My friend and I were discussing the state of the world the other day-again. It's either that or moan about our weight gain. We were discussing the Muslim terrorists. It's disturbing to know they're out there and we don't know who they are, where they are, or when they'll strike.
Thankfully, letters from missionaries do far more than warn about the dangers of extremists-from any belief system. In the Middle East, Muslims are turning to Jesus Christ in droves. My friend mentioned that in America, so many are turning away from the church and turning to Islam. She was wondering why.
I may have found the answer in a biography of Brother Andrew. Most of the boys' essays at school are based on biographies of missionaries. Each year, I get to reread many of those biographies in order to be sure the boys are accurate in what they write. Far, far above and beyond that, I am blessed and humbled by reading about the men and women who have suffered so much to carry the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a lost and dying world.
Brother Andrew is one of those biographies. The man is amazing. In his 80's, he climbs a mountain every night and throws Bibles across the border into a country where he probably is no longer welcome. He started smuggling Bibles into communist countries in 1955. He had no backing, no agency, he just wen, asking God to blind the eyes of the border guards to his literature and Bibles. Wherever he went, he would start his message by saying he was bringing greetings from fellow Christians in the Netherlands, the country of his birth.
Those words were always a comfort to the people hearing that there were believers in the free world who were praying for them and cared about them. As communism fell, the smuggling was no longer necessary in some countries, but his ministry still grew exponentially. Even though it's no longer necessary to smuggle Bible into some of those counties like he did 50 years ago, there are needy people who would do anything to get their hands on a Bible. Each country he worked in eventually had tremendous changes, most for the best. In fact, I firmly believe those droves of new Christians in the Middle East are the payoff for the Bibles he smuggled into those countries 15-20 years ago. Unless you're plugged into missions, you may not realize how God is working in spite of what the media tells you about the horrors going on in the world.
Even the Middle East. It was Brother Andrew's words about Islam that got my attention this morning and is the reason for today's subject. "'There is a lot to admire in Islam,"' he says. "'You have to pay attention to a religion with this kind of draw."' Part of its appeal, he explains, is the close community support it offers. It claims to be the answer to economic and social problems.[He didn't say it was, he said it claims.] It emphasizes wholesome living, drug-free, alcohol-free, prayer centered communities that hold up the father as the responsible head of that family.
Those are the very standards America upheld until a few decades ago. When we were an agrarian society, families had no choice but to work together. Donald Trump's children say that's one reason they're close to their dad. For decades, men have been ignored, challenged, mocked, ridiculed, and especially in the black community, have just plain checked out. Just this morning there was an ad, suggesting men be good fathers. How I praise God for that ad!
We're also a mobile society today. Grandma often lives hundreds, maybe thousands of miles away. True, we have social media that makes connections possible anytime, anywhere, but it's not the same. Grandma can't see children's behavior and warn them about the danger they're in. Psychologists are now saying social media is causing all sorts of difficulties. Even my granddaughter complained that you can't get that close connection in social media like you can face to face. When I was growing up, lawsuits were non-existent. In fact, if a kid did something wrong, the neighbor who saw it was thanked for correcting the matter post haste. America is paying for it's departure from close community support in ways it never dreamed.
Economically, my high school teachers often talked about the rise and fall of communism being directly related to economics. As long as America was sound economically, communism couldn't really get a strong following. And it's strongest following occurred during the 1930's-the Depression. Maybe that's why Islam has such a strong following today. People are hurting financially and looking for answers. I'm not saying Islam has it, but they claim it and some people don't dig too deep.
The insistence of taking pleasure in things that are detrimental to our health is bound to catch up with us one of these days. I would venture to guess that many more people die from alcohol related accidents or drug overdoses than we're losing men and women in our armed forces. If drugs are such a wonderful pleasure, why are our suicide rate so high among teenagers? If indiscriminate sex is so much fun, why do 15 year olds have to get drunk to "enjoy" it?
The lack of prayer indicates a lack of belief in a power greater than self. America loves to tout "I can do anything I want so long as I believe in myself." Really? If that were the case, I doubt I'd have allowed our condo to be destroyed in Hurricane Frances. The engine wouldn't have blown one week after we had it rebuilt and the day after I had finally paid off the VISA bill. We'd have a lot more doctors, lawyers, movie stars and rock stars if all that was required was to work hard and believe in ourselves. I'd be a best-selling author by now! Not every dream comes true, so why put all my faith in me and my dreams? There is a Higher Power. His Name is God, the I AM, Jesus Christ, Creator, Sustainer, Savior, Sanctifier, Healer, Coming King, Prince of Peace, Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, Emmanuel, Lover of my soul. You get my drift.
Finally, and it's a biggie. Fathers are considered the responsible head of the family. Kids in America learn early that they have to fend for themselves. Some manage. Most don't. Instead, they turn to their peers, to drugs, to big names who have more problems than the kids do.
If Islam is so great, why be upset that it's growing? Brother Andrew tells people he's not against anything. He's for Jesus Christ. American Christians and churches could learn a lot from him. Opposing Islam is not working. We need to become a missionary nation like we were right after WWII. We were the greatest nation in the world. Why? Because we were telling the world about Jesus Christ. His love for us is the greatest message in the world, bar none. Jesus told us to love our enemies. The missionary letters I read from persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ in other nations all say they don't hate their persecutors, they love them and forgive them. Maybe it's time we stopped patting ourselves on the back and start taking some lessons from those who are succeeding where we are failing.
Having said all that, I am NOT promoting Islam. Even if it were a wonderful as it claims in just those 4 areas, Jesus said He was the way, the truth, and the life. NO ONE comes to the Father, EXCEPT by Him. Therein lies the difference between all religions and true Christianity. The life here on earth may be ideal, but what about eternity?
It is disappointing that Muslims who are not extremists are not doing anything to stop the takeover of their religion. I would imagine it's fear. Just like it's fear when someone is convinced they need to follow the dictates of a denomination or spiritual leader instead of the Lord. Jesus said to love our enemies. The Bible says perfect love casts out fear. I preach because I love.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Context is King
Taking words and actions out of context is a common thing in this day and age. Even Scripture can be taken out of context. It's true the Bible says "there is no God." However, in context, it says, "The fool in his heart says there is no God." Putting something in context provides a whole different meaning. God is, but the fool refuses to acknowledge Him.
Politics and the media seem to be taking things out of context as an art form these days. I'm referring to Trump again. It seems as though I begin to admire him for something and then there's that mouth. I watched in amazement and admiration the other day as his son spoke about the kind of dad Mr. Trump has been to him and his siblings. I have to say I admire Trump for doing such a good job with his children.
It's also interesting to note that Trump never sees the need to defend himself as a dad. He doesn't need to. However, business decisions and politics are another story. His lack of confidence is showing. One of those ways is to when he takes the word of others out of context, but God help the person who does it to him. Did you see how upset he got and how he accused a woman of being a Bush plant when she asked him an uncomfortable question at a meeting? Personally, I thought that was bullying on his part. There was no way she could defend herself against The Donald. However, we hear him defending himself and his context for days on every media outlet that will have him on their programs.
Then, yesterday, he's on FNC running down George Bush-but saying he was't. Context again. Mr. Trump said 9/11 would never have happened on his watch. Really. Then why did he not see those bankruptcies coming? Not once, but four times. He insists he was not putting Bush down by saying we were not kept safe. Here's where the context comes in. In my mind, Jeb Bush defends his brother for keeping us safe after 9/11. There's no argument there. Plot after plot was foiled and we were not attacked again. Since Bush left office, our safety and security grows weaker by the minute. We've already had terrorist attacks in this country, regardless what Obama says. Remember Ft. Hood? Candidate Trump refuses to see Jeb's comments in the way they were intended. Trump says we were not kept safe ON 9/11 and it would not have happened on his watch.
A great deal of context loss may come from the fact that we have different perspectives. I've often been misquoted. Something I've said has been heard differently by someone who has a totally different perspective. The Bible says where words are many, sin is not absent. Perhaps we all need to slow down, listen more carefully, ask about the speaker's context, give them more benefit of the doubt, and disagree more politely. Personally, I'm tired of our politicians running for office to prove themselves popular. I want a leader who doesn't have to consistently explain himself. If he's or she's a good leader, he or she won't have to.
Politics and the media seem to be taking things out of context as an art form these days. I'm referring to Trump again. It seems as though I begin to admire him for something and then there's that mouth. I watched in amazement and admiration the other day as his son spoke about the kind of dad Mr. Trump has been to him and his siblings. I have to say I admire Trump for doing such a good job with his children.
It's also interesting to note that Trump never sees the need to defend himself as a dad. He doesn't need to. However, business decisions and politics are another story. His lack of confidence is showing. One of those ways is to when he takes the word of others out of context, but God help the person who does it to him. Did you see how upset he got and how he accused a woman of being a Bush plant when she asked him an uncomfortable question at a meeting? Personally, I thought that was bullying on his part. There was no way she could defend herself against The Donald. However, we hear him defending himself and his context for days on every media outlet that will have him on their programs.
Then, yesterday, he's on FNC running down George Bush-but saying he was't. Context again. Mr. Trump said 9/11 would never have happened on his watch. Really. Then why did he not see those bankruptcies coming? Not once, but four times. He insists he was not putting Bush down by saying we were not kept safe. Here's where the context comes in. In my mind, Jeb Bush defends his brother for keeping us safe after 9/11. There's no argument there. Plot after plot was foiled and we were not attacked again. Since Bush left office, our safety and security grows weaker by the minute. We've already had terrorist attacks in this country, regardless what Obama says. Remember Ft. Hood? Candidate Trump refuses to see Jeb's comments in the way they were intended. Trump says we were not kept safe ON 9/11 and it would not have happened on his watch.
A great deal of context loss may come from the fact that we have different perspectives. I've often been misquoted. Something I've said has been heard differently by someone who has a totally different perspective. The Bible says where words are many, sin is not absent. Perhaps we all need to slow down, listen more carefully, ask about the speaker's context, give them more benefit of the doubt, and disagree more politely. Personally, I'm tired of our politicians running for office to prove themselves popular. I want a leader who doesn't have to consistently explain himself. If he's or she's a good leader, he or she won't have to.
Monday, October 19, 2015
80 (cont.)
How can I describe the man I've been married to for 52 years in a few short paragraphs? Therefore, I continue. We met at a farm cow pond outside my home town. That farm no longer exists. It's been made into a park. Bob later said he decided the instant he saw me I would be the mother of his children. Maybe his wife. He was a Californian. His standards were skewed.
We'd been dating 3 1/2 weeks when he proposed, but he still wanted me to finish college. He said it would be a real feather in his cap to be a soldier who's wife had a college education. At the time, he was a high school drop out. Eventually, he was able to get his GED and an AA. College meant a lot more back then than it does today. However, he was transferred to El Paso, Texas, shortly after our engagement and my dad was out of work while the mill went on strike. I came home from college, never expecting to return.
Several months later, I followed him to El Paso, and we were married by a chaplain on Ft. Bliss. Thus began out adventures of travel and becoming one as Scripture mandates. I always wanted to travel and being married to a soldier made travel a high priority. We went from Ft. Bliss, Texas; to Butzbach, Germany; back to Ft. Bliss; to Ft. Huachuca, Arizona; to New Jersey; to Colorado; to Pennsylvania, back to Ft. Huachuca; to Ft. Shafter, Hawaii; to Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri where he retired from an honorable career with the United States Army. In between those major moves were several smaller, temporary moves. Even after the army, we had several more. Many of the families we knew in the service would separate for long periods of time for convenience' sake. Bob said, "We're family. We go together." I appreciate that. At times it was highly inconvenient, but it's not easy being both mother and father. The boys needed their dad and I needed my husband.
I admire my husband for his courage. Rickets and broken legs weren't the only things he's suffered in his life. In Hawaii, his ulcer perforated. He continued to work for 8 months with that perforated ulcer now forcing the pancreas to close the open sore, damaging the pancreas in an effort to keep the intestine from spewing its contents into the abdominal cavity. The doctor who performed the surgery was literally in a state of shock when he came out of surgery. "I don't know how he stood the pain." I had a few choice words (no swearing) but he understood what I thought of the military doctors who'd mocked him and accused him of malingering. To prove them wrong, Bob continued to work.
In Chicago, he had a ruptured diverticulum. Again he endured excruciating pain for weeks. I finally had the opportunity to return to college to finish my degree and he suffered in silence, concerned that he was dying of cancer, but determined to keep me going to school with only school on my mind. Little did he know! My dad had passed away the previous December and the plan was that I would visit my mother during Spring break. Fat chance. By now, he had lost so much weight, he was literally skin and bones. I cancelled my trip and he had surgery the Monday after Easter. The doctor again was amazed. "He should have been popped out like he was 9 months pregnant, able to keep nothing down, and running a sky high temperature, but he had no symptoms." He also said it would take at least 6 weeks for Bob to be able to return to work. He was back in 3.
Bob's taught me a lot over the years regarding work. As NCOIC of his department, he'd not be required to be at work until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, but he'd be there by 5:30. All his paper work would be completed without the interruptions he knew would be the order of the day once the rest of the hospital was up and running. When he was stationed in Ft. Leonard Wood, our home was 30 miles away, meaning he'd have to leave very early in the morning to be at work by 5:30. Even in Chicago, as a civilian, he'd leave for work at the 100+ year old Cook County Hospital. Not only was the hospital old, nurses and doctors were as incompetent on machinery as I am. "There's only one way to put the paper in the machine, but they'd get it in backwards and wonder why the machine didn't work." He'd often be called out to fix a non-functioning piece of equipment, only to find out it wasn't plugged in. That's the sort of things he faced all day, so he wanted his paperwork out of the way first. Staying late was not his thing. He firmly believed in doing the job and going home, even if it meant going to work very early.
His sense of humor has not only kept us laughing, but it's been his way of expressing tenderness. Men his age aren't supposed to have feelings. My first pregnancy was difficult. I was so sick, I lost 20 pounds in the first three months. Although he hated shopping, he did that particular Sunday that was very rough for me. It was Mother's Day. He walked into our tiny apartment, carrying a cake. "You can only eat 1/3 of it because you're only 1/3 of a mother."
When the priest admonished the bride and groom at their wedding that the Bible says the husband is to be like Christ, Bob whispered, "Big deal. You get to go home and do dishes for me. I get to go out and die for you!"
The day he took a 15 mph exit ramp on 2 wheels, he asked me if I was scared. "Me, too," he said at he patted my let. When he forgot to set the brakes on the ATV and it headed for the canyon, leaving us stranded in the wilderness, he asked if I'd had my adrenaline fix for the day after we got it stopped before disaster happened.
Bless his heart, he's been with me through thick and thin. Literally. Like I said, when he quit smoking, it was over. Not so for me with food. He once said he'd love me no matter what I weighed. I'm grateful for that, but won't stop trying to make him proud of me. I'm so very proud of him.
We'd been dating 3 1/2 weeks when he proposed, but he still wanted me to finish college. He said it would be a real feather in his cap to be a soldier who's wife had a college education. At the time, he was a high school drop out. Eventually, he was able to get his GED and an AA. College meant a lot more back then than it does today. However, he was transferred to El Paso, Texas, shortly after our engagement and my dad was out of work while the mill went on strike. I came home from college, never expecting to return.
Several months later, I followed him to El Paso, and we were married by a chaplain on Ft. Bliss. Thus began out adventures of travel and becoming one as Scripture mandates. I always wanted to travel and being married to a soldier made travel a high priority. We went from Ft. Bliss, Texas; to Butzbach, Germany; back to Ft. Bliss; to Ft. Huachuca, Arizona; to New Jersey; to Colorado; to Pennsylvania, back to Ft. Huachuca; to Ft. Shafter, Hawaii; to Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri where he retired from an honorable career with the United States Army. In between those major moves were several smaller, temporary moves. Even after the army, we had several more. Many of the families we knew in the service would separate for long periods of time for convenience' sake. Bob said, "We're family. We go together." I appreciate that. At times it was highly inconvenient, but it's not easy being both mother and father. The boys needed their dad and I needed my husband.
I admire my husband for his courage. Rickets and broken legs weren't the only things he's suffered in his life. In Hawaii, his ulcer perforated. He continued to work for 8 months with that perforated ulcer now forcing the pancreas to close the open sore, damaging the pancreas in an effort to keep the intestine from spewing its contents into the abdominal cavity. The doctor who performed the surgery was literally in a state of shock when he came out of surgery. "I don't know how he stood the pain." I had a few choice words (no swearing) but he understood what I thought of the military doctors who'd mocked him and accused him of malingering. To prove them wrong, Bob continued to work.
In Chicago, he had a ruptured diverticulum. Again he endured excruciating pain for weeks. I finally had the opportunity to return to college to finish my degree and he suffered in silence, concerned that he was dying of cancer, but determined to keep me going to school with only school on my mind. Little did he know! My dad had passed away the previous December and the plan was that I would visit my mother during Spring break. Fat chance. By now, he had lost so much weight, he was literally skin and bones. I cancelled my trip and he had surgery the Monday after Easter. The doctor again was amazed. "He should have been popped out like he was 9 months pregnant, able to keep nothing down, and running a sky high temperature, but he had no symptoms." He also said it would take at least 6 weeks for Bob to be able to return to work. He was back in 3.
Bob's taught me a lot over the years regarding work. As NCOIC of his department, he'd not be required to be at work until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, but he'd be there by 5:30. All his paper work would be completed without the interruptions he knew would be the order of the day once the rest of the hospital was up and running. When he was stationed in Ft. Leonard Wood, our home was 30 miles away, meaning he'd have to leave very early in the morning to be at work by 5:30. Even in Chicago, as a civilian, he'd leave for work at the 100+ year old Cook County Hospital. Not only was the hospital old, nurses and doctors were as incompetent on machinery as I am. "There's only one way to put the paper in the machine, but they'd get it in backwards and wonder why the machine didn't work." He'd often be called out to fix a non-functioning piece of equipment, only to find out it wasn't plugged in. That's the sort of things he faced all day, so he wanted his paperwork out of the way first. Staying late was not his thing. He firmly believed in doing the job and going home, even if it meant going to work very early.
His sense of humor has not only kept us laughing, but it's been his way of expressing tenderness. Men his age aren't supposed to have feelings. My first pregnancy was difficult. I was so sick, I lost 20 pounds in the first three months. Although he hated shopping, he did that particular Sunday that was very rough for me. It was Mother's Day. He walked into our tiny apartment, carrying a cake. "You can only eat 1/3 of it because you're only 1/3 of a mother."
When the priest admonished the bride and groom at their wedding that the Bible says the husband is to be like Christ, Bob whispered, "Big deal. You get to go home and do dishes for me. I get to go out and die for you!"
The day he took a 15 mph exit ramp on 2 wheels, he asked me if I was scared. "Me, too," he said at he patted my let. When he forgot to set the brakes on the ATV and it headed for the canyon, leaving us stranded in the wilderness, he asked if I'd had my adrenaline fix for the day after we got it stopped before disaster happened.
Bless his heart, he's been with me through thick and thin. Literally. Like I said, when he quit smoking, it was over. Not so for me with food. He once said he'd love me no matter what I weighed. I'm grateful for that, but won't stop trying to make him proud of me. I'm so very proud of him.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
80!
If others don't get tired of hearing me talking about how quickly time goes, I get tired of saying it. But, it's true. My husband will be 80 on Wednesday! Our eldest son and his wife came down from Jacksonville yesterday, took us out to lunch and visited with us for several hours. My daughter-in-law and I had been planning it for weeks. It was to be a surprise and it was. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a secret? Especially from him. He's very astute.
There was arranging for the birthday cake and making a reservation for lunch at Mulligan's, a very popular restaurant on the river. There were the phone conversations back and forth with my daughter-in-law without Dad knowing. I couldn't even tell people here at the ranch for fear someone would spill the beans!
We pulled it off. He was honored that his son would think of him and be willing to drive 3 hours just to spend time with him. Our daughter-in-law outdid herself with his gift as well. She'd been begging me to give her ideas for his gift, but I'm as clueless as anyone else on what wouldmake him happy. She bought him a basket full of junk food! Cheetos, jumbo cashews, chocolate covered cashews, candy coated cashews, pumpkin flavored candied popcorn, candy corn mixed with raisins and peanuts, and a whole lot more! Guess what we had for supper last night.
My husband of nearly 52 years does not look 80, does not act 80, and doesn't seems to feel 80. I hope it's not because our vision of 80 is what 80 looked like when we were still impressionable youth. As a teenager, I thought 25 was old! I hope we're not fooling ourselves. A friend remarked that he's still active and that makes a huge difference.
Sheila, our dog, gets a lot of credit for that. He walks her, plays with her, feeds her, has been to training with her. Then, too, he feeds the cows and polices the grounds which gets him outside and busy doing things that give him a sense of accomplishment.
He amazes himself that he's lived this long. Born with rickets, his legs had to be broken several times in order to straighten them. If they hadn't done that, his legs would have continued to bow outward, making it impossible for him to walk. At the time, the family lived in Oklahoma. The university hospital that did the surgeries was hours away from home. The family was poor. His aunt and mother would take him to the hospital, drop him off and come back to pick him up 6 weeks later. He was so young he didn't remember his own mother. His aunt said he'd call her "The Woman." His courage as an 18 month old earned him the honor of being the orthopaedic department's poster child.
The fact that he could only dog paddle did not deter him from jumping off railroad trestles into the Neosho River a few year later as a young boy. Nor did it excuse him from picking cotton as a four year old when the family was forced to become migrant farmers. Yes, he had a rough growing up, but it turned him into a fine man, the man who asked me to marry him almost 52 years ago.
He became an airplane mechanic and thought he should also be able to pilot those planes he fixed, so he did. In Hawaii, he couldn't wait to become a scuba diver. At the time, he was a smoker and his first attempt to pass the swim test nearly killed him. When reminded of it, he'd grumble that was only because he was trying to keep up with his competitive swimmer son who swam rings around him. He finally managed and it was there in the beautiful waters of Hawaii he first began to truly understand there is a Creator God. No human could possibly create what he saw, nor could it "just happen." It was just too magnificent. He also finally saw the damage cigarettes were doing to his lungs and gave it up. "Don't buy any more cigarettes for me until I say so," he told me one day in January of 1979.
That's one of the things I so admire about him. If he says he'll do it, he will. Oh, that I could do that with food! Another thing I admire about him is his compassion for children and hurting people. When the 8 month old daughter of friends died, he was crushed. He'd prayed for that child from the time we learned of the pregnancy until she died. At the funeral home, he couldn't approach the casket. He sat in the corner and cried.
He was escort for a P.O.W. returning from Viet Nam in 1973. Finances were tight and I'd just gotten a job at Sears and our oldest son had just broken his leg in the bone growth area, meaning he had to stay off it for the entire time the cast was on. An escort was almost a slave. He was required to be there when the man got out of bed in the morning, when he went to bed at night, and all times in between. Very wisely, my husband simply incorporated him into our family. He'd never been to a movie. I got a woman I worked with to be a blind date for him and we double dated at the movies. He brought him home for supper. He'd never done any kind of work around the house. Bob taught him how to use a lawn mower. We took him bowling. Anything to bring him up to speed after the 4 1/2 years he'd spent in the Hanoi Hilton. Without sacrificing his family.
After 52 years, he can still make me laugh. It may well be the glue that's held our marriage together. I have a sober, serious nature and it takes effort to make me laugh, but he does it. My favorite pictures of him are him playing with his children and grand children. I have such fond memories of our granddaughter sitting on his lap, watching television. Her eyes would be filled with sleep, her hair tangled and her nightie rumpled, but she'd snuggle up in the recliner with her grandpa and watch cartoons or "The Andy Griffith Show." What grown man wants to watch cartoons or reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show"?
In spite of the rough start, he's had a good life. Perhaps even because of it. He learned to roll with the punches. He learned to take risks and didn't blame others if they didn't work out. What a man! Happy Birthday, man of my dreams!
There was arranging for the birthday cake and making a reservation for lunch at Mulligan's, a very popular restaurant on the river. There were the phone conversations back and forth with my daughter-in-law without Dad knowing. I couldn't even tell people here at the ranch for fear someone would spill the beans!
We pulled it off. He was honored that his son would think of him and be willing to drive 3 hours just to spend time with him. Our daughter-in-law outdid herself with his gift as well. She'd been begging me to give her ideas for his gift, but I'm as clueless as anyone else on what wouldmake him happy. She bought him a basket full of junk food! Cheetos, jumbo cashews, chocolate covered cashews, candy coated cashews, pumpkin flavored candied popcorn, candy corn mixed with raisins and peanuts, and a whole lot more! Guess what we had for supper last night.
My husband of nearly 52 years does not look 80, does not act 80, and doesn't seems to feel 80. I hope it's not because our vision of 80 is what 80 looked like when we were still impressionable youth. As a teenager, I thought 25 was old! I hope we're not fooling ourselves. A friend remarked that he's still active and that makes a huge difference.
Sheila, our dog, gets a lot of credit for that. He walks her, plays with her, feeds her, has been to training with her. Then, too, he feeds the cows and polices the grounds which gets him outside and busy doing things that give him a sense of accomplishment.
He amazes himself that he's lived this long. Born with rickets, his legs had to be broken several times in order to straighten them. If they hadn't done that, his legs would have continued to bow outward, making it impossible for him to walk. At the time, the family lived in Oklahoma. The university hospital that did the surgeries was hours away from home. The family was poor. His aunt and mother would take him to the hospital, drop him off and come back to pick him up 6 weeks later. He was so young he didn't remember his own mother. His aunt said he'd call her "The Woman." His courage as an 18 month old earned him the honor of being the orthopaedic department's poster child.
The fact that he could only dog paddle did not deter him from jumping off railroad trestles into the Neosho River a few year later as a young boy. Nor did it excuse him from picking cotton as a four year old when the family was forced to become migrant farmers. Yes, he had a rough growing up, but it turned him into a fine man, the man who asked me to marry him almost 52 years ago.
He became an airplane mechanic and thought he should also be able to pilot those planes he fixed, so he did. In Hawaii, he couldn't wait to become a scuba diver. At the time, he was a smoker and his first attempt to pass the swim test nearly killed him. When reminded of it, he'd grumble that was only because he was trying to keep up with his competitive swimmer son who swam rings around him. He finally managed and it was there in the beautiful waters of Hawaii he first began to truly understand there is a Creator God. No human could possibly create what he saw, nor could it "just happen." It was just too magnificent. He also finally saw the damage cigarettes were doing to his lungs and gave it up. "Don't buy any more cigarettes for me until I say so," he told me one day in January of 1979.
That's one of the things I so admire about him. If he says he'll do it, he will. Oh, that I could do that with food! Another thing I admire about him is his compassion for children and hurting people. When the 8 month old daughter of friends died, he was crushed. He'd prayed for that child from the time we learned of the pregnancy until she died. At the funeral home, he couldn't approach the casket. He sat in the corner and cried.
He was escort for a P.O.W. returning from Viet Nam in 1973. Finances were tight and I'd just gotten a job at Sears and our oldest son had just broken his leg in the bone growth area, meaning he had to stay off it for the entire time the cast was on. An escort was almost a slave. He was required to be there when the man got out of bed in the morning, when he went to bed at night, and all times in between. Very wisely, my husband simply incorporated him into our family. He'd never been to a movie. I got a woman I worked with to be a blind date for him and we double dated at the movies. He brought him home for supper. He'd never done any kind of work around the house. Bob taught him how to use a lawn mower. We took him bowling. Anything to bring him up to speed after the 4 1/2 years he'd spent in the Hanoi Hilton. Without sacrificing his family.
After 52 years, he can still make me laugh. It may well be the glue that's held our marriage together. I have a sober, serious nature and it takes effort to make me laugh, but he does it. My favorite pictures of him are him playing with his children and grand children. I have such fond memories of our granddaughter sitting on his lap, watching television. Her eyes would be filled with sleep, her hair tangled and her nightie rumpled, but she'd snuggle up in the recliner with her grandpa and watch cartoons or "The Andy Griffith Show." What grown man wants to watch cartoons or reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show"?
In spite of the rough start, he's had a good life. Perhaps even because of it. He learned to roll with the punches. He learned to take risks and didn't blame others if they didn't work out. What a man! Happy Birthday, man of my dreams!
Friday, October 16, 2015
What's ahead?
This morning's conversation about a news blurb brought to mind the old hymn, "Am I a soldier of the cross, a follower of the Lamb? And shall I fear to own His cause, or blush to speak His name?" Verse two has run through my mind the most: "Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fight to win the prize And sail through bloody seas?"
Apparently, the Obama administration is attempting to do something about "terrorism from the right." Steve Doocy said that would include the religious right. The other two he mentioned, I can't remember. "Constitutionalists" may have been one of the other two.
My friend said she thought I believed in a pre-tribulation Rapture. I do. But, that does NOT mean those who leave this world in the Rapture are going to escape suffering. Can you imagine the Apostle Paul asking how I suffered while I was on earth and the best I could tell him was that I did not become a best-selling author instantly? Down through history, people have suffered for the Name of Jesus Christ. Am I to escape because I'm a law-abiding patriotic American?
That's not to say I look forward to being labeled a terrorist and the accompanying abuse, ridicule, and possible punishment. I've often said I'm God's weakest and whiniest child. I do not enjoy suffering. Hang nails are my idea of major pain. However, Jesus said not to fret about the future. IF anything happens in America like it's happening in other places in the world, not to worry. He will give me the words to say to bring glory to His Name. That's all I ask.
With all that's going on in the world around us, I personally believe it won't be long now. Who would have thought 30 years ago that America would turn on Israel? The Bible says the nations that curse Israel will be cursed. America's asking for it.
Who would have thought that telling others about the love of Jesus would be considered terrorism? Apparently, it's coming.
If it comes, and I will be more surprised if it doesn't, I ask that the Lord keep me faithful. Let me go out with a smile on my face and a song on my lips. In Islamic countries, Muslims are turning to Jesus Christ in droves. Many are experiencing visions. Research about those visions are leading them to Christ.
Down through the ages, the suffering church has always been the strongest church, although rarely the largest. In the 1960's, the Congo was rife with violence, much of it against the church. A missionary from there said the church was reduced in size by half, but oh, the strength and the faith of that smaller church!
On the other hand, Corrie ten Boom said that as soon as the Nazi boots invaded the Netherlands, the churches were full. People tend to turn to the Lord in a crisis. Remember Congress on the Capitol steps singing, "God Bless America"? I guess those who are attending church for any reason other than truly worshipping the Lord are those who get scared off when trials and tribulations come.
For all that, I go back to what I've been witnessing lately. God is working. His plan is unfolding. We are seeing more Christian movies produced. Miracles are happening in the Sudan, in Togo, in parts of the world we don't even know about. Satan may think he's winning, but he's wrong.
As for me, I want to feel privileged to be in this day and age. God has a purpose for me and I want to fulfill it. No matter what it costs me. He's worth it.
Apparently, the Obama administration is attempting to do something about "terrorism from the right." Steve Doocy said that would include the religious right. The other two he mentioned, I can't remember. "Constitutionalists" may have been one of the other two.
My friend said she thought I believed in a pre-tribulation Rapture. I do. But, that does NOT mean those who leave this world in the Rapture are going to escape suffering. Can you imagine the Apostle Paul asking how I suffered while I was on earth and the best I could tell him was that I did not become a best-selling author instantly? Down through history, people have suffered for the Name of Jesus Christ. Am I to escape because I'm a law-abiding patriotic American?
That's not to say I look forward to being labeled a terrorist and the accompanying abuse, ridicule, and possible punishment. I've often said I'm God's weakest and whiniest child. I do not enjoy suffering. Hang nails are my idea of major pain. However, Jesus said not to fret about the future. IF anything happens in America like it's happening in other places in the world, not to worry. He will give me the words to say to bring glory to His Name. That's all I ask.
With all that's going on in the world around us, I personally believe it won't be long now. Who would have thought 30 years ago that America would turn on Israel? The Bible says the nations that curse Israel will be cursed. America's asking for it.
Who would have thought that telling others about the love of Jesus would be considered terrorism? Apparently, it's coming.
If it comes, and I will be more surprised if it doesn't, I ask that the Lord keep me faithful. Let me go out with a smile on my face and a song on my lips. In Islamic countries, Muslims are turning to Jesus Christ in droves. Many are experiencing visions. Research about those visions are leading them to Christ.
Down through the ages, the suffering church has always been the strongest church, although rarely the largest. In the 1960's, the Congo was rife with violence, much of it against the church. A missionary from there said the church was reduced in size by half, but oh, the strength and the faith of that smaller church!
On the other hand, Corrie ten Boom said that as soon as the Nazi boots invaded the Netherlands, the churches were full. People tend to turn to the Lord in a crisis. Remember Congress on the Capitol steps singing, "God Bless America"? I guess those who are attending church for any reason other than truly worshipping the Lord are those who get scared off when trials and tribulations come.
For all that, I go back to what I've been witnessing lately. God is working. His plan is unfolding. We are seeing more Christian movies produced. Miracles are happening in the Sudan, in Togo, in parts of the world we don't even know about. Satan may think he's winning, but he's wrong.
As for me, I want to feel privileged to be in this day and age. God has a purpose for me and I want to fulfill it. No matter what it costs me. He's worth it.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Look up!
When things get as crazy as they have been of late, Christians sometimes tend to get discouraged, but this morning, I was so very encouraged as I read my Bible and spent time in prayer. Yes, this is a very challenging time, but we serve the same Lord that the Apostle Paul served and our challenges are no where near what he endured.
Sunday, we had a missionary speak and then show slides at church. It's amazing what God is doing in Togo, Africa. Recently, I had a magazine from "Voice of the Martyrs" about the Middle East. People there are suffering greatly, but rejoicing as they do. They are seeing Muslims turn to Christ in droves. God is at work in the Middle East.
Seeing more and more Christian movies come out of Hollywood says God is at work there, too.
All of that reminds me of Pilgrim's Progress. Christian observes a man in a cell, crawling around in the straw and mud, desperately looking for wealth when all the while, an angel hovers over him with a gold crown. All he has to do is look up!
I want to be one of those who looks up. I'm tired of being dragged down by the news and the media twisting it to make it seem even worse than it is. Scare mongering. Regardless what happens, I'm very sure of two things. 1. God put me here on this earth at this time in history for His purposes. 2. He will never leave me. So, why should I be down because things are not working out the way I think they should? Haven't I been saying over and over again that God's way is best? If I say it, I must also believe it.
That's one of the reasons I love reading the letters missionaries send to the church. No matter what's going on in my life, no matter how bleak things look, I am blessed to know that God is at work at some place in the world. He's working here, too. Sometimes we don't see it because He's not working in the way we want Him to.
My boss recently told me about Daniel Webster, who is seeking to be Speaker of the House. Even Fox News is ignoring him. They want Paul Ryan. Trouble is, Paul Ryan doesn't want the job. As I prayed, I realized that if it's the Lord's will that Daniel Webster be the next Speaker of the House, no one will keep him out. It just takes so much off my shoulders to trust the Lord to work things out, instead of campaigning, whining, and generally making a nuisance of myself in front of God and everybody.
It's the same for the elections that are coming up. God will choose our leaders for His purpose and I will continue to look up.
Sunday, we had a missionary speak and then show slides at church. It's amazing what God is doing in Togo, Africa. Recently, I had a magazine from "Voice of the Martyrs" about the Middle East. People there are suffering greatly, but rejoicing as they do. They are seeing Muslims turn to Christ in droves. God is at work in the Middle East.
Seeing more and more Christian movies come out of Hollywood says God is at work there, too.
All of that reminds me of Pilgrim's Progress. Christian observes a man in a cell, crawling around in the straw and mud, desperately looking for wealth when all the while, an angel hovers over him with a gold crown. All he has to do is look up!
I want to be one of those who looks up. I'm tired of being dragged down by the news and the media twisting it to make it seem even worse than it is. Scare mongering. Regardless what happens, I'm very sure of two things. 1. God put me here on this earth at this time in history for His purposes. 2. He will never leave me. So, why should I be down because things are not working out the way I think they should? Haven't I been saying over and over again that God's way is best? If I say it, I must also believe it.
That's one of the reasons I love reading the letters missionaries send to the church. No matter what's going on in my life, no matter how bleak things look, I am blessed to know that God is at work at some place in the world. He's working here, too. Sometimes we don't see it because He's not working in the way we want Him to.
My boss recently told me about Daniel Webster, who is seeking to be Speaker of the House. Even Fox News is ignoring him. They want Paul Ryan. Trouble is, Paul Ryan doesn't want the job. As I prayed, I realized that if it's the Lord's will that Daniel Webster be the next Speaker of the House, no one will keep him out. It just takes so much off my shoulders to trust the Lord to work things out, instead of campaigning, whining, and generally making a nuisance of myself in front of God and everybody.
It's the same for the elections that are coming up. God will choose our leaders for His purpose and I will continue to look up.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Open Windows
The windows of heaven opened on me this past week, especially today, and blessings have fallen too much to keep to myself. I have the privilege of being the missionary liaison at our church, which means that I read all the letters and literature that comes in, report any special situations to the pastor and about once a month, inform the congregation of the work God is doing in some place in the world. That ministry, in of itself, is a tremendous blessing. It opens my eyes to an entirely new perspective regarding the lives of others. Americans often boast about our country being the greatest in the world. All too often, we forget to thank God for what He has done for our country.
This morning, a missionary from the country of Togo spoke in the morning service. He is caring for almost 300 children and has only recently been able to install toilets for 300 children! The pastor asked him about air conditioning in Africa. Of course, there is none. I can't imagine living in a country on the equator without air conditioning. It was hard enough for 9 days in Florida.
Earlier in the week, I had the privilege of listening to a man who is a travels between Chattanooga, Tennessee, and Nicaragua. The pastor announced that since I had been so wonderfully blessed listening to this missionary, I would soon be giving a report on what I learned!
Yesterday was the flea market where I sell my books and am privileged to meet so many wonderful people, one of whom is the daughter of a woman who has sold many Christian books. She put me in contact with her mother, who has, in turn, helped me in many ways to seek other avenues to sell future books. Not only did she like my book, she sent it to her mother, and suggested the possibility that her sister might be willing to do the cover of my next book!
Before the message, there is a time of welcoming where we meet and greet others in the congregation. A woman approached me and said she wanted me to start a woman's group! Wow! Where did that come from? I would love to do that, but only if that's what the Lord wants me to do. But, how honored I am that she would ask me. She said there was too much wisdom among older women in the church that's not be utilized. She's right, but I'm not the only 70+ woman in that church and she chose me!
It was a delight to see Esther, the missionary's daughter there today. She's in college in Mississippi and since I hadn't heard from her, I didn't expect to see her there. But, there she was. Such a beautiful young woman. I'm honored that she allows me to call her a friend. How many 20 year olds want to be friends with great-grandmothers?
Today is one of those Sundays that a dinner is served in the dining hall after church. This happens almost every other Sunday, giving the congregation still more opportunity to bond with each other. There, I spoke with a dear woman who agreed that she very much wanted to be a part of a woman's group. On top of that, she knows a pastor of one of the largest churches in a nearby community. She is trying to open that door so that I can speak to that church! Again, I'm humbled and amazed.
While she and I were talking, another woman and her daughter approached. I stepped back, assuming she wanted to speak with my friend, but she informed me she wanted to talk to me. Her first Sunday at our church after she moved from South Carolina, I spoke about miracles God was working in South Sudan. She contacted her church in South Carolina and they, too, were blessed to hear what God was doing for men and women who are suffering greatly in that part of the world.
It turns out, her daughter is a budding author who is looking for Christian fiction. She bought my book! They, too are wanting a woman's group to be started. When I got home and got online, I was invited to join a group that promotes studying Scripture and applying it to our lives. An ad on the side was for Christian fiction readers and authors. Can't wait to tell my new friends about the Website and to loan her my Jan Karon books.
There's an old chorus that's been running through my mind as I've been writing this.
"The Windows of Heaven Are Open
There's blessing that's falling tonight
There's joy, joy, joy in my heart,
Since Jesus made everything right,
I put off my old tattered garments,
He gave me a robe of pure white,
I'm feasting on heavenly manna
And, that's why I'm happy tonight."
Supposedly, D.L. Moody was so overjoyed at all God was doing in his life, he stepped into a Chicago alley knelt and prayed, "Oh God, stay Your hand lest I perish." I'm beginning to understand what he was talking about. Thank You, Lord. Your amazing grace is overwhelming. I can do no more than say, "thanks."
This morning, a missionary from the country of Togo spoke in the morning service. He is caring for almost 300 children and has only recently been able to install toilets for 300 children! The pastor asked him about air conditioning in Africa. Of course, there is none. I can't imagine living in a country on the equator without air conditioning. It was hard enough for 9 days in Florida.
Earlier in the week, I had the privilege of listening to a man who is a travels between Chattanooga, Tennessee, and Nicaragua. The pastor announced that since I had been so wonderfully blessed listening to this missionary, I would soon be giving a report on what I learned!
Yesterday was the flea market where I sell my books and am privileged to meet so many wonderful people, one of whom is the daughter of a woman who has sold many Christian books. She put me in contact with her mother, who has, in turn, helped me in many ways to seek other avenues to sell future books. Not only did she like my book, she sent it to her mother, and suggested the possibility that her sister might be willing to do the cover of my next book!
Before the message, there is a time of welcoming where we meet and greet others in the congregation. A woman approached me and said she wanted me to start a woman's group! Wow! Where did that come from? I would love to do that, but only if that's what the Lord wants me to do. But, how honored I am that she would ask me. She said there was too much wisdom among older women in the church that's not be utilized. She's right, but I'm not the only 70+ woman in that church and she chose me!
It was a delight to see Esther, the missionary's daughter there today. She's in college in Mississippi and since I hadn't heard from her, I didn't expect to see her there. But, there she was. Such a beautiful young woman. I'm honored that she allows me to call her a friend. How many 20 year olds want to be friends with great-grandmothers?
Today is one of those Sundays that a dinner is served in the dining hall after church. This happens almost every other Sunday, giving the congregation still more opportunity to bond with each other. There, I spoke with a dear woman who agreed that she very much wanted to be a part of a woman's group. On top of that, she knows a pastor of one of the largest churches in a nearby community. She is trying to open that door so that I can speak to that church! Again, I'm humbled and amazed.
While she and I were talking, another woman and her daughter approached. I stepped back, assuming she wanted to speak with my friend, but she informed me she wanted to talk to me. Her first Sunday at our church after she moved from South Carolina, I spoke about miracles God was working in South Sudan. She contacted her church in South Carolina and they, too, were blessed to hear what God was doing for men and women who are suffering greatly in that part of the world.
It turns out, her daughter is a budding author who is looking for Christian fiction. She bought my book! They, too are wanting a woman's group to be started. When I got home and got online, I was invited to join a group that promotes studying Scripture and applying it to our lives. An ad on the side was for Christian fiction readers and authors. Can't wait to tell my new friends about the Website and to loan her my Jan Karon books.
There's an old chorus that's been running through my mind as I've been writing this.
"The Windows of Heaven Are Open
There's blessing that's falling tonight
There's joy, joy, joy in my heart,
Since Jesus made everything right,
I put off my old tattered garments,
He gave me a robe of pure white,
I'm feasting on heavenly manna
And, that's why I'm happy tonight."
Supposedly, D.L. Moody was so overjoyed at all God was doing in his life, he stepped into a Chicago alley knelt and prayed, "Oh God, stay Your hand lest I perish." I'm beginning to understand what he was talking about. Thank You, Lord. Your amazing grace is overwhelming. I can do no more than say, "thanks."
Sunday, October 4, 2015
I can, too!
It never ceases to perplex me to know that so many people hate to read. I've lost count of the number of people who've bought my book just for the autograph, but haven't opened the book since they bought it!
I couldn't wait to learn to read. My mother often said I came home from school the first day, tried to read the comics in the newspaper and was very upset at being unsuccessful.
The time I remember is when I tried to convince my brother that I could read. I don't think I'd even started school. The book was called, The Little Lost Puppy. I would have someone one read it to me until I had the first page memorized. I took the book to my brother who is six years older than me and insisted I could read. Every time he'd say, "You can't read," I would yell, "I can, too!" To prove it, I quoted that first page, quite pleased with myself. Then, he turned the page and said, "OK, Smarty, read this page."
Busted.
Down, but not out. Dad loved to read. He borrowed his mother's books and let me read them. I was intrigued by the mysteries of Ellery Queen and Miss Jane Marple. My brother's copies of The Sugar Creek Gang often found their way into my hands, as did anything about Nancy Drew. Heidi, Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn were favorites that I read repeatedly. The adventures of Jack London's hero's sent my imagination soaring and Grace Livingston Hill romances made me sigh and dream of the man who would someday sweep me off my feet. Her heroes were so perfect and so were her heroines. Sophisticated people claimed Hill's books rotted the brain, but they made a strong impression on me and my friends about the importance of purity before marriage.
But, the books I love the most are missionary biographies. Since I've been tutoring at Shiloh, I've been reintroduced to them. Hudson Taylor, D.L. Moody, George Mueller, Brother Andrew, and of course, the five martyrs in Eduador: Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youdarian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully. I think I enjoy reading about missionaries most because they humble me. Not put me down to make themselves feel better. Their lives are so Christ-like and I know I am no where near their walk with the Lord. I stumble and fall over and over again.
Who among us today would refuse to fire a gun-even to scare away men determined to hack us to death with machetes? Who among us today would refuse to ask one single person, or even hint at a financial need when asked, like George Mueller or Brother Andrew? Today's media devices rule out completely saying good-bye to our mother, knowing we'd never see them again, like Hudson Taylor. And, who among us would have the audacity to rent the World's Fair tent in Chicago to have evangelistic meetings in the mornings, knowing full well there would be all kinds of entertainment in the afternoon like D.L. Moody did?
That's what I mean by being humbled. They don't say an unkind or critical word, they just go about the business God called them to, and they accomplish great things. They inspire me as well as humble me. I know I have a lot to learn to live as close to the Lord as they were, and I keep trying.
Never thought of it before, but maybe now's the time to say, "I can, too!"
I couldn't wait to learn to read. My mother often said I came home from school the first day, tried to read the comics in the newspaper and was very upset at being unsuccessful.
The time I remember is when I tried to convince my brother that I could read. I don't think I'd even started school. The book was called, The Little Lost Puppy. I would have someone one read it to me until I had the first page memorized. I took the book to my brother who is six years older than me and insisted I could read. Every time he'd say, "You can't read," I would yell, "I can, too!" To prove it, I quoted that first page, quite pleased with myself. Then, he turned the page and said, "OK, Smarty, read this page."
Busted.
Down, but not out. Dad loved to read. He borrowed his mother's books and let me read them. I was intrigued by the mysteries of Ellery Queen and Miss Jane Marple. My brother's copies of The Sugar Creek Gang often found their way into my hands, as did anything about Nancy Drew. Heidi, Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn were favorites that I read repeatedly. The adventures of Jack London's hero's sent my imagination soaring and Grace Livingston Hill romances made me sigh and dream of the man who would someday sweep me off my feet. Her heroes were so perfect and so were her heroines. Sophisticated people claimed Hill's books rotted the brain, but they made a strong impression on me and my friends about the importance of purity before marriage.
But, the books I love the most are missionary biographies. Since I've been tutoring at Shiloh, I've been reintroduced to them. Hudson Taylor, D.L. Moody, George Mueller, Brother Andrew, and of course, the five martyrs in Eduador: Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youdarian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully. I think I enjoy reading about missionaries most because they humble me. Not put me down to make themselves feel better. Their lives are so Christ-like and I know I am no where near their walk with the Lord. I stumble and fall over and over again.
Who among us today would refuse to fire a gun-even to scare away men determined to hack us to death with machetes? Who among us today would refuse to ask one single person, or even hint at a financial need when asked, like George Mueller or Brother Andrew? Today's media devices rule out completely saying good-bye to our mother, knowing we'd never see them again, like Hudson Taylor. And, who among us would have the audacity to rent the World's Fair tent in Chicago to have evangelistic meetings in the mornings, knowing full well there would be all kinds of entertainment in the afternoon like D.L. Moody did?
That's what I mean by being humbled. They don't say an unkind or critical word, they just go about the business God called them to, and they accomplish great things. They inspire me as well as humble me. I know I have a lot to learn to live as close to the Lord as they were, and I keep trying.
Never thought of it before, but maybe now's the time to say, "I can, too!"
Friday, October 2, 2015
Off the rails
While the rest of the country is reeling in shock over yet another mass shooting, the President is gleefully politicizing his desire for gun control. I'm not exaggerating. The man was actually smiling as he spoke. How sad. And hypocritical. Both Dana Perino and Glen Beck remarked that more were killed in Chicago last month, although by different shooters at different times, but tragically, many more people. Not a word said about that. Doesn't fit the agenda.
It got me to thinking. When the President was an elected official in Illinois, he voted for the killing of babies who survived termination attempts. How is that any different or humane than what that tortured soul did in Oregon yesterday? He ended the lives of several supposedly because they were Christians. A terminated pregnancy is life ended at the convenience of the mother and the profit of the abortionist.
Hilary Clinton said she couldn't change hearts and she's right. She can't. But, God can and He wants to. So much has gone off the rails in this country since we've become too civilized and too intelligent for belief in God. Take the shootings as an example. I have repeatedly remarked that when I was in school, boys had rifles on racks in the back windows of their pick ups. Our biology teacher was the sponsor of the high school NRA. He was very strict. Any member who pointed a gun, loaded or otherwise, at another person was automatically kicked out of the NRA and barred from ever returning, at least in the high school setting.
When I was in high school, there were many girls who got pregnant and then married before the baby came. Then comes Roe vs. Wade and the terminations were at some point over a million a year. Women my age are the better for having those children. Now, those children are companions and assistance to the mothers who chose to give them birth. Even better, those women have no regrets over the choice they made that cannot be undone.
God created the woman's body to carry the infant until it could grow on it's own. None of us escaped the fetal stage or just hatched. We too, started as a single cell and went through the entire process, just like babies do today.
So, how did America go off the rails? It's easy to see when we talk about termination vs. life, isn't it? Is it as easy to see in the gun control issue? Perhaps not. I grew up in a culture of guns. Dad hunted, my brothers hunted, my husband hunted, and both my sons are hunters. I trust them all with guns. I do not trust those politicians who wish to take them away from responsible people. Why? It won't help. We are so far off the rails when it comes to respecting life, taking guns away from everyone will not change a thing. More people are killed by drunk and drugged drivers than guns. Shall we all go back to walking or riding bikes to stop vehicular homicides? Shall we take drugs off the market because some choose to abuse them and commit suicide? Personally, I wouldn't care if alcohol were taken off the market, but then I don't drink. Those who do would find some other way to medicate their pain.
Therein lies the problem. It's not a matter of the method, not the instrument. No matter what method or instrument is removed, the tortured soul will find some way to kill himself or others. Why? There's no understanding of a loving God who longs to give them a better way.
What, then, do we do? Returning to God would be the best possible start. As a high school student, I'm sure the majority of the students my age attended church faithfully. They learned to respect authority and life. They had moral barriers that controlled those emotions that threaten to get out of hand for all of us on occasion. Even those girls who got pregnant before they married had moral barriers that enabled them to give life to the child in their womb. Yes, illegal abortions were around in those days. They've been around for centuries, but weren't done or even promoted. It was unthinkable to a woman who respected life.
By now, pro-abortion people are screaming that women will resort to the back alleys and death. If their hearts are not changed, if there is no desire to hear from a loving God, no respect for life, I agree that's a strong possibility. The point I'm trying to make is that taking the life of another is never a good answer for anyone, regardless of the method.
Therefore, respecting the Giver of Life is the way to start cleaning up this mess we've created for ourselves. Parents have all at one time or another, had a child come to them and request we fix something they broke. The child tried to hard to fix it on their own, to no avail. Finally, in desperation, grubby little hands and tear-stained little faces would timidly approach Mommy or Daddy with the broken toy and the request to "Fix it."
Perhaps it's time we come before our heavenly Father with tear stained faces and request He fix it. It's the only way it can happen.
It got me to thinking. When the President was an elected official in Illinois, he voted for the killing of babies who survived termination attempts. How is that any different or humane than what that tortured soul did in Oregon yesterday? He ended the lives of several supposedly because they were Christians. A terminated pregnancy is life ended at the convenience of the mother and the profit of the abortionist.
Hilary Clinton said she couldn't change hearts and she's right. She can't. But, God can and He wants to. So much has gone off the rails in this country since we've become too civilized and too intelligent for belief in God. Take the shootings as an example. I have repeatedly remarked that when I was in school, boys had rifles on racks in the back windows of their pick ups. Our biology teacher was the sponsor of the high school NRA. He was very strict. Any member who pointed a gun, loaded or otherwise, at another person was automatically kicked out of the NRA and barred from ever returning, at least in the high school setting.
When I was in high school, there were many girls who got pregnant and then married before the baby came. Then comes Roe vs. Wade and the terminations were at some point over a million a year. Women my age are the better for having those children. Now, those children are companions and assistance to the mothers who chose to give them birth. Even better, those women have no regrets over the choice they made that cannot be undone.
God created the woman's body to carry the infant until it could grow on it's own. None of us escaped the fetal stage or just hatched. We too, started as a single cell and went through the entire process, just like babies do today.
So, how did America go off the rails? It's easy to see when we talk about termination vs. life, isn't it? Is it as easy to see in the gun control issue? Perhaps not. I grew up in a culture of guns. Dad hunted, my brothers hunted, my husband hunted, and both my sons are hunters. I trust them all with guns. I do not trust those politicians who wish to take them away from responsible people. Why? It won't help. We are so far off the rails when it comes to respecting life, taking guns away from everyone will not change a thing. More people are killed by drunk and drugged drivers than guns. Shall we all go back to walking or riding bikes to stop vehicular homicides? Shall we take drugs off the market because some choose to abuse them and commit suicide? Personally, I wouldn't care if alcohol were taken off the market, but then I don't drink. Those who do would find some other way to medicate their pain.
Therein lies the problem. It's not a matter of the method, not the instrument. No matter what method or instrument is removed, the tortured soul will find some way to kill himself or others. Why? There's no understanding of a loving God who longs to give them a better way.
What, then, do we do? Returning to God would be the best possible start. As a high school student, I'm sure the majority of the students my age attended church faithfully. They learned to respect authority and life. They had moral barriers that controlled those emotions that threaten to get out of hand for all of us on occasion. Even those girls who got pregnant before they married had moral barriers that enabled them to give life to the child in their womb. Yes, illegal abortions were around in those days. They've been around for centuries, but weren't done or even promoted. It was unthinkable to a woman who respected life.
By now, pro-abortion people are screaming that women will resort to the back alleys and death. If their hearts are not changed, if there is no desire to hear from a loving God, no respect for life, I agree that's a strong possibility. The point I'm trying to make is that taking the life of another is never a good answer for anyone, regardless of the method.
Therefore, respecting the Giver of Life is the way to start cleaning up this mess we've created for ourselves. Parents have all at one time or another, had a child come to them and request we fix something they broke. The child tried to hard to fix it on their own, to no avail. Finally, in desperation, grubby little hands and tear-stained little faces would timidly approach Mommy or Daddy with the broken toy and the request to "Fix it."
Perhaps it's time we come before our heavenly Father with tear stained faces and request He fix it. It's the only way it can happen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)