continual work and life of giving and receiving, applying what I learn of man and God, I weave for others to see what I consider to be a life of Christ likeness. Christ likeness being “the garment thou seest Him by.”

That’s my take on it.

Photo taken from the Internet

2010-03-21T13:06:00.000-07:00

I chose this picture of great expectation to set the stage for a description of a brother at the center. He is a late thirties man who has done many things; good and bad. He was successful in business and at one point had a car dealership; he also roamed the streets gang banging dodging bullets when younger; he has served in the church (I think as a youth pastor), and he was in strong man competition where he ultimately broke his back and became addicted to pain meds. Now he is in our program after losing everything material, but still has his marriage in tact.

So, what does the picture above have to do with this brother? I’ll tell you; if you were to have the chance to meet him, he would be of the mind set that the Holy Spirit had brought you to him and that the Holy Spirit was going to manifest Himself in some way at the meeting. I see him every morning, a mountain of a man, and he is handsome, composed, and friendly with a radio voice as he man’s the center’s phones. I look forward to talking with him because this spirit of anticipation permeates him with each encounter. He is there to do business with God and he has no doubt that each person that walks in the office is an opportunity to see God work. You can’t help but be drawn in by his amiable smile and eager anticipation. To tell you that God rewards his anticipation, words fail to express. Nearly every morning one of us, or both, ends up in tears or leaves with a heart full of God’s presence. He is child-like in his faith and God pours out blessing in return. This brother has truly left his mark on me and represents the scripture that exhorts us to be ready in season and out; he is genuine, low keyed and full of the Holy Spirit that splashes all over the office while he’s there.

What a blessing, what a blessing.

Photo by Vrindaavan Lila

2010-03-21T09:28:00.000-07:00

There is a law in physics to the effect that action is equal to reaction. The ball rebounds from the wall with precisely the force with which it was thrown against the wall. And if I approach a man with politeness I usually receive politeness.I get from this world a smile for a smile, a kick for a kick, love for love, and hate for hate.

If I am petulant, unrestful, irritable, unsatisfied, wretched, and bored – I know what the crop will be, and might have expected the harvest when I sowed that seed of self-indulgence, lack of will, moral cowardice, and general selfishness.

If I am lonely, it was I who drove hearts away.

If I am bitter, it was I who skimped the sugar-bowl.

The loving are beloved.

The generous are helped.

The considerate are considered.

The bully by and by is bullied, the smasher smashed.

And the end of the hog is the slaughterhouse.

I like this little piece because I'm always looking for practical quotes to share with the guys at the center. There is such a variety of personalities, but one thing they all have in common, self-absorption. I have to admit that a certain fella came to mind when I read "The bully by and by is bullied, the smasher smashed." And if this piece is true, his end is........well, not good.

Dr. Frank Crane, photo by formalArt

2010-03-06T08:12:00.000-08:00

I like this quote by John Newton; he is so free to share his weaknesses and his humble approach to the weaknesses we all share is refreshing. Here he speaks to the folly that fills our minds, even when we are in the most holy circumstances.

"Indeed, all situations and circumstances (supposing them not sinful in themselves, and that we are lawfully placed in them) are nearly alike. In London I am in a crowd, in the country I am sure there is a crowd in me. To what purpose do I boast of retirement, when I am pestered by a legion in every place? How often, when I am what I call alone, may my mind be compared to a puppet-show, a fair, a Newgate, or any of those scenes where folly, noise, and wickedness most abound! On the contrary, sometimes I have enjoyed sweet recollection and composure where I could have hardly expected it. But still, though the power be all of the Lord and we of ourselves can do nothing, it is both our duty and our wisdom to be attentive to the use of appointed means on the one hand, and on the other, watchful against those things we find by experience have a tendency to damp our fervor or to dissipate our spirits."

Painting by Mark Bryant

2010-02-22T19:23:00.000-08:00

"There is something about a stringed instrument that makes it more human than all others.

The violin has a soul. The voice of the violoncello is a spirit's cry.

A tone's a tone, of course, just as a man's a man; yet as some men have kingly and prophetic spirits, and some are but little better than animals, so some tones come all surrounded with suggestions, enclosing strange implications, attended by spiritual connotations, drenched with mystery, dripping with the waters of the infinite.

I wonder if it is the catgut? Does this fragment of a dead animal become the medium speaking to us the unknowable secrets of that darkness into which animal-souls go when the body dies?

When I hear a skillful cellist draw his bow across the string, the sound that penetrates me is not like that of a drum or a harp-string, but it is a veritable voice, the voice of one calling across the lake of tears in my heart."

This little essay comes from a book titled "Four Minute Essays" by Dr. Frank Crane.

I found it rummaging around antique stores last week on a trip to the coast. The post below this one comes from the same book. A delightful, thought filled little book, quite a find for six bucks.

Picture by Alexander Kharlamov

2010-02-22T18:53:00.000-08:00

There is no way to get the values of the countryside so good as walking. If you have a horse he gets in between you and the glory of the landscape, and if you whiz along the road in an automobile, you had as well, save for the fresh air, be at a moving picture show. Only when you walk do you get the personal, minute, and intimate acquaintance with nature.

It is even so in our intellectual life. When we think along with a political party, a religious sect, a literary cult, or an artistic school, we may be said to be traveling by train through the land of ideas. When we leave all groups and creeds and plunge alone into life’s problems, see and determine things for ourselves, and form our own tastes and persuasions, we may be said to walk.

There are times, perhaps most of the time, when we must perforce go by train; the affairs of society and the state being too complex for individual capacity. We must possibly vote the party ticket, go to church, join the literary crusade, and co-operate in this or that group; but we should reserve the right to go often upon an independent ramble.

“There are men,” writes Hamerton, “whose whole art of living consists in passing from one conventionalism to another, as a traveler changes his train. To them intellectual independence is unintelligible. Why go afoot when you may sit comfortably in a train, a rug around your lazy legs and your head resting softly in a corner?”

When I read this I thought about my friend Soto launching out on a new path alone, "upon an independent ramble." There is a certain degree of fright to it but that is overtaken by the fresh newness of it all and the energy that is generated by discovery and adventure. May he "walk" in green pastures.

2010-02-13T13:23:00.000-08:00

I was in my office yesterday morning typing out a quote to share with some of the guys at our daily meeting before work when there was a knock at my door and in came Soto with a brother new to the program. He had been praying with him upstairs because the new fellow was feeling discouraged, then he said, let me take you down to Fred and see if he has a word for you.” So as he entered and asked me I said, “Well imagine that, I’m just typing out that very word”.

Here’s that quote --

“God hath given his laws to rule us, his word to instruct us, his spirit to guide us, his angels to protect us, his ministers to exhort us. His mercies make our weak efforts instrumental to great purposes, as a small herb the remedy of the greatest diseases. He impedes the devil’s rage and although he allows him to walk in solitary places, and yet fetters him that he cannot disturb the sleep of a child; He hath given him mighty power, and yet a young maiden that resists him shall make him flee away; he hath given him a vast knowledge, and yet an ignorant man can confute him with the twelve articles of his creed; He gave him power over the winds, and made him prince of the air, and yet the breath of a holy prayer can drive him as far as the utmost sea….”

Jeremy Taylor, photo from the Internet

2010-02-06T09:47:00.000-08:00

The following two posts are taken from a book titled "The Imperial Highway", written in 1881. While working with the guys at the center, even though this book was written over a hundred years ago, I can't help but laugh when I see the same behaviors at the center. Certain men come immediately to mind, whom I will leave unnamed, but the pride and folly of man hasn't changed much with "evolution". Of course I saw nothing of myself in either of the posts...... ;)

"There are many kinds of idle young men. One can be seen almost any day haunting sunny benches or breezy piazzas. The real business of this fellow is to see; his desire, to be seen; and no one fails to see him, -- so gaudily dressed, his hat sitting aslant upon a wilderness of hair like a bird half startled from its nest, and every thread arranged to provoke attention. His is a man of honor; not that he keeps his word, or shrinks from meanness. He defrauds his laundress, his tailor, and his landlord. He drinks and smokes at other men’s expense. He gambles, and swears, and fights, -- when he is too drunk to be afraid; but still he is a man of honor, for he has whiskers, looks fierce, and wears moustaches."

I had to laugh at the line about "hair like a bird half startled".

Photos taken from the Internet

2010-02-06T09:45:00.000-08:00

"Another young fellow is rich, has a fine form and manly beauty, and the chief end of his life is to display them. With notable diligence he ransacks the shops for rare and curious fabrics, for costly seals, and chains and rings. A coat poorly fitted is the unpardonable sin of his creed. He meditates upon cravats, employs a profound discrimination in selecting a hat or a vest, and adopts his conclusions upon the tastefulness of a button or a collar, with the deliberation of a statesman.

Thus caparisoned, he saunters in fashionable galleries, or flaunts in stylish equipage, parades the streets with simpering belles, and delights their itching ears with compliments of flattery, or with choice-culled scandal. He is a reader of fiction, if it be not too substantial.

He is as corrupt in imagination as he is refined in manners; he is as selfish in private as he is generous in public; and even what he gives to another, is given for his own sake. He worships where fashion worships, today at the theater, tomorrow at the church, as either exhibits the whitest hand or the most polished actor. A gaudy, active and indolent flower, until summer closes, and frosts sting him, and then sinks down and dies unthought-of , unremembered, and unspeakably wretched."

2010-02-01T19:08:00.000-08:00

I thought I had written about one of the most alarming experiences I had at Teen Challenge about three months ago, but apparently I have not. It was a cold rainy day and the guys called me because a man about thirty was standing right outside of our front door barefooted in the rain and cold, and yelling at the cars as they drove by. He continued for some time when I reluctantly decided I needed to go out and see if I could help him; or at least get him to go away and stop running off all my customers. I asked the students to pray for me because he was a tall guy and I could see he was not in his right mind. I cautiously walked up to his side and asked him if he needed any help. He had a vacant look in his eyes, he was terribly thin and his speech was off in many directions but he was willing to come inside where it was warm and I promised to get him some dry socks for his shoes which were sitting on the sidewalk. Once he came inside about six of the brothers and I, circled him and tried to see if we could help. He was wasted on Meth or some other drug and half of what he said made no sense whatsoever. Luckily one of the visiting Pastors was at the center, and old fellow with lots of experience, so I had one of the guys go and get him, pronto! When Pastor Glen came, he and I led the fella to a more private spot in the store where we could sit down and talk. It was as though we were talking with the demon possessed man that Jesus talked with named “Legion; for many demons had entered him.” What was most alarming to me was that his head was filled with scripture, he quoted the Bible, talked about reaching the lost, spoke with boldness and yet he heart was absolutely vacant; nothing of God resided there, the drugs had cast out all that was holy and he was enslaved, bound with chains and shackles.

I noticed some cuts on his arms and asked him if he would mind pulling up his sleeves; he didn’t mind and he exposed cuts and scratches that covered his entire forearms. Hundreds on each arm. I asked him about it but he was oblivious and off telling me a mile a minute, how he goes into the adult book stores and preaches.

I have never felt more helpless and ill-equipped. None of us got anywhere with him and after the director of the center came to speak with him I bowed out feeling useless and disturbed by the horrid drug state that he was in and although I have seen old men who seemed to have lost their minds I have never seen a young man so mentally disturbed. Ultimately he went back out and disappeared down the street.

That was about three months ago and I have thought about that incident from time to time especially when guys are first admitted to the program and many look just horrible; scrawny, dirty, and lost.

As I was sitting in my office on Friday one of the guys brought a young man back to see me. He was a nice looking fella, big smile, bright eyed and bushy tailed about six feet tall and 190 pounds. He asked me if I remembered this man.

I didn’t think so but there was something about him that seemed familiar; turns out it was the same guy that I had tried to help three months ago. What a contrast! I could barely believe it was the same man. He was level headed, gained 40 pounds of muscle, now in a program and free of drugs. It was a miracle, I just couldn’t get over the contrast. I had to ask him, “What was it that caused you to change?”

He gave me a two word answer, “The law”. He then described how he was picked up by the police and put in jail where he could detox and be ministered to by a jail minister and re-dedicated his life back to Christ. It was an amazing transformation and I still can’t get over the change.

Photo by Stephen Oachs

2010-01-18T18:57:00.000-08:00

"A man of polite imagination is let into a great many pleasures, that the vulgar are not capable of receiving. He can converse with a picture, and find an agreeable companion in a statue. He meets with a secret refreshment in a description, and often feels a greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields and meadows, than another does in the possession.

It gives him, indeed, a kind of property in everything he sees, and makes the most rude, uncultivated parts of nature administer to his pleasures; so that he looks upon the world, as it were in another light, and discovers in it a multitude of charms, that conceal themselves from the generality of mankind."

I really enjoy Joseph Addison, considered to be the greatest literary mind of his time. This little piece comes from a chapter on imagination and he just wets my appetite and makes me want to reach out and do more creative things. No question in my mind that the arts, poetry and reading good books are so many tools to help us see deeper into our world and "discover in it a multitude of charms."

Picture from the Internet

2010-01-18T18:50:00.000-08:00

There are, indeed, but very few who know how to be idle and innocent, or have a relish of any pleasures that are not criminal; every diversion they take is at the expense of some one virtue or another, and their very first step out of business is into vice or folly. A man should endeavor, therefore, to make the sphere of his innocent pleasures as wide as possible, that he may retire into them with safety, and find in them such a satisfaction as a wise man would not blush to take. Joseph Addison

I chose this picture by Subir Basak to illustrate two of the innocent pleasures I enjoy most in life; children and water. This amazing picture captures both subjects in a most spectacular way.

2010-01-18T18:49:00.001-08:00

2010-01-09T11:12:00.000-08:00

I was on my son Eric’s blog looking up the post he wrote about being visited by angels unaware to share with a brother named Soto. The subject of the post was a Hispanic man and a large black woman, the one who crept in and the other who came in like a blustery wind to his church. Each stayed just long enough to be noticed, aided and then off they went to who knows where.

Soto loved the post and we discussed it a little. Then two days later, when I arrived at work, Soto hurried to me and told me that the evening before he and a friend went to Wendy’s to get a hamburger and when they took their seats they noticed what appeared to be a homeless man eating at a table alone. The man was entertaining himself with imaginary figures and movements with his hands all the while smiling and laughing in a very approving manner. As they put their food on the table they also noticed another apparent homeless person, this time an older woman with long coat and a pile of possessions wrapped in plastic bags.She was also busy entertaining herself with melodic conversation. As this scene was observed by Soto he began to sense a powerful presence of the Lord and a remembrance of the blog post I shared with him and he excitedly shared his thoughts and feelings with his friend who also began to sense the presence. During the dinner they made eye contact with both of the “angels” and as they left, Soto engaged the woman with a cordial word and blessing while his friend gave a gift to the homeless man.

This "chance meeting made a deep impression on Soto and just as if to seal the lesson, the next evening that very angel (woman), came into the Thrift store shopping. He rushed up to me eagerly and called me over to observe this woman. We greeted her heartily and I'm sure she had no idea why she was getting the royal treatment by us....... or did she?

Photo by Marjorie Smith

2010-01-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

I ran across the following quote the other day and was tempted to continue past it without a clue of what the author meant. But I decided not to let it get away that easily so I begin to poke and jab at it turning it on its side and rolling it around until I was determined to understand it. I worked on it with the aid of the dictionary for five or ten minutes until I captured his meaning. I enjoyed it so I decided to print out a dozen copies and give it to the guys at the center for something to do with idle time and the next morning we would talk about it. None but one was able to figure it out and I was with him as he read it, considered and then prayed for light. In less than three minutes he captured the meaning, and this man with only a sixth grade education!

“Be thou in the van of circumstances, yea, seize the arrow’s barb before the pent string murmurs.”

I felt that 1^st Corinthians 16:13 was a similar meaning.

2009-12-26T18:09:00.000-08:00

"There is but one method of attaining to excellence, and that is hard labor;

and a man who will not pay that price for distinction had better at once dedicate himself to the pursuits of the fox, or sport with the tangles of Neaera's hair, or talk of bullocks and the glory in the goad."

Sydney Smith

When I first ran across this quote it completely baffled me. The pursuits of the fox, tangles of Neaera's hair and glory in the goad went right over my head. But as I thought through it and looked up Neaera's hair I came to the conclusion he is saying; if we won't work we had better learn to be sly like the fox or find hiding behind others or learn to like being goaded all our life.

2009-12-26T18:03:00.000-08:00

In Henry Ward Beecher’s chapter titled Christ the Deliverer, he gives this practical story of the importance of personal involvement.

“Ah, are the Zebedees, then, so poor? John, take a quarter of beef and carry it down, with my compliments. No, stop; fill up that chest, put in those cordials, lay them on the cart, and bring it round, and I will drive it down myself.” Down I go; and on entering the house I hold out both hands, and say, “Why, my old friend, I am glad I found you out. I understand the world has gone hard with you. I came down to say that there is nothing wrong between you and me. We are on good terms, just as we always were. You have one friend, at any rate. Now do not be discouraged; keep up a good heart. I have brought you down a few articles for your comfort” And I empty all the things, and I see tears beating in his eyes, like rain on a pane of glass in summer; and I go away as soon as I can – for, hard as ingratitude is to bear, it is not so hard to bear as gratitude. And when I am gone, the man wipes his eyes, and says, “I did not know how I should feed my children, and I am thankful for the meat and the other things; but God knows that that man’s shaking my hands gave me more joy than all that he brought. It was him that I wanted.”

I tell you, when men are in trouble, it is the human soul that cures and feeds. It is one soul lying against another.

This was epitomized by the old prophet, when he went into the house where the widow’s son lay as one dead, and put his hands on the child’s hands, and stretched himself across the child’s body, and the spirit of life came back. Oh! If, when men are in trouble, there were some man to measure his whole stature against them, and give them the warmth of his sympathy, how many would be saved!

Photo from the Internet

2009-12-19T09:20:00.000-08:00

"When you see the men or women consecrated to severe tasks, or the painful office of visiting human miseries and binding wounds, remember that these beings are made like you, that they have the same needs, and that there are hours when they require pleasure and forgetfulness."

The following quote from Charles Wagner's book "The Simple Life", is such a practical word regarding placing our sympathies: the entire book is one that should be read by all.

"Offer your sympathy, also, to all who have absorbing occupations, and who are, so to speak, riveted to their places. The world is filled with sacrificed beings, who have never any rest or pleasure, and to whom the most modest interval of rest does them an immense good. And it would be so easy to secure this minimum of alleviation for them if one only thought of it.

But the broom is made to sweep with, and it seems that it cannot feel fatigue.

We must get rid of that culpable blindness which hinders us from seeing the weariness of those who are always in the breach. Lift up the sentinels lost in their duty; procure an hour for Sisyphus to breath in.

Take, for a moment, the place of the mother of a family whom the cares of the home and children enslave; sacrifice a little of our sleep to those who watch long hours by the bedsides of the sick. Young girl, whom perhaps going on a walk does not amuse, take the cook's apron and give her the "key to the fields."

Thus you will make others happy and be so yourself.

We walk forever by the side of beings loaded with burdens that we could take upon ourselves, even if only a little while. But this short pause would suffice to cure the evils, revive the joy almost stifled in many hearts, and open a large career to good will among men."

This fantastic photo taken by Anuar Patjane.

2009-12-19T08:57:00.000-08:00

Now the following piece convicts me because, as I have aged, I have lost much of my gaiety and frolicsome nature. I do have young grandchildren and so this piece applies to me as much as those with children still at home. I do think it is a timely and important reminder, written in 1904 by Charles Wagner in his important book "The Simple Life".

"In the next place I wish to ask you to observe that you are mistaken in imagining that young people amuse themselves too much. Apart from those fictitious, enervating and disuniting pleasures which blast the life instead of making it blossom and become radiant, there remains today but little.

Our children are the heirs of a world that is not gay. We give them the legacy of great cares, embarrassing questions, and a life loaded with shackles and complications. Let us at least make an effort to light the morning of their days. Let us organize pleasure, create shelters, and open our hearts and our homes. put the family into your game. Let gaiety cease to be a an imported commodity. Reunite our sons whom our morose inward manners drive into the streets, and our girls who grow weary of solitude. Let us multiply family gatherings, receptions and family excursions, lift good humor among us to the heights of an institution."

Photo from the Internet

2009-12-13T14:08:00.000-08:00

I happened upon this piece by Professor David Swing, and in it he encourages Americans to learn their native tongue thoroughly. I struggle so with all the authors he lists in this piece and although I don't know how far I would take his conclusions, it sure made me think.

The prevailing idea among the upper American classes that even their little children must learn French, and to that end must speak it at the table, is highly blamable, for reasons more than one. It is based upon entire ignorance of the fact that it will require the life-time of each mortal to master the language of his birth and country. All the young years given by Americans to the study of French are years turned away from the greatest language yet known to man. All the acquisitions of the human race, all the sciences, and arts, and histories, and sentiments of humanity have passed into the English tongue….. He that has perfectly mastered his own language has a store of information immense in bulk and rich in value. To excavate many channels for a river is to lessen the unity and power of the stream otherwise majestic. It will always be proof of some blunder of judgment, or of some stubborn vanity, when Americans will be found using a little French and German and Italian, who have not mastered the English of William Wirt, or of Tennyson, or of the eloquent Ruskin.

It is not a room full of violins, but the power to make music. It is therefore simply painful to hear a fashionable girl or woman or man combining several languages in conversation, when the listener knows well that this bright talker could not by any possibility compose an essay in the English of Washington Irving, or Charles Sumner, or the poet Whittier.

Even when a whole life is given to one’s native English or native French, so inadequate still is that language to express the soul, that it seems a form of wickedness to divide the heart between many masters, and to have no supreme friend. Chateaubriand, the greatest master of the French tongue, when he stood near the Niagara Falls almost a hundred years ago, ands saw evening coming down from the sky upon all the sublime scene; saw the woods growing gloomy in the deep shadows, and heard the sound of the waters increasing its solemnity as the little voices died away in the night’s repose, said: “It is not within the power of human words to express this grandeur of nature.” Skilled as he was in a most rich and sensitive form of speech, that speech , all of whose resources he knew so well, now failed him, and his spirit had to remain imprisoned, there being no gateway by which its sentiments could escape to the heart of his countrymen. What are you and I to do, then, if we have not loved early, and late, and deeply, our own English -- that English which is now the leader in literature and all learning; if we have not mastered its words, its elegancies, its power of logic, and humor, and pathos, and rhythm, and have not permitted our minds to become rich in its associations; if we have for years gone along with a heart divided in its love, or with a mind that has studied words more than has thought and prayed, and laughed, and wept, amid the sublime scenes of nature, or the more impressive mysteries of mankind? “Parlez vous Francais?” Not well; not at all; would to Heaven we could learn to speak English!

2009-12-12T10:54:00.000-08:00

I was reading a sermon by Rev. F.W. Farrar, who I have never read before, although I find I have a copy of his commentary on the life of Paul in my library. Anyway, this piece was on the moral conditions at the time of Christ and shortly thereafter; and the thought of the pagan moralists of the time, such as Seneca, Epictetus and Aurelius. The vivid descriptions of the brutality towards slaves during that time is horrific. Rev. Farrar is liberal in his thought and his conclusion was far more generous than I ever hear from the pulpit. I found it......merciful.

“The morality of paganism was, on its own confession, insufficient. It was tentative, where Christianity is authoritative; it was dim and partial, where Christianity is bright and complete; it was inadequate to rouse the sluggish carelessness of mankind, where Christianity came in with an imperial and awakening power; it gives only a rule, where Christianity supplies a principle.

And even where its teachings were absolutely coincident with those of Scripture, it failed to ratify them with a sufficient sanction; it failed to announce them with the same powerful and contagious ardor; it failed to furnish an absolutely faultless and vivid example of their practice; it failed to inspire them with an irresistible motive; it failed to support them with comfort, hope and happy immortality after a consistent and moral life.

Seneca, Epictetus, Aurelius, are among the truest and loftiest of pagan moralists, yet Seneca ignored the Christians, Epictetus despised, and Aurelius persecuted them. All three, so far as they knew any thing about the Christians at all, had unhappily been taught to look upon them as the most detestable sect of what they had long regarded as the most degraded and the most detestable of religions.

There is something very touching in this fact; but, if there be something very touching, there is also something very encouraging. God was their God as well as ours—their Creator, their Preserver, who left not Himself without witness among them; who, as they blindly felt after Him, suffered their groping hands to grasp the hem of His robe; who sent the rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with joy and gladness. And His Spirit was with them, dwelling in them, though unseen and unknown, purifying and sanctifying the temple of their hearts, sending beams of illuminating light through the gross darkness which encompassed them, comforting their uncertainties, making intercession for them with groaning which can not be uttered. And more than all, our Savior was their Savior, too; He, whom they regarded as a crucified malefactor, was their true, invisible King; through His righteousness their poor merits were accepted, their inward sicknesses were healed; He whose worship they denounced as an “execrable superstition,” stood supplicating for them at the right hand of the Majesty on high.”

Photo from the Internet.

2009-12-12T09:48:00.000-08:00

I ran across the picture of this woman, who I believe is from Ethiopia, and was captured by her beauty and interesting ethnic style. I have seen many photos of those from this people group and the red soil which they incorporate in their beauty styles is so unique. It makes no difference where in the world people are from, a sense of beauty is valued by all. The woman below is doubtless very proud of her latest fashion as well.

Top photo by Heinz Homatsch, bottom photo by Justin Grant.

2009-12-11T09:44:00.000-08:00

"Do you not know how many things you can do under personal influence that you cannot in any other way? My father said to me, when I was a little boy, “Henry, take these letters and go down to the Post Office with them.” I was a brave boy; and yet I had imagination. And thousands of people are not as cowardly as you think. Persons with quick imaginations, and quick sensibility, people the heavens and the earth, so that there are a thousand things in them that harder men do not think of and understand. I saw behind every thicket some shadowy form; and I heard trees say strange and weird things; and in the dark concave above I could hear flitting spirits. All the heaven was populous to me, and the earth was full of I know not what strange sights. These things wrought my system to a wonderful tension. When I went pit-a-pat along the road in the dark, I was brave enough; and if it had been anything that I could have seen, if it had been anything that I could have fought, it would have given me great relief; but it was not. It was only a vague, outlying fear. I knew not what it was. When father said to me, “Go,” I went – for I was obedient. I took my old felt hat, and stepped out of the door; and Charles Smith (a great thick-lipped black man, who worked on the farm, and who was always doing kind things) said to me, “Look here, I will go with you.” Oh! Sweeter music never came out of any instrument than that. The heaven was just as full, and the earth was just as full as before; but now I had somebody to go with me. It was not that I thought he was going to fight for me. I did not think there was going to be any need of fighting, but I had somebody to lean on; somebody to care for me; somebody to help and succor me. Let anything be done by direction, let anything be done by thought or rule, and how different it is from its being done by personal inspiration.”

There's a lot about this little story that tickles me, but what strikes me most is the sweet music that Charles Smith made to this youngster. It takes me back to my boyhood and memories of my uncle Jack, who would play this music to my ears on so many occasions. Whether it was something I feared or just to eliminate boredom, his company meant so much to me. The power of personal presence, it just cannot be over estimated.

Henry Ward Beecher - Photo by Taci Yuksel

The name above every name

2009-12-11T09:13:00.000-08:00

"If the God that you beheld in imagination when you were converted, before whom you fell down rejoicing, and to whom you surrendered yourself, is the best that you have, woe to you! You have not grown since you came out of the nursery, and you stand in the orchard of truth without growth. A true man has a better and better God every year."

H. W. Beecher

2009-12-11T08:54:00.000-08:00

So it is in respect to dispositions, and in respect to character at large. Little cracks, little flaws, little featherings in them, take away their exquisiteness and beauty, and take away that fine finish which makes moral art. How many noble men there are who are diminished, who are almost wasted, in their moral influence! How many men are like the red maple! It is one of the most gorgeous trees, both in spring, blossoming, and in autumn, with its crimson foliage. But it usually stands knee-deep in swamp-water.

To get to it, you must wade or leap from bog to bog, tearing your raiment, and soiling yourself. I see a great many noble men, but they stand in a swamp of faults. They bear fruit that you would fain pluck, but there are briars and thistles and thorns all about it; and to get it you must make your way through all these hindrances.

Faults are also dangerous, in their own way, because they have insect fecundity. They are apt to swarm. And though a few of them may not do much harm, when men come to have a great many of them they will avail as much as if they were actual transgressions. It is not necessary that there should be wolves, and lions, and bears in the woods to drive hunters out of them. Black flies, mosquitoes, or gnats will drive them out, if there are enough of them. These little winged points of creation make up what they lack in individual strength by their enormous multitude. You might kill a million, and make no impression upon them. Faults oftentimes swarm and become strong and dangerous by reason of their multitude. Multitude, in such cases is equivalent to power.

This little piece really made me stop and ponder. Ouch.

Henry Ward Beecher - picture from the Internet

2009-12-05T10:45:00.000-08:00

The following advice is from the book "Our Home" written in 1899 by Charles E. Sargent, M.A. I think its still pretty good advice for our modern times.

Home as a natural institution has for its primary object the nurturing of those tender buds of promise which can mature in no other soil. The human bud, unlike that of the flower, does not contain its future wholly wrapped up within itself, but depends much upon the hand that nurtures it. The rosebud, no matter in what soil it grows, no matter what care it receives, must blossom into a rose. No care or neglect, at least in any definite period of time, can transform it into a noxious week. But on every mother’s bosom there rests a bud of promise, and whether or not that promise shall be fulfilled depends on her. Whether that bud shall blossom into a pure and fragrant rose or into the flower of the deadly nightshade, is at the option of the guardian.

Let every mother act as if she held a bud of promise. Let those who have not felt the premonition attribute it to their insensibility. Better a thousand times bestow your tenderest care upon an idiot, better believe that you held the bud of genius and awake to bitter disappointment, than to learn in the end that you have failed to do your duty, and that a genius grand and awful like a fallen temple lies at your feet in the pitiful impotence of manifest but unused power.

The crying sin of modern parents is their unwillingness to let their children grow. They wish to transform them all at once from prattling infants into immortal geniuses. They have more faith in art than in Nature, in books and schoolrooms than in brooks and groves.

Painting by Elizabeth Nourse

2009-12-05T10:11:00.000-08:00

I was reading a chapter titled "The Education of Our Boys, in a book called Our Home and he is describing the values of education, natural and academic; and after offering hope that most can find a way for an education, the author offers principles to those who are the least likely to get educated --

“At any rate, all may become well educated. Those men are almost numberless who have become great and useful by the light of a pine torch, who have learned the science of mathematics with a stick for a pencil and the ocean beach for a slate.

But suppose we meet the barefoot boy in the street picking rags, what word of advice have we for him? He will listen to all our fine talk about grand possibilities which are offered to the poorest and the worthiest in our great communities; he will listen to the story of those great souls who have climbed to glory over fence rails and canal boats; and when we have finished he will meet us with the question, “What shall I do and how shall I begin?”

Let us see if we can answer these questions. As the first step toward the desired result, he can pick up a rag, just as he has been wont to do, and examine it, not as heretofore with the simple purpose of determining whether he shall put it into one or the other of two baskets; but he can make it a text-book with which to begin an education. He can ask those older and wiser than himself what it is made of and how it is made. They will point him to the great mill yonder, where, if he tells his purpose, he can gain admission and learn something of the mechanical principles involved in the manufacture of the rag. If he continues to make inquiries until he can trace a piece of cotton through all its transformations, till it comes out a piece of fine bleached cotton, he has surely begun an education in earnest. He can save a penny a day for a few days and buy a primer, and with that primer under his arm he may politely approach any lady or gentleman with these words, “I am determined to make the most of myself. I want to learn to read. I have bought a little book. Can you give me any advice or help?”

There is not a man or woman in all that great city with a heart so hard as not to be melted to sympathy by that appeal. He would be astonished at the amount of love and sympathy and philanthropy in the world which he before had considered so cold and heartless.

Young man, -- bootblack, rag-picker, obscure farmer boy, or dweller in the dingy haunts of the city, -- remember that Freedom’s goddess holds over your head a crown. But she never puts that crown on any but a sweaty brow, -- the royal symbol of effort and worth.”

I found this picture of Anne Sullivan and Helen Keller on the internet and found it so charming and full of devotion. Her story certainly verifies the authors principles.

The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth

2009-11-15T16:05:00.000-08:00

There are three generic conditions under which a man may hold his soul.

The first is where those instincts and passions which belong to our animal nature, and whose normal sphere is upon the material globe, predominate, and give tone to character. Under such circumstances, men are always sensual, -- fleshly, in scripture language. They live by the force of their material organization.

But as men come under better influences, there grows up an intermediate state, a mixed character, in which force alternates with higher and better feelings. Under great excitement, the physical qualities predominate; but in times of quiet, and away from temptation, there grow up milder influences, nobler sentiments. The result is that there is an occasional outburst of feeling, and also an occasional experience of sweetness and peace. It is, in such circumstances, an alternating condition of the mind, which results in great strife and conflict between the one part and the other – between the higher and the lower nature. And the greater part of men in civilized countries live in this intermediate condition, in which the animal is not predominate, and in which the spiritual is not predominate, but in which sometimes one and sometimes the other rules, neither having free course.

Then there is a final state – the highest we know of – that in which the moral sentiments completely rule. When these higher qualities give expression to the whole life—to the face, to the tone of the voice, to the language; where they surround the very soul, as with an atmosphere; where the whole nature is saturated with faith, hope, love—with truth, equity, benevolence – there is an air given to men, of strength in gentleness, of courage in sweetness, of activity in tranquility, of will without obstinacy, of self-confidence without conceit.

All these qualities may exist in the individual, and over them all there shall be a luminous refinement, a spiritual glow, which saves the soul from the charge of insipidity and flatness, and gives it authority and vitality. When the soul is completely under the dominion of these spiritual emotions, it shines. It impresses all that come near it. It rules whatever is within its sphere. In short, the spiritual is to become supreme in authority. And that which makes us men- not that which makes us animals – gives the color and tone to the whole life and character.

It is the atmosphere of the spiritual nature of man, or that appearance and those qualities which we see when the man is under complete control of his higher moral sentiments, which is what Jesus meant by “meekness”.

Matt, when I read this I immediately thought of the woman who was director at the AIDS orphanage where you took Carissa and I. I think so many of these qualities were evident in her.

2009-11-14T09:01:00.000-08:00

I love to read Robert Louis Stevenson for pure entertainment. His insight into people just tickles me and he is always busy looking into the quirks and differences in people. Here he is talking about a good friend while they are on an ocean liner trip.

"If he had one taste more strongly than another, it was to study character. Many an hour have we two walked upon the deck dissecting our neighbors in a spirit that was too purely scientific to be called unkind; whenever a quaint or human trait slipped out in conversation; you might have seen Jones and me exchanging glances; and we could hardly go to bed in comfort till we had exchanged notes and discussed the day's experience. We were then like a couple of anglers comparing a day's kill. But the fish we angled for were of a metaphysical species, and we angled as often as not in one another's baskets. Once, in the midst of a serious talk, each found there was a scrutinizing eye upon himself; I own I paused in embarrassment at this double detection; but Jones, with a better civility, broke into a peal of unaffected laughter, and declared, what was the truth, that there was a pair of us indeed."

2009-11-14T07:56:00.000-08:00

I ran across this quote by Robert Louis Stevenson where he was, as always, busy contemplating the nature of men. Here he makes some intriguing comments about the reformed drunkard whose life and identity is wrapt up in abstinence.

"Hence the comparative success of the teetotal pledge; because to a man who had nothing it sets at least a negative aim in life. Somewhat as prisoners beguile their days by taming a spider, the reformed drunkard makes an interest out of abstaining from intoxicating drinks, and may live for that negation. There is something, at least, not to be done each day; and a cold triumph awaits him every evening.”

I had to think that through a few times, visualizing a prisoner taming a poisonous spider, so at least at the end of the day he could say he was not bitten, which is some “cold triumph” that he can feel good about. Now the drunkard or drug addict is not the only one who becomes preoccupied in negatives; I ran across this quote about Christianity that is equally as stinging –

“Mr. Mills says, in his book on Liberty, that “Christian morality is in great part merely a protest against paganism: its ideal is negative rather than positive, passive rather than active.”

So my point; the recovering addict, who has made tea totaling his goal and his only goal, to abstain from the bite of abusing again, it becomes the focus and can be the entire goal of life to abstain, or as Stevenson puts it, “He may live for that negation.” So at least at the end of the day, although he has done nothing for others, he has, at least, this cold triumph. Now initially this is a most commendable goal, but at some point one must move on to living a positive life with offensive goals, concerns for others and not just saving one’s own soul or sobriety.

So in like manner, Mills quote that Christianity has reduced itself, in large part, to merely a protest against paganism, is the same principle, isn’t it? We do little to change the world, but we protest much, be it political issues, school policies, permitted words and lyrics, and of course those nasty agendas of the “gays”.

So in our idle time we boast of not being bitten by the spider, and with great conviction protest the ungodliness of the day, but booing the rival team that is carrying the ball will never win the game. One must play offense as well as defense.

Freaky picture of the black widow taken from the Internet, man spiders freak me out.

The Name above every name

2009-11-08T14:23:00.000-08:00

"Now when we are calculating God’s goodness, we must take measure by the family, according to Christ’s own declaration. On one occasion he taught the disciples on this very matter. He said to them, after giving them some other instruction, “if ye being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him!” What is the exact logical position here? When you argue from a man to God, you are accustomed to say, “Ah! That is not a fair argument – God is a different being.” “No,” says Christ, “take whatever is good in man and argue that God is not only that, but infinitely better than that. In fashioning your conception of God, make it as resplendent in justice, as august in truth, as noble and pure in love, as radiant and wondrous in pity, and as enduring as you please. Never be afraid that you will over draw the divine character. God is never better in your thought or imagination than he is in himself. You may pile on, and pile on, as much as you please, and your descriptions of God will not transcend, but will come short of, the reality. When you heart is warmest, when it is noblest when it is truest, when it is best, when it flashes out its ideal conceptions of God, that ideal is far more likely to be near the truth than one that is coldly, critically, philosophically deduced from definite premises. For God’s nature really outruns the human capacity for reasoning."

This piece affirms thoughts I began developing a number of years ago. I believed the emotions of compassion within men's hearts was a God given thing and that His level of compassion must far exceed ours. I saw within me a repulsion to see anything suffer, be it man or beast. How then can one reconcile this with the doctrine of eternal torment?

Henry Ward Beecher - Painting by Norman Rockwell.

2009-11-01T08:20:00.000-08:00

“Now, in the midst of this vast and ever-unwearied breaking of the surge on the shore of experience, how cheerful, how joyous are the words of God!

There is one reason why the Bible will never be upset just as long as the world lasts. You may prove to me that there is no such thing as inspiration; you may prove that this Book was dug out of a rock; you may destroy the prophet’s authority; you may take from the apostles their authority; you may take away the theory that the Bible came in any sense from God. Yet there is that in this Book which will keep it intact and make it potential as long as there is a heart to feel sorrow or to beat with hope. It is its humanity. It is its courage. It is the might and power of its love. It is the vast sympathy which wraps mankind as the atmosphere wraps the globe.

It is its thought and care for men in all their wants. For the poor, the needy, the weak, the helpless, the crying, the sighing, the discouraged, the down-trodden, the unvictorious, the captives, little children, mighty monarchs, peasants, nobles – for all men – there is here a throb and a yearning. There are thousands of blessings held out to them – strength, bread, fruit, water, wine, swords, spears – everything for humanity—whatever they need in their masterly struggles in this world. This Book is an ark into which men will run, as long as the world stands, for succor and consolation. And who should have made such a Book as this, as a way cast up on which “the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads,” if it be not God?”

I love this quote by Henry Ward Beecher; it describes my feelings so well. "It is its humanity", displayed in every loving way Christ talked and walked among men. Let them say what they will, He walked into my life hearing "a throb and a yearning", and I can never deny it.

Photo by Krzysztof Buchowicz