One never knows what humor the day might bring when you’re working with kids in an Elementary School Special-Ed unit. A friend of mine utilizes horticulture In his tutoring of such students in upper grade levels and I told him recently of my occasion to likewise experience the subject in my own environment. I work with two whose Social Studies class is presently looking at the initial English colonies here in North America. In a separate room afterwards, I reviewed the lesson with my charges, merely shooting for “the big picture”: Roanoake was the first and simply disappeared; Jamestown was put in terms of having survived by growing tobacco; and Plymouth, of course, was identified with the Pilgrims wanting their own church. Trying to see how much the one child had retained, my questions found her void of just what cash-crop had saved the second plant; so I put two fingers to my lip and imitated, for her, the act of blowing smoke from Marlboro country. Her eyes lit up. She had it. “Oh, yeah”, she smiled; “Pot!”….
That was Friday morning’s entertainment. Yesterday afternoon, I stood on the playground out behind our facility, attempting to keep track of four little ones as they mingled with their mates amidst the swings and slides. There’s not much danger of losing them, but those few minutes or so is nonetheless mostly spent in “counting heads” over and over. On this particular excursion, I noted a folding chair positioned in the shade next to the building, some child’s discarded hoodie draped over its back; and, even though the sunlight looked inviting, this old man took advantage of a place to rest his weary bones. Our weather has cooled considerably lately, indeed giving us our first frost the night before; and when my derriere made contact with the metal seat, I noted immediately that the over-night temperature had certainly turned my roost into an icicle. Dull thinking. Slowly, ever so slowly, the truth dawned on me. Rising at last, I turned to discover a small, almost invisible puddle whose greater portion no doubt now inhabited my denims….
In a room where seven of our youngins require frequent trips to the Nurse’s Station for fresh apparel, you can realize the laughter it created when I entered there to cure my own problem by stripping down and placing such area over the bathroom hand-dryer……
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
"The Next Step......................................"
It was six to seven years ago that my group began ministering at the Youth Detention Center, and then, but a year or so after that step, opportunity opened to also visit the rescue mission on a monthly basis. Last week, as they do sometimes, both events fell within a few days span and, for whatever reason, the only thing on my heart Sunday morning I found to share with the kids was the difference we found in “doing church” at either location. To be sure, while not all who frequent the mission are “past their prime”, it’s for sure most have already heard the Gospel in some form or fashion; and whether their theology agrees with mine or not, the majority usually are more than ready to worship with us. No one’s “up-tight” about their neighbor. Who among us doesn’t know we need a Savior? At the Center, however, peer pressure is always a factor, a wall labeled “maintaining one’s reputation” that must be brought down before any real move of God can take place…….
True enough; and yet it seems to me that each group simply presents its own problem, its own “nature”. Frederick Buechner, in reflecting on Alcoholics Anonymous, states he believes that such organization is “far closer to what Christ meant His Church to be and what originally was than what goes on in most churches” he knows. No buildings, real estate, or official leadership. No rummage sales or altar guilds. Indeed, no preachers, choirs, creeds. “It makes you wonder,” he says, “if the best thing that could happen to many a church might not be to have its building burn down and to lose all its money. Then the only thing the people would have left would be God and each other.” More than thirty years membership within one such ecclesiastical body makes me inclined to agree; but I’m also of the opinion that the human equation is a constant. In the midst of one’s peers, be they “the chosen”, the homeless, or a few troubled kids locked in a jail cell, it’s easy to judge yourself by the guy sitting next to you…….
A friend recently asked me “Who made seeing our relationship with God as a journey?” To be truthful, I’m not sure if there’s any one theologian who’s responsible for the analogy; but it, no doubt, simply stems from Hebrew’s portrayal of Abraham sojourning in the “land of promise” as he looked for a city “whose builder and maker is God”. Believers, from the very beginning, have long spoken of Heaven in such terms, likening their individual walk of faith as a similar trip undertaken; and, in my denominational neck of the woods, most would point to “holiness” as the standard required along the way if one expects to get through the gate upon arrival. The condition, to their way of thinking, is achieved via certain “do’s and don’ts” being maintained in a person’s life. Personally, however, I long ago concluded that He, alone, is holy; and, thus, I achieve such state only when I decrease that He might increase. He reminds me of such fact quite often. The learning process is what I call “the journey”……
True enough; and yet it seems to me that each group simply presents its own problem, its own “nature”. Frederick Buechner, in reflecting on Alcoholics Anonymous, states he believes that such organization is “far closer to what Christ meant His Church to be and what originally was than what goes on in most churches” he knows. No buildings, real estate, or official leadership. No rummage sales or altar guilds. Indeed, no preachers, choirs, creeds. “It makes you wonder,” he says, “if the best thing that could happen to many a church might not be to have its building burn down and to lose all its money. Then the only thing the people would have left would be God and each other.” More than thirty years membership within one such ecclesiastical body makes me inclined to agree; but I’m also of the opinion that the human equation is a constant. In the midst of one’s peers, be they “the chosen”, the homeless, or a few troubled kids locked in a jail cell, it’s easy to judge yourself by the guy sitting next to you…….
A friend recently asked me “Who made seeing our relationship with God as a journey?” To be truthful, I’m not sure if there’s any one theologian who’s responsible for the analogy; but it, no doubt, simply stems from Hebrew’s portrayal of Abraham sojourning in the “land of promise” as he looked for a city “whose builder and maker is God”. Believers, from the very beginning, have long spoken of Heaven in such terms, likening their individual walk of faith as a similar trip undertaken; and, in my denominational neck of the woods, most would point to “holiness” as the standard required along the way if one expects to get through the gate upon arrival. The condition, to their way of thinking, is achieved via certain “do’s and don’ts” being maintained in a person’s life. Personally, however, I long ago concluded that He, alone, is holy; and, thus, I achieve such state only when I decrease that He might increase. He reminds me of such fact quite often. The learning process is what I call “the journey”……
Monday, October 22, 2007
"Not By Power...................................."
My weekend began with a sense of normality. Beth slept late; I stretched out in the recliner reading, as usual; and somewhere around eleven we both went to Bob’s for breakfast. Next on our agenda was a stop at Wal-Mart for a few items; and then over to the school to watch the grandson’s first basketball game. Some early Christmas shopping. I picked up my thirty dollar Buechner order from Barnes & Noble. Dinner at Cracker Barrel. Home. Home where the gravel driveway is much in need of an update. Home where the recent rain left us with a small, muddy puddle. Home where, by holding the bag upside-down, I now manage to drop both books just purchased into the middle of the dirty water. Grumble. Mumble. Nothing so bad it couldn’t be repeated here, but certainly not happy camper vocabulary. As if this bit of mishap wasn’t enough, however, while I’m consoling myself a few minutes later with a hot cup of coffee and a pop-tart, I break a tooth. No pain; but, little by little, my ability to glue together two positive thoughts sunk deeper and deeper into oblivion……
Sunday morning’s drive to rendezvous with my Youth Detention Center group found me ill-prepared to face the kids. A few scattered verses, a poor sense of direction, and a prayer that the Holy Ghost would forgive me my own humanity. It was a beautiful sight to behold when Bob motored into the parking lot, unexpectedly raising our speaker level to three. Now, with a couple of songs placed here and there, my contribution to the service could be reduced and become more of a “sharing”, a simple matter of fact, Christ-in-me statement to illustrate the Gospel as I see it. You do get caught up in the “details” sometimes. How to make it “work”. How to fill sixty minutes without putting everyone to sleep. You want God’s will and you want it so strongly that sometimes you, yourself, are the biggest detriment in seeing it come to pass. Whether you approach the task with a pre-birthed message in your heart or, as on this occasion, trying to bring forth living water out of a dry, dusty well, it is best achieved when you just relax and trust Him to complete that which you have to offer……
I’ve been feeding nearly two days, now, on what took place yesterday……
Sunday morning’s drive to rendezvous with my Youth Detention Center group found me ill-prepared to face the kids. A few scattered verses, a poor sense of direction, and a prayer that the Holy Ghost would forgive me my own humanity. It was a beautiful sight to behold when Bob motored into the parking lot, unexpectedly raising our speaker level to three. Now, with a couple of songs placed here and there, my contribution to the service could be reduced and become more of a “sharing”, a simple matter of fact, Christ-in-me statement to illustrate the Gospel as I see it. You do get caught up in the “details” sometimes. How to make it “work”. How to fill sixty minutes without putting everyone to sleep. You want God’s will and you want it so strongly that sometimes you, yourself, are the biggest detriment in seeing it come to pass. Whether you approach the task with a pre-birthed message in your heart or, as on this occasion, trying to bring forth living water out of a dry, dusty well, it is best achieved when you just relax and trust Him to complete that which you have to offer……
I’ve been feeding nearly two days, now, on what took place yesterday……
Saturday, October 20, 2007
"Why It Works For Me.........................."
Due to work and family commitment, the two men who normally visit the rescue mission with me were not there Wednesday evening. I was fortunate, though, to gain the company of two other fellows who were willing to “step up to the plate”. Chris is a young, recently engaged lad, with a call into ministry, but is not one of those “all-I-want-to-do-is preach” bunch that so frequents the pews of Pentecost. He has his own scheduled day at the Youth Detention Center and, on this occasion, came because I asked for his assistance, this sort of meeting a first for him. A little nervous, he opted to follow John, sharing for a few moments on forgiveness......
John, I know only through a testimony given one morning at church, but as he opened to share with the thirty or so seated there before us, that same simple, honest flow of his heart came forth. The story told was not all that unfamiliar to those in the room. We all could identify with his words. A childhood conversion that didn’t survive a teenage entrance into a struggle with alcohol. Three marriages before returning to Christ turned things around. The details may have been his, but the journey, itself, could have belonged to any of us. Indeed, before leading them in the singing of an old hymn, I spoke of us, as a body, being “in the same boat”……
It is, I suppose, one of the reasons I so enjoy this particular outreach. Buechner, in the daily devotional I’m currently reading, says that if we came to church right, we would come to it more fully and nakedly ourselves, come with our humanness more apparent than we are apt to display it elsewhere. We would come “with the muck on our shoes, foot-sore and travel-stained, with the dust of our lives upon us, toting our failures, our deceits, and our hypocrisies”. Indeed, in another excerpt, he suggests that an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting, more so than most ecclesiastical gatherings, resemble what Christ is all about. I’m prone to agree……
John, I know only through a testimony given one morning at church, but as he opened to share with the thirty or so seated there before us, that same simple, honest flow of his heart came forth. The story told was not all that unfamiliar to those in the room. We all could identify with his words. A childhood conversion that didn’t survive a teenage entrance into a struggle with alcohol. Three marriages before returning to Christ turned things around. The details may have been his, but the journey, itself, could have belonged to any of us. Indeed, before leading them in the singing of an old hymn, I spoke of us, as a body, being “in the same boat”……
It is, I suppose, one of the reasons I so enjoy this particular outreach. Buechner, in the daily devotional I’m currently reading, says that if we came to church right, we would come to it more fully and nakedly ourselves, come with our humanness more apparent than we are apt to display it elsewhere. We would come “with the muck on our shoes, foot-sore and travel-stained, with the dust of our lives upon us, toting our failures, our deceits, and our hypocrisies”. Indeed, in another excerpt, he suggests that an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting, more so than most ecclesiastical gatherings, resemble what Christ is all about. I’m prone to agree……
Monday, October 15, 2007
"AC-DC................................................."
We’ve lived in this small, “backdoor niche” of northern Kentucky suburbia for at least the last dozen years or so. I know a few of the household around us and have enjoyed coffee, on occasion, with the retired, divorced, truck driver on the hill who yet attends our old church; but, beyond that, if you want any details about their lives, you’d have to ask my wife. I wave and get into passing dialogue about our need for rain or last night’s evening news. Beth collects intricate tidbits concerning their jobs, their kids, their exes, information that, for the most part, goes in one of my ears and out the other. I know my neighbors; and, yet, I don’t “really” know them. That doesn’t mean, though, that when the woman who lives next door walks across and engages us in conversation as she did yesterday, discussing her teenage son’s plea to join the National Guard, I don’t embrace the situation seriously. Wrestling with the truth of her decision possibly putting him “in harms way”, she spoke with us as much out of a need to release her anxiety as anything else; and I told her we would pray for her peace in the matter regardless of how it was resolved……
The incident, however, set me thinking. As believers, most of us attach ourselves to a local assembly, maybe involve ourselves in some of its activities, perhaps even commit ourselves to taking part in ministry or outreach; and, yet, depending on just how large a congregation it might be, it remains debatable how well we actually are acquainted with those who sit on the pew beside us. It is the same, I dare say, especially for men, when it comes to our relationship with co-workers, the stores and restaurants we frequent, even extending, somewhat, into our network of relatives. Of a truth, people can, and do, share the same house, the same refrigerator, the same bathroom, the same bed, and often have no idea of just “who” the other person is. When one’s own history of mistakes, failures, fears, hurts, and shame are all hidden, locked up in the depths of his soul and declared “off limits”, it’s no mystery that he would hesitate to intrude into another individual’s private affairs……
All the more reason I’m thankful for the restoration of a Holy Ghost connection whereby God is able to bind up our wounds, walk with us through our humanity, and utilize us in ministry as we submit ourselves unto Him……
The incident, however, set me thinking. As believers, most of us attach ourselves to a local assembly, maybe involve ourselves in some of its activities, perhaps even commit ourselves to taking part in ministry or outreach; and, yet, depending on just how large a congregation it might be, it remains debatable how well we actually are acquainted with those who sit on the pew beside us. It is the same, I dare say, especially for men, when it comes to our relationship with co-workers, the stores and restaurants we frequent, even extending, somewhat, into our network of relatives. Of a truth, people can, and do, share the same house, the same refrigerator, the same bathroom, the same bed, and often have no idea of just “who” the other person is. When one’s own history of mistakes, failures, fears, hurts, and shame are all hidden, locked up in the depths of his soul and declared “off limits”, it’s no mystery that he would hesitate to intrude into another individual’s private affairs……
All the more reason I’m thankful for the restoration of a Holy Ghost connection whereby God is able to bind up our wounds, walk with us through our humanity, and utilize us in ministry as we submit ourselves unto Him……
Saturday, October 13, 2007
"Monkey Business..............................."
“Actually, one decides one’s life by responding to a word that is not well-defined, easily explained, safely accounted for. One decides to love in the face of an unaccountable void and, from the void, comes to an unaccountable truth. By this truth, one’s existence is sustained in peace-until the truth is too firmly grasped and too clearly accounted for. Then one is relying on words-that is: on his own understanding and his own ingenuity; and then one is lost and has to be found again in the patient void.……..Thomas Merton
“The true history of mankind and the true history of each individual man have less to do than we end to think with the kind of information that gets into most books. True history has to do with the saving and losing of souls, and both of these are apt to take place when most people, including the one whose soul is at stake, are looking the other way“……Frederick Buechner
“Evolution”, he said; “They want to teach on evolution.” We were seated, Wednesday evening, in the sound control balcony that overlooks the sanctuary, having a pre-service chat about things in general, and conversation turned to the new direction the old Sunday school class was taking. He gave me no real indication of his feelings on the matter and I simply noted my own disinterest in such pursuit. Whether or not their choice of topics was prompted by the recent opening, here in northern Kentucky, of a Creation Museum, I don’t know; but I am sure of this: our revisiting the John Scopes Monkey Trial isn’t my idea for a good Bible study. Indeed, in my opinion, if we really wanted to approach anything similar to learning, the gathering would probably closer resemble an AA meeting than anything else, giving to all present open opportunity to share their own experience of the Word manifesting itself in their journey. Scripture would not be taught as pre-determined, doctrinal demands that the church holds, but as Christ, within us, reveals truth to be the mystery it remains, able to be grasped only in as much as the group permits Him to flow between them……
Webster defines “evolution” as “a process of change, especially from a lower to a higher state”, but doesn’t preclude it to an instantaneous, genetic metamorphosis. You want to talk about evolving? Let’s skip the debate concerning our ancestors swinging by their tail from tree to tree and discuss how the Holy Ghost works with us as we go, continually leading, re-creating, making us anew in Him………
“The true history of mankind and the true history of each individual man have less to do than we end to think with the kind of information that gets into most books. True history has to do with the saving and losing of souls, and both of these are apt to take place when most people, including the one whose soul is at stake, are looking the other way“……Frederick Buechner
“Evolution”, he said; “They want to teach on evolution.” We were seated, Wednesday evening, in the sound control balcony that overlooks the sanctuary, having a pre-service chat about things in general, and conversation turned to the new direction the old Sunday school class was taking. He gave me no real indication of his feelings on the matter and I simply noted my own disinterest in such pursuit. Whether or not their choice of topics was prompted by the recent opening, here in northern Kentucky, of a Creation Museum, I don’t know; but I am sure of this: our revisiting the John Scopes Monkey Trial isn’t my idea for a good Bible study. Indeed, in my opinion, if we really wanted to approach anything similar to learning, the gathering would probably closer resemble an AA meeting than anything else, giving to all present open opportunity to share their own experience of the Word manifesting itself in their journey. Scripture would not be taught as pre-determined, doctrinal demands that the church holds, but as Christ, within us, reveals truth to be the mystery it remains, able to be grasped only in as much as the group permits Him to flow between them……
Webster defines “evolution” as “a process of change, especially from a lower to a higher state”, but doesn’t preclude it to an instantaneous, genetic metamorphosis. You want to talk about evolving? Let’s skip the debate concerning our ancestors swinging by their tail from tree to tree and discuss how the Holy Ghost works with us as we go, continually leading, re-creating, making us anew in Him………
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
"The Heart of It All..........................."
Our church is very missionary-minded, so much so that I’ve gotten pleas from folk who have heard God call them to take the Gospel to Jamaica, the Galapagos, and lots of other exotic, warm places. Likewise, when I’ve questioned the need to save people in Venice, Italy, people give me strange looks. Often, if the trip is but a short one, it’s explained in terms of helping build a sanctuary or maybe renewing a roof. The fellow who spoke to us today, though, was, to me, “the real deal”, about to take his wife and two kids to Turkey in an effort to reach as much of the Muslim world as possible. If I have any hesitation at all in backing outreach like this, it is merely with his statement concerning why he would take such risk with his family……
The Bible certainly lays a foundation for a theology that would insist a conversion to Christ is the only way a man can enter into Heaven. Peter, in his first sermon, makes it pretty clear that “neither is their salvation in any other” and, if you add to that all the numerous times Paul equates being “saved” to a condition of accepting Jesus as Messiah, the doctrine is, indeed, central to our faith. Does the phraseology, however, conclude passage through the Pearly Gates? Each and every time in Scripture that the Lord, Himself, made mention of any credentials needed to walk the golden streets of Glory, His words were directed to those religious folk who thought of themselves as already possessing “keys to the kingdom”. In referring to the gift He gave, the Lord addressed it either in terms of “eternal life” or a form of the Holy Ghost re-birthed in humanity……
It seems to me, then, that we must realize Judgment Day hasn’t been delivered into our hands to swing as a sword against all who don’t know Him. What has been given unto us is an Indwelling, a resurrection of that same One who long ago testified how He didn’t require us to explain things. If we are told to be His witnesses, be it through vocal declaration or via charitable demonstration, the manifestation is to be achieved by an overflowing of that reality. We are never to be anything more than a vessel for the Spirit, a cup of Living Water, a piece of the Father’s bread offered in His name. God so loved “the world”. That hasn’t changed; and that’s the message I prefer to extend unto it, walking in conviction, not condemnation, and leaving the finality of the matter in His hands as I go……
The Bible certainly lays a foundation for a theology that would insist a conversion to Christ is the only way a man can enter into Heaven. Peter, in his first sermon, makes it pretty clear that “neither is their salvation in any other” and, if you add to that all the numerous times Paul equates being “saved” to a condition of accepting Jesus as Messiah, the doctrine is, indeed, central to our faith. Does the phraseology, however, conclude passage through the Pearly Gates? Each and every time in Scripture that the Lord, Himself, made mention of any credentials needed to walk the golden streets of Glory, His words were directed to those religious folk who thought of themselves as already possessing “keys to the kingdom”. In referring to the gift He gave, the Lord addressed it either in terms of “eternal life” or a form of the Holy Ghost re-birthed in humanity……
It seems to me, then, that we must realize Judgment Day hasn’t been delivered into our hands to swing as a sword against all who don’t know Him. What has been given unto us is an Indwelling, a resurrection of that same One who long ago testified how He didn’t require us to explain things. If we are told to be His witnesses, be it through vocal declaration or via charitable demonstration, the manifestation is to be achieved by an overflowing of that reality. We are never to be anything more than a vessel for the Spirit, a cup of Living Water, a piece of the Father’s bread offered in His name. God so loved “the world”. That hasn’t changed; and that’s the message I prefer to extend unto it, walking in conviction, not condemnation, and leaving the finality of the matter in His hands as I go……
Thursday, October 04, 2007
"The Ancient of Days...................."
The corkboard beside the ninth-floor elevator entrance of the government-funded, senior high-rise has somebody’s altered version of the Beatitudes posted on it. My mother has lived there for nearly a decade now and could well be the one who put such sentiments there. Every two lines pronounce a blessing on all those who take notice of the elderly and afford them dignity in their lost physical abilities. While each of us would probably applaud that theme, it yet remains, in my opinion, that one’s age limitations aren’t the real reason that particular generation often finds themselves with but few visitors and little concern (from their point of view) for their plight. As it is throughout our entire life, it’s usually the guy within the shell, your personality as an individual, who determines how others treat you……
My mother turned eighty-four this past August. I found her early Saturday evening seated in one of the rear rooms on the ground level of that building, all alone as she worked at a game of Solitaire. The card game with her handful of friends wouldn’t start for another hour or so and I sat down for another one-sided conversation that repeats itself almost any time we attempt it: Somebody should eliminate President Bush; doctors of any kind are not to be trusted; and, other than those three or four buddies who think as she thinks, her chosen place of residence is occupied by the biggest bunch of crabby, gossipy, old women that she’s ever known! All they ever do is block the front entrance and talk about everybody else! She, herself, of course, would never stoop so low as to degrade other people……
Sometimes I wonder. It seems like we all have our own idea of what Judgment Day will be like. Water baptism. Speaking in tongues. A trip down the Roman Road. We can be pretty demanding in our interpretation of scripture and yet grow very flexible if it comes down to applying it to one of our own. Others appear to have no problem extending the latter leniency unto whomsoever. We’re all “saved”. We simply don’t grasp God’s love in its entirety. Personally, I figure it’s His creation, His promise of heaven, and His decision concerning who gets to move to the next level. Therefore, while the Bible certainly gives me food for thought on the matter, what I really trust is a Holy Ghost connection that verifies a relationship established. An old man is an old man. Divinity speaks for Himself……
My mother turned eighty-four this past August. I found her early Saturday evening seated in one of the rear rooms on the ground level of that building, all alone as she worked at a game of Solitaire. The card game with her handful of friends wouldn’t start for another hour or so and I sat down for another one-sided conversation that repeats itself almost any time we attempt it: Somebody should eliminate President Bush; doctors of any kind are not to be trusted; and, other than those three or four buddies who think as she thinks, her chosen place of residence is occupied by the biggest bunch of crabby, gossipy, old women that she’s ever known! All they ever do is block the front entrance and talk about everybody else! She, herself, of course, would never stoop so low as to degrade other people……
Sometimes I wonder. It seems like we all have our own idea of what Judgment Day will be like. Water baptism. Speaking in tongues. A trip down the Roman Road. We can be pretty demanding in our interpretation of scripture and yet grow very flexible if it comes down to applying it to one of our own. Others appear to have no problem extending the latter leniency unto whomsoever. We’re all “saved”. We simply don’t grasp God’s love in its entirety. Personally, I figure it’s His creation, His promise of heaven, and His decision concerning who gets to move to the next level. Therefore, while the Bible certainly gives me food for thought on the matter, what I really trust is a Holy Ghost connection that verifies a relationship established. An old man is an old man. Divinity speaks for Himself……
Monday, October 01, 2007
"This Week's Class............................"
With opportunity to help a friend from the old church Sunday afternoon at the Youth Detention Center, I arose early yesterday morning to clear my mind and get direction from God. The word “forgive” kept running through my thoughts, so I opened up my Bible to search what Jesus had to say about it in the Gospels. While most might think absolution of sin to be what Christ is all about, it is nonetheless a fact that every time the Lord addresses such subject in Scripture, He makes it known that pardon is given unto us in exactly the same manner as we administer it unto others. Indeed, it appears to operate, somehow, in reciprocal proportion out of a flow that we, ourselves, do not manufacture, but allow to be created within us……
As if to supplement my hour of study, my Sunday school lesson yesterday was taught by my nephew’s wife, her first occasion in twenty-some years to so speak unto adults. It was obvious she was nervous, even though her mission was “merely” her testimony. As she pushed forward, however, as a group we were held by the witness she brought forth, stunned but once more by the grace of God. The daughter of an alcoholic father who abandoned his family in her early childhood, she was repeatedly sexually abused by her stepfather, her mother, for whatever reason, doing nothing at all in her defense. During their teenage years, her younger sister committed suicide and, as if life hadn’t already given her enough tragedy, she was raped at knife-point by a “repairman” who came to their house……
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the entire room as she spoke of somehow knowing God was with her through the entire ordeal, even though there had been no foundation in the faith whatsoever. She was twenty-one and married when I sat down to talk with her, that afternoon long ago, about Calvary’s gift of the Holy Ghost. Now, more than two decades later, her words spoke of a journey, a work begun back before she’d ever heard of chapter and verse, an assurance birthed in her via a tract that I’d tell you was not too well grounded in truth. Yet here she stood, not just strong in Him, but also in a parental relationship gained out of an ability to move, in love, beyond the past. Three children, one grandchild, and the next step……
There were at least fifteen young women at the Center, but my message “hit home” as well with the male portion of my congregation. Life happens. What we make of it only depends on whether we invite Him to share our heart……
As if to supplement my hour of study, my Sunday school lesson yesterday was taught by my nephew’s wife, her first occasion in twenty-some years to so speak unto adults. It was obvious she was nervous, even though her mission was “merely” her testimony. As she pushed forward, however, as a group we were held by the witness she brought forth, stunned but once more by the grace of God. The daughter of an alcoholic father who abandoned his family in her early childhood, she was repeatedly sexually abused by her stepfather, her mother, for whatever reason, doing nothing at all in her defense. During their teenage years, her younger sister committed suicide and, as if life hadn’t already given her enough tragedy, she was raped at knife-point by a “repairman” who came to their house……
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the entire room as she spoke of somehow knowing God was with her through the entire ordeal, even though there had been no foundation in the faith whatsoever. She was twenty-one and married when I sat down to talk with her, that afternoon long ago, about Calvary’s gift of the Holy Ghost. Now, more than two decades later, her words spoke of a journey, a work begun back before she’d ever heard of chapter and verse, an assurance birthed in her via a tract that I’d tell you was not too well grounded in truth. Yet here she stood, not just strong in Him, but also in a parental relationship gained out of an ability to move, in love, beyond the past. Three children, one grandchild, and the next step……
There were at least fifteen young women at the Center, but my message “hit home” as well with the male portion of my congregation. Life happens. What we make of it only depends on whether we invite Him to share our heart……
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