Author: admin

Scared to death.  That was me, and I don’t scare easy.  So here it is.  On a Wednesday in June Tony and I flew to Florida to move his mom back to West Virginia.  It’d been years since she lived in West Virginia and many of you, especially in January, may wonder why she moved back North.  Duh! Us!

She had rented a 15 foot U-Haul, and a transport trailer for her car.  Just FYI, a 15 foot U-Haul is actually 22 and a half feet long.  This sucker was 40+ feet long in total.  Just 10 small feet shy of a tractor trailer!  Anyway, it was big.  All in all, these things were the perfect size.

Tony and I left Florida Thursday afternoon.  We stopped overnight in Georgia, and on Friday we continued the journey home.  Home.  Isn’t that a great sound?  Anyway, we’re somewhere in North Carolina when Tony asked if I would mind driving for a half hour or so.  Urch!  Screech!  Ahhh!  Was he really asking me to drive this mama?  Did he know how long it was?  This was not a horse trailer.  Did he know we were traveling 95 on a Friday?  Breathe. The man just wanted to close his eyes for a few minutes.  Where was my servant heart?  I looked at him and said sure, I’d try.  He then asked the dreaded question – “Will you go the speed limit?”  And I said “Only if the car in front of me is going the speed limit because I’m not changing lanes!”  How hard could it be?  All I have to do is stay between the lines.

A few minutes later I ease slowly onto 95 North, right behind Tanker 852.  I’m praying incessantly, Oh Lord!  Oh Lord!  You know how you pray when you’re panicked and you just can’t find the words?  Trust me, the Holy Spirit was intervening on my behalf.  As we headed on up the road, I noticed that I had been holding my breath.  No wonder I was panicked, blood couldn’t get to my brain.  About this time I was wishing I had taken a deep breathing course somewhere along the line.  As I gripped the wheel, I noticed my hands were white and numbness and tingling were taking over.  I had such a grip on that steering wheel that my fingernails were digging into my palms.  Slap!  Snap out of it girl!  I needed to get a grip, or actually lessen my grip.

I had decided that if I stayed behind Tanker 852 and if I could keep my “load” between the lines, the very narrow lines, that everything would be okay.  Then it started to rain.  Right out of nowhere.  Cats and dogs man.  The panic again.  The rain stopped.  Just stay in the lines.  Then we came upon an entrance ramp.  Tanker 852 moves left.  The panic again.  I gulp and move left.  Just stay in the lines.  Then we go over a bridge.  The joints were not quite even, thus the “Uneven Pavement” sign.  The U-Haul bounced into the air.  My butt flew out of the seat – thank goodness I had that grip on the wheel – I screamed!  Tony jumped.  Breathe.

The farther I traveled, the more I started to relax.  In fact, I started singing that song – Tanker 852 was Pig Pen, I was Rubber Duck…We got a little convoy rockin’ through the night.  Yeah, we got a little convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight!  Convoy…

Our faith journey is much the same, right?  We’re on a course.  It’s a convoy.

You can enter God’s Kingdom only through the narrow gate.

The highway to hell is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose

the easy way.

But the gateway to life is small,

and the road is narrow, and only a few ever find it.

Matthew 7:13-14

This journey reminded me of Christian’s journey  in Pilgrim’s Progress.  I was seeking the way home.  Christian was seeking the way to his everlasting home.  He sought “an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek it.”  Evangelist directed Christian to the path of the little wicket-gate – the narrow gate – the gateway to life!  Aren’t we all seeking that?

Trying to keep our lives on that narrow path to yonder wicket-gate is sometimes just as hard as trying to keep that U-Haul in between the lines.  Did I mention it was 40 feet long?  Running off the road on the left or right can be treacherous.  A ditch.  Another vehicle.  A bump in the road.  Flying debris.  A blown tire.  A bad decision.  A harsh word.  A bad attitude.  A date with Mr. Worldly Wiseman near the City of Destruction.  We all know what pulls us off the narrow path and causes us to leave the guidelines lines, what causes us to crash.

But, God…don’t you love the but God’s?  But God, in designing the narrow path also gave us the means to travel the road to the wicket-gate.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

Psalm 119:105

What great comfort.  The road is narrow but the path is well lit.  Well lit by the bright and morning star — the light of the world!  There is only one path and we’re told it is very narrow.  If we do not have to sometimes walk sideways on the road that we’re traveling, we may need to rethink our road.  If the road is crowded, we may need to rethink our road.  If there are no warning signs or dangers outside of the lines, we may need to rethink our road.

Because of God’s tender mercy,

The light from Heaven is about to break upon us,

To give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

And to guide us to the path of peace.

Luke 1:78

Although we may not always understand the route of the narrow road, we can always be assured that the route will lead us to peace, to grace, to life everlasting, to Him – that’s faith!

I am the light of the world.  If you follow me,

you won’t be stumbling through the darkness,

because you will have the light that leads to life.

John 8:12

Tanker 852 reminded me that we’re all headed down a road.  We must heed the warning signs along the way and keep our eyes focused on the Shining Light in order to stay the course.

My Green Baby.  Isn’t she a beauty?  Well…she was.  A moment of silence, please.  If you’ve seen our place, you know there’s a lot to mow.  In order to mow you have to have the right equipment to do it.  When we first moved here, we bought a new push mower.  It was stolen before we moved in.  A sign.  So, we got another one.  With grass nearly waist high in spots, my push mower soon caputed.  So, we got another one.  See the pattern here?  We still have that push mower and she’s still going strong.  We are slowly cutting out the brush from around our place and we now have real grass to mow.

We split the mowing.  Did I mention there’s a lot to mow?  Tony mows the fields with the tractor, I mow our “yards.”   Until last year, I pushed them.  The more brush we cut out, the more yard we had, the more I pushed.  It was good for me, right?  Well, last year for my birthday, Tony surprised me with a riding mower.  My very own.  Nothing runs like a Deere.  It wasn’t new, but it was new to me.  She was perfect!  Bright and shiny – green and yellow.  I called her my Green Baby.  A moment of silence, please.

To be honest, when I first got her I was a little intimidated by her.  She was loud.  She had these blades that could cut your body in two better than any magician.  There were gears.  There was a turtle to rabbit thingy.   Standard stuff on most riding mowers.  Once I learned that the gas and the oil didn’t go in the same place, we were good to go.  She purred like a kitten.  I’d hop on her, turn up the God tunes, and off we’d go.  After the first summer, I really got comfortable with her.  I learned to know her so well.

I’d come home from work, hop on my Green Baby and we would plow through the yard, chop, chop, chopping that grass.  Her little 21 inch deck working just as hard as she could.  Up the hill, down the hill.  Quick turn left, quick turn right.  You know, over the river and through the woods.  We went everywhere together – not really, but you get my gist.  We had many adventures, most of them we kept just between the two of us.  Like the time I dropped a stick into the gas tank.  And the time I got the mower deck pin stuck under the fence and I had to kick the board off to get the mower out, then nail the fence back in before Tony got home.  And the time I ran into the clothes lines pole at an accelerated rate speed.  And the time I rode over this tiny little tree stump and got stuck and I had to dismount and lift the mower off.   And the time I went under a tree and a stick went through my earring and about ripped my ear off.  And the time I misjudged a limb and it knocked my glasses off and I could see nothing.  I found them on the ground, in one piece.  No harm done.  We had some great adventures. Memories…

Then the dreaded day.  I was trying to beat the moon.  Probably going a little too fast, well a lot too fast, rounding the corner of the brush pile and bam! my left front tire just barely caught the edge of a brick around the firepit.  It was awful.  There was this terrible noise.  I stopped the mower, well the brick stopped it, technically.   I turned my steering wheel to the left, but Green Baby didn’t move.  I turned my steering wheel to the right, but Green Baby didn’t move.  I turned Green Baby off.  I jumped off and walked around her to see what the problem was.  When I looked at the front of her, her front wheels were pointed in opposite directions.   Remember Herbie the Lovebug?  She was broke.   Just about this time, Tony comes out on the deck.  Uh-oh.  I muster up my sweetest smile.  I told him something bad had happened to my Green Baby.

Months later, I can finally admit that the death of Green Baby was completely my fault.  I was careless.  I was confident.  I was prideful.  Look at me…ew!

So be careful how you live, not as fools but as those who are wise.

Ephesians 5:15

I was a fool.  I was anything but careful.  I was untouchable.   I was thoughtless.  I’ve been reflecting on my foolishness.  Sometimes we (me) treat Jesus just like I treated my Green Baby. I expected her to do things for me – mow.  I expected her to mow when I wanted her to.  I expected her to do her job, but I failed to do my job.  I do expect Jesus to show up when I need Him.  I do expect Him to show up when I want something.  I do expect Him to do His job of keeping His promises.  But often I fail to do my job.  Oh sure, I start out taking very good care of my relationship with Him.  But somewhere along the line, I become complacent, faithless, careless.

Here’s the thing, carelessness is very costly.  My mower can be replaced, for a price, but someone has to work for that price.   Being careless with my relationship with Jesus can be costly too.  It costs me peace, joy, happiness, contentment, comfort.  The cost of carelessness with Jesus is so very high.  It is eternity.  See, he’s already paid the price, the ultimate price, His life, so that we can live eternally.  How can we take that for granted?  How can we be thoughtless?  How can we be careless with that?

More than that, I count all things to be loss

in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,

for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ.

Philippians 3:8

Just like on Green Baby, sometimes I get complacent, I get careless, I get thoughtless, I go so fast that I break something and I’m separated from Him.  Just like I should have tended Green Baby a bit better, like she was valuable,  I must tend my relationship with Jesus a little better, like He’s most valuable.

Seek the Lord while you can find Him.

Call on Him now while He is near.

Let the people turn from their wicked deeds.

Let them banish from their minds the very thought of doing wrong!

Let them turn to the Lord that he may have mercy on them.

Yes, turn to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.

Isaiah 55:6-7

I love the message of Isaiah.  Turn to God and He will abundantly pardon!!!  No matter how careless we have been with our relationship with God, no matter how unfaithful we have been, no matter the direction of our wheels, if we turn to Him, we will be pardoned.  Turn, reverse, change and He will restore the joy of your salvation.

There are a couple of graveyards not far from where I work.  I’ve never visited them, until recently.  In my pursuit to persist in the presence of God, sometimes during lunch I go for a prayer walk.  By myself – just me and Jesus.  On my walk, I pass a couple of graveyards up on South Street.  One on each side of the street.  They’re beautiful.  I’ve always thought graveyards were beautiful, not in a creepy way.  They just usually look so neat, rows of headstones, some with flowers, some without.  Big monuments, small monuments.  Usually very uniform and tidy.  Orderly.  Old.  Obviously, very peaceful.

Even though I’ve probably been by those two graveyards at least a thousand times in my life, I never really thought about them until recently.  I don’t know who owns the graveyards.  Just by their appearance they are owned by two different graveyard-owners.  Does one own a graveyard?  Anyhow.  One of them looks over the City.  The other on the opposite side of the street backs a wooded area.  Both are surrounded by a lovely stone fence.  One is bolted shut, one is not.  Both are beautiful.

While walking by last week, I started wondering how old some of the stones were.  I couldn’t get in to the bolted graveyard but the oldest stone I could see through the bars showed that the person memorialized there was born on December 24, 1795 and died September 13, 1879.  Does that not blow your mind?  This person was only 19 years older than our Nation, and lived to be 84 years old.  Ponder that.

Anyway, today while walking by the graveyards, I checked out the graveyard on the opposite side.  To be honest, I can’t believe I walked in.  Here I am in my dress and sneakers, tiptoeing through a cemetery, not in a creepy way.  As I’m walking around, which I have never done before except at funerals, I’m checking out the age of the headstones.  I was interested in seeing how old the tombstones were on this side of the street.   What I did find spoke right to me, not aloud, but deep in my heart.  I found the monument of Alexander Cooper.  Mr. Cooper was born April 16, 1775. Mr. Cooper was born before our Nation was born!  Mr. Cooper died September 4, 1852, at the age of 77 years old.  That’s crazy to think about, isn’t it?  Mr. Cooper was born nearly 250 years ago.

Written on Mr. Cooper’s grave marker was the following:

A man without reproach.

A Christian humble and decent.

An Elder who ruled well.

Sober, grace, temperate.

Sound in faith.

A life of usefulness terminated in a peaceful death and his rest is glorious.

Obviously, I didn’t know Alexander Cooper, but reading his headstone makes me wish I had.  Who wouldn’t want to know that kind of person?  By the look of it, Mr. Cooper was everything we Christians aspire to be on this earth.  He was blameless.  He was humble.  He was decent.  He was fair.  He had a sober, graceful temperament.  His faith was solid.  His life benefited others.  He died a peaceful death and is living in glory.  Don’t you want that?  Better yet, don’t you want others to say that about you?  I do.  I want my life to say that I’m blameless, a Christian, humble, decent, fair, sober, grace-filled, with a firm foundation.  I want others to think that I was useful and I’d prefer to die a peaceful death before I dance in His glory.  Yep.  I’d be happy to be compared to Mr. Cooper, he appeared to be a Godly man.

Therefore, I, a prisoner for serving the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God.

Ephesians 4:1

Paul urged the folks at Ephesus to live a life worthy of being called by God.  We need to do that as well.  We all want to stand before our King and hear him say:  “Well done my good and faithful servant.”  Don’t we?

How do we make that happen?  What do we need to ask ourselves?  Is our faith solid?  Are we blameless?  Are we humble?  Are we decent?  Are we fair?  Is our temperament graceful?  Do we need to change so others will see God in us?  What attitudes do we need to adjust?  What words do we need not speak?  What actions do we need to take?  He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it, if we’re willing to let Him.

It’s often said, especially in terms of relationships, that opposites attract.  Have you ever noticed that?  Look at the relationships you are in.  Who do you gravitate to? Friend relationships.  Marriage relationships.  You can probably quickly identify a relationship in your life where you gravitate to an opposite. Introvert to extrovert.  Man to woman.  Quiet to loud.  Yin to yang.  Peace to war.  Giver to taker.  Right to left.  Rainer to shiner.  You get it.

Jesus is all about opposites attracting.  Jesus is perfect.  We are not.  Jesus was sinless.  We are sinfull.  He is kind and gentle.  We are harsh and abrasive.  But you know the opposite of accept is reject and the opposite of reject is accept.  In order to be a follower of Christ opposites must attract– to have eternal life, you must accept Jesus and reject sin.   You see, Jesus is perfect.  He never sinned and He is the cure to our sin.  In order to receive that cure, we must do two things – accept and reject.  Accept Jesus as the Son of God and reject our sin.

Accepting Jesus is more than just believing.  It’s about acknowledging Him as the Son of God.  It’s about recognizing that He came to earth, not to abolish the law but to fulfill the law.  The Holy Lamb of God who takes away our sins.  Removes them.  Erases them.  Purifies us.  Restores us.  Changes us.  This is something we simply cannot do for ourselves.   If we accept Him, we must reject sin.

Have you accepted and rejected?  It sounds so easy yet so complicated.

Galatians 5:16-17 say:

Live according to your new life in the Holy Spirit.

Then you won’t be doing what your sinful nature craves.

The old sinful nature loves to do evil,

which is just the opposite from what the Holy Spirit wants.

And the Spirit gives us desires that are opposite from what the sinful nature desires.

These two forces are constantly fighting each other,

and your choices are never free from conflict.

Accept the gift of salvation from Jesus, then do the opposite.  Reject the sin in your life.  I am a sinner.  A full-blown sinner.  I don’t want to be, but I am — another opposite.  Paul also struggled with opposites:

I know I am rotten through and through so far as my old sinful

nature is concerned.

No matter which way I turn, I can’t make myself do right.

I want to, but I can’t.

When I want to do good, I don’t.  And when I try not to do wrong,

I do it anyway…

It seems to be a fact of life that when I want to do what is right,

I inevitably do what is wrong.

I love God’s law with all my heart.

But there is another law at work within me that I am at war with my mind.

This law wins the right and makes me a slave to the sin that is

still within me.

Oh, what a miserable person I am!  Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin?  Thank God!  The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.

So you see how it is:

In my mind, I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin.

Romans 7:18-25

Do you ever feel that way?  You want to do right but you do the opposite?  You don’t want to, but you do.  You are not alone.  We can all be Paul’s or Paulette’s!

The marvelous beauty in this is found in verse 25.  Jesus Christ is the answer!  On the cross Jesus said you are forgiven!  Go and sin no more.  Out with the old – in with the new.  Isn’t that refreshing?  I look at my life and I am so grateful that I am accepted because I rejected.  It says the Holy Spirit gives us desires, which take away our sin.  Another opposite.  If we allow the Holy Spirit to control our lives there is life!  If we allow our sinful nature to control our lives there is death!  Another opposite.

Accepting and then rejecting does not mean we are perfect, it does not mean that we will not sin.  It does mean that we will not die in our sin and that we will live eternally.  The ultimate opposite!

You might have heard about my girls – my chicks – there are seven of them.  I love those stinkin things.  We do a lot of chicken watching at our house.  During the day they run a muck – they cover every inch of our 12 every day, and where one goes they all go.  They’re flockers.  They stick together unless someone’s sitting anest.

During the day they wander and at night they’re cooped up – it’s one of those two story jobs.  Settling in for the night is a process, which doesn’t voluntarily begin before darkish.  When dusk hits they instinctively head for their coop.   Settling in for the night is a process for them.  They take turns going in and out before the doors close.  They run in and think about roosting then they run out for one last bite.  In.  Out.  Bite to eat.  Drink.  Hop up.  Hop down.  Jostling.   They chase each other and squeeze each other out, jockeying for the best roost position.  If one tries to go up the ladder before another thinks they should, they get a peck or two on the head.  Maybe even a pluck.  Ouch Georgie Girl!  Poor Ethel is always the last to ascend she’s most often pushed, pecked and bullied.  It’s a tough crowd.

After finally ascending to the coop, the jockeying for position is not yet over.  They move, they ruffle, they peck, they squawk.  It’s constant.  I try to intervene, to restore calm, but I’m reminded that it’s what chickens do.  They’re animals – fowl, technically.  They have a pecking order.

One thing I’ve noticed is that we, me, I, have chicken-tendencies.  We, me, are not so different from them, really.  We do the same sometimes.  I know I do.

After watching the news the other day, I started thinking how very similar we are to my girls.  We treat each other the same way my girls treat each other, and it’s permissible and acceptable.  I wondered to myself – when did it get okay?  When did it get okay to be mean?  Push.  When did it get okay to call people names?  Squawk.  When did it get okay to degrade other people?  Bump.  When did it get okay to mistreat others?  Peck.  When did it get okay to speak our minds without care for others’ tender hearts?  Pluck.  When did it get okay to say what we want, regardless of the cost to someone else?  Scar.  When did it get okay to bully?  Jostle.  When did it get okay?

Clearly, my chickens have not heard about the Greatest Commandment.  Sometimes I act like I’ve not heard it either.

The most important commandment is this:  Hear, O Israel!

The Lord our God is the one and only Lord.

And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul,

All your mind, and all your strength.

and your neighbor as yourself.

Mark 12:29-31

According to Jesus, this is the most important commandment.  Notice He gives us a few directions before we are to love each other.  His directions are just that – listed in order of importance.  First, he gets our attention.  Then He identifies Himself.  Next, He tells us exactly what we must do.  He says:

Listen up folks!

I am the only God!

You must love Me with absolutely everything you have – heart, soul, mind, strength,

Only when you do that can you love your neighbor as you should.

Only by putting God first in our hearts, in our souls, in our minds, with all the strength that we have, can we love others as we should.  He knew we would struggle with love because we are human, that’s why he gave us the directions – He’s shown us how to work this love thing.

God did not tell us to love our neighbors if we want to, if they love us first, if they’re loveable.  He said love your neighbor as yourself.  Do we do that?  Do we love each other as we love ourselves – maybe.  Maybe that’s our problem.

Paul tells us living in the Spirit – heart, soul, mind, strength – produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  We can pretty much tell if we’re living in the Spirit or living in the world by the fruits we produce.   Will they know I’m a Christian by my love?  By my words?  By my deeds?  By my eyes?  By my life?  The fruits are not to be practiced occasionally, they are to be how we live our life.  They are to be practiced consistently.  What a wonderful world it would be if we all immersed ourselves in the fruits.

We peck.  We bump.  We shove.  We squawk.  We pluck.  We scar.  We jostle.  We act like animals.  We act fowl.  That’s the truth.  Ugh!  We need a Cross check.  We are sinners living in a fallen world but that doesn’t excuse our actions.  Because we are His we are to be of the world and not in the world.

When did it get okay to peck, bump, shove, squawk, pluck, scar, or jostle each other?  It didn’t.  It never did.  It’s just not okay.

This plaque hangs on the door of the library in my church.  As with most churches, it’s one of those plaques that was hung to honor someone in the church for doing something honorable.  Hassel Frye was my grandfather.  He was a talented wood worker, and he built the shelves in the church library.  When he passed away, the church honored his memory and his talent – a gift from God and used for God – by placing this plaque on the library door.  Every time I open that door I think of my grandfather, and I smile.

Granddaddy was an interesting man.  He was a super hard worker, as most of his generation.  He often worked two jobs.  I remember him working as a milkman, construction man, furniture making man, breadman, and maintenance man.  I’m sure there were more jobs before my time.  Granddaddy had strong beliefs and stronger opinions, as most of his generation did.  You could say he was stubborn — uncompromising.  What he said went.  That was not always a bad thing.  But, when Hassel spoke, you listened.

Granddaddy enjoyed wood working.  He had this workshop up behind his house.  It smelled like fresh cut wood, stale burnt wood from the pot belly stove, and granddaddy’s cigars.  To this day those fragrances take me back, and I smile.   I love those smells.   In the workshop we grandkids had our own tools to “work” beside him.  While he was working with power tools, he would give us a hunk of scrap and we would nail, saw, and screw.   He tolerated our “help,” most of the time.

Granddaddy liked to relax after work.  He would come home from the bakery spent from a bread baking day.  He’d climb into his recliner after dinner and play beauty parlor with us kids.  Well, not really, he sat there and we combed his hair while he watched the news.  Yep, believe it or not.  As if that’s not astounding enough, granddaddy would let us put curlers in his hair.  Pink curlers.  We would wind what few strands he had around these pink curlers and clip them in.  He would sit there and watch the news with a couple of pink curlers in his hair.  If you knew my grandfather, you’d be shocked!  If he knew I was telling you this, he’d be shocked!

Granddaddy was a cigar smoker.  One day he rode up the road to Pownall’s where he often bought cigars – uh-oh!  We thought we had taken out all the curlers but…we missed just one.  My uncompromising, opinionated, sometimes harsh, hardworking, wonderful grandfather walked into a store to buy a cigar with a pink curler on his head.  Isn’t that awesome!  Of course, he didn’t know it.  When he left the beauty parlor he assumed his do was done.

Granddaddy was not a compromiser – just ask my mom and Aunt Sandi.  It didn’t mean he was always right because no one is.  It didn’t mean that you always liked what he said because you rarely did.  It meant that he was confident in his thoughts and knew what he believed enough to say it.  It also meant that he could be a kind, loving and generous grandfather without compromising.  I wonder what granddaddy would think of today’s world and its calls for compromise.

Today we are called to compromise our families, our work, our health, our friends, our Church, our lives.  You see the world is a very compelling place to live.  It sucks you in before you know what has happened with flashy lights and false promises.

Jesus told His followers – He told us — what He required of them in Matthew 16:24-26.

If any of you want to be my follower, you must put aside your selfish ambition,

shoulder your cross, and follow me.

If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it.

But if you give up your life for me you will find true life.

And how do you benefit if you gain the whole world

but lose your own soul in the process?  Is anything worth more than your soul?

In order to be followers of Christ, we are to reject the world.  We are to be different.  We are to know the Truth, believe the Truth, and follow the Truth.  To be a follower of Christ I must reject the world and follow Him.  Definitely easier said than done.

Do I compromise?  You betcha.  Can I hold fast?  Sometimes.  Do I live for the world?  Sometimes.   Am I wrong when I do?  Absolutely.

But you see, I know someone who never compromises, who never wavers, who never lies, who holds firm and always keeps His promises, despite the world. He’s always there – kind, loving, generous, uncompromising and He loves us so much that he gives us the tools to do the same.

No man can serve two masters:  for either he will hate the one, and love the other;

or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other.  Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

Matthew 6:24

We cannot follow God and the world.  That’s compromising.  We cannot serve God and mammon – riches, treasures.  We can’t have two masters – we can’t have it both ways.

So, what do we do?  We hold tight.  We hold fast.  We don’t compromise.  We don’t waver.  We stand up and bow down.  We bow not to the world, but we bow down to the One true God who gave us a way out of eternal darkness and into eternal light.

That’s the window sill in my living room.  Looking from the inside out.  It looks out on our front yard and the road to our house.  It’s the place we all look if we hear something out front.   I know what you’re saying – that looks a little rough.  I know.  It is in disrepair and desperately in need of a sand down and a whitewashing.  How did it get that way you ask?  Shenandoah.

You may have heard about Shenandoah.  Remember, the worst-best dog we’ve ever had?  I could go on and on about the many characteristics (faces) of Shenandoah.  Some misbehaviors – worst – jumping into the window when a car goes by, when a cat goes by, when a deer goes by, when a chicken goes by.  Mostly very admirable qualities – best – she’s a Lab so she’s cute, she’s loyal, she’s high energy, she’s territorial, she’s fiercely protective.  She loves walks, dog food, watermelon, carrots and lettuce.  In her free time she enjoys laying on her bed and chasing chickens and rabbits.  Sounds like a bio for a pageant, doesn’t it?  She’d win – she’s the total package.

Anyway, I was walking through the living room the other day and like most days when I walk through the living room there are two thoughts that come to my mind.  First, I need to clean the dog slobbers off those front windows and two, I need to paint that window sill, it looks terrible.  You see, that durn window is right at eye level for Shenandoah.  Consequently, when a car, cat, deer, chicken, person, ant, lighting bug, fly, anything, goes by that window outside and she happens to be looking, she attacks the window.  Her front paws leap (no kidding) into the window sill, she slobbers on the window, and she barks incessantly and ferociously.   The HVAC maintenance guy told us one time that no one would ever get in our house with her there.  Frankly, her behavior is ridiculous and that’s what we say to her as we “discipline” her and lead her to her crate for the millionth time.  Although I appreciate her protectiveness she’s a reactor.  Her reactions to things going by out front are completely inappropriate and damaging.  Her paw-jerk reaction is just that – something she has not clearly thought through or she would see the consequence of her actions.  The consequence is that she’s punished in some way for the collateral damage she has caused to my window sill.

If I’m honest with myself, I’m not much different than Shenandoah.  It’s a good thing God doesn’t put me in a crate.  I do the same thing.  I paw-jerk – leap, bark, attack, slobber and act ferociously at times too – I sometimes, more than I care to admit, react without thinking.  I’m wrong.  I’m clearly not listening to what the teachers tell us.

James tells us to “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to get angry.”  He tells us to act, not react.  We are first to listen – Breathe.  Slow to speak – Pray.  Slow to get angry – think before spouting off.

Paul instructs us too:

…lead a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God.

Be humble and gentle.

Be patient with each other,

making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love.

Ephesians 4:2

We were chosen by God to reflect Jesus – to act like Jesus.  Searching the Word for the characteristics of Christ to be lived out in our lives is the place to start.  We cannot reflect what we don’t know.   If we don’t know the ways of Jesus we can’t act like Jesus.  If we don’t act – breathe, pray, think, we react – pounce, bark, slobber.  The Word tells us how to act so we don’t have to act like reactors.

Since God chose you to be the holy people whom he loves,

you must clothe yourselves with

tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.

You must make allowances for each other’s faults

and forgive the person who offends you.

Colossians 3:13

Sure, we’re going to get it wrong sometimes – we’re going to get led to the crate.  However, a life worthy of our calling is not a life of reaction but a life of action.  Breathe.  Pray.  Think.  Act.

Sure I wave the American flag.  Do you know a better flag to wave?

Sure I love my country with all her faults.

I’m not ashamed of that, never have been, never will be.

John Wayne

The American Flag.  Just the mention of it gets us all riled up, doesn’t it?  It stirs us to love, hate, fear, gratitude, commitment, reverence, pride, disappointment, anger, allegiance, something.

It stirs me to love.  Many different loves.  I think of those who loved me enough to die for me, even though they didn’t know me.  To die for me so that I might have freedom.  Freedom, while on this earth to write this blog, to go to work, to live in my home, to worship my God, all unencumbered, for now.  This kind of love is devastatingly costly.  I honor those who have paid the ultimate price so that I and others around the world may have freedom.  We use the American Flag as a symbol of that freedom.  We revere it, wave it boldly and defend it.

The American Flag has 13 white and red stripes representing the original colonies.  The colonies were founded for different reasons.  Some for business reasons, some for religious reasons.  All with independence from the crown in mind.  This is similar to the Cross of Christ isn’t it?  Don’t both have stripes?

But he was wounded for our transgressions,

he was bruised for our iniquities:

the chastisement of our peace was upon him;

and with his stripes we are healed…he was whipped and we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

John Wayne spoke so boldly of the American Flag.  Can I, will I, speak so boldly of the Cross of Christ?  You see the Cross of Christ is another symbol of freedom – the ultimate freedom – the eternal freedom.

Shouldn’t we also seek independence?  Freedom from the dependence on sin?  Jesus paid the ultimate sacrifice for our sin.  The price was devastatingly costly.  He was wounded, striped for our transgressions, so that we might have peace.  He died so that we would have freedom, freedom to choose life.  Freedom from hurt and brokenness.  His wounds heal our wounds!

He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.

He counts the stars and calls them all by name.

How great is our Lord!  His power is absolute!

His understanding is beyond comprehension!

Psalm 147:3-5

Isn’t this land, and our kinsmen in it, in desperate need of having its wounds bandaged, it’s brokenness repaired?  You know healing for the wounded and brokenhearted has already been accomplished.

The stars on the flag are named, named for each State that makes up the union.  It’s the same for the Cross  – our names are stitched on hands that were nailed to the cross, the name of each person that makes up His Eternal Kingdom.  Count them.

Freedom and independence are not to be taken lightly.  In order to be freed and independent, you have to leave captivity and dependence.  We have to leave the known, no matter how bad it is, for the unknown, no matter how good it is.  We have to turn from sin – He has freed us from bondage.

The American Flag represents our physical freedom.  The Cross of Christ represents our eternal freedom.  Only by waving the Cross of Christ can we also wave the American Flag and thus experience true freedom and independence.

 Sure I wave the Cross of Christ.  Do you know a better Cross to wave?

Sure I love my Jesus, the perfect Son of God.

I’m not ashamed of that, never have been, never will be.

By his stripes we are healed.  By his wounds we are healed.  By the Cross of Christ we are made whole.  Do you know a better Cross to wave?

Heard that?  Yep.  Me too.  It’s a chorus sung a lot in raising children and training animals.  You teach a lesson, you train.  Over and over you sing the song and somehow the children and the pets still seem to forget the assignment.  We’re not so different from them — are we?  We hear the lesson, we train – over and over –and still we forget.  God knows of our short memories, our lack of diligence in our studies and he gave us song.

The priests of the Old Testament recognized forgetfulness too.  They actually experienced that forgetfulness.  Mistake after mistake after mistake.  Wandering after wandering after wandering.  Repentance after repentance after repentance.  Restoration after restoration after restoration.  I wonder if the priests asked the question too.  How many times do I have to tell you?  I wonder if God ever thinks that about me?  Beth, how many times do I have to tell you?  How many times do I have to tell you to be obedient?  How many times do I have to tell you the path to take?  How many times do I have to tell you I love you?  How many times?

O my people, listen to my teaching.  Open your ears to what I am saying,  For I will speak to you in a parable.  I will teach you hidden lessons from our  past—Stories we have heard and know, Stories our ancestors handed down to us.   We will not hide these truths from our children But will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord.  We will tell of his power and the mighty miracles he did.  Psalm 78:1-4

Psalm 78 was written by a guy named Asaph.  Asaph was appointed by King David to lead one of the Levitical choirs.  Asaph was a choir director in his Church.  This Psalm, like so many others, recants the history of the Jewish nation from the time of their slavery in Egypt to the reign of King David.  Why?  To remind them — us.

The people of Israel made a habit of forgetting about God.  We look at their history, their story, and we say how could you forget?  How could you forget the Passover, the parting, the provision?  You were there.  You saw it.  You lived it.  Isn’t it emblazoned on your mind?  How can you forget?

Again, I’m not so different.  I forget about the One who stilled the water when the waves of life are crashing over me.  I forget about the One who restores when I need restoration.  I forget about the One who loves when I most need loved.  I forget about the One who saves when I most need saved.  I forget about the One who died so that I might live.  I forget the One…  I forget the One… I forget the One…

He knew we would forget.  He knew we would need reminders.  He gave us His reminder.  The active, living, breathing Word of God.  One of his most precious gifts to us filled with reminders of forgiveness, love, mercy, grace, redemption, rehabilitation.  I don’t know about you but I need reminded every second of every day.  Not to live in the past, but to learn from the past.

You’d be surprised what you can learn from a chicken.  Yep, a chicken.  I’ve had laying hens for about a year now and I’m convinced you can learn all you need to know about life from them.  Everything I Need to Know I Learned From a Chicken – not really, but sort of.

I have seven laying hens, different colors, different breeds, different sizes, different personalities (yes, chickens have personalities), even different egg colors – white, brown and blue.  I started with eight but Esther ended up being Edward and had to go.  Anyway, I have one named Susan.  She’s a beauty.  A Rhode Island Red with this deep rich red coat.  She’s a handful.

As we were leaving for Church one Sunday, I glanced down at the barnyard.  Susan had hopped out of the chicken pen and was wandering alone in our front field.  We headed out.

After Church a quick check on “the girls” revealed Susan had not yet come back.  I went on the hunt.  It is not safe for a chicken to be out and about alone in our neck of the woods – predators.  I walked through the field calling her – yes, she knows her name, making my chick-chick sounds.  No answer.  I walked through the barn – no answer.  I was concerned.  The search party (Livi and Tony) eventually located Susan inside the barn – she had been hanging out on the hay, alone.  Susan was taking a minute.  She had left the hustle and bustle – yes, of the chicken pen for a moment alone.  The chicken pen is an active place, noisy — squawking, one is always bossing, pushing around, pecking, trying to nudge out another, always butting in line, talking over top of each other, constantly trying to establish the pecking order, stealing each other’s food, making a mess of the hen house, generally messing with each other’s minds.  Sound familiar?   Kind of like our lives, right?

Susan got fed up and made a getaway.  Susan needed a minute.  I completely understand where she was coming from.  Don’t you?  Sometimes we need to pull-a-Susan and take a minute.  Runaway, get rid of all the noise in our lives – all the squawking, pushing and shoving, and get to a quiet place – we need to run to Jesus.   We need a minute —  sometimes two.

You see that’s exactly what Jesus did and we are to follow his example.   Mark 1:35 tells us:

And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.

Jesus was in the thick of things – Jesus was the thick of things.  He was a busy man.  He was gathering His flock – calling His disciples, organizing, giving instruction, teaching the Good News, traveling from town to town healing bodies and souls.  The more he taught and healed, the more people came to be taught and healed.  In the midst of that hustle and bustle, Jesus needed a moment.  He needed to be alone, without companions, away from the squawking, pushing, shoving, etc., to speak to God, His Father.

Jesus started his days by taking a minute in the morning.  We do that too sometimes — take a morning moment.   But do we often run to Jesus throughout our day, or do we just wait until the next morning to take another moment?  Luke tells us in 5:15 that despite Jesus’ instructions, word of His power spread like wildfire and loads of people came to hear his message and to be healed.  Hustle and bustle.  Luke then goes on to tell us in verse 16: “But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.”  It doesn’t say Jesus withdrew occasionally, just in the morning, or once a day, it says he “often” withdrew.  Often, again and again, regularly, usually, repeatedly, consistently.

Paul tells us in Philippians 4 not to worry about anything but instead pray about everything.  Take a moment – separate yourself from the life-craziness, the overdrive of this world – and lift your cares to Jesus.  We are told if we do this – take a moment — we will experience God’s peace which is more wonderful than our minds can comprehend.

When we found Susan, she hopped off the hay bales and calmly walked back to her pen.  She was refreshed.  Susan’s escape lasted for a few hours.  Our escapes may only last a few minutes but then we too can walk back to our pens, our jobs, our families, our laundry, our kids, our Churches, our communities, our lives – refreshed.

Yes, you can learn lessons from a chicken.  Thanks, Susan.