Sitting at the Crossroad
The Lord has put things on my heart before. At one time the Holy Spirit spoke to me. I, however, am a deeply flawed man and have too often yielded to my fears and inhibitions rather than God’s direction. I have done so in confidence of God’s enduring grace to forgive my intransigence. Do I have faith? Yes. Do I have enough faith? Not often. Not enough to overcome the inertia and doubt that bind me to my present path – a path that more often looks like inaction than movement. At a recent study I attended the story of Abimelech and Abraham was cited. The story from Genesis 20 tells of Abraham lying to king Abimelech, telling him that his beautiful wife Sarah was his sister rather than admitting that she was his wife. Abraham did this knowing that Abimelech would desire her and have the means to take her. He knew Abimelech would take her if she was Abraham’s sister, but not if she was Abraham’s wife. He feared though, that Abimelech would take her if she was Abraham’s widow. Abraham had greater fear than faith – to the point that God had to dissuade Abimelech, rather than encouraging Abraham. Our fears and inhibitions have a master and that master is our own egos. Our ego will restrain us as often as it will encourage us. Sometimes we mistake our ego as wisdom, which grants it an even greater voice.
As Christians, we enjoy the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. But before the Holy Spirit, we had the indwelling of our human ego. Both speak to us, one often louder than the other. We must then necessarily exercise a discerning heart to differentiate the two. Oh, that’s all. Why didn’t I think of that! I know it’s hard. I am a man that stands in the kitchen and has difficulty discerning craving from hunger, so my understanding of the nuances within my own heart is challenging and my insights are limited. Prayer is certainly helpful, but we must be mindful that our hearts can serve as an echo chamber, reflecting our own thoughts and desires back to us. Did John the Baptist pray about preaching against King Herod’s marriage? I’m confident that he did. Yet, King Herod was unaffected in his sin. Was it the leading of God or the leading of John’s ego that led to his imprisonment and his ultimate head being served up on a platter? I don’t know, but I can infer conclusions from examples shared in the Bible:
Daniel’s survival in the lions’ den? God
John the Baptist’s head becoming a party favor? Ego
I may be wrong in those conclusions, but what I am saying is that I want to be led by the Holy Spirit. I want to be yielded to His will. I do not, though, want to be spoofed by my own wicked heart. The solution is simple, but not easy. Prayer. Prayer without ceasing. Prayer while accepting the guidance of others in your life who know the Holy Spirit’s leading and perhaps more importantly have encountered your ego before. My prayer is that the Holy Spirit take the wheel and not simply be the too often ignored navigation system. Men have had an almost legendary reluctance to ask for directions, but I don’t want to wander for 40 years instead. I don’t want a bumper sticker that says “God is my Co-Pilot”. I want God to pilot my life while I sit in back and complain about legroom (I come from a stiff-necked people given to murmuring).
It’s hard. Perhaps that is the greatest proof that it’s right.
The Candy Machine
When I was little, maybe 4 or 5, my older sister (always the entrepreneur) decided to make a coin operated candy machine. She placed two large boxes atop one another, and through the upper box made one hole through which coins were to be inserted, and another hole through which the candy should be dispensed. The greatest challenge of course was to devise a mechanism that would process the coins and expel the product. Her epiphany was to use her little brother, me, as the mechanism. So, she assembled the machine on our front porch and placed me inside. She then proudly told the neighbor kids that she had made a candy machine which was open for business.
Sadly, her business plan was foiled by the cleverness of the neighbor kids. Instead of using coins, they discovered that anything they placed through the coin slot would result in a candy being dispensed. In my defense, it was very dark inside those boxes. She responded to my accepting slugs (or anything else) by conking me on the head through the box. This ended the enterprise, as the mechanism no longer wished to participate and exited the machine.
I recount this story because over the years I have written various bits of poetry. Nothing of note and of uneven quality, but reflective of me none the less. My dad would often cite this childish rhyme that he had picked up “He’s a poet, but he don’t know it, but his feet show it… they’re Longfellows”. So, I note that the ability to string words together was not highly valued, but gratefully the bar for such ability was set remarkably low. My mom held the skill in higher regard, and would save (briefly) the school newsletters in which my efforts were reflected. As I grew older, I found that I continued to write simply as a means of self-expression – done only for myself and as a quasi-therapy. It is a quirk of my memory that I recall most of them going back to grade school.
I have always believed that these poems were mine, no matter the inspiration. This was undoubtedly true of those inspired by my own emotions in the moment, but as an adult I found myself writing numerous poems that were inspired by a woman then in my life. I gifted them to her, not realizing that they were always hers and never mine. She possessed (and possesses) a unique key to a place within me that only she can unlock and, in so doing, poems I never knew tumbled out. The Bible tells us that the two shall become one1, but it doesn’t provide a formula for undoing the process without maiming the two. It’s as though I’m still the mechanism in that childhood candy machine and if she puts anything in, she is guaranteed an outcome. It’s still dark in there, and I can’t accurately assess what comes through the slot. Too, I often find myself conked on the head by reality. Yet, I wait there hopefully until such time as God might extricate me from this box and place me in another. It is my hope that any subsequent box will possess better lighting.
1 Mark 10:8 “and the two shall become one flesh’; so then they are no longer two, but one flesh.” NKJV
Forever, Expiration Dates, and Hope
It was in 1991 that I stood before Pastor Greg Carson and vowed forever to the woman of my dreams. Years have intervened and taught me that forever often has an expiration date. I have invested too much time and emotion in studying the forensics of my failures. I’ve taken my pain and magnified it while simultaneously minimizing the pain I caused others. This may demonstrate selfishness, but might truthfully demonstrate cluelessness. My means of coping with pain was to assign blame, while striving to assume the role of martyr and victim. I was an ass.
Time has passed. Apologies that I believe I am owed I forego and forgive whatever trespasses they may encompass. Even as I revel in God’s forgiveness and grace, I accept that I can do no more, nor less, lest I slip once more into the indulgence of a martyr role. I’ve apologized to those who would listen and accepted the distance from those who would not. I’ve learned that speaking truth serves no purpose if it only delivers hurt without the potential of either illumination or reconciliation.
There is an antique safe in the basement. It was locked when I bought it with the combination long forgotten. The seller stated that he had never seen it open, but believed it to be empty. I should like to get it open so as to make use of it, but I’m inhibited from doing so, because as long as any contents remain inaccessible it feeds the hope that it might contain wonders. It is effectively a perpetual lottery ticket that, although statistically likely to be a loser, may be a winner! I find myself similarly minded when looking at my present situation. I hope for an unlikely outcome, while not taking the steps or asking the questions that would yield a definite result. I initially thought it cowardice that inhibited me, but I realize it is because I am addicted to hope. Hope holds promise and possibility, while if pushed to its conclusion would yield either disappointment (likely) or fruition (unlikely).
As a hope junkie, I realize how it forms the foundations of my faith and how little separates them. Unless you’re certain of a negative outcome, you cannot have faith without hope. A certain hope and a certain faith are virtually the same. The Holy Spirit continually strengthens my faith while giving me a certain hope for the promises of the Bible. I’ve shared some of my hopes with friends and have been encouraged to seek counseling to deal with and dispel my fixations and hope, but I realize that losing my hopes, however irrational they might be, would leave me bereft of an often defining purpose. I share the gospel because I have a certain hope and faith in the promises of the Bible. Other hopes I have will remain and perhaps ebb or grow. When I sit down for dinner at a friend’s home I may harbor a hope for dessert, though I would never give it voice. Such are my hopes. I may shape them into prayer, though God has always known the desires of my heart, and I trust that he will fulfill those that are within His will, and guide me away from those that are not.
But enough hoping for the moment. I suddenly have a craving for dessert.
Ready to Go Home
I have effectively been on my own since 2018, but I have always consoled myself that I have family, friends, and most especially the Holy Spirit. There have been times when I felt that even the latter was not enough, and I indulged in despair and thoughts of self-harm. I have now completed my cross-country trek and gratefully enjoyed the opportunity to visit my daughters and former wife. The visit went better than I could have hoped, though it once more brought to light my failures and foibles that too often hinder my relationships. With this portion of my trip concluding, I find myself choked-up, reflecting on what I had, what I lost, and the enduring loneliness my choices have forged. Confronted by the pain of saying goodbye to those I love, I cling to the Holy Spirit that animates me. I am ready to go home.
Genesis 2:18 “And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.”
Who Am I? Why Am I Here? Why Won’t my Laptop Boot?
I typically restrict my posts to expositions of my thoughts or leading regarding my walk of faith. Though my faith underlies my thoughts, this post will be more one of wandering in the desert, so – my apologies.
I don’t know who I am. I have become a stranger to myself, looking in the mirror and seeing only a shadow of someone I once knew. How did I get here? God only knows. Literally, God only knows. In the silence of the evening or the still of morning, my mind wanders once familiar paths, but they are paths leading through the past, illuminated only by dim recollections and shadowy reminiscences. Perhaps a stranger is better than remaining the person I once was. A stranger presents the possibility of a blank slate, giving me once more the ability to choose who writes me upon it. The painful truth though is the realization that there is no one who wants to know me – either the me I was or the me I may become. I once had someone describe me as an “empty well”. I have wondered what was meant by that assessment, lacking the courage to ask for further elaboration. When something hurts, it is rarely wise to ask for clarification that could potentially make any pain you feel more exquisite.
An empty well can mean many things. It can be a well that was drained and never refilled, leaving only a blighted scar on the surface conveying only memories and the continued danger of falling in. It can be a dry well wherein the efforts and investment in drilling yielded only loss and disappointment. Or it can be an unfinished well, where desire and commitment failed before drilling deep enough to reach the reward that initially inspired the effort. In reflecting on this, both through prayer and my own limited understanding, I initially believed that I was being assessed as one of the three. I naturally clung to the last as it offered the possible promise of a positive outcome. After all, you don’t wander through the desert desiring for more sand, and it’s only the hope of an oasis that inspires further wandering. However, I have recently concluded that it isn’t just one of the three that is true, but all three at once.
Later this month I will take a trip to visit my daughters, whom I haven’t seen in several years. In so doing, I will be prying off the well caps to all three realities. We will connect based on the recollections of that life the well provided before, we will address the long dry spell that has existed since that first well was capped, and I will commit to prying off the third well cap and drilling deeper in hopes of establishing a new and deeper relationship. I am confident in the latter, as I daily strive to yield the control of the drill to the Holy Spirit, who understands the dirt I am drilling in better than anyone. I am reminded of the passage from Psalm 37, verse 25 – “I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.”
1 Thessalonians 2:13
Have you ever had a verse embed itself within your consciousness? I have had this verse lodged in my mind since attending Bible college in the late 1980’s. I attributed this to a quirk of my mind, as I remember many things that I wish I could forget, but lately it has occurred to me that this may be an ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. I didn’t remember the citation, which I had to research for this post, but the words (KJV) have never left me. “For this cause also thank we God without ceasing, because when ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but as it is in truth, the word of God which effectually worketh also in you that believe.” Why this verse from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the church at Thessaloniki should stand out to me left me baffled, until I finally paused to consider its meaning to me.
I am not a street preacher. Personality-wise I am INTJ, which means that I am an introvert, as well as a few other things. Crowds exhaust me and I avoid public speaking. Although I can and have accepted leadership positions, I still harbor the recollection of a speech impediment I had as a child – an impediment that kept me from the ability to communicate my own name. Yet, in my heart, there is an abiding wish to spread the gospel. I accept this hunger as the word of God working effectually in me, but to what avail? I remember that in Bible college there was an older gentleman with a passion for God. In speaking to him, his vocabulary was simple and his speech often halting. But when he shared the gospel, he was transformed – I could have listened to him for hours. I had the honor and gift of witnessing God’s word working effectually in him. The living word, the Holy Spirit, using an imperfect vessel and perfecting His strength in him.
In considering the Apostle Paul’s statement, I am struck by the phrase “which ye heard of us”. The word “us” includes me. Again, you won’t find me on a street corner, unless I’m waiting for the light to change, but I (and you) can be a part of “us” by supporting ministries that seek to fulfill the great commission: “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”1 For me, this means inviting others to my church. It means supporting the Thru the Bible ministry with the teaching of Pastor J. Vernon McGee, and directing others to it. I am grateful that God has welcomed me to be a part of “us”, and it’s my prayer that we grow.
1 Matthew 28:19-20
Sorry I Haven’t Written…
Prayer has always been a challenge for me. I have never been a particularly social person, and even in terms of personal relationships I often fail to maintain my side of the social construct. I am too comfortable with silence and too easy in my own company. So, though I have a relationship with Jesus, I often do not sustain it with extemporaneous communication. Part of the problem lies with the feeling that when I talk to Him it should be in a formal setting with defined parameters. It has occurred to me, though, that I am much better at writing than I am at small talk – not that talk with God is in any way small. Also, like many people, when I pray I start with an opening “Dear God” and conclude with “Amen”. This works, but I don’t typically organize my thoughts in advance. I believe prayers should be spontaneous, but spontaneity has never been my strength. So, I start with “Dear God”, throw in everything and the kitchen sink in a disorganized jumble, and conclude with an “in Jesus’ name, amen”. Because I haven’t prepared, I frequently recall topics I wished to bring to Him in prayer after I had already concluded my prayer. In considering this conundrum, I remembered that years ago when I planned for dates with who would become my future wife, how desperately I strove for for spontaneity. Since spontaneity didn’t come naturally to me, I would rehearse a week or day ahead how our dates would proceed, so that on the day I knew what I would do, where I would park, what I would say so that it seemed spontaneous. Although it was rehearsed, spontaneity would have been far worse. Similarly, on those occasions when I would write her a letter, I would go through several drafts. This had the advantage of producing a more polished finished project, but it also left me with a record of what I had said. Perhaps this was a factor of living on the spectrum, but it worked for me and helped me, if not to overcome, at least to conceal my weaknesses. In this recollection, I am reminded of the Apostle Paul noting that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness.1
RecalIing this, I realized that the weakness I sought to overcome should perhaps be recognized as a gift that could enhance my relationship with Jesus. The process I relied on before could be used to show Him the same attention and planning that my “spontaneous” prayers lacked. So, dear God, sorry I haven’t written…
Dear God,
Thank You… for your love, for your faithfulness, for each breath You lend me, for the friends and family who contribute to my happiness and to my understanding, for my pastor, for the body of Christ that has welcomed me. Thank You… for the pain, for the challenges, for my stumbles, for the sadness, for the joy. From Your word, I am convinced that we are near the end of the age, but even if I am mistaken, I am aware that I am near the end of my age. Even so, Your enduring grace has sustained me and made me more whole, more complete, than I could have ever achieved by my own efforts. That realization compels me to pray that You might do the same work in the lives of my family. In my youth, my arrogance and pride led me away from Your path, yet You sought me and guided me back. Lord please smile on my son and daughters and grant them the same kind guidance which You have shown to me. Open their eyes that they might see You and follow You. I pray, too for my friends and those special to me. In this public place I will not name them, but I trust You to know my heart. Although some may have hurt me, they are all precious to me. Continually create within me a new and clean heart that allows me to love them as You do, to see them as You do, and to witness to them as Your Holy Spirit would direct. I am too often empty and spent, but You continue to fill me again and again. Thank you. Although I long for the day I will see You, I am grateful for the strength You lend me and the faithful manner in which you continue to shape me. Keep working on me Lord, even as You reveal Your power and glory in the simplicity of my life. I love you Lord, and it’s in Jesus name that I pray, Amen.
1 2 Corinthians 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Come Quickly, but Maybe Not Today
Zohran Mamdani sealed Iran’s fate. With his election in New York, it became apparent that not all of the American people carefully weigh their sacred right to vote. They will blithely vote based on promises that objectively cannot be fulfilled and ignore the obvious dangers and risks that spell disaster. They will glibly get on a bus that promises they’ll arrive an hour earlier, ignoring that the key to its speed is its lack of brakes. It reminded us of the electorate that twice elected Barack Obama, despite a declining economy and a failed foreign policy, in pursuit of hope and change.
Barack Obama spoke fondly of the Muslim call for prayer and disguised his antisemitism as merely anti-Zionism. He implemented America’s participation in the JCPOA, knowing that it would not prevent Iran from gaining a nuclear weapon, but would merely prevent it from occurring on his watch. As an aside in the same deal, the United States funded global terrorism by delivering pallets of cash to the mullahs in Iran. How much blood is on the hands of America by turning a blind eye as we discreetly funded the global intifada?
As Alexander Hamilton warned us, the mob is too easily swayed. If we failed to address Iran now, there was a high probability that we would elect a leadership that will reinforce Islamists worldwide. We entered this action without the overt support of Muslim states such as Saudi Arabia, France, Qatar, UAE, and the UK; but with the clear support of western nations such as Canada and Australia. If we waited, how many more western nations would become Islamist? Would ours be among them? The Bible suggests that we are in the end times. Jesus tells us “Behold, I come quickly1”. Notwithstanding, as Christians we have an obligation – not to hasten the end, but to forestall it as long as possible. Each day presents a further opportunity for someone to accept Jesus. God would expect no less of us.
1 Revelation 22:7 Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy of this book.
Sufficient Unto the Day…
As I write this, I am assuming that my brothers and sisters in Christ are still around to read it (not that they do – Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they miss). I posit this as many have forecast that the rapture of the church would have occurred yesterday on September 23. That so many would presume to make such a prediction despite Jesus having said no one knows the day or the hour1, it serves to remind us how selective many of us are in our reading of the scripture.
Notwithstanding, I am grateful that it did not occur. I’ve always been somewhat fearful of the rapture – of being caught up in the air2. My fears are personal ones – I don’t like heights and I’m afraid that there might be a weight limit. Having visited Legoland with my daughter, I was surprised that every ride had a weight limit that I exceeded, though they were happy to take my full price of admission without the advisal that my presence would only be supervisory. I imagine the rapture occurring while I am working in the yard – a flash of light, perhaps, and as in the movies my clothing being left in a heap next to the weedwhacker. But, as I am carried up to perhaps 30-35 feet, I imagine my lift subsiding and plunging back to the earth. While the world marvels at the disappearance of the church, I am later found, naked, scratched, battered, and bruised amongst the rose bushes and bougainvillea. So, I am sincerely grateful that no one knows the day or hour, most especially me. I can focus instead on keeping my heart ready and repeatedly visiting the gym to lessen my weight and my fears.
We live in a fallen world – don’t look at me, it was fallen when I got here. Despite that awareness, it still shocks us when evil people do evil things. I once worked in a jail, processing detainees in and out, and it opened my eyes to the realization of how blind I was. I had always assumed that evil people – murderers, rapists, robbers, and other sundry criminals; would look evil. But it was the banality of evil, the banality of both their appearance and their manner, that was both shocking and terrifying. My comfortable confidence that their villainy would be easily recognizable was shattered and I found myself reluctant to engage with faces that seemed familiar, as I could never be sure as to on what side of the bars I had previously encountered them.
But as evil befalls the righteous and unspeakable acts are perpetrated by the heretofore seemingly innocent, I take comfort in the sure and certain knowledge that the world is safely in our Lord’s hands. I will trust in Him (still working on the weight-limit thing, though). Jesus admonished us in Luke 12:34 “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Accordingly, sufficient unto the day is the good thereof. I will be grateful for each day lent to me and trust Him for his faithful provision.
1 Matthew 24:36 But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.
2 1st Thessalonians 4:17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
What does Forgiveness Look Like?
Addressing an issue from the past, someone suggested that I had never really forgiven them. My response of “yes, I have” seemed inadequate, so I thought it important to explore further. I realized, then, that I did not actually know what forgiveness looks like. My simplistic assumption was that forgiveness was simply not holding someone to account for past transgressions. Not revisiting the pain or the shock of past events, while looking forward with a clean slate. But for better or worse events and actions of the past, good or bad, are part of our story and belongs to both of us. So, it belongs to both of us to tell, but with grace not to hurt or injure, but to recall and perhaps from which to grow.
I then look to the forgiveness of God… of the sacrifice of Jesus. I know that my sins are forgiven – were forgiven before I committed them, through the sacrifice of Jesus. We are told that it is the blood of Jesus that washes away our sins. I’ve sang the hymns about a fountain filled with blood and heard countless sermons regarding the power of the blood. But how might I forgive someone else? How might I be forgiven by those (too many I’m sorry to admit) that I have wronged. I can’t follow God’s model, as bloodletting would be too creepy and not be appreciated by anyone. I then consider the passage where we are told that God casts our sins into the deepest sea.1 As far as my family is concerned, we’re not remarkable swimmers, but we are proficient deep-sea divers as far as the wrongs of others are concerned.
So, if I remember, how do I forgive? I believe God’s example is simpler than we realize. It’s not the spilling of blood that forgives sin, but the love that inspires that sacrifice. Like God’s sacrifice, it must be offered and accepted by both parties. The Bible tells us that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.2 Similarly, we are told to confess our sins one to another.3 Such is our earthly forgiveness. We respond to one another with love in answer to our confessions. It doesn’t change our histories; it doesn’t remove the scar; but instead, it cleanses the reality of consequences with love – love that doesn’t weaponize the past nor rewrite the narrative. Forgiveness is a mutual endeavor in terms of both giving and receiving.
So, revisiting the question of the first paragraph – yes, I have forgiven. I deeply love the person to whom I gave that forgiveness and it remains my prayer that they can accept it – and extend their forgiveness to me.
1 Micah 7:19 He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.
2 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
3 James 5:16 Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.
