Facebook

I have been fasting Facebook for the past two days. It is not some cool spiritual growth attempt, my account simply will not sign in. Others have told me they cannot access my account on line. When I try to get to my account I get a message that says the account is not available due to some server maintenance, that it should be available in a few hours, and that they are sorry for the inconvenience.

Wow - this leaves me only one choice -

Go live my life in the real world!! Scary... Maybe I'll see you out there?! Sorry, don't want to make anyone nervous.

Maybe I should calculate how much time I spend on FB and give that to some more worthy cause. Can any of you suggest something - anything - more worthy than the time we all spend online? Yeah. OK. I'll get back with you on that.

Have a great weekend. If you are anywhere near Ventura, come check out our "Trunk or Treat." It is a family friendly festival. Free admission, live music, candy for everyone, food is available for a few bucks - come have some fun. I'll be dressed as the guy who can't get on Facebook.

The Drill

The drill.

I was sitting in a small group meeting last night, and we were watching a DVD by John Bevere from the "A Heart Ablaze" series. He mentioned that the church today seems to be selling a 'great cover-up.' Seems we offer Jesus at the altar in much the same way that a used-car salesman offers a 'deal.'

"Come to Jesus and He'll give you peace, joy, happiness, money - everything you want need desire."

But that's not what happens. In reality, the deal works something like this: Come to Jesus and He will give you the power to serve Him. Your life will be complete, but it will be that way because you will be working the way God designed you to work - and that does involve a new lifestyle. Faith without works is dead, as Paul tells us, so why are we producing a generation of Christians who seem to think that "serving God" equals getting?

Bevere gave several good illustrations, but one really hit home. He said that many of these new-fangled Christians keep living a life of sin even after committing to God at an altar. They offer the excuse that "God knows my heart."

He said something along the line of, "if you have a tree in your yard you don't have to take a drill and go drill a hole into the center of the thing to probe around and find out what kind of tree you have. If the thing is an apple tree, you'll know it how? Because the tree will produce Apples."

Great series. Check it out. Keep your Bible close by, but get motivated to a lifestyle which reflects who is the Lord of that life.

What fruit is your life producing?

Soft Button

Soft buttons are all the rage. I sell hot tubs, and they have a new control panel which contains a Gooey, or GUI, or "graphical user interface." It is a small screen with nice color, and nice graphics. And around it are four buttons. Around that are four more. The outermost buttons are called "hard buttons" because the purpose for each of them is hardwired into the system. One of them is labeled "Jets" and anytime you press it you will turn the jets on or off according to their current status. There is a button labeled "Light" and another labeled "Back." They always do the same thing.

But those inner four buttons are soft buttons, meaning that they are controlled by the software, and can do anything the software tells them to do. So one button can raise or lower the water temp if you are on the temperature settings menu page. If you are on the system control page that same button may change the color of the tub's lighting system, raise the volume on the stereo, or even engage a timed interval of filtration called the "clean cycle." Same button.

This is certainly not exclusive to Hot Tubs - computers have soft buttons, GPS units have them - some of them are on-screen and are touch-sensitive. I would be willing to bet that you have already come in contact with some form of soft button on some piece of technology. If not, you will. I have a nine-year-old car, and the big knob on the front of the stereo is a type of soft button. It is normally the volume. But if I tap the "treble" button, that big knob now controls THAT function. Tap the "bass" button, and that large knob is now the bass control. One knob, many functions. All controlled by the software.

So - who wrote the software for our lives? Well, I would contend that God did. He created us, and he has a unique design for each one of us. So how is this concept of a 'soft button' related to us? Well - I am a father. I am a husband. I was a son. I am a brother. I am a board member at my church. I am a business owner. I am many things even though I am just one person. But the way God chooses to use me can vary from circumstance to circumstance. I have to only be wise enough to set my preconceptions aside long enough to be used. If I am a 'hard button, ' I may do a very good job.

One very good job.

Only one very good job.

But God may have fourteen good jobs for me to do. Today I may have to lead, tomorrow follow. Today I may need to be very strong in my convictions and take some unpopular stand. Tomorrow I may have to set those convictions aside to reach out and touch the life of a person who is deeply involved in the very thing I despise. Wow - that could make most of us cringe.

Or, it could make us very, very useful.

Pace yourself

I was walking with my lovely and gracious wife this morning before the sun came up. It was so freezing cold that I wimped out just as we got to a mile and a half. That's the one problem with choosing a route which circles by our house: there is a very large temptation to run in a get warm. I did - and it was a shock for my poor dog that her "dad's" hands were colder than her nose for the first time. The puzzled look as she kept pulling away was priceless. But - once I was warm, I couldn't be talked into going back out for another mile and a half.

Now, before I get emails telling me that "freezing cold" in Southern California doesn't even come close to the bone-chilling cold of other parts of the world, let me just say that I live here on purpose. I like temperate weather. No, there were no snow drifts, no ice on the puddles formed by the various lawn sprinklers which come on automatically at that time of day, no ice jewels dangling from the power lines or tree branches. But when you are used to 70 degrees average year 'round, it doesn't take much of a drop to bring out the babies.

Back to the walk - I walk with two partners - a good friend who is a tall man, and my wife. Walking with these two people has proven to be amazingly good: they challenge me, they keep me from giving up, they push me to do more, and on a cold day like today they block the freezing wind quite effectively. If we walk later in the day, and it gets warm, they can walk in my shadow to stay cool. In fact both of them can fit into my shadow at the same time, but that is changing.

But they have different natural strides than I do. I don't know if my legs are unusually short for my height, or if I was just built closer to the ground for better cornering or whatever, but the fact of the matter is that both of my walking partners have longer legs than I do. And I think that there is more to it than just the length of their legs - they just have a faster pace when they are walking at that comfortable speed which is our natural gait.

So to keep together, they tend to walk in little bursts. They go a bit, then slow or stop to let the old guy catch up. It is most enjoyable to watch, and heartwarming to know that they are so gracious. But I don't want to take advantage of them, so every so often I step it up to match their pace. They instantly know it, because the stop/start is instantly gone and we really get moving. Also I stop talking. I can keep pace with my wife for a mile or so, at the cost of a racing heart and hard breathing. I cannot talk when we are at this pace, and according to exercise experts, that is the best way to do it. They define that as "moderate exercise." If I could talk the whole time, I would not be working myself in a way that is beneficial. If I can talk in short phrases or just a few words at a time, I am getting a better cardiovascular workout - it's a great little built-in indicator. If I fall over and clutch my chest, well that's an indicator that I am getting overly dramatic. It happens.

There are times I wonder if my spiritual life is proceeding along similar lines. I walk at my own pace, and enjoy the grace of God in that He will stop and wait for me. But I have - of late - been getting the feeling more and more that He is calling me gently to try to keep up with Him. Not to die in the attempt, but to keep pace at the expense of ease and comfort. I can tell you that in the physical realm I would rather find a way to stay in my recliner eating sweets while losing weight and buffing out. But we all know that doesn't work. Likewise, in our spiritual journey we have times when God gets just a little ways ahead, and it's up to us to push it a little harder and keep pace with Him.

Well, I am committed to 'pushing it' in the physical. I want to be able to knock off four or five miles each morning, and I want to get to the point where I can keep pace with my wife, then, as I shape up, one day keep up with Tom, allowing him to finally walk at his natural pace and even beyond. At that point I may have to switch to a bike, but I do want to add in more strenuous exercise programs and actually get my wind back.

And in the spiritual? Well as strange as it seems, this blog was one step God called me to. I don't know who reads it or why, in fact I felt the call to do this even if nobody reads it at all! And it has become a part of my prayer life. I know that sounds very Chas (another word for 'odd'), but I pray conversationally just about all the time, and you get to see into that strange world a little bit via this odd collection of thoughts. Beyond that - I want to learn to advance and grow spiritually every day. I have been serving God for a long time now, and it would be easy for me to think I have come to some level, or reached some goal, or accomplished something. But God is so creative, I don't have to worry. If I just keep pace with Him, I will grow.

Lord - I want to match your pace.

Made whole

"Made Whole."

My Pastor had this as one of his sermon points yesterday, and it started a real thought process in my little Chas brain. I was going to say that it may not have been the direction he would have hoped my thoughts would go, but this man is such an awesome pastor that I know he would be glad for any mental growth in any direction, regardless of how he may have hoped it would go. He just hears from God and then lays it out - it is up to us to respond to God, not just to what Pastor is saying. And for me, it all works quite well.

But the part about being Made Whole was such an important point because it was just a first step. We so often want God to give us our daily desires, lead us in the paths of comfort and luxury, while He wants to make us whole instead. That path may be lined with cash and toys for some of you, but I have yet to be spoiled rotten as a way of making me whole.

What happens to people when they become whole? Amazing things. I was a pastor to a singles group for a number of years, and I can't imagine how many times I would tell a single that they should find wholeness in Christ before they looked for a mate in life. Two half-people do not make a whole. No, in God's economy, it takes two whole people to make a successful relationship. One plus one, in this case, may not make two. One plus one can make many- He is in the business of multiplying his blessing, so a relationship formed of two whole people can positively impact a whole generation.

So often these wonderful folks would look to find wholeness in marriage or in relationships, but their need never went away because often that need was what defined them. They often didn't see it. A good education, a good job, a home, all the wonderful things that our world can afford gave them a false sense of themselves. And yet they longed for something. They just didn't know it was wholeness in God they yearned for. Look at the high failure rate for marriage in and outside the church today: so often the lament is that the spouse, "didn't give me what I needed," or "never cared about my needs." God alone can make a person complete, whole.

What else happens when people become whole? They have more to give. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. It takes a full heart to speak at all, but it takes a heart full of Jesus to speak peace, healing, health, support, love, concern for others, or anything other than selfishness or self-motivated things.

A heart full of bitterness will speak bitterness. It may be very well camouflaged, it may even sound wonderful, but it will be bitterness which comes out of bitterness. So many great songs have been born of pain, and the reason some of them become big hits is that we can hear the pain and connect or identify with it. But if it is where we live now, it should act as a wake-up call. If it is where we were in the past, then use it as a reminder to thank God and keep moving.

A heart full of anger will speak anger. I don't know how much farther I need to go on - there are thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of things a heart can be full of - and so many of them can lead to wonderful Godly lives. Lives lived to the fullest extent of God's plan for you and me.

Ask God today -

"Show me what is flowing out of my heart. I want above all to become a whole person in you, and as a start, I want my heart to be full. Not full of wanting, or full of a huge black hole, but full of the thing YOU want to place there. Let me be a source of Godly change to the world around me as you fill my heart to overflowing with the things people around me need. If you can get it into my heart, you can get it into the lives of the people around me."

Amen.

Five miles. Yeah right.

OK - it's official. I have injured my knee. I know!! I was just as bummed about it as you! The fact is I might have been pushing it a bit too hard. I have been walking X miles per day, five days per week, and running up and down the stairs at work all day. The "X" is there because the three of us who walk various routes around my home cannot seem to agree on the exact distance. My wife likes to understate things - a reasonable way to live since it is always better if people find you have more or did better than you claim as opposed to the opposite - whereas I am the type who likes to round up. If I walk 4.9 miles, I will simply say, "I walked five miles today."

I am going to try to start taking her approach because I have given it some real thought over the past month or so, and it really seems to be more Christ-honoring to do it the way she does. So - I have NOT been walking five miles per day, I have been walking 4.9 miles, and there is one corner I sometimes cut which can drop it to as little as 4.85 miles. Oh the scandal of it all! I can see the headline:

"Ventura man confesses to overstating his mileage by a factor of .1 every day for the past three weeks. Federal inquiry to be launched by the Justice Department soon. Film at 11."

Oh- and in keeping with this new desire to understate, I must quickly add that the x-ray I have posted today is not my knee. It is some random knee, from some random person who has some random keen problem. It seemed like a nice eye-catcher so I posted it. OK? In fact, my knee is only sore, and I have great hope that taking Saturday and Sunday off from walking (and running the stairs at work) will allow me to get back out there on Monday morning. I normally don't walk on Saturday and Sunday (my Physical Therapist told me five days a week was sufficient for a man of my advancing years, coupled with my, uh, "widened horizons..."), so really, this sore knee is a bother, but hopefully will not be a setback in the battle of the flab.

So if you are at all interested in the inane ramblings of a soon-to-be-skinny guy with a temprary limp, I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, I am going to milk this for all it's worth. I'm going to go into work late, see if Tom will come over and mow my lawn, and have my wife bring me the remote. I'll let you know how that goes, as well.

Limp on!

Thanks

I am sitting here waiting for my wife to get dressed to go for a morning walk. The sun is already climbing in the sky, the dog has been fed and I am ready to go. I want to say that I am so blessed with people in my life. People, some related, some not, even some I created - people who give to me in many different ways. Some of them give to me just by needing me. That seems backwards, but think about how much we as humans need to needed, to feel that we have something to contribute to the lives of the people we love.

So - thanks.

Oh! She's ready to go - and the fact that she is working with me on this new exercise regimen is great too! This kind of support could add years to my life.

That's it - just thanks for being one of God's gifts in my life, all of you.

"Amazing"

"Amazing."

My daughter-in-law used the word to describe how she feels about the things you can now do on the Internet. No doubt you would agree, I know I do. There are truly amazing advancements being made in web-based applications, iPhone applications, hand-held computing, online backup and archiving, business tools, database storage and mining, marketing, blogging and tweeting and social networking and that would not even cover the first half of the first sentence if some real techie was writing this.

But she was sensitive to the fact that she uses the word 'amazing' to describe God, and she uses it in worship of God. So she was concerned that maybe she shouldn't use the same term to describe God and the Internet. I'm not going to make that call - I think it is a personal choice although I applaud her totally for being concerned about such things at all. It is good to want to set aside or 'consecrate' certain parts of your vocab to honor God.

But I was still sitting there in total agreement that the advance in the Internet of late are, in my opinion, amazing. Look at the picture I posted above, from Wikipedia - here is a larger copy. Her concern over the use of the same descriptor for these two very disparate things (one of whom is truly not a 'thing' so please pardon the clumsiness of the language) caused me to think. Most anything causes me to think. So very few things can cause me to act... That aside, I began to think.

Here is a simple example of the power of the Internet these days - I like to use it for Bible study. And I like "Bible Gateway.com." Notice that you can simply click on those words and you will be whisked to that site. Further notice that if I want to quote a single scripture out of the whole Bible, I only have to use the "embed" feature which BibleGateway.com provides. Like this:


²³ Congenial conversation—what a pleasure!
The right word at the right time—beautiful! (Proverbs 15:23, The Message)

And if I wanted to use a different translation, or add the context, or simply show the entire chapter, I could make a few more clicks and it would be done. Here is a link to an info page about this cool feature -
Info box

OK - so what am I saying? That one of the most beloved books in all of literature is totally available to search, word by word, verse by verse, and chapter by chapter at the touch of a button. And you can type in huge long URL (or have the web site create and enter those long addresses for you) and go to any part of the Word of God in a flash. And if there is no 'page' already to put this info together, one will be created in a nanosecond so you can have the info on your screen, send others to it, and go back to it in the future.

And this doesn't even begin to cover the many great software programs which you can buy or subscribe to online which will put all of that and study info on top of it onto your hard drive. Want a picture of modern-day Jerusalem and some historic site mentioned in a passage? Just do it. Want a map of Paul's missionary travels in chronological order? Snap. Each and every of the smallest details are available. Greek? Lexicon? Interlinear? Extra-Biblical History? All there.

Or want to break down Shakespeare? Almost as much detail is available for Bill's books and plays. And here is the point I would like to make about that -

Each one of these pages full of these amazing details, whether that page contains one word and it's definition or an entire anthology of Jesus' spoken sermons with locations and audience information, has an address. It has to - that's the way the Internet works. To go to that page, you have to simply type in the URL and you will go to it. Can you image how many pages there would have to be just to contain all the info in one book of the Bible, let alone the entire Bible in dozens of translations? And yet you or I can simply access that info one page at a time if we need to. And the Internet search engines give us access to millions (billions) more pages on every other subject that the mind of mad could ever consider.

I got a bunch of onions free yesterday, and I clicked "onion soup" into Google. Got back 6,070,000 results. I could go to any one of them.

So if the Internet - something created by the mind of man- 'knows' the address of each and every one of these pages/locations, and can navigate us to the exact one we are looking for in the blink of an eye, why is it that I can sit here and forget that God can know my every need, my every thought, and my every word of prayer to Him or the words of prayer I can't bring myself to utter? If the Internet can 'know' so much about me and about all the other info (good and not-so-good) on the WWW, how much more above-and-beyond comprehension is the ability of God to know? I'm getting a little excited here!

My Pastor once said, "God knows your zip code," and it was an 'aha' moment in my life. But that was over a decade ago. Today, I would say, "God knows your URL," and in light of what I just typed above, it simply blows my mind. The Internet is truly incredible.

God is truly amazing.

A moment frozen in time for ever

I had my picture taken the other day. I am very excited to see how things come out. It was done by a professional - and it will be very expensive when all is said and done. But I think that the end result will be a moment, frozen in time, that my friends and loved ones can derive great pleasure and joy from. In fact, most will laugh out loud if I look the way I think I am going to look.

The photographer was a robot. No offense, but I mean he dogmatically stuck to one way of doing things. He was just doing exactly what he was told. No creativity whatsoever. One basic shot angle, same lighting each time, one from the front and one from the rear, and that's it. I'm pretty sure that there will be no real artistic value in the end product. Lots of humor value as I mentioned, but not really art.

My wife was not thrilled. She knew approximately how much this type of photo shoot can cost, and even though I tried to make it sound upbeat when I told her about it, I think she was actually disappointed in me. Money is real tight for us right now, and I should not be doing things like this. I promised to do better in the future, and I can tell you this - I have been much more careful since.

If I can, I'll scan in the picture when it comes in the mail. And if you desire to contribute to the cause, I will gladly sell you a copy. And - if possible - you really don't want to use this same photographer yourself.

Now

I had a conversation with a missionary-to-be the other day. She was amazing. She had caught the Heart of God. What I mean is, she had asked the Lord to show her what He loves, what He hates, and what He is really passionate about. And one thing came back in all caps - the lost.

And there was more - she was passionately asking me, "why doesn't the church today see this amazing need? Why don't they DO more about it? Why is our home church still feeding the homeless one time every four months and not building half-way houses, missions, expanding our outreach, getting these people saved and integrated into the church and then teaching them to reach out to their own peers? Why is it that we don't see that we are the light for the people God has place in our lives - our peers, coworkers, friends and neighbors? How could our numbers go any direction but up as we get more and more excited about what God is doing, and invest more and more of our lives into it? Don't people know that every one of us has a call on their life? How can we call ourselves Christians and have any non-saved friends? Why is it that we put such an emphasis on GOING to the mission field when we live in one? People need to get saved just as much where we live!"

For the full effect, try to imagine no perceivable breathing or pauses between these sentences, and imagine the intensity and pace quickening as she went along. Imagine the passion of God driving this young heart. Imagine walking the fine line of anger at the inaction of the vast majority of the church today. Imagine a voice choked with tears and emotion.

I wanted to calm her down. I wanted to tell her it will be all right.

But it won't.

God checked me at that moment and made me listen. I thought immediately of all the good things our local church is doing. We support a lot of missionaries, we send, we have ministries to people of all ages, we do outreaches to the community etc. I think ours is an exceptional church in many ways from the Pastor to the last usher. But she was talking about the ordinary "butt in the pew christian," because we are ALL called. And like most churches, the vast majority of the attendees do little more than that: attend.

And what do we do? We wait. But we shouldn't. We wait for schooling, training, etc. We wait to become married, we wait to become single. We wait for the evangelism class to be offered at church, we wait for somebody to ask us about Jesus. We wait. We wait for a missions trip, we wait for a missionary. We wait for a call to a foreign land. Or - we list our reasons for not being able to work the mission field all around us:

We have just been hurt - really hurt, so we wait to heal. Bad church, bad spouse, bad kids, bad dog, bad job, bad hair. Or we are perfectly healthy but we wait for the passion to come. We have some sort of 'destination disease' which has only one cure: do something. NOW. Nothing can possibly happen tomorrow which will suddenly make the timing perfect. It is perfect today, right now.

"Excuse me, but I know you are trying to find answers, and fifteen minutes of my time could possibly change your eternity, but I am late for worship team rehearsal. So sorry."

Make a fool out of yourself for Jesus. try. Fail. Try again. I would rather have a nice crowd of people meet me at the gate to Heaven than have a nice big mansion all to myself.

I hereby announce that today is the day. Now is the time. Pick it, plan it, prioritize it, - put it into motion - praise God for the power and the priceless results. I'll write you a note - I give you permission - it is your time - God is waiting, the people around you can not wait any longer. Do something!

"We then, as workers together with Him also plead with you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For He says: 'In an acceptable time I have heard you, and in the day of salvation I have helped you.' Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:1,2)

I would say there is only one thing left. Simple question:


So - What are you doing today?

Choose

¹⁴ "Now fear the LORD and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your forefathers worshiped beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the LORD. ¹⁵ But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."

I am sure that you have heard this passage from Joshua 24 as many times as I. But I wonder if it has had as much impact on us as I think it should have? Yes, the people of Israel had come out of Egypt. Yes, the Lord had set them free. Yes, the Lord had smashed and demolished, one by one, the Egyptian gods and goddesses which they had taken to serving. One for each plague. And now, they had a choice to make - serve gods or serve God.

The idea of serving a god which was made by the hands of men seems almost laughable to me. Who would create a god of wood or stone, perhaps layer it in gold or other precious things, set it up on a pedestal and then worship the thing? That is nuts. Who would entrust their future, their very life, to some created thing such as that? Well, most of us.

I have been guilty of building a business, and then trusting my future to it. I have built plans and asked God to bless them, instead of asking God to establish the days of my life. I have built houses, purchased cars and other expensive toys, and looked to them to fulfill me and bring me the joy which God alone can bring. My possession may not be made into the likeness of something you would call an idol or a god, and they may not be overlaid in gold and jewels (some actually are...) but they are idols nonetheless. And I am choosing, this day, to serve God once again.

Pop Quiz

There are tests in life. I know, I know. I taught high school for several years a very long time ago, and I would try so hard to make the students understand that tests can be their friends. Tests could let them know today what their grade was likely to be next month, or at the end of the semester. That way they could adjust their lives, their study habits and schedules to increase the likelihood that they would get a good grade at the end of the year.

Trouble was, they were High School Students. Not only that, they were teenagers. They didn't always care about the grade at the end of the year, and quite a few of them didn't even care about the grade at the end of the day. Most of them would barely change their sleeping habits to get to school on time if their parents didn't sic the dog on them, or sic the little sister on them or whatever they had to do to get them out of bed in the morning.

So, I didn't always announce tests in advance. Big ones, of course, but no so much the little ones. Why not? Simple. I didn't want to hear the complaining twice: once the day I announced it and then again on the day of the test. I mean, here I was showing them the loving concern of a teacher who wanted to truly make a difference in their lives, a teacher who helped them in every way I could, a teacher who wanted to record as many top grades as possible, and send these young minds out into the world equipped to deal with the real world, and they whined and complained every time I would pull out one of the most effective tools of learning at my disposal. It was mind-boggling to me. And telling them didn't do much to quiet the complaining or help them to understand what a truly loving teacher that had in their lives, either.

Well, all I can say is that I am sure glad that you and I don't do the same to our loving heavenly Father.

Work it!

1 Thessalonians 1 (New International Version)

¹Paul, Silas and Timothy,
To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ:
Grace and peace to you.

²We always thank God for all of you, mentioning you in our prayers. ³We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

I was reading this passage this morning, actually I was looking something else up when I landed on this by mistake. I love the greetings in the Epistles because if a Bible author had sent me a letter, I so often wonder how he would have to address it. Would it be, "oh ye of little faith," or "church of the big dreams of wealth," or even "prayer-less stumbler in the dark." I am very sure all of those would apply at some part of my life, and perhaps even over the past year or two. So how would he address me today? What do I need to focus my life on so that I might get an address more rightly reflecting what God wants to do with me as a church of one set up to influence my little part of the world?

Well look at the passage - the fine folks at the New International Bible have given it a chapter heading which says,

Thanksgiving for the Thessalonians' Faith

which is odd, because I don't see it that way at all. By time you read down to what we now call verse three, it says that the writers are giving thanks for the Thessalonians' work, labor and endurance.

These are actions. So - even though the motivations are mentioned, and praised, it is really the actions taken by the people of this church which are being remembered with thankfulness.

OK Lord. I'm listening. I want to do the things which would create a memory in the lives of people around be which would first point to you, then be worth this type of praise. Not for my own ego or self-worth, but for the furtherance of the Kingdom of God.

Superhuman

Superhuman. The word conjures up images of crime fighting heroes and massively strong beings with abilities which allow them to do things of which movie plots are made. Perhaps those abilities involve things other than strength: super vision, hearing or even mental power. In the realm of entertainment, it can include psychic powers. The word itself simply means to do something exceeding normal human abilities, which in some cases could be nothing more than the ability to walk past a container of home-made brownies on the kitchen counter and not give in to the temptation to eat them all in one sitting. Or even without bothering to sit..

I have done such a superhuman feat over the past few days. There was, in fact, a container of brown deliciousness - sugary love in 2" square format - sitting on my counter. And it never even tempted me. In fact, my wife also was not tempted, and she was the one who baked them. Now, her feat of superhuman self-control was greater than mine because she had to endure the baking process, so I want to give her full props. In fact some would say that simply being my wife is a superhuman feat, and maybe that is a subject for another blog, another day. Back to the brownies: we gave them away last night.

My Niece is doing her senior project for college by designing and helping to build and install a Christmas Light Display on our house. It will be amazing. Computer controlled, featuring enough lights and special effects to dazzle, bemuse and annoy the neighbors, and it drew a lot of visitors last year when they did it at their house.

One of the people deeply involved in this project is Ryan. This is a man of unusual height. I think Ryan is 6 foot 10 inches tall, or "Five foot twenty two inches" as he sometimes explains it. Ryan is a good friend, a nice guy and enjoys working with this project. He also is a wonderful example of superhuman, because he can simply reach up and hang the various lights and LED arrays from the eaves of my house while standing firmly on the ground. As the kids where coming over last night to get started I mentioned that I no longer keep a ladder here at the house. "No problem, we are bringing Ryan" was their response. And I recalled that some years ago when I was laid up with my back Ryan did come over and hang our lights for us, once again while standing on the ground.

But for Ryan, there is nothing superhuman about it. He can reach the eaves on my house the same way I can reach a light switch. He simply stretches out his hand, and by virtue of the way he is designed, and by virtue of the ability resident within him, his hand goes much farther than most folks. Sort of like the way it is fully within the nature of God to be able to deliver us, keep us, and provide for us. God's hand simply reaches farther.

Man of few words

I was once challenged to see if I could write a blog which was short. "Short and sweet" may have been the exact words.

I can, I will, I just did.

Choices

I rise alone, and it is dark. A voice in the darkness is calling to me. Not a voice I hear with my physical ears, a voice in my spirit, a voice I have grown familiar with over many years. The voice calls me to come away with Him. I wish I didn't have to admit it, but I resist. I am tired. I don't want to get out of my comfortable bed, next to my loving wife and my pillow seems to be able to communicate for a second, calling me to stay. No.

But I have listened to that pillow before: it is a liar. It offers rest, but I find more rest in the presence of the Lord. It offers peace, but I find more peace reading the promises of God and renewing my mind. It offers comfort, and here it does not lie, yet I realize that it is in seeking comfort and ease that I have had all of my greatest failures and falling in my life. No.

So I rise, and welcome the morning - and the one who created all things is there, waiting to greet the day by my side. Where will we go this fresh, new morning? Will I lead? Or will I follow - it is wise to follow but more common to run ahead. I sometimes see what I think is the goal and dash away to pursue it. Things common to earth don't always end up having the value I placed on them as I raced to consume them, raced to try to own them only to find that they ended up owning me. No.

Am I to be defined by what I own? I look around me. I have a kingdom, and for the first time in a long long while I take inventory. If I had to vacate my kingdom in an instant, what things would I take along? What would truly matter to me so much that I would be willing to risk life and limb to save? I realize that in valuing things, I allow them to become my little lords and kings. No.

So what will the day hold? What will fill my valuable time? Will I find diversions, will I find pleasure and amusement? Will I look back and see that more of my day went to try to fulfill foolish things than sublime? Silly pastimes or matters of eternity? Business beckons, schedules seduce, and conquering calls me. No.

I will rest. Not physically, for that still small voice has called and I have risen to meet the maker of the day. But I will rest. Yes, that is it - I will rest in His presence, in His joy, knowing that he is waiting to be with me. WITH me. IN me. Beside me, to lead and guide me. Not through only my day, but through my life - the life He has taken great joy, delight and love to plan. The life He will show me, one morning at a time. Yes. Yes, Lord.

Marathon Man

Isn't that a great photo? I got that at www.californiabeachimages.com and I wanted to give full credit. I know where that photo was taken! It was taken "outdoors," a place I haven't been much lately. I am not the guy in the picture, nor am I likely to ever look like the guy in the picture, except in my dreams. However, I did get up early and enjoy a nice time of actual outdoor movement this morning. "Exercise" I think they call it. Note the similarity to the word "Excessive." Of course, this morning it was gray, wet, overcast, slightly humid, and since that is a sunset not a sunrise, it was not quite as beautiful as the picture. Other than that, it was just like it.

Excuse me if I smell a bit. I really did just get back from a 35 mile walk. OK - it was only 35 miles in dog miles, 5 in human miles, but I'm out of shape so I want to paint a picture of what it felt like to me. Wow - I thought my parents were exaggerating when they used to tell me it was uphill both ways as they slogged through four feet of snow (year 'round) to get to school every morning and then their job at the mine in the afternoon. But I think the walk I just took actually was uphill both ways. Marathon Man - "Marathon" being a hearty type of sod.

But I kept going the whole way. I marched past the mini-mart in the corner gas station, and that was a good warm-up for avoiding the stop at the donut shop a half mile later. I think I may have gained a slight sugar rush from the smell coming from the donut shop as we passed anyway. It was almost demonic the way the smell of fresh-baked donuts left the top of the building and wafted directly for the sidewalk out front. In fact, if the people running the shop don't do that on purpose somehow, I think they would be very smart to figure it out and start doing it. And a discount for Diabetics would be a nice touch as well. Sliding scale - test your blood and get a discount equal to ten percent of your glucose level.

But I have to say, I have missed walking. Sort of like I have missed having the stomach flu. Maybe not that bad - how about I have missed it like I missed a mild broken bone? Mild heart attack? No not really. I do hope to miss the mild heart attack. I'm sure once I get into a little better shape I will go back to enjoying it. Trouble is, I haven't done it a for long time, and I only walked a couple miles each day last week as a teaser. This walk today? This was full-on, all-out, no-stopping, ultra-manly limping with a large part of my butt dragging behind me. I was going to hire a guy to bring my dragging butt along on a hand-truck, but after the Four Ton Pasta incident the temp agency isn't returning my calls.

I was so sweaty that I glanced back and noticed I was leaving a trail. Actually, more of a stream. OK - a river. That wouldn't have been so embarrassing if there hadn't been salmon trying to swim up stream to spawn in my front yard. I always thought they were smaller than that.

I had a walking partner. Yeah right. This guy actually thinks exercise is fun. There are a lot of things I admire about people who are in good shape. For one thing, they tend to spend money in my store. That's a real good thing right there. But this guy spoke of his time in the Army Reverse as we walked. Now, I should admit that I usually don't talk while I'm walking. It's not that I prize the silence, and it's not even that I usually walk alone. I talk just as much to myself as I do to other people. I'm very egalitarian about that. In fact, that may explain why I usually walk alone. No, it's just that it's hard to get out a complete sentence while I'm gasping for air.

But I digress - let's get back to my former Iron Man walking partner. At least he had the decency to sweat a little. Very little. I'm going to check his shirt later today to be sure he didn't buy one of those shirts with the fake sweat pattern printed on. You've seen 'em, right? They show up at the gym all the time, or at least I'm told they do. I haven't been inside a gym since, well, never mind. But gas was less than a dollar a gallon, and people made coffee at home. I suppose he might have just gotten some of the splash from me - he did walk behind me that one time to tell the paramedics I was OK and send them on their way... they didn't look like they believed him.

Well, I'm sure I'll do better tomorrow. It seems like not that long ago when I was at the point of walking five miles (ish) five days a week, and not dying. Much. I can't tell you how glad I will be to get back to the point I was then. I could do some amazing things. Things you slender people take for granted. Things like walk up a flight of stairs and not need CPR. I know! Amazing, huh? I could tie my shoes without help, and without tools most of the time. The lady at In N Out didn't automatically make all my food "Animal Style" without asking. I had far fewer "Xs" on my shirts. I could wash more than two shirts at a time in our oversize washing machine.... OK you get the picture. I was no Adonis, yet I felt much much better and moved much easier.

So that's my goal: Almost Normalcy. Think I can do it? Why don't you ride along with me. If you don't mind, I'll keep posting updates now and then right here and on my Facebook page. And if you live nearby, watch for me passing in front of your house. And don't step on the Salmon.

The O.R.

Yesterday was tense. I was doing surgery. Delicate, critical surgery. I had to repair a tear in the skin which could have resulted in a complete bleed-out if not repaired correctly, and as with any skin injury there was always the concern about keeping the area flexible, pliable and of course, looking as if nothing had been done. Others before me had tried a large bandaid, but this was the final and necessary step if this patient was going to be saved.

As the rain beat on the roof of the hastily-assembled operating room, my assistant obviously was concerned: a bead of sweat appeared on his furled brow as he bent to his instruments, ready to place in my hand that tool or knife at a single syllable from me. No, the patient was not a relative nor even friend, although they do go back just about one year, but still the anxiety was palpable. Nearby a dog lapped at some water from a plastic bucket and another smaller animal growled his disapproval.

This was the OR at Spas etc. - the last remaining beacon of hope for the tense. The one remaining place where sore backs could be relaxed, where people could find relief from a life without hydromassage. This, was the place where broken, torn ducks were mended. No, we could not hope to return this one to the wild. It had been too long among humans to ever be free again and this injury which brought together this crack team was too severe to every completely go away. In fact you could say this duck was absolutely deflated without the help of we who had cared for it all these years. The machine which was going to have to keep it alive was never going to be more than a few feet away. And it may never see another one of it's kind again. Some would say that this duck, this master of the air - may never have been fated to experience the freedom of the air anyway. Destined, as it were, to stand as a mute sentinel and steer others to their destination, but never fly free itself.

The surgery went well. As well as could be expected. Just about the time my back was aching from stooping over the operating table, it was done. This was now and suddenly beyond the hands of a man. This was now in the hands of science, of chemistry, of destiny. We will not know for sure if all will be well for this large yellow icon of relaxation, but our hopes and best thoughts are with it. The recovery should be complete by tomorrow, if at all. I lay awake thinking about it just an hour or so ago, asking myself, "why? why did it all have to happen? The duck had done nothing, nothing to deserve this."

And as the sleepless seconds mounted, I finally had to rise, record these scattered thoughts for you who care. And let the dog out. To share, here in the ether, the nervous concern that our yellow friend, once so proud and so tall, will once again be able to stand. And not just to stand, but to stand erect, proudly wearing it's dark glasses and making the children smile. Oh, that my life could be so light, so full of air and so empowered by the breeze which could send this amazing animal soaring if not firmly tethered to an earth which would never be the same without it.

Although methinks, perchance at times, I may be just as full of hot air as our yellow friend. . .

It's getting so you can't even trust the trash man.

Columbus day. The banks are closed, no mail delivery, and I took the recycling in for redemption. Missed two large bags in the side yard, too. Bummer. But the biggest bummer was the fact that I discovered about recycling: they don't pay you what you should be getting! It's true! They just weigh the stuff and give you a discounted amount. There are signs on the wall spelling it out. I cleared just under $30 today, even with the two missed bags, but I wonder how much I would have gotten if I could find a place which gives me the actual five cents per bottle or can? I tell you, it's a conspiracy! A scandal! America needs to know this! OR, maybe I have just found an idea for a new business...

I was thinking about the reason these people cheat us as they do - I'm sure they don't have the manpower or the willpower to sift through bags full of wet, sticky bottles and cans and actually count them, so they just give you an amount based on, well, I don't know what it is based on. It could be the boss' hat size, or the boss' daughter's shoe size. Or the number of people who have mentioned it them, only to have them suggest that they can take there bottles and cans somewhere else to redeem them.

Where is customer service? Oh the humanity! Where is the concern for the common man? Where is there a place that I can actually get my lousy nickel back for each of these bottles and cans. After all, I paid the nickel up front with the expectation of getting it back. Small parts of my life are built, planned and laid out around the return of that money. I said "small parts," and I meant "small parts."

OK, I'm sure you didn't tune in today to hear a rant. I guess that's just the way the belly buttons sometimes. However, if you think this is a grave injustice, and you want to do something about it, let me know. If we gather enough people who have passion for nickels, I bet we could get a new law passed. Let's call it the "Sticky Stimulus."

The ledger

I have often been challenged to track things in my life, but I don't do it all that often. "What?" you ask? You have been tracked? NO. I have been challenged to keep track of things - what I eat, how much I spend, where my time went, boring, unfunny things like those. The stuff of life, plus tax.

I am amazed at the ability of humans, myself most definitely included, to judge themselves by their intentions but judge others by their behavior. What I actually do is softened by the fact that even though it was the most awful thing any human has done in the past ten minutes, I really meant well.

OK - I know you want an example, and I could offer thousands. Some would be funny, but most would be so revealing of my true humanity that I think I may just leave it at this - I am a normal person. Well, mostly. There was that one time with the rubber chicken and the guacamole, but the neighbors dropped the charges so just let it go.

But what I'm saying is this - we so often give ourselves a pass on our own behavior when we really should be measuring it against some standard of excellence. Who wouldn't rather measure themselves against a standard of mediocrity? I look real good compared to some. Just not so good compared to others.

So back to the tracking - I have asked groups of people many times to jot down how many hours they spend in front of a TV on average. They make their guesses, then I passed out a listing of the shows which aired the previous week. After checking off the ones they watched and adding it up, it was fun to watch their expressions as they came to grips with the fact that they had watched two or even three times as much as they realized. That time was lost forever, gone into the vast black hole along with all of my good intentions and the credibility of the Nobel judges.

So what should we track? Well - I am in Weight Watchers. One week so far - but this is the second time I have joined, and the third time in my life I have been part of WW in some fashion. Once, a very long time ago, everyone else in the house joined and I lost a bunch of weight just because I was surrounded by good food choices and motivated people. But I am a full, paying member this time, and I have to write down every stupid morsel of food which goes into my mouth. And what's worse is that I have to find the 'point value' of every item I consume. That would be a good way to track our lives, don't you think?

Put a point value on every minute of every day. And don't just sit and dream about the wonderful intentions I have for tomorrow, actually sit and record what I do today, and then measure it all by a set point value. Serving humanity gets high points, serving myself gets low or no points. Sitting in front of the Monitor watching a DVD should be negative points. I would assign the middle-upper points to such things as walking five miles then eating a healthy breakfast before the sun comes up and then going to feed the homeless after dropping off my extra clothes to the charity du jour on the way to help my friend move after helping my daughter study and writing off some unemployed persons debt. And doing my own dishes. With soap this time.

Wow - this is taking on life. Notice I didn't say a 'life of it's own,' no, this is taking my life. I am amazed at how many types of food I eat, and how various are the points values in question. I can't even imagine trying to actually give a point value to the other areas of my life. So - since we are so good at judging others by their behavior, I'll leave it to you. Oh, and thanks.

If I found a pill which would safely and effectively allow me to eat as much as I wanted to without gaining weight, I think I would take it. I love eating. But food is not my friend, and I don't have the option of over doing it anymore. I think the fine folks at most of the fast-food establishments around my home are already noticing a down-turn in their bottom lines, and I am in danger of In N Out giving away my reserved parking space as I work to reduce the size of my, uh, bottom.

But as I was pondering this 'easy way out' for reducing, I came across an interesting idea. What if there were pills to take for everything? I saw a headline recently about an AIDS vaccine. This is a disease which got its start and has risen to epidemic status in some countries due entirely to the elective behavior of people. So if they do discover a vaccine, would those behaviors begin to increase? Would people care less about the rightness or wrongness of various behaviors if the fear of a painful end result were removed?

If there was a vaccine for throat and lung cancer, would smoking increase? Would we allow cigarette machines in elementary schools and day-care centers? If there was a vaccine for Diabetes, would Ben and Jerry's be piped directly into every home like cable TV is now? And if we could get a vaccine for being overweight, would kitchens be converted to storage rooms and Jack in the Box begin 24 hour room service to entire cities?

I sometimes wonder about how I would live if there was no Hell.

Well, too deep for a Saturday morning. Get out there and overeat. Smoke, drink, live like the fires of Hell have been quenched. And let me know how it works for you. I'm going to go eat my 2 point breakfast and take a walk.

This little light - of yours

I just walked home from church a moment ago. It is a dark night, and all along the way I was looking at my neighbors' yards. I have just started taking care of my own yard again, and I'm on the lookout for ideas. Well, some of them had landscape lighting systems. "Cool!" I thought.

Some had high-powered spotlights aimed up into broad full-leafed trees, othes had them on the trunks of palm trees so that the entire upper part of the palm was a blaze of light, still other had them washing light on shrubs and even a fence or two. Even at night, I could see the color on the shrubs and fences.

But - some were those solar powered little yard lights which seem to be so popular right now. They use the latest in technology - LED lighting. That's a type of light source which consumes very little power. In fact, I have been told that they don't really use electricity, they just use magic, but I don't know if I buy that...

They are real easy to install - you just buy them, unwrap them and stick them into the ground. That's it - a little solar panel on the top absorbs sunlight all day long, and then when the sensor determines that it is, in fact, night - the light comes on.

Delightful. Except for one minor drawback - they are so wimpy that they do a very strange thing: they don't actually light anything up. I saw one yard which was just covered in the things, and they were all burning as brightly as they could. But I saw nothing in the whole yard except the spots of light from each of the lamps. I didn't see any light cast on the pathway to the front door, I didn't see any of the shrubs or trees lit up, I couldn't even see a pool of light on the ground below the light fixtures. Just happy little spots of light in the darkness, And it was as if they wanted to say, "look at me! Don't bother looking at the tens of thousands of dollars of landscaping and walkways this guy put into his yard, look at ME! Aren't I wonderful?"

OK, maybe they had a better attitude about it than that, but that's the impression I got. I hate to totally trash these things, but they are useless. The picture I posted with this blog shows a nice walkway. But if you look at it you can see that they had to provide lighting from some other source or you would just see a black scene with some spots of light. You would never know there was a brick walkway there.

Well, as I was walking along, of course, it happened. A moment of clarity -I was seeing myself. Jesus told us to be lights, but he specified that, "In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:15-17

So - we can be lights of the high-quality, expensive kind which actually give light to the world around us, lighting the way, showing the joy available, and keeping those around us from tripping and falling.

Or -

We can be the little wimpy light which simply says, "look at me."

I can see clearly now

My daughter and I share a lot of interests. I won't list them all, because in the eyes of some 'normal' folks we might seem a bit odd. As a matter of fact, that is one of the things we share: we don't mind being considered odd, we boldly go where no split infinitive has gone before.

One of the interests we share is stargazing. We built our own telescope several years ago, and it is a fine one. It looks just like the one in the picture here, but ours is brown. It is just under five feet tall when aimed up. And it works like a champ. In fact one night we went out into the backyard to see Saturn. It was supposed to be close to the moon, which makes it harder to see but very easy to find. As we set up the 'scope, a layer of clouds rolled over and we couldn't even see the moon. But we waited for an opening, and we finally spotted our target.

But when the clouds rolled back in, we assumed our gazing was over for the night. But to our amazement, the telescope was powerful enough, and the planet bright enough that we could see it right through the cloud layer. Naked eye - nothing. Scope - right there. As the clouds got thicker, the image grew less sharp, but it was like X-ray vision or something.

I have flown above the clouds and been reminded that it is always sunny up there, but this was a new experience - we were still right here at ground level and we could pull the image of the planet right through the clouds. It is a simple fact of science: the telescope has much greater power to gather light. The clouds may have been able to limit the view from our human eyes, but they could not stop the image from getting to our telescope. 0h that I would remember that when I pray. The world may have the ability to block my faith, but God has the ability to pierce the darkness and reveal Himself to me in the darkest of times.

Down like a dog

The other day I came into the family room, and my wife was watching a movie. For some strange reason I decided to stretch out on the floor instead of throwing her out of my recliner. In hindsight, it was probably a good move. Except for one thing - we now have a dog. Yes, a dog. A large-mouthed Lab, to be exact. She is laying near me adoring me even as I type. Her name is Sienna. We got her used and that was already her name. I'm thinking of changing her name to "Bob." I'll let you know how that goes.

Anyway, once I hit the floor, I must have set off some kind of dog alarm because Sienna came bounding into the room all excited. I was now in her territory. I'm fine with that - she can own all the floor in my house as far as I'm concerned, I just would have liked to have known it was hers. She absolutely tackled me. She's a good 90 pounds, so I was not unaware that I had been tackled. And there was the tongue! Wow - she was so thrilled that I had come into her special world to play and love on her.

I love this crazy poop factory of a dog, so I joined right into her joy in seconds. I wrassled her around and pushed and pulled and had a fun time. And I tried to keep her tongue off of my face, but that didn't go as I had hoped and she lavished her affection on me in the form of doggy kisses. I felt like an honorary dog for a time, and she finally calmed down a bit and stretched out next to me with her head on my chest. It was a picture of everything that is right about owning a dog. And in Chas fashion, it stirred a spiritual truth in me.

Jesus did the same thing. No, he did NOT lay down to play with my dog. Although I think the two of them will get along just fine, but that's not what I mean. What I mean is - just as Sienna felt I had entered her own little world when I got down on the floor, Jesus entered our world when he came in human form. To my dog, there can be no greater way of showing love than to get down where she can love on me and play with me. As a sinner, dead and drifting, there can be no greater way for God to show his love than to send his son into our world. And just as I got up covered in dog hair and dog slobber, Jesus had to come in contact with our sin in order to make the connection complete.

Isn't it amazing? God so loved the world. Not just a pretty slogan.

Just like a miracle, only not.

I was diagnosed with Diabetes about three years ago. I was in the hospital for a minor surgery to remove a lump. The nurse came in and asked me how much insulin I was used to shooting, and I stared at her with a blank look. She almost called a code, but finally I said something along the lines of, "what are you talking about?" and she knew I was still breathing.

"How long have you been a Diabetic?" she asked.

"You tell me!" I answered. She acted as if she had just spoiled a big surprise or something, and in fact she had. I had no idea.

That both explained a lot of things which had been bothering me physically, and scared quite a bit of the life out of me at the very same time. I was in the hospital for just over a week, and then I began a serious program of not eating anything. I figured out that it was food items which seemed to be giving me the most trouble, so I eliminated them from my daily diet. It was simple, didn't take a lot of planning, thinking or any of that sort of thing. I had a hard time maintaining that regimen for very long though, so I finally went to Weight Watchers and started to eat again.

They gave me some point value as a max, but I seldom got even close to it. They said that was bad, but I was more afraid of a deadly disease than the the lady behind the counter. She couldn't have been over 110 pounds: I was sure I could take her in a fair fight, and I wasn't the least bit afraid to stoop to an unfair fight if I had to. I began to lose weight. Imagine.

And then I added walking to my daily list of things to do. I got up to just under 5 miles of walking, five days per week. And I started parking as far away from stores and other destinations - with the idea of walking just a little bit here and a little bit there. I walked to church - just a half mile. I stopped asking other people to go get me things - I would run downstairs and out to the warehouse myself at work, and I would get up out of the chair and get my own whatsit at home whenever I needed to.

I began to feel better, too. Amazing. You know all those cranky people who tell you that you should eat less and exercise more? Well, it turns out that they know a thing or two. I was always afraid I would get cranky if I lost weight, but it turns out that my Diabetes went completely away, and somehow not living under the threat of a deadly disease made me happier, not sadder. Go figure.

Why am I typing all this? Well, for one thing I would like to prevent any of you from having the same problems. Think you can carry around an extra thirty pounds and not have it catch up to you? I hope so, for your sake. But for most humanoids, extra fat carries the risk of extra death. Just sayin.'

I finally got so nice and skinny that people couldn't talk about much else. It was a real drag. "Hey! Look at you! You're not as much of a fat slob as you used to be!"

Ok, it may only have sounded that way to me - they were actually very complimentary and supportive. They all wanted to know how I "did it," and they were universally disappointed when I would say, "diet and exercize."

I think that they all had hopes that I had found a magic short-cut or something. No, I was a poster boy for good health. I could walk 5 miles without breaking a sweat, I did so five days each week, I could stoop and bend and do things close to the floor again, life was good. I had a little rowboat, and I would take it down to the harbor and get a wonderful workout from head to toe. Sweat, heavy breathing, the whole thing. But then it happened.

I don't know the exact date or time, but at some point I started to eat again. And I slowed the pace on walking. I stopped going to the harbor with the boat. I stopped taking people to the lake with our family boat. I started driving to church, and I knew it was really bad when I parked close to the door at In N Out instead of walking from the outer edges of the parking lot. I was back. But I didn't blow up right away, nor did my Diabetes come racing back. I guess I figured that somehow, I was now immune. That was a very bad thought.

Fast-forward two years. I have gained most of the weight back, and guess what? My blood glucose level is beginning to climb. The lesson? We all think that we are special, and in the eyes of a loving Heavenly Father we are. But to the extent that we think we can do silly things like eat anything and everything and not get flabbed out? Sit all day and night and stay healthy? Can't work. OK - maybe for a teenager or somebody in their early twenties. Those people make me sick. But just wait - it will get them too.

And the amazing thing is that our spiritual life is the very same. Slack off on reading and studying the Word? Go without praying? Skip worship? You WILL get spiritual Diabetes, and it is as debilitating as physical Diabetes. I know. I have had both.

But today is a new day. Join me?

Auopia

I am so sorry I have not kept this blog alive. I was involved in a blog elsewhere, and then FaceBook. I will try to transfer my blogging here. To get us going again, here is a note I wrote for FaceBook. I hope you are blessed by it.

I have had friends, teachers, pastors and professors tell stories in which God called them by their last names. Sort of rough, like a drill sergeant or a tough trainer in a movie or something. And sometimes I have imagined God talking to me in that manner: "hey Wolf, get it in gear!" or some similar spurring on.

And of late - for the past three years - my circumstances have been pushing me about like one of those cars in the Autopia at a Disney park. You know how those things work - they have a little freedom or play in the steering so you get the feeling that you are actually driving the little car, but if you get just a little off course, BANG! the rail built into the center of the road jerks you back on track with a suddenness that reminds you that you are not really in charge. You are going to go where the thing takes you, and you are going to get there in the exact manner the builder of the ride designed. In fact if you look at the pavement in one of those rides you can see the dark areas left by the thousands and thousands of cars which have gone before you - and you see that you are not getting one INCH off the same course every one of them traveled.

And yet - as my little car has been bounced around - I have finally begun to hear the voice of our heavenly Father. And he doesn't order me around. He doesn't sound like a drill Sergent, an upset schoolmaster or even a rough coach trying to wring a last burst of energy out of a tired player. He doesn't even sound like ME, getting down on myself.

You know what He sounds like? Like a loving friend who has a special name for me - a very gentle loving name only he knows. And his voice is never far away, never demanding, never judging. And if it wasn't for that voice, calling out that loving (encouraging) pet name, I would not feel like it was even worth traveling this road any more. Right now, if my own voice was the only one I could hear, I would be in darkest despair. But I hear His voice calling me things like "son," or "beloved," or "useful tool in my hand," or "of great value," or "worth dying for," other things that I would never believe if it were not uttered by one who is and always has been so completely dependable, believable, and who loves me so completely that he has a special track designed just for MY little car.

Do you know what He sounds like?

Do you?