The State of the Union..........."

With nothing on TV other than re-runs and the National Democratic Convention, the wife usurped my computer privileges last night. Actually, I usually relinquish my addiction to the Internet under such circumstances, realizing her only other form of amusement is also contained within “the OTHER tube”. Yahtzee. Solitaire. We’ve a dozen or so of such pastime and I readily admit to enjoying one or two of them myself. As far as being displaced, however, the only inconvenience it affords me is if I happen to be in the middle of composing something at the time. Utilizing a notebook to compose is a little more complicated than typing in Microsoft. Every few sentences or so, the words just don’t “feel” right and the pile of discarded paper around the trash can begins to grow. For whatever reason, however, on this occasion my mind was void of any particular subject and, with both the crossword puzzles and the two books I’m reading scheduled for bedtime, I plopped into the easy chair and began clicking the remote myself………….

Beth’s aversion to all the political hoopla had much to do with the fact that she is a dedicated fan of President Bush. My own disinterest falls more along the lines of being solidly convinced that, no matter who occupies the White House, it has little to do with the state of national affairs. A two-party system is a two-party system; and if one caters to big business, it’s just as true that the other is enjoying their share of graft via any number of individual concerns. Any dedicated research into what our tax dollars are actually supporting quickly proves that Congressmen, no matter what their affiliation, long ago left any sincere intent of “serving” their constituents in the sense of representing the “common” people. Then, again, I’m almost of the opinion that things like “integrity” and “ethics” are lost values to the majority of our society anymore. We seem to elect our officials merely by their charisma and our allegiance to whichever side of the circus we, ourself, belong…………..

Harsh words, I know, and out of the pen of one who does not vote. I speak them, however, not because I do not believe in my country, but because I do not believe in where we are as a nation of individuals. Some, no doubt, would point their finger in my direction and accredit my abstinence from the polls as part of the problem. That could be; but if all the local market had to sell me was rotten apples, they wouldn’t have my business long, either. Is the government nothing but a bunch of crooks? It depends on your definition, I suppose. My boredom last night landed upon some sort of historical documentary of Clinton’s years in the White House. In refreshing my memory on a few things probably better off forgotten, whoever produced it was unbiased. The show interviewed fans and foes, alike. When Jennifer Flowers, though, referred to his coming to her one evening very elated over his “Biblical” discovery that the act which he would commit with Monica was NOT “sin”, his apparent ignorance as to the definition of “sex” was made clear to me. It’s all in how you read the “letter of the Law”, I suppose………………

By the Book.............."

The world outside my window the last few mornings has been overcast. Cloudy; and quite cool for the middle of July. A persistent rain has continued to play hopscotch across the Tri-State, but, for some reason, has visited this particular area only overnight for the most part. There is the hint of a breeze. While both the magnolia and the pines seems as if painted before me, the young maple which I planted in the yard of the old house several years ago betrays such notion. Still, though gray and wet at the moment, it is my time of day. The rest of the household is asleep and I sit at the kitchen table with the dog curled up at my feet. Soon enough the grandsons will be either watching some repeat Sponge Bob episode for the umpteenth occasion or maneuvering clever Play Station characters through a maze of hoops and deadly pitfalls. The wife will arise and a list of places for us to go, things for me to do. For the present, however, all is peaceful and my mind is my own. A cup of hot coffee and all of His goodness to explore. It doesn’t get any better than this………….

I mentioned in a recent post how the author, Anne Lamott, claimed her best prayers were “Help me!” and “Thank You!”. People, I suppose, have varied opinions on the subject ; but, personally, while I believe that God hears any and every sincere heart, I would never attempt such communication if I didn’t perceive there to be a chance of Someone actually “picking up on the other end” and giving evidence that “the call was going through”. Indeed, it is because I find such success on occasion that there is faith created to give me reason to continue in the endeavor. Add to that bit of blasphemy the fact that not all my “prayers” take place while I am positioned in some customary prescribed format dictated by the ecclesiastical society at large. Then tack on the truth that they are not merely a matter of bombarding heaven with a list of my concerns. Prayer, it has always seemed to me, is as much about listening and examining oneself as it is about anything else; and that can be accomplished in just about any “quiet place” that a man makes for himself………….

Someone else, on another site, suggested that “The Gospel is good news because, among other things, it promises a life outside ourself”. Unable to locate the content in which such thought was presented, I can only assume the speaker means that in the sense of looking beyond our own individual concerns as we reach out unto others. There is, no doubt, a blessing in selflessness, but it would silly to presume that ignoring our own “inner man” is what Christ intended by that directive. Irregardless of what some may teach, the second birth doesn’t necessarily instantly transform a believer into a model of perfect spiritual health. While there is, indeed, often a “deliverance” that takes place in one way or another, yet we are “new creatures” only in the sense that He has taken up residence within us and we are made “whole” only in as much as we allow Him to minister unto us in those areas that have taken root within who and what we are. Inviting the “doctor” in didn’t give us a “quick fix”; healing via continued visitations is normal; and, humanity being humanity, regular “check-ups” are a life-time recommendation………….

Son-bathing............."

"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness"……Matthew 6:22-23



The above two verses are where Tony and I found common ground for a message this last Wednesday evening at the Rescue Mission. The word "single" has Greek roots which imply a "twisting together of two things (such as pipe-cleaners or strands of rope) until they become as one". With that as a basis, he took an external approach, pointing to a Brother Lawrence theme of trying to find God in anything and everything. I, on the other hand, took such definition inward. Scripture declares, in one place, that the spirit of a man is "the candle of the Lord" and, in another, that there is a Higher Power which "lighteth every man that cometh into the world". While, in the natural sense, there is no need for but a solitary wick, yet I find the Bible to proclaim all of mankind born with a double portion of that particular commodity and if all we’re navigating by is but that one act of combustion, we’re in trouble. That which was extinguished by Adam in the Garden needs to be re-kindled if there is to be any real peace or purpose to our life and, what’s more, I believe it quite possible to look into a man’s eyes and discern what, indeed, is "burning in his belly". Discouragement, Defeat. Hunger. Hope. The "illumination", thereof, tells the story………….

When the Bible, in the Book of Acts, asserts that "there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved", I believe it merely informing us that there is no other way to be "rescued from darkness". When Jesus, Himself, announce such fact unto the disciples in the Gospel of John and concludes that "no man cometh unto the Father but by me", I do not find that He is condemning all humanity to hell unless they accept the terms of being "born-again". Rather He was giving testimonial to the truth that He, alone, possessed the potential to re-connect us to the Creator by "igniting the second pilot". He was telling humanity that any genuine tug on an individual’s heart to draw them closer to God, whether they realized it or not, is originated in Him. The response to the invitation, of course, is another matter. The choice always rest within our own volition. We can refuse and walk away. We can receive the addition and then do no more than warm our hands by the fire now and then. We can bow down before that which is greater, "lose ourself" within its flame, and have the "eyes of our understanding enlightened"..………..
While I recognize that all Christian theology must rest within the framework of the written Word, yet I know it to be also possible for us to interpret its pages solely by our own reasoning. What that amounts to is "religion"; but we do it, nonetheless, and we do it often. What I have learned, however, in my own journey, is that our reluctance to draw nigh unto the Light in no way hinders the call of Christ to "Come". It matters not if one is yet void of the "hook-up", newly re-united with the service, or a long-time "customer with a contract". When a young man taking a shower suddenly discovers himself drenched in something other than the water, HE was in the experience. When a five-year old boy comes down from a tree somehow different in his mental image of God, HE was out on the limb with him. When a mother of two boys, again and again, is healed of inner wounds, HE is the "on-duty" surgeon in ER. I am even convinced that when a Jewish lawyer became burdened while driving down the road, HE was involved, somehow, in her decision to pull over and talk with her Maker about it. We grow as we go; and Judgement Day, in my opinion, anyhow, will be more about how much we hungered to know Him than it will about our success at adhering to doctrine………….

Whoops!............."

This month, for the first time in a looooong time, the third Sunday of the month preceded the third Wednesday of the month. That fact probably holds trivial significance for most people, but when those two points on the calendar are individually assigned to you for ministry at two different locations, the reversing of their order can produce consequences. It took a last minute phonecall from a friend to awaken me this last weekend to it being our turn to provide morning worship at the Youth Detention Center. The news was not all that alarming. With six of us presently participating in such outreach, we have eliminated the practice of “designated hitters”. There is no program. No one, in particular, is scheduled to deliver a sermon. We simply come together and allow the Holy Ghost to speak, sing, or move in any way He wishes. Everyone gets opportunity to “empty their vessel” as the Spirit so directs. Preparation, for the most part, amounts to meeting in the parking lot of a local business area about an hour before departure and sharing what’s on our hearts. What we discuss may not come forth in the service, but, by stirring the waters, hopefully the overflow will be contagious and meet the needs of the kids. Sunday went well…………...

It is basically the same group, then, who contribute to “church” down at the Rescue Mission, and we operate there in much the same manner minus the “get-together” beforehand. What changed the “routine”, on this occasion, was discovering, Tuesday, that circumstances would reduce our number to three. The fellow “in charge”, thinking that there would be a need to “occupy” a longer period of such time as allotted to us, threw the challenge in my lap. His request, however, did not produce fear. I merely jotted down a few notes on a subject “tossed around” in my car with another man as we waited for the others to arrive Sunday. You can imagine my reaction, though, when THAT person began to speak just prior to my own appointed place on the slate and referred to the same chapter and verse from which I intended to address this same “congregation”! His views were not necessarily my own. What do you do now?……………

Actually, though somewhat surprised, I was not all that shaken. If God was, indeed, the REAL orchestrator of the whole affair, then surely He was able to bring it all into perspective. There was certainly nothing wrong with what Tony was presenting. Tony ALWAYS “feeds my soul”. I listened. I enjoyed. And when he finished, I stepped in behind him well aware that there was less than ten minutes left. I saw no need to drown people in an over-abundance of Bible. I spoke but a few sentences tying my own thoughts to what had been already said and then led us into an altar call. Actually, we ended the evening with a song I had brought with me. Its words seemed to “seal” the whole point we had tried to make. As I sang, men prayed and the room was as one. To appreciate that, you have to understand that my voice is not all that great. I found out long ago, nonetheless, that little is much if God is in it. HE is the Healer, not I…………….

Similarities............."

ALFRED EDERSHEIM (1825 – 1889) was born in Vienna to Jewish parents and was converted to Christianity as a young man while studying in England. One of the leading authorities of his time regarding the doctrines and practices of Judaism in the centuries preceding and during the early Christian era, he was recommended to me by a friend nearly ten years ago. I purchased a copy of his work, “The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah”, but found it so “deep” that, for the most part, it served me merely as a reference piece. It was not until, as so often happens with my library, it was loaned and lost that I became aware of just how much it fed me; so, in purchasing a second copy, this time I’ve sat down to earnestly pursue a journey through it from its beginning. The volume is actually five books in one and, at present, I am about to complete the eighth chapter. That only leaves me EIGHTY-eight to go. While I realize that any author is able to gather “facts” merely from those sources which support his own point of view, yet I find myself both amused and fed by the historical picture Mr Edershein paints of God’s “chosen people”. In so many ways, what he describes, as far as I’m concerned, is but a mirrored image of the Church………………

The singularity of the Jew is found in Mr. Edersheim’s statement that “without their religion, they had no history; and without their history, no religion”. The passion of such people was determined, in his view, by the idea that, while as a nation the vast majority of which was dispersed over the whole inhabited earth, yet its heart beat in Jerusalem and thence the life-blood passed to its most distant members”. The Eastern Orthodox Jew is presented as being absorbed with his study of the Law and the thought that “God created the world on account of Israel, it having been in His plans not only before anything had actually been created, but even before every other creative thought”. Though “their good deeds should be few, yet by cumulating them from among all the people, they would appear great in the end and God would exact payment for their sins as a man does from his friends, a little at a time”. On the other hand, the Western “Hellenistic” Jew, finding himself so greatly distanced from the core of what they held to be sacred, began to be more concerned with “the future of the world” rather than the homeland. More and more, while the substance of their faith remained tied to the basic elements of a common creed, yet their tendency to find the ancient documents “full of symbolism” separated the two camps………….
..
It was Chaim Potok’s fictional account of “The Chosen” that first awakened me to the reality of the modern-day Jews, though tied together with “the old school” by an ethnic thread no matter where dispersion may have rooted them elsewhere, were as “denominationally” divided in their doctrines as Christianity is within its own ranks. The whole scenario concerning BOTH religious factors, for that matter, long ago settled in my mind as but giving evidence, not so much as to “their” being blind to the Messiah having already, at least in part, fulfilled prophecy, but to just how much humanity in its entirety can make a mess out of God’s grace. What Jesus brought unto the world was not another book to be sliced, diced, and then reinvented to be used as some point to govern who and what we are. He renewed the possibility for a man to once again “walk in the garden” with his Creator. He broke down the walls of the sanctuary and extended unto every hungry heart the opportunity to step behind the veil and touch the hem of His garment. Now, even as it always has been, salvation is not determined by what “thus sayeth the ecclesiastical institution”, but by the thirst in each and every individual to know God for themself. Let it be acknowledged that, even having experienced the “second birth”, a man can yet “have eyes and see not”……………..

Knock! Knock! Who's There?............"

Stripped of my computer for at least one MORE week, I found myself at the oldest daughter’s house the other day absorbing, for the second time, Matt’s list of challenges unto a new church about to be birthed. While beautifully written and rich with much good advice, as far as I’m concerned, yet there was, as there usually is in such matters, room for discussion in some areas. The truth of that was quickly manifested when, at one point, I verbally expressed my enjoyment of the “meal” my young friend was serving me. My enthusiasm caught the daughter’s attention and she inquired as to the reason for such outburst. In reading her a few of his thoughts, however, it soon became quite obvious that she did not share my view of what was “spread upon the table”. We didn’t argue nor “come to blows” in any manner, but it did seem she was taking my pleasure with his opinions as an attack upon our own assembly and the whole moment came to conclusion when she posed me a question regarding his version of the Apostle Paul’s list in Galatians of just who are “all one in Christ”. Ignoring his mention of sinners, agnostics, and atheists, she went straight for the homosexual proposal and asked, “Would YOU want one teaching your grandsons in school?”............

I “broke camp” and went home; but, no matter what one’s opinion, it shouldn’t be all that hard to understand her attitude. Surely the last few years in this country have opened our eyes and alerted us more than ever to the risks involved in entrusting our children to the care of others. Yet, even as I said to her before I left, just how sure can we be that we really KNOW what is going on inside the head of ANY individual out there? Male or female. Principal or priest. Is there any sort of “lock” that defines just who is more apt to violate the innocence of my grandchildren in some way? While I do not consider the condition, in any form, but “another lifestyle” and I DO take issue with the morality of same-sex relationships, I do NOT find all who are so inclined to be stalking kids in order to clone themselves. It is a matter of historical record that our own congregation did, indeed, hire one such young man and did so with knowledge of his past. The employment was instituted solely on the basis of his conversion at our altar one Christmas and he taught our Upper Learning Center for something like four years. While he eventually relapsed into former habits and resigned, you’d have a hard time locating anyone among his former students who doesn’t speak well of him on all accounts and he's yet a good friend. I pray for him often............

I realize there is wisdom to be sought in such matters and, even as I commented to Matt on his site, there is certainly some things we could sit down and “toss around”. If all we’re putting forth is a call to the Church to extend its grace unto more than those who are willing to accept their denominational tenets, then I am agreed that, as the Body of Christ, we have drastically failed in that department for the most part. We too often approach other faiths even as we do those other “unsavory elements” posted on his list, as targets to be converted rather than as candidates to receive God’s love. Then, again, others simply embrace the more forgiving nature of the Gospel and throw common sense out the window. When believers on either side of those statements fail to acknowledge that the “Mind of Christ” is a supernatural possibility unto us, we usually remain pretty much as we were beFORE Christ, eating from our own tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Forget reaching out to the world around us. We can’t even reach out to the guy on the pew beside us. It’s easier to “play the game” than it is to reveal our own secrets. Easier to live by our own fears than it is to give them to Him. God save us all……………….

Compass-ology................"

Interstate 75, a few miles south of where it plunges from the Kentucky hills to cross the Ohio River into Cincinnati, is intersected by a beltway even as most larger cities nowadays. If you turn east on it, it, too, descends, but at a much slower pace. Once you’ve reached “bottom”, however, you’ll find access to “my neck of the woods”. Travelling north for whatever reason, though, there are several other options before one reaches that point by which they might take the back roads and still reach my address. We call them “shortcuts”, but, in truth, by the time you consider other factors such as speed limits, stoplights, and two-lane pavements that snake through the countryside, unless there’s a motive for the detour, it isn’t much worth the effort. Nonetheless, the other night I found myself returning late from Winchester with a young passenger whose own destination determined it to be prudent to take such route; and what I discovered in the darkness was: Even though you’ve lived in an area all your life and think you know it like the palm of your hand, it doesn’t take long for progress to have you scratching your head and wondering where in the world you are. Even more, life, itself, is like that. You turn a corner and suddenly find yourself in need, not only of an anchor for your soul, but also a voice to lead you home……………..

When I left for Florida a few weeks ago, a friend was trying to put definition to the Biblical claim that Jesus “gave Himself a ransom for many”. While I both identify and applaud his thirst for truth, yet I find it almost amusing that the Church, as a whole and after nearly two thousand years, has not been able to do more in that area that to provide its constituents with, as my own pastor preached this last Sunday morning, “a list of things that we believe”. As far as then giving any sort of plausible explanation of such individual doctrinal catalogue, that’s another matter! Not that I am of the opinion that ANY man, irregardless of his theological degrees, could EVER put God in a box and begin to diagram Him as one might some higher mathematical process. No matter how deep a man might descend into THAT well, when he eventually once more emerges into “reality” as we know it, he is yet left with unanswered questions. While the Gospel translates into “good news”, what it offers us, in fact, is an enigma, a “mystery” that identifies itself as “Christ IN us” and the bottom line to all our inquisitiveness. It is that accomplishment which separates us from everything else out there and creates in us a faith that is able to “overcome the world”….………..

I own a copy of Edersheim’s “The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah” and his initial statement within reads: “Among the outward means by which the religion of Israel was preserved, on eof the most important was the centralization and localization of its worship in Jerusalem.” He goes on to express that “If to some the ordinances of the Old Testament may in this respect seem narrow and exclusive, it is at least doubtful whether without such provision Monotheism itself could have continued as a creed or a worship”. To such remark, I penned on the blank page beside it: “Religion. It seems to me that’s about ALL we achieve when we boil it all down to one place, one people, one creed. Christ is a river of LIVING water and if we, as a body of believers, constrict such flow to but our own private pool, we will soon realize that which we claim to possess has grown stagnant. Was such isolation as the author here suggests necessary, or was it never more than a product of the human element as it involves itself with the things of God? I am inclined to believe the latter”. By such thought, I merely mean that anything void of Christ is “dead”. He, alone, is eternal life, that “manna which came down from heaven”. He is both the question and the answer, that which takes me one step at a time and meets me “inside the veil”………………

Judging Annie................"

When the wife and I travel, it is she who ensures I have enough underwear, socks, and handkerchiefs to survive the journey. It is she who gathers whatEVER toiletries and apparel I may require while away from home. She begins as much as two weeks beforehand and then I quite often find myself going to the suitcase when I can't figure out what happened to my favorite shirt. My own personal habit would be to toss some things into a duffel bag a few hours before we leave. The list is not that long: My Bible, a notebook, a few Flair pens, some unsolveable crossword puzzles, and at least one author to explore. It "works for me". Then, again, after this last trip, I AM weighing the cost of a laptop against my addiction I've acquired concrning Blogdom. "Catching up" when you get home is a bear..............

My choice of literature this time out, to begin with, was a familiar voice, a piece by C. S. Lewis entitled "Pilgrim's Regress". It was, as one might imagine, similar to Bunyon's success along those lines, but sufficiently different enough to take me four days to devour it. With some time still on my hands, however, I did what I usually do: went to my choice of establishments in that area and searched for a name that had been dropped in my ear a week earlier. The fact that Anne Lamott was neither a pastor, nor one of these modern-day evangelists, nor the WIFE of any such individual was both known to me and a plus regarding any decision on my part to purchase her efforts. I knew what I was getting...or at least so I thought. The language she rather frequently incorporated into her dialogue WAS a bit of a surprise. In my era, we used such words, but we also recognized the vulgarity with the usage. Realizing it's not the same world I lived in more than four decade ago, though, I pushed on. The woman's description of her childhood was enough to hold my interest and to discover along the way that she did, indeed, have a conversion to Christ cemented my resolve to finish what I had started..............

It would seem a simply matter, really. I mean, you just grab a few verses like the "born-gain" mandate and the apostle Paul's list in 1st Corinthians of those things which will NOT "inherit the kingdom of God", and you're ready to sort out the "heathen" around you by such yardstick. Right? Never mind leaving some room for spiritual growth and the idea that Christ works with each of us on an individual basis. When you read that this lady's "two best prayers" are merely a repetition of "Help me! Help me!" and "Thank You! Thank You!", it's easier, somehow, to laugh and then wonder if she's really never had any deeper dip into that particular communicative well. I admit: such was my own initial reaction. When she spoke of love going "down into the rat hole with us", however, when she defined grace as "having a commitment to (or at least an acceptance of) being ineffective and foolish, meeting us where we are, but not leaving us where it found us", she won my heart. By the time I finished "Traveling Mercies", four days later in my own living room, my "critique" was: "God bless you, ma'am. May He continue to work His wonders in both your life and mine".............

Update........."

I have posted below, but wanted to say we arrived home last Saturday morning, driving overnight from St Pete. It took a couple of days to adjust to the sleep lost and my computer was due to be returned last night at church. Turns out, however, it will be another week before I am up and running. No big deal, I suppose. There are other available sources now nearby and, hopefully, the "well is not dry". Catching up with what others have put to print, though, may take awhile. I didn't realize how much this has become an addiction. It hasn't been easy for sure.............

Second Thoughts........."

The view from the balcony of our fifth-floor condo unit was spectacular. Every morning, while the rest of our household yet slumbered, I would sit there and observe other people more ambitious than myself walk the shoreline. Some were out for exercise. Others were on a scavenger hunt, rummaging for "treasure" left there overnight. A few fishermen, of course, could always be found, knee-deep in the tie and usually held under scrutiny by some sort of stilted bird anxious to steal his catch. The only sounds to be heard were the bantering of seagulls here and there as they quarrelled over some new discovery and the incessant breaking of the waves upon the sand. The day seemed fresh and alive. Its sanctity, however, would all too soon be spoiled by the arrival of bikini-clad sun worshippers and teenage youth challenging the surf. Small children would begin to build castles and splash at the water's edge. Radios would fill the air with music and the clear blue sky would become punctuated with tourists dangling beneath multi-colored parasols. Real serenity would not return until late in the evening. Then darkness would reduce it all once again to nothing more than the ocean's pulse. Such heartbeat soothed my soul, connecting it somehow to the Creator Who originally spoke it all into existence. I could listen for hours...............

It was a family outing and a place where we've gone, off and on, for more than thirty years. While the roasting of one's anatomy in a dry heat that shrivels the brain holds no interest to me, the wife and the girls have always loved it; and, in reality, that's what "vacation" is all about as far as I'm concerned. Who needs the salt spray and wind in your face as you're reeling in "the big one" to find some relaxation? Who requires a bear-hunting expedition with "the boys" in the Rockies to "get away from it all"? As a matter of opinion, it seems to me that we men sometimes need no more than to wake up to the fact that "it all" is right there in front of us and "peace" is but sorting out all the non-essentials that we've allowed to separate us from that truth. Is there any greater pleasure than gathering shells and writing your names in the wet sand with your soon-to-be-four-year-old granddaughter when you've been surprised to find her up at the crack of dawn with you? Is there any more memorable experience to be enjoyed than stalking elusive lizards through the thick underbrush with her older brother and his cousin? We must have dumped more than twenty-five dollars, on one occasion, into one of those "claw" machines in a nearby restaurant for the kids to walk away with but three cheap stuffed animals, but I can assure you that the moments shared trying to manipulate such "success" was well worth any finacial loss I suffered............

Then consider that my youngest dauther took her two-month old baby with her and Papaw, already quite established as the ever reclusive "sun hermit" in the group, volunteered to attend to its needs so that she could enjoy herself with the rest. It seemed no big deal. I've changed plenty of diapers and sang more than my share of lullabies before this little guy came along. Halfway through the week, however, I was beginning to wonder. I bounced. I burped. I beguiled. Nothing seemed to convince my latest grandson that I was not "the enemy". When all my repertoire of tunes that used to put the others to sleep failed, I finally stuck a worship CD in to play. My skills still seemed to be having no affect on him, though, until somewhere along the way the music got in me. Paying no attention to whatever lyrics being brough forth, I began to sing of God's grace to this tiny bundle cradled in my arms. Tears began to run down my face. His stopped and a smile lit up his countenance as the Holy Ghost overflowed us. He may not remember, but I'll never forget the two of us being one in His presence.............

There is a verse in the Bible that tells us, as christians, to "redeem" the time. If you look up that word in your dictionary, you'll find it defined as "buying back out of captivity or bondage". How we ever arrived at such translation is beyond me. Those two letters "re" mean to perform again whatever activity is linked behind them. In this case, "deem" suggests the passing of judgement or belief about something or someone; and, if such is true, then why shouldn't the word in its entirety imply the idea of "giving new worth or value"? Just a bit of something I've been chewing on. I don't want to mess with anybody else's theology, but it does seem to express all Scriptural aspects of the word somewhat better...............