I got home from work and have been doing some minute-before-last-minute Christmas prep. (Last minute stuff will be done tomorrow.) I was thinking, as I have all this Christmas season, about how .. . well . . . terrible . . . "this Christmas" has been for me. And it's not even Christmas yet. But, "Christmas" runs from after Thanksgiving Dinner all the way through Christmas Day. And it has been rough this year. I love Christmas. Always have. Always will. I love it this year, but I haven't enjoyed it. I lost something. I can't do what I second-most want to do for Christmas. And it's, metaphorically speaking, killing me. It hurts.
Even as I write this, I know that there are untold numbers of people out there, some that I know personally, that would joyfully trade their problems for mine. Mine, I hope and pray, is temporary. It can change. Others have known such losses as I cannot fathom. They are deep, sometimes tragic, and often permanent losses. There is no hope or prayer that will change such loss. So I am not by comparison holding my problems up as "poor Dennis" worthy. What I am saying is that we must all be careful of the way we mark Christmas.
Christmas is a powerful time. It amplifies whatever we are feeling. It makes good better and bad worse. I don't have time or room for my explanation of this here and now, but it just does. When we are children, we mark Christmas by what we get. We enjoy everything else about the Day and the season, but we don't realize that yet. When we are older, we mark Christmas by what we have, what we give. What we have are memories, family and friends, experiences. What we give are memories, love, experiences . . . and gifts. I realized tonight that this Christmas, for me, is in great danger of being marked by what I lost.
I think a lot of people, year after year, mark Christmas by what they've lost. I don't mean to minimize the impact of any kind of loss. Christmas is a time to reflect on all sorts of things, from what we have to what we've lost, to what we hope for for ourselves and those we love. It's a time to focus on what we have in the greatest of gifts, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Not only did He save my soul, I think He has been a real life saver this year. I don't think I could have made it without Him. I know I couldn't. I 'm not saying I would have physically died. I'm saying that whatever is left of me He is holding together. I can't tell you how many times I have thanked Him for simply being here. Not that He is "simply" anything.
Tomorrow, later today actually, I'll probably regret being this open. I tend to pour it all out at 2 am. So all this is to say to you, please don't mark Christmas by what you lost. In Jesus, we all gained everything, . . . more than we can know. And the great gift Jesus brings covers ANY loss we can suffer in this life. We have to bear them for a while, but, He WILL take care of our losses ,whatever . . . whoever . . . that might be. It won't always be in this life, on this world. It can't always be. But He will. Maybe you need to find a new way to mark Christmas. If that is the case I join with so many others in hope and prayer that you will.
Have yourself a Merry Christmas! I will. (Somewhat embarrassed, I'm sure, but I will.)
Connected,
Dennis
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Everything you ask for? . . . of course!
For my Thanksgiving post this year, I will just say that I am truly thankful for difficult times. ("Difficult" is putting it nicely.) It's not that I have it, but I am getting it. And I wouldn't be getting it without those hard times. I'm sorry that's what it took, and we don't always go through hard times alone, but I am glad He gave me what I needed. What we learn about ourselves in such times is almost - almost - as important as what we learn about God. Actually, if we fail to learn anything more about ourselves, we are not likely to learn anything more about God.
I have come to believe that God always gives us what we ask for. You see, He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows that when we are asking for a "thing", what we are really asking for is a change in the way we feel or the way we perceive ourselves without that "thing". We're really asking for something to change us. Our desperation for a change in situation or circumstance is really our desperation for Him.
Our wants can be pure. They can also be a twist, or a perversion, of a real need. So, when we ask for "the thing" or "the change", we are really asking from a need sometimes so deep within us that we don't even recognize it. God has promised to meet our every need no matter how it is expressed. . . . even if it is expressed in some frivolous, unnecessary, selfish want. That's why we should bring our every care to Him.
In His grace and His mercy, God takes care even of what we really should be asking of Him:
"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God." Romans 8:26 - 27
So, yes, you get everything you ask God for. You just don't always know what you're asking!
If you would allow me to make a suggestion finally learned from my own experiences: Pray from your sincerity for God's will, including what we call God's best, for your life. Be willing to accept things that may not look like the best of anything, or that might not feel very good for a while, if that is what it takes. If it's hard to take the "you" out of your prayer, ask God to give you a clean, sincere heart for Him. You probably won't see change right away and the change, when it comes, might not look like you expected. But, when you "get it", you will know it. You will know that something has changed inside you and that change will soon begin to manifest itself in your life.
When you trust God to decode your prayer you will realize that you get everything you ask for. And when it comes to thankfulness, you might just find yourself thanking God for things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Connected,
Dennis
That's why we shouldn't hold back from asking.
I have come to believe that God always gives us what we ask for. You see, He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows that when we are asking for a "thing", what we are really asking for is a change in the way we feel or the way we perceive ourselves without that "thing". We're really asking for something to change us. Our desperation for a change in situation or circumstance is really our desperation for Him.
Our wants can be pure. They can also be a twist, or a perversion, of a real need. So, when we ask for "the thing" or "the change", we are really asking from a need sometimes so deep within us that we don't even recognize it. God has promised to meet our every need no matter how it is expressed. . . . even if it is expressed in some frivolous, unnecessary, selfish want. That's why we should bring our every care to Him.
In His grace and His mercy, God takes care even of what we really should be asking of Him:
"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God." Romans 8:26 - 27
So, yes, you get everything you ask God for. You just don't always know what you're asking!
If you would allow me to make a suggestion finally learned from my own experiences: Pray from your sincerity for God's will, including what we call God's best, for your life. Be willing to accept things that may not look like the best of anything, or that might not feel very good for a while, if that is what it takes. If it's hard to take the "you" out of your prayer, ask God to give you a clean, sincere heart for Him. You probably won't see change right away and the change, when it comes, might not look like you expected. But, when you "get it", you will know it. You will know that something has changed inside you and that change will soon begin to manifest itself in your life.
When you trust God to decode your prayer you will realize that you get everything you ask for. And when it comes to thankfulness, you might just find yourself thanking God for things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Connected,
Dennis
That's why we shouldn't hold back from asking.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Maybe if they heard that heart beating . . .
It was just after midnight and we were expecting our first grandchild to make her way into our world at any moment. It would be more than 18 hours later before she did. That was a memorable night. One thing I could not get over was sitting in that room listening to her heart beat over the monitor. It was just an amazing experience for me. There we were waiting for her. And there she was waiting to make her debut on her own terms. And that little heart was pumping away. It was real from day one, but that little while spent listening to her heart, her life, there in her mother's womb is an indescribable wonder.
It was like she was in another room. Even now, it's still amazing. She was in there, living, sleeping . . . whatever babies do in there. But, there was no doubt that there was a little human being in there! And she was alive. And she was dependent on her mother for that life.
Here we are, the presidential election of 2016 just weeks away. Many are frustrated with the choices we have. But we do have a choice. One candidate claims to be for choice. She is in favor of a mother being given the choice to end that life, to put a stop to that heart beating within her. She is OK with the idea of a "medical" staff acting upon the desire of the mother to put an end to the life within her . . . the life that was depending on her above all to be protected and to one day breathe the sweet air of the life intended for her or him. She doesn't deny that there is life there. She simply says that a baby inside the womb has no constitutional right to life. It's funny, no, it's pathetic, that, when it suits her, she can step outside the constitution to declare "basic, fundamental rights of all". And, yes, there are rights that exist beyond our constitution. God given rights. She doesn't see life for developing, unborn babies to be among those. If they could vote, I'm sure she would find a way.
The other candidate (yes, I know we have third party candidates running, but they won't win, won't affect the issues, and will only skew the vote in one direction for one of the two major party candidates) states that he has evolved into a pro-life, anti-abortion stance.
I don't see ProLife as a purely Christian issue. The opposition likes to color it as a religious issue, as if that delegitimizes it in some way. Taking innocent life is wrong, Christian or not.
There are many issues to consider in this election. The future of our country as a land of the free, as we have known it, is very likely at stake. But, what kind of future does our country have when hundreds of thousands of innocent unborn babies, human beings, not lumps of tissue or Americans with no constitutional rights, are killed in the womb, or even on their way into the world, seconds away from taking that first breath. How can anyone hear, or know, that a heart is beating in there participate in any way in bringing that heart beat to a halt, knowing that a life has been cut short before it got a good start?
People wonder what our country has come to because of our choice of Presidential candidates.
People, in the most important areas of human existence, the right to life and the protection of innocent life, we passed the what-have-we-come-to watermark a long time ago.
What are you going to do about that when you go into the voting booth in November?
Connected,
Dennis
Post Script: I'm pretty sure that some women reading this have had an abortion, or are close to someone who has. Please know that I have nothing but love for you. More important than that, God loves you, and Jesus holds forgiveness for you. Maybe you have received that forgiveness and you know the peace that only He can give. I do not want to disturb that peace. You know better than I do why we must all work to end abortion. I pray that you constantly receive the ministering power of Christ. There is no guilt, no shame for those who know Jesus as Lord and Savior. There should be nothing but love and acceptance of you from all who love Christ just as they should receive the same from you. We have all fallen short. God bless you!
It was like she was in another room. Even now, it's still amazing. She was in there, living, sleeping . . . whatever babies do in there. But, there was no doubt that there was a little human being in there! And she was alive. And she was dependent on her mother for that life.
Here we are, the presidential election of 2016 just weeks away. Many are frustrated with the choices we have. But we do have a choice. One candidate claims to be for choice. She is in favor of a mother being given the choice to end that life, to put a stop to that heart beating within her. She is OK with the idea of a "medical" staff acting upon the desire of the mother to put an end to the life within her . . . the life that was depending on her above all to be protected and to one day breathe the sweet air of the life intended for her or him. She doesn't deny that there is life there. She simply says that a baby inside the womb has no constitutional right to life. It's funny, no, it's pathetic, that, when it suits her, she can step outside the constitution to declare "basic, fundamental rights of all". And, yes, there are rights that exist beyond our constitution. God given rights. She doesn't see life for developing, unborn babies to be among those. If they could vote, I'm sure she would find a way.
The other candidate (yes, I know we have third party candidates running, but they won't win, won't affect the issues, and will only skew the vote in one direction for one of the two major party candidates) states that he has evolved into a pro-life, anti-abortion stance.
I don't see ProLife as a purely Christian issue. The opposition likes to color it as a religious issue, as if that delegitimizes it in some way. Taking innocent life is wrong, Christian or not.
There are many issues to consider in this election. The future of our country as a land of the free, as we have known it, is very likely at stake. But, what kind of future does our country have when hundreds of thousands of innocent unborn babies, human beings, not lumps of tissue or Americans with no constitutional rights, are killed in the womb, or even on their way into the world, seconds away from taking that first breath. How can anyone hear, or know, that a heart is beating in there participate in any way in bringing that heart beat to a halt, knowing that a life has been cut short before it got a good start?
People wonder what our country has come to because of our choice of Presidential candidates.
People, in the most important areas of human existence, the right to life and the protection of innocent life, we passed the what-have-we-come-to watermark a long time ago.
What are you going to do about that when you go into the voting booth in November?
Connected,
Dennis
Post Script: I'm pretty sure that some women reading this have had an abortion, or are close to someone who has. Please know that I have nothing but love for you. More important than that, God loves you, and Jesus holds forgiveness for you. Maybe you have received that forgiveness and you know the peace that only He can give. I do not want to disturb that peace. You know better than I do why we must all work to end abortion. I pray that you constantly receive the ministering power of Christ. There is no guilt, no shame for those who know Jesus as Lord and Savior. There should be nothing but love and acceptance of you from all who love Christ just as they should receive the same from you. We have all fallen short. God bless you!
Monday, May 16, 2016
Boxer Upper? or Box Buster?
We buy something that we know or hope someone else will enjoy having. We take it home and put it in a box and wrap it up in pretty paper and add ribbons and bows to make that box look better, more appealing. We hope they will pick up that box and carry on a bit about how pretty that box looks. Eventually, they will unwrap the box and take the gift out. And, maybe, it's just what they wanted. And they treat it as though it came from the box. We all do. The thing is, it didn't come in the box. It came from somewhere outside of the box.
I'll just say that you might like your box. It's kind of like your mother's womb. You can feel the limits of your box and it is a very secure feeling. Your whole world is wrapped up with you in your box. You like your box, but you want more.
Everything you want, certainly everything God wants for you, is somewhere outside of your box. Just like that present came from some place outside the box, God's greatest gifts are outside of your box. He didn't create you in a box and doesn't want you to spend your life there. "Whom the Lord sets free is free indeed" carries a lot of meaning. Maybe among its most profound deliverances is that you are free to leave your box.
"Every good thing comes from God." He lovingly takes care of us where ever we are. But, I don't see Him reaching in and sticking more and more and more in this box with us. If you feel slighted by God, or confused as to why things aren't working out, or you just can't seem to take hold of that which you know He has for you, maybe you are bound up by all the familiar things and ways in which you take your security. Maybe the prospect life in a new and uncertain territory is scary. At least you know what you have here. Going back to that gift we started with, you had to go to the store to get it. Maybe you didn't know what you were going to get until you found it on the shelf. And may be you saw it and said, "This is just the thing for . . . ." We will never know "just the thing " God has in store for us until we go to Him to receive our gift from Him. And He has so much for us.
I sometimes wonder why God surrounded us with an apparently limitless universe.Well, for one thing it shows His limitless power and ability. It displays His limitless creativity. This vast created thing is dwarfed by the Creator Himself. God is all about unconditional, unlimited love, mercy, and grace. His blessings set us free from where we are and continually call us to new challenges, new faith, and new steps into His grace. Jesus said, "I am making all things new." Think about that. In this world new things grow old. That new car or truck will be old in a matter of years. That new outfit will soon be old and out of style. "New" discoveries are made daily, but this universe in which they are found is old itself. So, we are discovering old things.
"I am making all things new." Jesus' "new" does not grow old. His work is not to make something that is going to get old. The fact that He says "I am making" proves it to be eternally new. So stepping out of that box is the beginning of a great God-ordained journey. From faith to faith. From Grace to grace. . . . always new!
Chains come in all shapes and sizes. They have all kinds of purposes. We are told that some prisons are akin to country clubs. Maybe a closer look at that box you're in will reveal that it actually is a prison of sorts. It's comfortable. It's secure. It looks nice. But it has walls, limits. It controls your way of speaking, your way of thinking, your way of living. It keeps you from being all you can and should be. You might see that those pretty ribbons you are all wrapped up in are actually chains binding you to a lesser way of life, the bows are locks that you hesitate to break. The pretty paper wraps you up in a satisfying style, but keeps you from seeing the great gift that is just outside of your box.
So, break the pretty ribbons that have you all tied up. Throw off the bows that you love staring at. Tear the pretty paper, break the tape that holds that box together and get out! Reach out and take what God has placed before you.
"How do I start?" A suggestion - What is it about yourself that has always been the same? What is one thing . . . physical, mental, emotional, material . . . that you have never been willing or able to change? What is the thing that you have never even thought about changing? It may call for some open-minded thought, but it will come to you. Well, change that! Do so as a reminder to yourself and a sign to the world that you have left your box. It might not seem to be a spiritually related thing in any way, but it does signal to yourself that a door is open. You are reaching for newness and change. You are saying in a tangible way, "OK, God, let's go!" You're following God into newness in your life. . . . a spiritual newness and all that comes with it.
You won't find anything new sitting in that old box. And, the great thing is, you don't do this alone. He will guide you along the way . . .every step. We just have to be willing to make the step and obedient to go where He guides. We must face the truth. When it comes to breaking out of the box, getting out of the boat, breaking chains, . . . whatever you want to call it . . . we have no such power within ourselves. Where can you find such power? Watch the video.Bust that box!
Connected,
Dennis
And then it would be nice to take a look into God's telescope, but just remeber if you're here, He's not finished with you yet!
I'll just say that you might like your box. It's kind of like your mother's womb. You can feel the limits of your box and it is a very secure feeling. Your whole world is wrapped up with you in your box. You like your box, but you want more.
Everything you want, certainly everything God wants for you, is somewhere outside of your box. Just like that present came from some place outside the box, God's greatest gifts are outside of your box. He didn't create you in a box and doesn't want you to spend your life there. "Whom the Lord sets free is free indeed" carries a lot of meaning. Maybe among its most profound deliverances is that you are free to leave your box.
"Every good thing comes from God." He lovingly takes care of us where ever we are. But, I don't see Him reaching in and sticking more and more and more in this box with us. If you feel slighted by God, or confused as to why things aren't working out, or you just can't seem to take hold of that which you know He has for you, maybe you are bound up by all the familiar things and ways in which you take your security. Maybe the prospect life in a new and uncertain territory is scary. At least you know what you have here. Going back to that gift we started with, you had to go to the store to get it. Maybe you didn't know what you were going to get until you found it on the shelf. And may be you saw it and said, "This is just the thing for . . . ." We will never know "just the thing " God has in store for us until we go to Him to receive our gift from Him. And He has so much for us.
I sometimes wonder why God surrounded us with an apparently limitless universe.Well, for one thing it shows His limitless power and ability. It displays His limitless creativity. This vast created thing is dwarfed by the Creator Himself. God is all about unconditional, unlimited love, mercy, and grace. His blessings set us free from where we are and continually call us to new challenges, new faith, and new steps into His grace. Jesus said, "I am making all things new." Think about that. In this world new things grow old. That new car or truck will be old in a matter of years. That new outfit will soon be old and out of style. "New" discoveries are made daily, but this universe in which they are found is old itself. So, we are discovering old things.
"I am making all things new." Jesus' "new" does not grow old. His work is not to make something that is going to get old. The fact that He says "I am making" proves it to be eternally new. So stepping out of that box is the beginning of a great God-ordained journey. From faith to faith. From Grace to grace. . . . always new!
Chains come in all shapes and sizes. They have all kinds of purposes. We are told that some prisons are akin to country clubs. Maybe a closer look at that box you're in will reveal that it actually is a prison of sorts. It's comfortable. It's secure. It looks nice. But it has walls, limits. It controls your way of speaking, your way of thinking, your way of living. It keeps you from being all you can and should be. You might see that those pretty ribbons you are all wrapped up in are actually chains binding you to a lesser way of life, the bows are locks that you hesitate to break. The pretty paper wraps you up in a satisfying style, but keeps you from seeing the great gift that is just outside of your box.
So, break the pretty ribbons that have you all tied up. Throw off the bows that you love staring at. Tear the pretty paper, break the tape that holds that box together and get out! Reach out and take what God has placed before you.
"How do I start?" A suggestion - What is it about yourself that has always been the same? What is one thing . . . physical, mental, emotional, material . . . that you have never been willing or able to change? What is the thing that you have never even thought about changing? It may call for some open-minded thought, but it will come to you. Well, change that! Do so as a reminder to yourself and a sign to the world that you have left your box. It might not seem to be a spiritually related thing in any way, but it does signal to yourself that a door is open. You are reaching for newness and change. You are saying in a tangible way, "OK, God, let's go!" You're following God into newness in your life. . . . a spiritual newness and all that comes with it.
You won't find anything new sitting in that old box. And, the great thing is, you don't do this alone. He will guide you along the way . . .every step. We just have to be willing to make the step and obedient to go where He guides. We must face the truth. When it comes to breaking out of the box, getting out of the boat, breaking chains, . . . whatever you want to call it . . . we have no such power within ourselves. Where can you find such power? Watch the video.Bust that box!
Connected,
Dennis
And then it would be nice to take a look into God's telescope, but just remeber if you're here, He's not finished with you yet!
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Too Pooped To Participate
I have this friend. Just so you know I'm putting his story in my words . . . this friend of mine. Just so you know.
Fatigue is my enemy. Or maybe fatigue is what my enemy has brought me to. It's hard to do anything in a state of fatigue. So, as a weapon of subterfuge hauled into and willingly accepted in the enemy camp, fatigue may be the next best thing to mind control. Distract, complicate, confuse, and invalidate a mind . . . get that mind working against itself . . ., immobilize, and you are winning a battle that you are not even having to fight. . . . Clever on the part of my enemy.
Everything looks like a mountain. Everything. I get it done and wonder what the big deal was, and I look behind me to see nothing more than a molehill, if that. I think, man, if you would just do it you could get so much done. And I promise myself that tomorrow I will. I'm tired today. I'll get a good night's sleep and if the LORD gives me tomorrow I'm gonna get stuff done big time!
The thing is, when my mind and my body are in agreement to "do this" I have to do it now. And I have to finish it. If there is something, no matter how large or small the task, that someone else insists on me doing that pulls me away, I'm not likely to come back to "my task". And if I do, the thrill is gone, the mountain has risen, and I'm back climbing again. The plan, the map, the "way", left the room with me, but didn't come back. I knew just how I was going to get this done just a short while ago. Suddenly it's complicated.
If I'm not sitting still I'm climbing. That's OK. We all have mountains to climb. A little more downhill would be nice from time to time. Again, once done, I realize that it actually was pretty much a downhill stretch. Shucks! Missed it!!
So, if I look like I don't want to do something, it's probably more of a case where, for no particular reason, I can't. . . . but, I really can, so I will. . . . in a minute. It's perplexing and potentially embarrassing. There's that notion that if I would just do something else differently this would all go away.
I know the secret, though, and it's . . . Wait! I'm gonna have to cut this short. I gotta go do something!
Or so that friend of mine says.
Connected,
Dennis
Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted;but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isa. 40:28-31
For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish. Jer. 31:25
Here's your video.
Friday, January 22, 2016
Do All Rock Stars Go To Heaven?
I could list the names, but I won't. I don't know who this fits and who it doesn't.There have been a good many celebrity deaths over the past week or so and many of those were from the broad tent of the world of rock and roll.
So, I’m just gonna say this. It’s the truth. I’m not being insensitive or judgmental, just truthful. Not all rock stars go to Heaven. There is no Rock 'n Roll Heaven. There is not a Hell of a band in Heaven. There is not a Hell of anything in Heaven. The two don’t mix. Good music, good acting, good art, good deeds, . . . nothing we call good, is a highway to Heaven. There is no rule you can follow that will get you there. There is no regret deep enough to get you there. There is no fear great enough to get you there. There is no scale or list balancing good and evil that can be tipped in your favor by just one more measure of good that will get you there. You can’t wish or positive think yourself there. There is no group or church that you can belong to that will get you to Heaven. You can't go to Heaven just because you want to go to Heaven.
Eternity in Heaven is easy. You don’t have to figure it all out and have all the answers. You don’t have to earn it. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations or please anyone, even the preacher, to get there.
You can’t do anything to get yourself to Heaven. All roads do not lead to Heaven. All religions do not lead to Heaven. . . . Shoot, NO religion leads to Heaven!
There is a long, long list of things people all over the world are doing in their quest to get themselves to Heaven and every single one is a waste of time and effort. I know. Decades of my own life amount to nothing more than that kind of waste.
The list of what WILL get you there is short, . . . just one entry. Jesus. That’s it. He is THE Way, THE Truth, THE Life. He did the hard work. He shoulders the burden.
Maybe this fits you. Don't let nice thoughts, or nice words, or nice songs, or nice feelings send you to a place where nothing, absolutely nothing, is nice. Discover the truth and discover something that "nice" doesn't even come close to describing.
If you need help with this, there is someone near you who can do just that. Reach out. You might need to make a phone call or visit a local church. (Be careful of where you go. Remember that church part I mentioned earlier. I was not going to list any more "cant's", but you can't give, donate, or buy your way into Heaven either.) You can email or message me. I will be glad - honored and privileged - to talk to you. But, none of us can save you. You can get your hands on a Bible, seek the answer and you will definitely find it. There is no way or answer other than Jesus. And He is easy to find. He’s the reason you’re even thinking about this! His gift is free to all . . . even rock stars! (So, yes, there are some up there!)
If you need help with this, there is someone near you who can do just that. Reach out. You might need to make a phone call or visit a local church. (Be careful of where you go. Remember that church part I mentioned earlier. I was not going to list any more "cant's", but you can't give, donate, or buy your way into Heaven either.) You can email or message me. I will be glad - honored and privileged - to talk to you. But, none of us can save you. You can get your hands on a Bible, seek the answer and you will definitely find it. There is no way or answer other than Jesus. And He is easy to find. He’s the reason you’re even thinking about this! His gift is free to all . . . even rock stars! (So, yes, there are some up there!)
And then you will begin to learn that there is more to this eternal life than “just” Heaven.
I realize that most of my regular readers already know this and are on your way. Maybe, though, we can help someone who needs it.
Connected,
Dennis
So, this is how they got it on SNL.
So, this is how they got it on SNL.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
True Companions
She was very young when Amy took her in, little more than a baby. And from that moment on, where Amy went, she went, except for that year early on when Amy couldn't keep her. She was with Sharon and I then. She had visited many times before, but having her here as part of our household was a great joy. I was glad that Amy could take here back home, but I missed her just the same. Other than that they've been together, she and Amy.
They started out in Starkville when Amy was in college. They traveled to Florida and lived in Crestview, Florida for a few years before traveling further down to the West Coast of Florida to a new home together. From there, they traveled all the way up to Virginia together.
It was in Virginia that circumstances remade their family of three into a family of two. Amy was on her on, but she was not alone. She had great friends . . . wonderful friends, and she had her constant companion. It wasn't long before their family of two became a family of four! And they traveled together again, this time to Arizona.
Life has been different for her there, but good. She had a new brother to adjust to. They had their quarrels, but they grew to love one another, each in their own way. She kept that sweet spirit that went with her natural beauty. She was always beautiful. And I do believe a sweeter spirit could not be found in any earthly creature. Always she remains to our daughter Amy a true companion, and Amy her one safe place.
Amy's deep love for her shined through the difficulties of sickness and age. And Amy's husband, Michael, lovingly, whether that love is for Amy or her, or both, shared Amy's total commitment to her care and well being and quality of life. A great family, if it can be said that families are made of such. But, a visit . . . visits . . . to her doctor finally revealed that time was urgently short for her.
Amy hurried home yesterday when she got the news that her body could bear with this world no longer. She wanted to spend these last hours with her before their final trip to the doctor. They've been so many places together, but it was time for her to go on, and Amy couldn't travel with her this time. Well, it was not to be. KC, Kaci, KayCee (we never really knew how it was spelled, but it is pronounced CaSey) left on her own. When Amy walked through her door late yesterday evening Kaci's beautiful body was there, but her sweet spirit was gone.
It's sad. It's very sad. It hurts. Amy is heartbroken and I'll admit that it's hard to see my keyboard through these tears for them both. Fourteen years. They went through some tough, extremely difficult times together. Kacie may have denied Amy of those last hours, that long goodbye, that final comfort and assurance that Amy so wanted to give her. But, knowing Amy as I do, I really believe Kacie spared Amy of that heart-wrenching, guilt laden act that was to take place today. It was down to too hard or unbearable, hurt or wounded.
14 years for Amy was like 98 years for Kacie. A long time either way. I don't care who or what you are, you get to know each other over a lifetime. As hard as it is to have happened the way it did, I believe that it would have been harder as planned. For all of her life, Amy has made most of Kacie's decisions for her. For Amy, Kacie, in God's way, made her own final decision. A true companion to the end.
I just noticed on a Christmas card that Amy spells it Kacie, She's the authority, so Kacie it is.
A couple of videos you might want to watch are shown below.
Connected,
Dennis
Kacie was a rescue dog. Amy was her safe place.
And then there's this one. This is not Kaci, but it's a great family dog video. BTW, the song was actually written for his dog, in case you didn't know.
They started out in Starkville when Amy was in college. They traveled to Florida and lived in Crestview, Florida for a few years before traveling further down to the West Coast of Florida to a new home together. From there, they traveled all the way up to Virginia together.
It was in Virginia that circumstances remade their family of three into a family of two. Amy was on her on, but she was not alone. She had great friends . . . wonderful friends, and she had her constant companion. It wasn't long before their family of two became a family of four! And they traveled together again, this time to Arizona.
Life has been different for her there, but good. She had a new brother to adjust to. They had their quarrels, but they grew to love one another, each in their own way. She kept that sweet spirit that went with her natural beauty. She was always beautiful. And I do believe a sweeter spirit could not be found in any earthly creature. Always she remains to our daughter Amy a true companion, and Amy her one safe place.
Amy's deep love for her shined through the difficulties of sickness and age. And Amy's husband, Michael, lovingly, whether that love is for Amy or her, or both, shared Amy's total commitment to her care and well being and quality of life. A great family, if it can be said that families are made of such. But, a visit . . . visits . . . to her doctor finally revealed that time was urgently short for her.
Amy hurried home yesterday when she got the news that her body could bear with this world no longer. She wanted to spend these last hours with her before their final trip to the doctor. They've been so many places together, but it was time for her to go on, and Amy couldn't travel with her this time. Well, it was not to be. KC, Kaci, KayCee (we never really knew how it was spelled, but it is pronounced CaSey) left on her own. When Amy walked through her door late yesterday evening Kaci's beautiful body was there, but her sweet spirit was gone.
It's sad. It's very sad. It hurts. Amy is heartbroken and I'll admit that it's hard to see my keyboard through these tears for them both. Fourteen years. They went through some tough, extremely difficult times together. Kacie may have denied Amy of those last hours, that long goodbye, that final comfort and assurance that Amy so wanted to give her. But, knowing Amy as I do, I really believe Kacie spared Amy of that heart-wrenching, guilt laden act that was to take place today. It was down to too hard or unbearable, hurt or wounded.
14 years for Amy was like 98 years for Kacie. A long time either way. I don't care who or what you are, you get to know each other over a lifetime. As hard as it is to have happened the way it did, I believe that it would have been harder as planned. For all of her life, Amy has made most of Kacie's decisions for her. For Amy, Kacie, in God's way, made her own final decision. A true companion to the end.
I just noticed on a Christmas card that Amy spells it Kacie, She's the authority, so Kacie it is.
A couple of videos you might want to watch are shown below.
Connected,
Dennis
Kacie was a rescue dog. Amy was her safe place.
And then there's this one. This is not Kaci, but it's a great family dog video. BTW, the song was actually written for his dog, in case you didn't know.
Monday, December 21, 2015
The Harvester's Christmas, a Troubled Fields vignette
(This post may not mean much to you if you haven't read my novel, "Troubled Fields". Well, it may not mean much to you if you have! But, here is a brief glimpse into Ray Bennett's day a couple of weeks before Christmas this year. This takes place some twenty-eight years after "Troubled Fields". When I started this I had no idea of where it was going. I hope you enjoy catching up just a little bit.)
The Harvester's Christmas, a Troubled Fields vignette, by Dennis Manor
We all have those places. Memories so firmly attached to a piece of real estate that, no matter how much has changed, we see it as it was before we see it as it is. Every day, every few years, or rarely, what was is what we see though it may be long gone . . . a thing of the past. Over the course of his day, sometimes several times a day, Ray Bennett drives past the lot that once housed his dream, the tractor shed from which Bennett Harvesters was to rise and provide for so much more than a living. It was to be a way of life. He always sees the old shed there, a long "L" shaped building, the oldest part held together by wooden pegs. The "new" part was a good forty years old when the fire took it all down. Beyond the old shed he saw the big house that once stood on the hill, imposing itself on everyone and everything within sight.
The vision always lasted for only a moment to be replaced by reality. The lot, now empty of any structure, opened to the pasture in back. Cows grazed nonchalantly where men once worked to bring a dormant business to life. A place where, some forty years before that, men bet on a horse race that changed ownership of the small lot and set events in motion that would leave four men dead, families split and destroyed, and new hope born of old, violent grudges. All that took place over a good fifty years, but life was now good, for the most part.
Two chimneys, one crumbling, were all that remained of the great house where Carl Sullivan ruled his empire with an iron fist. It was the house where Miss Emily had tried her best to make a home for Laura and Lori. Her own tormented life often getting in the way.
Laura and Lori. . . . sisters who were as different as their names were alike. Back in the summer of '72, Ray had envisioned a life with Laura. After all, they were having a baby together. They seemed to be in love . . . thought they were. But, that was before the fight with Carl, and fifteen years of prison, and Laura's marriage to Clint. It was before Lori.
Lori. Ray was amazed at the peace she brought to his life. In spite of the turmoil she had known at the hands of her father, Lori was a refuge for Ray. These past twenty-seven years had not brought the life he had dreamed of and planned for laying on his cot in Parchman Penitentiary. Unexpected things, unplanned events happened, some good some bad. Lori, was the best of these. Looking back now, he would take this unexpected life with Lori over his well planned life in a heart beat. . . . a heart beat. That's Lori.
Ray parked his truck in the drive to the lot and climbed over the gate. Bob ran after him, scooting under the barbed wired fence, bobwire, as it was called. The fence, of course, wasn't named for the dog. The dog wasn't named for the fence. Bob Riley's death had left such a whole in Ray's life that he was compelled to fill it with something. Dogs did a poor job of it, but here he was with his second dog named Bob. Ray could clearly hear Mr Bob say something like, "I knew I was goin' to the dogs when I came to work for you" without cracking so much as a grin. Of all the people he missed, Mr Bob ranked among the top few.
Bob followed Ray to the far corner of the lot and immediately caught on to Ray's intention. They had been working together like this for a good thirteen years. Not as spry as he had once been, Bob could still work cattle. The enthusiasm was still there if not the speed and agility. Of course, Ray had to admit that at sixty-one years old he was not what he once was either. A touch of regret came over him . . . again.
Twenty-eight years. To Ray, that was the entire expanse of his life. Fifteen years in prison, turning nineteen in Parchman Penitentiary, left his childhood and teen years filed away in his mind with things that never happened. And yet events that occurred in his eighteenth summer shaped his life to this day. He returned home on parole at the age of thirty-three. Those first few months, though, tried him in ways his time in prison never could. Less than two months after his parole, less than two months of working his grandfather's old business and beginning the life he had dreamed of since childhood, it all quite literally went up in smoke. And once again Ray's life changed dramatically.
Still, it was a good life. He loved Lori's children as his own. He considered the three of them to be his own, though he had only been able to adopt two. One of the so-called fathers refused to cooperate. It made no sense because he also refused to see his child. Ray was her daddy, though. Neither of them would have it any other way. He and Lori had long regretted that they were never able to adopt Matt and Billie Rose. Matt was all for it, but he wouldn't go if Billie Rose didn't. The story behind that was yet another trial endured by Ray as well as those around him. He hated the fact that his problems always seemed to affect those he loved most. He was not a dangerous man, but danger did cross his path on occasion.
Emmy had long ago settled in to calling him "Pop". She was comfortable with it so he was. They had grown very close, the strain and awkwardness of their relationship having melted slowly over the years following the fire. She bore scars from the fire on her left arm and to a lesser degree near her jawline. She didn't worry so much about covering that one with her hair these days. Like most of them, she kept the emotional scars to herself. But, she was happy now.
Between Emmy, and Susannah, Davey, and Priscilla Marie, Ray and Lori had eleven grandchildren. Billie Rose had a daughter who was as much a grandchild to Ray and Lori as Billie was a daughter.
In parenting as well as grandparenting, there was no competition between Ray and Clint, the man Emmy thought was her father for the first fifteen years of her life. Clint never fully recovered from his involvement in the fire. He was a broken man, but that's what Carl Sullivan did for most of his life . . . he broke people. The lives wrecked and ruined in his attempt to break Ray often weighed on Ray. Maybe he should have just bent to Carl's will, signed over the lot and left Winstead County. Would things have been so bad for everyone else involved?
One thing Ray knew, he couldn't have made it through any of his trials alone. Sure he had Lori and his family. He had Mr Bob, Thomas, and Matt. He had Emmy. He had his "new" friend of twenty seven years, Glen Melton, an old competitor in the harvesting business. He had acquired the title of Harvester when he took on his grandfather's business. But, it took something much bigger than all of these people he loved so to carry him along and give him reason for another shove at life. The older he grew, the more he understood that all of his hopes were wrapped up in one great Hope. And this Hope is a sure thing, steady, confident, and ever present.
And so it was that Ray honored that Hope in a special way each year. He had never seen fit to rebuild on this lot. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. To most who passed by it was only a patch of dirt and grass. To Ray it had been the land of his hope. Once a year it became a simple reminder of what had gone before. . . . as recently as twenty-eight years before, and as long as a couple thousand years before.
Having cleared the lot of cattle, Ray took the lumber from his truck and went to work. It didn't take long; he had been doing this for well over two decades. It was cold all around him, but he quickly warmed as he moved about intentionally. When he finished, "Come on!" brought Bob trotting back from his visit with the cows. Backing out of the lot with Bob in the seat beside him, Ray took another look at his handiwork. Where the north end of the tractor shed had stood, where the oldest part was and where it had all begun now stood a ramshackle stable with a manger visible in the center of it. On the south end, where the "newer" part of the shed had stood, where work on this great dream had been completed, stood a cross.
The stable and the manger as well as the cross were constructed of wood that Ray long ago salvaged from the ruins of the tractor shed. Though it was charred in places and weathered from many decades of service, Ray figured that old wood now served a greater purpose than it ever did back when it protected farm equipment and implements from the elements. Spotlights he rigged on the power pole would separately illuminate the stable and the cross once the darkness of night set in.
Ray was often asked about the display. It was kind of like farming. Sometimes he planted the seed. Sometimes he cultivated. And sometimes he got to be in on the harvest. 'Like a Harvester', he thought to himself. People liked the structure and the light. They didn't understand why it was all empty. "It would really be neat if you had some shepherds and some wise men", folk's would say. And this gave Ray his opportunity to tell the story.
He would first tell of the land, what was once there and the hope and dreams it held for generations even before his own. Then he would say that he wanted it now to speak of a different hope. He told of the baby, the Savior, that had slept in the manger, but who was there no more. He had grown up and walked this earth as a man and had set in motion a plan for eternity. He told of the cross, where the Savior's work on earth was finished; His finished work to be brought into and carried and lived in the hearts of mankind. He told of how Jesus lives beyond the cross. "That covers the light on the stable and the light on the cross," they would invariably say, "but, what about that light that shines on the empty spot further down from the cross? I understand that Jesus is not in the manger and He's not on the cross, but shouldn't he be there beyond the cross like you said?"
Ray would grin. "Well, the manger and the cross are symbols of places where Jesus has been. The other spot is a little different. You're right. It's where Jesus should be. It's a symbol of the ultimate reason for the stable and the cross. The question is, are you standing in that light?"
Ray reached over and scratched Bob behind the ear as he drove away. They would be back with nightfall, as would his family and other volunteers from the church. They all respected his wish to do the construction work alone. Over the years, the display had become an attraction of sorts. Mary, aging now but not frail, served coffee and hot chocolate from Ray's ancient camper while Christmas carols played on a cd player. People would come from miles around, from farther away than Jackson even! The story of what had happened here was something of a legend and that contributed to the draw. They would stop and walk from the manger to the cross. Someone would be with them telling the story. Children ran to bask in the third light, some understanding, some not quite, but that was alright. Adults would at first stop short of the brightly illuminated circle on the cold brown earth. Some who came year after year, this being a tradition for them now, would walk reverently, thoughtfully into the light. They would stand there for a moment looking skyward. There were those who would raise their hands joyfully.
Occasionally, one of the volunteers would ring the bell that had been moved into place for just this purpose. The crowd would instinctively hush. Mary would silence the cd. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, brother and sisters," the volunteer would shout. They would say the name of the person standing beside them, who was often in tears or grinning ear to ear, and continue ". . . is now walking in the light of the Lord!"
Ray knew angels in Heaven were rejoicing over this new soul saved through faith in Jesus by the grace of God, but he thought it would be a bit cheesy to strike up "The Hallelujah Chorus" on the cd player about now. Besides, though some in attendance were bewildered by the celebration, claps and cheers and hugs among the jubilant believers in attendance marked the occasion quite well. And more opportunities to explain what this was all about naturally arose as new believers took their first steps, literally and figuratively, in the light.
This went on for two weeks before Christmas. Always, before and after, Ray's brief memories of all that had once brought hope and sorrow to this small piece of ground, lives that had been changed by greed and hate and vengeance, were replaced by nothing less than visitations of hope and joy and lives changed by the power and love of Jesus that now took place on this land.
When Ray was thirty-three years old he thought nothing would satisfy him more than working his own business from his own place, this place. That was his idea of thinking big. Now at sixty-one, he was amazed at his own small mindedness. He had been told, even in prison, that God could do greater things through him than he could ever imagine. And now from a place where hope, and dreams, and even lives, had been lost, God was bringing new hope, new dreams, and new life. It wasn't Ray's place anymore. And it was not his own interest that he pursued. He realized that he had so little to do with what went on here. And from that came far greater peace and satisfaction than Ray could ever have hoped to find anywhere in his own dreams. Oh, he still loved the work he did. It was the new purpose in it all that had replaced his dream with the one God gave him.
Making it a point to greet every person that walked onto the property, Ray offered each one a heartfelt "Merry Christmas" and often found himself speaking words of encouragement that could only have been for the man or woman, or couple, or child that he was facing. And as he turned to greet yet another, he would glance toward the stars and whisper a quiet "Thank you, Lord".
Merry Christmas
Connected,
Dennis
PS You might like this song:
The Harvester's Christmas, a Troubled Fields vignette, by Dennis Manor
We all have those places. Memories so firmly attached to a piece of real estate that, no matter how much has changed, we see it as it was before we see it as it is. Every day, every few years, or rarely, what was is what we see though it may be long gone . . . a thing of the past. Over the course of his day, sometimes several times a day, Ray Bennett drives past the lot that once housed his dream, the tractor shed from which Bennett Harvesters was to rise and provide for so much more than a living. It was to be a way of life. He always sees the old shed there, a long "L" shaped building, the oldest part held together by wooden pegs. The "new" part was a good forty years old when the fire took it all down. Beyond the old shed he saw the big house that once stood on the hill, imposing itself on everyone and everything within sight.
The vision always lasted for only a moment to be replaced by reality. The lot, now empty of any structure, opened to the pasture in back. Cows grazed nonchalantly where men once worked to bring a dormant business to life. A place where, some forty years before that, men bet on a horse race that changed ownership of the small lot and set events in motion that would leave four men dead, families split and destroyed, and new hope born of old, violent grudges. All that took place over a good fifty years, but life was now good, for the most part.
Two chimneys, one crumbling, were all that remained of the great house where Carl Sullivan ruled his empire with an iron fist. It was the house where Miss Emily had tried her best to make a home for Laura and Lori. Her own tormented life often getting in the way.
Laura and Lori. . . . sisters who were as different as their names were alike. Back in the summer of '72, Ray had envisioned a life with Laura. After all, they were having a baby together. They seemed to be in love . . . thought they were. But, that was before the fight with Carl, and fifteen years of prison, and Laura's marriage to Clint. It was before Lori.
Lori. Ray was amazed at the peace she brought to his life. In spite of the turmoil she had known at the hands of her father, Lori was a refuge for Ray. These past twenty-seven years had not brought the life he had dreamed of and planned for laying on his cot in Parchman Penitentiary. Unexpected things, unplanned events happened, some good some bad. Lori, was the best of these. Looking back now, he would take this unexpected life with Lori over his well planned life in a heart beat. . . . a heart beat. That's Lori.
Ray parked his truck in the drive to the lot and climbed over the gate. Bob ran after him, scooting under the barbed wired fence, bobwire, as it was called. The fence, of course, wasn't named for the dog. The dog wasn't named for the fence. Bob Riley's death had left such a whole in Ray's life that he was compelled to fill it with something. Dogs did a poor job of it, but here he was with his second dog named Bob. Ray could clearly hear Mr Bob say something like, "I knew I was goin' to the dogs when I came to work for you" without cracking so much as a grin. Of all the people he missed, Mr Bob ranked among the top few.
Bob followed Ray to the far corner of the lot and immediately caught on to Ray's intention. They had been working together like this for a good thirteen years. Not as spry as he had once been, Bob could still work cattle. The enthusiasm was still there if not the speed and agility. Of course, Ray had to admit that at sixty-one years old he was not what he once was either. A touch of regret came over him . . . again.
Twenty-eight years. To Ray, that was the entire expanse of his life. Fifteen years in prison, turning nineteen in Parchman Penitentiary, left his childhood and teen years filed away in his mind with things that never happened. And yet events that occurred in his eighteenth summer shaped his life to this day. He returned home on parole at the age of thirty-three. Those first few months, though, tried him in ways his time in prison never could. Less than two months after his parole, less than two months of working his grandfather's old business and beginning the life he had dreamed of since childhood, it all quite literally went up in smoke. And once again Ray's life changed dramatically.
Still, it was a good life. He loved Lori's children as his own. He considered the three of them to be his own, though he had only been able to adopt two. One of the so-called fathers refused to cooperate. It made no sense because he also refused to see his child. Ray was her daddy, though. Neither of them would have it any other way. He and Lori had long regretted that they were never able to adopt Matt and Billie Rose. Matt was all for it, but he wouldn't go if Billie Rose didn't. The story behind that was yet another trial endured by Ray as well as those around him. He hated the fact that his problems always seemed to affect those he loved most. He was not a dangerous man, but danger did cross his path on occasion.
Emmy had long ago settled in to calling him "Pop". She was comfortable with it so he was. They had grown very close, the strain and awkwardness of their relationship having melted slowly over the years following the fire. She bore scars from the fire on her left arm and to a lesser degree near her jawline. She didn't worry so much about covering that one with her hair these days. Like most of them, she kept the emotional scars to herself. But, she was happy now.
Between Emmy, and Susannah, Davey, and Priscilla Marie, Ray and Lori had eleven grandchildren. Billie Rose had a daughter who was as much a grandchild to Ray and Lori as Billie was a daughter.
In parenting as well as grandparenting, there was no competition between Ray and Clint, the man Emmy thought was her father for the first fifteen years of her life. Clint never fully recovered from his involvement in the fire. He was a broken man, but that's what Carl Sullivan did for most of his life . . . he broke people. The lives wrecked and ruined in his attempt to break Ray often weighed on Ray. Maybe he should have just bent to Carl's will, signed over the lot and left Winstead County. Would things have been so bad for everyone else involved?
One thing Ray knew, he couldn't have made it through any of his trials alone. Sure he had Lori and his family. He had Mr Bob, Thomas, and Matt. He had Emmy. He had his "new" friend of twenty seven years, Glen Melton, an old competitor in the harvesting business. He had acquired the title of Harvester when he took on his grandfather's business. But, it took something much bigger than all of these people he loved so to carry him along and give him reason for another shove at life. The older he grew, the more he understood that all of his hopes were wrapped up in one great Hope. And this Hope is a sure thing, steady, confident, and ever present.
And so it was that Ray honored that Hope in a special way each year. He had never seen fit to rebuild on this lot. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. To most who passed by it was only a patch of dirt and grass. To Ray it had been the land of his hope. Once a year it became a simple reminder of what had gone before. . . . as recently as twenty-eight years before, and as long as a couple thousand years before.
Having cleared the lot of cattle, Ray took the lumber from his truck and went to work. It didn't take long; he had been doing this for well over two decades. It was cold all around him, but he quickly warmed as he moved about intentionally. When he finished, "Come on!" brought Bob trotting back from his visit with the cows. Backing out of the lot with Bob in the seat beside him, Ray took another look at his handiwork. Where the north end of the tractor shed had stood, where the oldest part was and where it had all begun now stood a ramshackle stable with a manger visible in the center of it. On the south end, where the "newer" part of the shed had stood, where work on this great dream had been completed, stood a cross.
The stable and the manger as well as the cross were constructed of wood that Ray long ago salvaged from the ruins of the tractor shed. Though it was charred in places and weathered from many decades of service, Ray figured that old wood now served a greater purpose than it ever did back when it protected farm equipment and implements from the elements. Spotlights he rigged on the power pole would separately illuminate the stable and the cross once the darkness of night set in.
Ray was often asked about the display. It was kind of like farming. Sometimes he planted the seed. Sometimes he cultivated. And sometimes he got to be in on the harvest. 'Like a Harvester', he thought to himself. People liked the structure and the light. They didn't understand why it was all empty. "It would really be neat if you had some shepherds and some wise men", folk's would say. And this gave Ray his opportunity to tell the story.
He would first tell of the land, what was once there and the hope and dreams it held for generations even before his own. Then he would say that he wanted it now to speak of a different hope. He told of the baby, the Savior, that had slept in the manger, but who was there no more. He had grown up and walked this earth as a man and had set in motion a plan for eternity. He told of the cross, where the Savior's work on earth was finished; His finished work to be brought into and carried and lived in the hearts of mankind. He told of how Jesus lives beyond the cross. "That covers the light on the stable and the light on the cross," they would invariably say, "but, what about that light that shines on the empty spot further down from the cross? I understand that Jesus is not in the manger and He's not on the cross, but shouldn't he be there beyond the cross like you said?"
Ray would grin. "Well, the manger and the cross are symbols of places where Jesus has been. The other spot is a little different. You're right. It's where Jesus should be. It's a symbol of the ultimate reason for the stable and the cross. The question is, are you standing in that light?"
Ray reached over and scratched Bob behind the ear as he drove away. They would be back with nightfall, as would his family and other volunteers from the church. They all respected his wish to do the construction work alone. Over the years, the display had become an attraction of sorts. Mary, aging now but not frail, served coffee and hot chocolate from Ray's ancient camper while Christmas carols played on a cd player. People would come from miles around, from farther away than Jackson even! The story of what had happened here was something of a legend and that contributed to the draw. They would stop and walk from the manger to the cross. Someone would be with them telling the story. Children ran to bask in the third light, some understanding, some not quite, but that was alright. Adults would at first stop short of the brightly illuminated circle on the cold brown earth. Some who came year after year, this being a tradition for them now, would walk reverently, thoughtfully into the light. They would stand there for a moment looking skyward. There were those who would raise their hands joyfully.
Occasionally, one of the volunteers would ring the bell that had been moved into place for just this purpose. The crowd would instinctively hush. Mary would silence the cd. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, brother and sisters," the volunteer would shout. They would say the name of the person standing beside them, who was often in tears or grinning ear to ear, and continue ". . . is now walking in the light of the Lord!"
Ray knew angels in Heaven were rejoicing over this new soul saved through faith in Jesus by the grace of God, but he thought it would be a bit cheesy to strike up "The Hallelujah Chorus" on the cd player about now. Besides, though some in attendance were bewildered by the celebration, claps and cheers and hugs among the jubilant believers in attendance marked the occasion quite well. And more opportunities to explain what this was all about naturally arose as new believers took their first steps, literally and figuratively, in the light.
This went on for two weeks before Christmas. Always, before and after, Ray's brief memories of all that had once brought hope and sorrow to this small piece of ground, lives that had been changed by greed and hate and vengeance, were replaced by nothing less than visitations of hope and joy and lives changed by the power and love of Jesus that now took place on this land.
When Ray was thirty-three years old he thought nothing would satisfy him more than working his own business from his own place, this place. That was his idea of thinking big. Now at sixty-one, he was amazed at his own small mindedness. He had been told, even in prison, that God could do greater things through him than he could ever imagine. And now from a place where hope, and dreams, and even lives, had been lost, God was bringing new hope, new dreams, and new life. It wasn't Ray's place anymore. And it was not his own interest that he pursued. He realized that he had so little to do with what went on here. And from that came far greater peace and satisfaction than Ray could ever have hoped to find anywhere in his own dreams. Oh, he still loved the work he did. It was the new purpose in it all that had replaced his dream with the one God gave him.
Making it a point to greet every person that walked onto the property, Ray offered each one a heartfelt "Merry Christmas" and often found himself speaking words of encouragement that could only have been for the man or woman, or couple, or child that he was facing. And as he turned to greet yet another, he would glance toward the stars and whisper a quiet "Thank you, Lord".
Merry Christmas
Connected,
Dennis
PS You might like this song:
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Maybe Next Year, the vignette and the Poem
Time was, there were two days each year that were always good just
because. The season was great, but nothing bad could penetrate the
inherent goodness, the sheer magic of these two days. It was as if the
days themselves were protected from even the faintest shadow of darkness
or discouragement. And it was all just because.
Just because it was Christmas Eve, the day was defined by near unbearable anticipation of what Christmas Day itself would bring. There was that tangible feeling, the smells and sounds of the day. Christmas Eve . . . Everything came together on that day to create an atmosphere thick with excitement. He didn't walk through Christmas Eve, he swam in it. Christmas Eve . . . it was the exciting day.
It was fun just because it was Christmas Day. This is when it all happened. And it all always happened. It began by waking early from a sleep that was near impossible to find in the first place, followed by hurriedly dressing in the cold room. The little space heater had not yet done its work, but there was no complaining about the temperature this morning, no hiding beneath the covers until the room was warm today! Then, the kids waited for Mama and Daddy to open the hall door which resulted in a stampede to the living room and a mass dive under the far-reaching branches of the Christmas Tree.
Time seemed to move slowly amid the "look what I got"'s, the "How does this work"'s, and the "Daddy, can you put this together?"'s. After the socks they used for stockings were emptied to see what all Santa Claus had stuffed in there it was time to open the presents from each to all. Ribbon, paper, and bows, flew in all directions! There was no order to the event and it was over and done well within five minutes.
Next came the visits. Up the road to visit aunts and uncles and cousins. A little further up the road to visit the grandparents. It was a grand time . . . a favorite part of the day. Even outdoors the day had a certain feel to it. It was the way Christmas "seems". And all just because it was Christmas. It was only natural that they had to head back down the road to get home. After all, the same people they had just visited were now due to visit them! More hugs and jokes and "my, my, look at that"'s. Lots of laughter. And, just in time, everyone went home because it was a little past noon and Christmas Dinner had to be served. Then came all the food and deserts that you eat just because it's Christmas.
After a "quiet" afternoon playing, a meal of cherished leftovers, and maybe another family get-together, the day he didn't want to end ended. That was the fun day, and that's the way it always happened.
Years passed. Christmas changed. Well, the way he celebrated changed. He wonders if he should have held tighter to that magic during his teen years. Maybe that's when he lost it. He always wanted it to be the same, but, it changed and it never went back. Now, decades later, he longs for the Christmas he knew as a child. The coming of Christmas still arouses that child within him. He wants his family to know Christmas as he knew it. Everything that used to be just because it was Christmas is no longer just because. It doesn't just happen. He seeks it, and if he doesn't find it he makes it, he forces it. All because it should be. It should "just be". And he feels like such a phony.
Christmas, which once brought such excitement and anticipation just because it was Christmas, now serves as an annual reminder of just what a failure he is. Oh, he gets little notices all through the year, but Christmas really brings it home.
He will readily admit that his failings are largely material. Money is always tight. Always. But, for a man who wants to do so much and yet can do so little for his family throughout the year, Christmas, with all of its grace and goodness, continues to taunt him with his own deficiencies. Every year, he finds himself saying, "Maybe next year". He embarrasses himself repeating it yet again. It has become a joke. He laughs when he says it. . . . he hurts when he says it.
He doesn't really care about getting anything. It's the radiant joy on the face of the giver that blesses him. To receive from someone who enjoys giving is a gift in itself. It's not what he receives that matters nearly so much as how it is given. He is never disappointed in the gifts he receives. A book, a cd, a dvd, a pair of bedroom shoes offered with the joy of giving means just as much as a wide screen tv, a high performance sound system, or a whole new suit of clothes.
He can't seem to reconcile himself to that on the giving end though. He has never been able to give "the nicer things in life" to those he loves. "Maybe next year I can buy the real jewelry", he tells himself. "Maybe next year I can buy the nice clothes and send my wife out looking like a million dollars!" When the kids were little, it was the nicer toys, the things little children really wanted that eluded him. "Maybe next year," he said until enough next years had passed that they had outgrown toys. Then it became the clothes, the shoes, the cd players, . . . all the stuff that made for a teenager's "in" lifestyle. "Maybe next year" until they were grown and gone and it still hasn't changed. Every year . . . every "next year" seemed to stamp "failure" on his passport from one year to the next.
The thing is, no one else shares his disappointment. It's mostly internal. He loves them all too much to let the outside know what is really going on inside. If any of them knew the burden of the load he carries, the totality of their disappointment would be for him, not in him. They love him very much. He knows this. And they love how he "keeps Christmas". Disappointment in himself takes a back seat to the joy of the season. If he can't give the gifts, he can give the experience. He can keep Christmas, and they can keep it with him. And it is in this love, the love they share, that he continues to make the most of each Christmas that passes. It's how he keeps Christmas.
It's about the love anyway. The love of God who gave His Son. The love of the Son who gave Himself. The love that comes with knowing the Son. Love that wants to give and then give more. Love that doesn't care what or how much or if it gets. Love that is its own best gift.
It's here that he ultimately finds himself . . . every year. Loving . . . loved. . . . and keeping the Day . . . just because it's Christmas. Because that's the way it should be, and that's the way it has always been, and that's the way it is. After all . . . there's always next year!
the end
Maybe Next Year
by Dennis Manor, 12/91
Christmas time is coming soon.
It's my favorite time of year.
But, there's no joy, no celebration,
no Christmas cheer around here.
Things got hard. And they just get harder.
And there's no end in sight.
There's not much to look forward to
on Christmas Eve tonight.
The little ones are snug in bed.
They'll find it hard to sleep.
While me and Mama on opposite sides
just find it hard to speak.
We're not mad. We're not out of love.
We just don't know what to say.
We never thought we'd be spending
Christmas Eve this way.
But maybe next year things'll be better'
We'll be alright, you'll see.
There'll be places to go,
maybe some snow,
and there'll be presents there under that tree.
Maybe next year I'll be workin'
and we'll be doin' fine.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
Yes, I know, there's so much more to the Day
than toys, and turkey, and gifts.
It's all for the Son of God who was born
to die so that we might live.
But, just like our father who reigns above
a man wants to do for the ones he loves.
So maybe next year things'll be better.
We'll be alright. You'll see.
There'll be places to go, maybe some snow,
and there will be presents there under that tree.
Maybe next year I'll be workin'
and we'll be doin' just fine.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
So . . . until then
let's have a real good Christmas time.
Just because it was Christmas Eve, the day was defined by near unbearable anticipation of what Christmas Day itself would bring. There was that tangible feeling, the smells and sounds of the day. Christmas Eve . . . Everything came together on that day to create an atmosphere thick with excitement. He didn't walk through Christmas Eve, he swam in it. Christmas Eve . . . it was the exciting day.
It was fun just because it was Christmas Day. This is when it all happened. And it all always happened. It began by waking early from a sleep that was near impossible to find in the first place, followed by hurriedly dressing in the cold room. The little space heater had not yet done its work, but there was no complaining about the temperature this morning, no hiding beneath the covers until the room was warm today! Then, the kids waited for Mama and Daddy to open the hall door which resulted in a stampede to the living room and a mass dive under the far-reaching branches of the Christmas Tree.
Time seemed to move slowly amid the "look what I got"'s, the "How does this work"'s, and the "Daddy, can you put this together?"'s. After the socks they used for stockings were emptied to see what all Santa Claus had stuffed in there it was time to open the presents from each to all. Ribbon, paper, and bows, flew in all directions! There was no order to the event and it was over and done well within five minutes.
Next came the visits. Up the road to visit aunts and uncles and cousins. A little further up the road to visit the grandparents. It was a grand time . . . a favorite part of the day. Even outdoors the day had a certain feel to it. It was the way Christmas "seems". And all just because it was Christmas. It was only natural that they had to head back down the road to get home. After all, the same people they had just visited were now due to visit them! More hugs and jokes and "my, my, look at that"'s. Lots of laughter. And, just in time, everyone went home because it was a little past noon and Christmas Dinner had to be served. Then came all the food and deserts that you eat just because it's Christmas.
After a "quiet" afternoon playing, a meal of cherished leftovers, and maybe another family get-together, the day he didn't want to end ended. That was the fun day, and that's the way it always happened.
Years passed. Christmas changed. Well, the way he celebrated changed. He wonders if he should have held tighter to that magic during his teen years. Maybe that's when he lost it. He always wanted it to be the same, but, it changed and it never went back. Now, decades later, he longs for the Christmas he knew as a child. The coming of Christmas still arouses that child within him. He wants his family to know Christmas as he knew it. Everything that used to be just because it was Christmas is no longer just because. It doesn't just happen. He seeks it, and if he doesn't find it he makes it, he forces it. All because it should be. It should "just be". And he feels like such a phony.
Christmas, which once brought such excitement and anticipation just because it was Christmas, now serves as an annual reminder of just what a failure he is. Oh, he gets little notices all through the year, but Christmas really brings it home.
He will readily admit that his failings are largely material. Money is always tight. Always. But, for a man who wants to do so much and yet can do so little for his family throughout the year, Christmas, with all of its grace and goodness, continues to taunt him with his own deficiencies. Every year, he finds himself saying, "Maybe next year". He embarrasses himself repeating it yet again. It has become a joke. He laughs when he says it. . . . he hurts when he says it.
He doesn't really care about getting anything. It's the radiant joy on the face of the giver that blesses him. To receive from someone who enjoys giving is a gift in itself. It's not what he receives that matters nearly so much as how it is given. He is never disappointed in the gifts he receives. A book, a cd, a dvd, a pair of bedroom shoes offered with the joy of giving means just as much as a wide screen tv, a high performance sound system, or a whole new suit of clothes.
He can't seem to reconcile himself to that on the giving end though. He has never been able to give "the nicer things in life" to those he loves. "Maybe next year I can buy the real jewelry", he tells himself. "Maybe next year I can buy the nice clothes and send my wife out looking like a million dollars!" When the kids were little, it was the nicer toys, the things little children really wanted that eluded him. "Maybe next year," he said until enough next years had passed that they had outgrown toys. Then it became the clothes, the shoes, the cd players, . . . all the stuff that made for a teenager's "in" lifestyle. "Maybe next year" until they were grown and gone and it still hasn't changed. Every year . . . every "next year" seemed to stamp "failure" on his passport from one year to the next.
The thing is, no one else shares his disappointment. It's mostly internal. He loves them all too much to let the outside know what is really going on inside. If any of them knew the burden of the load he carries, the totality of their disappointment would be for him, not in him. They love him very much. He knows this. And they love how he "keeps Christmas". Disappointment in himself takes a back seat to the joy of the season. If he can't give the gifts, he can give the experience. He can keep Christmas, and they can keep it with him. And it is in this love, the love they share, that he continues to make the most of each Christmas that passes. It's how he keeps Christmas.
It's about the love anyway. The love of God who gave His Son. The love of the Son who gave Himself. The love that comes with knowing the Son. Love that wants to give and then give more. Love that doesn't care what or how much or if it gets. Love that is its own best gift.
It's here that he ultimately finds himself . . . every year. Loving . . . loved. . . . and keeping the Day . . . just because it's Christmas. Because that's the way it should be, and that's the way it has always been, and that's the way it is. After all . . . there's always next year!
the end
Maybe Next Year
by Dennis Manor, 12/91
Christmas time is coming soon.
It's my favorite time of year.
But, there's no joy, no celebration,
no Christmas cheer around here.
Things got hard. And they just get harder.
And there's no end in sight.
There's not much to look forward to
on Christmas Eve tonight.
The little ones are snug in bed.
They'll find it hard to sleep.
While me and Mama on opposite sides
just find it hard to speak.
We're not mad. We're not out of love.
We just don't know what to say.
We never thought we'd be spending
Christmas Eve this way.
But maybe next year things'll be better'
We'll be alright, you'll see.
There'll be places to go,
maybe some snow,
and there'll be presents there under that tree.
Maybe next year I'll be workin'
and we'll be doin' fine.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
Yes, I know, there's so much more to the Day
than toys, and turkey, and gifts.
It's all for the Son of God who was born
to die so that we might live.
But, just like our father who reigns above
a man wants to do for the ones he loves.
So maybe next year things'll be better.
We'll be alright. You'll see.
There'll be places to go, maybe some snow,
and there will be presents there under that tree.
Maybe next year I'll be workin'
and we'll be doin' just fine.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
Then we'll have a real good Christmas time.
So . . . until then
let's have a real good Christmas time.
Monday, November 23, 2015
Golden Horses in Black and White
For Thanksgiving, I thought I would bring back this post from 4 years ago. (And, yes, I'm still in the gaudy Christmas blog color scheme mode) We are entering a season of many things to many people. For all, it is a season of memories. For some, wonderful and pleasing, for some, times better forgotten, but unforgettable and impossible to avoid.
This year our anniversary, our 39th, falls on the day after Thanksgiving. If we had thought about how much trouble it would be to celebrate with a night out for dinner and a movie on Black Friday, we might have planned our nuptials for another day.
Every year I search YouTube in hopes that I can find a video of Captain Kangaroo's Thanksgiving show closing. I suppose it doesn't exist. He did what would not be done in this day and time. The show ended with the Captain, Mr Greenjeans, Bunny Rabbit, Dancing Bear, Mr Moose, and whomever happened to visit the Treasure House that day sitting down to a table set for a fine Thanksgiving meal. They all bowed their heads and prayed while a recording of "We Gather Together", sung by Perry Como, I think, played until the picture faded away and the parade started. Again, I'm sorry I can't find a video of that. I did add, though, Perry Como singing the song at the bottom of this post. You might like that blast from the past.
So, here is my Thanksgiving post as it was originally and amended.:
I wrote this post a couple of years ago. As of today Sharon and I have been married for 37 years, instead of 35 when this was first written. Also, as I am writing this, it's pretty cold out, which really helps bring back those days when we sat on the floor, which was pretty cold itself, and watched Palominos parade through the crowd in front of Macy's. We didn't see them in color, but they were pretty just the same.
GOLDEN HORSES IN BLACK AND WHITE
This is a big weekend. Always has been, but the older I get the bigger it gets. I've never really thought about it in this way, but Thanksgiving is my 2nd favorite holiday.
I remember Thanksgiving as being a much colder day back when I was growing up. Our grandparents lived just up the road, so every Thanksgiving dinner was eaten either at their house or ours. Most of them were at our house. We didn't have hot water, except for what could be heated on the stove, but we did have a bathroom inside the house. I didn't mind the out house, but a cold breeze made for a particularly chilly experience. I even remember my first asparagus casserole. It became an instant favorite of mine, but I have had none in years. Before dinner, which is the meal you eat at noon, not the one you eat at night, as I constantly try to re-enlighten my sophisticated city-grown daughters, we would sit on the floor and watch the parades on our black and white tv. The floats were good, but I eagerly awaited the arrival of the horses on the scene. Horses were all around us as we were growing up, but they still were my favorite part of the parade. Those palominos decked out in their finest tack were something to see even if it was in black and white. Still are, 'cept now there's color.
Thanksgiving has changed a lot. It is warmer than it used to seem. Nobody makes asparagus casserole anymore. We still have Thanksgiving dinner at my Mama's house. The bathroom is warm and now there is always hot running water. My grandparents are long gone. Pop, my daddy, has been gone for years now, and we don't get both daughters at home for the weekend. God continues to give us much to be thankful for throughout the year and the day remains one on which we can emphasize our thankfulness for His mercy and grace and provision. And I grow more thankful each year for the memories of Thanksgivings past. I'm aware that a lot of people don't have pleasant, much less great, memories of their Thanksgivings. I pray for a good one for them this year.
Another reason that this is a big weekend is that Sharon and I will celebrate 35 years of marriage on the 27th! Our life together has not been one that I would have written, if it could have been scripted. Of course, as boring as reality seems, my written version would have been far more boring. I could not make up some of the things we've been through. But we have been through, and we are going through, and that is the important part. God reigns, God leads, and God provides. And I am excited about where He is taking us. So, to my wife, Sharon, I love you. Hang on! The ride continues!
And, last but not least, on the same day that we celebrate our wedding anniversary, I mark my 4th birthday. For 53 years, I was dying. I lived a life that was leading to death, not only physical death, but spiritual death. As some of you know, I was born and raised in the church, I was active in the church, a deacon, and a men's ministry leader. There were those who looked up to me and thought that I was something that I was not. I was a leader of sorts in my church, and anyone who would have followed me and walked the path that I was walking would have followed me into death, Hell, and eternal separation from God. God has forgiven me for that. Well . . . that makes one of us.
Along about 12:20 or so the night of November 27, 2007, technically November 28, God sat me down and finally convinced me that I was lost. I'm sure He had been trying to tell me ever since my false assumption of salvation some 44 years earlier. He sure does love me and you! As I've said before, I experienced the absolute worst and the absolute best moments of my life there within seconds of one another. To be honest, I had doubted my salvation many times over those years. I can now honestly and joyfully say that I have not doubted it since that night.
I carry a lot of regret for those lost years. I wonder how much difference it would have made to those first 31 years of marriage if I had been the man I professed to be, if the Holy Spirit had been leading my family rather than this deceived and lost man. I think about that from time to time, but I cannot dwell on it. To do so would not honor what Jesus has done for me and what he is doing in me now. So, I am indescribably thankful for the great gift of salvation and the life that goes with it. I was born on that night because that is when Jesus gave me life eternal! I don't have to worry about dying. Thanks to Jesus, I'm gonna live forever now!
We all have a past. And, if you are reading this, you have a future. We can't do anything about our past, but our future, our very next moment, is a different story. You have a moment coming up. What are you going to do with it?
Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good!
For His mercy endures forever. Psalm 107:1
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thankfully connected,
Dennis
Here's a pretty song you might not have heard before. I heard it for the first time today myself.
This year our anniversary, our 39th, falls on the day after Thanksgiving. If we had thought about how much trouble it would be to celebrate with a night out for dinner and a movie on Black Friday, we might have planned our nuptials for another day.
Every year I search YouTube in hopes that I can find a video of Captain Kangaroo's Thanksgiving show closing. I suppose it doesn't exist. He did what would not be done in this day and time. The show ended with the Captain, Mr Greenjeans, Bunny Rabbit, Dancing Bear, Mr Moose, and whomever happened to visit the Treasure House that day sitting down to a table set for a fine Thanksgiving meal. They all bowed their heads and prayed while a recording of "We Gather Together", sung by Perry Como, I think, played until the picture faded away and the parade started. Again, I'm sorry I can't find a video of that. I did add, though, Perry Como singing the song at the bottom of this post. You might like that blast from the past.
So, here is my Thanksgiving post as it was originally and amended.:
I wrote this post a couple of years ago. As of today Sharon and I have been married for 37 years, instead of 35 when this was first written. Also, as I am writing this, it's pretty cold out, which really helps bring back those days when we sat on the floor, which was pretty cold itself, and watched Palominos parade through the crowd in front of Macy's. We didn't see them in color, but they were pretty just the same.
GOLDEN HORSES IN BLACK AND WHITE
This is a big weekend. Always has been, but the older I get the bigger it gets. I've never really thought about it in this way, but Thanksgiving is my 2nd favorite holiday.
I remember Thanksgiving as being a much colder day back when I was growing up. Our grandparents lived just up the road, so every Thanksgiving dinner was eaten either at their house or ours. Most of them were at our house. We didn't have hot water, except for what could be heated on the stove, but we did have a bathroom inside the house. I didn't mind the out house, but a cold breeze made for a particularly chilly experience. I even remember my first asparagus casserole. It became an instant favorite of mine, but I have had none in years. Before dinner, which is the meal you eat at noon, not the one you eat at night, as I constantly try to re-enlighten my sophisticated city-grown daughters, we would sit on the floor and watch the parades on our black and white tv. The floats were good, but I eagerly awaited the arrival of the horses on the scene. Horses were all around us as we were growing up, but they still were my favorite part of the parade. Those palominos decked out in their finest tack were something to see even if it was in black and white. Still are, 'cept now there's color.
Thanksgiving has changed a lot. It is warmer than it used to seem. Nobody makes asparagus casserole anymore. We still have Thanksgiving dinner at my Mama's house. The bathroom is warm and now there is always hot running water. My grandparents are long gone. Pop, my daddy, has been gone for years now, and we don't get both daughters at home for the weekend. God continues to give us much to be thankful for throughout the year and the day remains one on which we can emphasize our thankfulness for His mercy and grace and provision. And I grow more thankful each year for the memories of Thanksgivings past. I'm aware that a lot of people don't have pleasant, much less great, memories of their Thanksgivings. I pray for a good one for them this year.
Another reason that this is a big weekend is that Sharon and I will celebrate 35 years of marriage on the 27th! Our life together has not been one that I would have written, if it could have been scripted. Of course, as boring as reality seems, my written version would have been far more boring. I could not make up some of the things we've been through. But we have been through, and we are going through, and that is the important part. God reigns, God leads, and God provides. And I am excited about where He is taking us. So, to my wife, Sharon, I love you. Hang on! The ride continues!
And, last but not least, on the same day that we celebrate our wedding anniversary, I mark my 4th birthday. For 53 years, I was dying. I lived a life that was leading to death, not only physical death, but spiritual death. As some of you know, I was born and raised in the church, I was active in the church, a deacon, and a men's ministry leader. There were those who looked up to me and thought that I was something that I was not. I was a leader of sorts in my church, and anyone who would have followed me and walked the path that I was walking would have followed me into death, Hell, and eternal separation from God. God has forgiven me for that. Well . . . that makes one of us.
Along about 12:20 or so the night of November 27, 2007, technically November 28, God sat me down and finally convinced me that I was lost. I'm sure He had been trying to tell me ever since my false assumption of salvation some 44 years earlier. He sure does love me and you! As I've said before, I experienced the absolute worst and the absolute best moments of my life there within seconds of one another. To be honest, I had doubted my salvation many times over those years. I can now honestly and joyfully say that I have not doubted it since that night.
I carry a lot of regret for those lost years. I wonder how much difference it would have made to those first 31 years of marriage if I had been the man I professed to be, if the Holy Spirit had been leading my family rather than this deceived and lost man. I think about that from time to time, but I cannot dwell on it. To do so would not honor what Jesus has done for me and what he is doing in me now. So, I am indescribably thankful for the great gift of salvation and the life that goes with it. I was born on that night because that is when Jesus gave me life eternal! I don't have to worry about dying. Thanks to Jesus, I'm gonna live forever now!
We all have a past. And, if you are reading this, you have a future. We can't do anything about our past, but our future, our very next moment, is a different story. You have a moment coming up. What are you going to do with it?
Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good!
For His mercy endures forever. Psalm 107:1
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thankfully connected,
Dennis
Here's a pretty song you might not have heard before. I heard it for the first time today myself.
Monday, November 09, 2015
So, does this mean I can't take red Solo cups to the Christmas party?
I thought I would apply a gaudy Christmasy look to my blog for the season. It's not so much that I hope you like it, I just hope you can tolerate it for a couple of months.
So Starbucks doesn't have decent Christmas cups this year. Well . . . I don't think they call them Christmas cups anyway. And some folks are in an uproar. If I owned a coffee shop and I thought all this cup stuff mattered I would put a banner out front and do as much marketing as I could on the theme "Christmas Coffee in Christmas Cups" - something like that anyway. And you know what I'd be doing? I'd be doing my best to sell as much coffee and expand my customer base over the next 2 months as I could. That is what I should do as a merchant, but that is ALL I would be doing . . . selling coffee . . . because Christmas customers want Christmas marketing during Christmas.
Of course Christians want to keep Christ in Christmas! Christ is what Christmas is all about. And, yes, I kind of resent it when every retailer around here wants me to do my Christmas shopping with them but they won't do me the courtesy of allowing their employees to greet me or reply to my "Merry Christmas" with a "Merry Christmas" of their own. Instead of allowing them to say it, they force them not to say it.
BUT, that resentment should not translate into a resentment that everyone I come into contact with is not a Christian. I wish they were. God would be so happy and pleased if they were. But they're not. And I'm not assuming that everyone who doesn't shout "Merry Christmas" and put my coffee in an "appropriate-for-the-season" cup is not one of my brothers or sisters.
But, for those who aren't, how are they to become Christian?
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this is not from yourselves, it is a gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9
Christmas Time, this season, is a happy joyful time for many. We look forward to it and anticipate all that comes with it. It also is a hard, sad, tearful, hurtful time for many. They dread it.
So what do we do? "We" being Christians? Do we act mad and resentful because not everyone celebrates Christmas the way we do? We celebrate the way we do because of what we have. How are "they" going to celebrate something that they don't have? Do we act ugly because someone hands us a red and green non-snowflaked cup? (the nerve!!!) Do we scowl at the lady checking us out who would so much more enjoy the season if she weren't afraid that she would lose her job for saying "Merry Christmas"? I'm sure as many miss saying it as we do hearing it.
As Christians we are to spread the joy of Christ, not anger and resentment over those who are where we were! All of us out there buying and selling all that stuff no one really needs need the same thing. Don't bow up at people who don't share what they don't have. It's "them" who should bow up at "us" for not sharing what we do have! (Can you imagine how mad they would be if they knew what we didn't tell them?)
So it chaps your hide. It does mine. Take care of that in private, get over it, and get out and show people what Christ is all about in your life. Don't show your mad face. (I found out yesterday, in a restaurant, that I have a "I'm-ready-to-go" face.) Let Christ, who is in your heart, show on your face, and in your words and actions. Love everybody. If you can't do that you might need someone to be doing more for you than wishing you a Merry Christmas!
So . . . Merry Christmas!!! And you have to watch the video. I can't believe I found this today of all days!!
Connected,
Dennis
So Starbucks doesn't have decent Christmas cups this year. Well . . . I don't think they call them Christmas cups anyway. And some folks are in an uproar. If I owned a coffee shop and I thought all this cup stuff mattered I would put a banner out front and do as much marketing as I could on the theme "Christmas Coffee in Christmas Cups" - something like that anyway. And you know what I'd be doing? I'd be doing my best to sell as much coffee and expand my customer base over the next 2 months as I could. That is what I should do as a merchant, but that is ALL I would be doing . . . selling coffee . . . because Christmas customers want Christmas marketing during Christmas.
Of course Christians want to keep Christ in Christmas! Christ is what Christmas is all about. And, yes, I kind of resent it when every retailer around here wants me to do my Christmas shopping with them but they won't do me the courtesy of allowing their employees to greet me or reply to my "Merry Christmas" with a "Merry Christmas" of their own. Instead of allowing them to say it, they force them not to say it.
BUT, that resentment should not translate into a resentment that everyone I come into contact with is not a Christian. I wish they were. God would be so happy and pleased if they were. But they're not. And I'm not assuming that everyone who doesn't shout "Merry Christmas" and put my coffee in an "appropriate-for-the-season" cup is not one of my brothers or sisters.
But, for those who aren't, how are they to become Christian?
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this is not from yourselves, it is a gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9
And how is this to happen?
"But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? That is why the Scriptures say, “How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!” Romans 10:14-15Christmas Time, this season, is a happy joyful time for many. We look forward to it and anticipate all that comes with it. It also is a hard, sad, tearful, hurtful time for many. They dread it.
So what do we do? "We" being Christians? Do we act mad and resentful because not everyone celebrates Christmas the way we do? We celebrate the way we do because of what we have. How are "they" going to celebrate something that they don't have? Do we act ugly because someone hands us a red and green non-snowflaked cup? (the nerve!!!) Do we scowl at the lady checking us out who would so much more enjoy the season if she weren't afraid that she would lose her job for saying "Merry Christmas"? I'm sure as many miss saying it as we do hearing it.
As Christians we are to spread the joy of Christ, not anger and resentment over those who are where we were! All of us out there buying and selling all that stuff no one really needs need the same thing. Don't bow up at people who don't share what they don't have. It's "them" who should bow up at "us" for not sharing what we do have! (Can you imagine how mad they would be if they knew what we didn't tell them?)
So it chaps your hide. It does mine. Take care of that in private, get over it, and get out and show people what Christ is all about in your life. Don't show your mad face. (I found out yesterday, in a restaurant, that I have a "I'm-ready-to-go" face.) Let Christ, who is in your heart, show on your face, and in your words and actions. Love everybody. If you can't do that you might need someone to be doing more for you than wishing you a Merry Christmas!
So . . . Merry Christmas!!! And you have to watch the video. I can't believe I found this today of all days!!
Connected,
Dennis
Tuesday, October 06, 2015
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow . . . that can be a good thing!
All healing is from God. There is medicine, which He has given us. There are doctors and nurses gifted by God to find, learn, think, and perform treatments and procedures that repair and/or heal. There is technology developed, changed, and improved over time that is used by those whom God has gifted with medical knowledge and abilities. There is God's miraculous healing, which we somehow see as more of a miracle than His use of men and women in the healing process, which, when you think about it, is quite miraculous in a very obvious way.
Do that. Think about that. How often does God's glory take a back seat to mankind's "ability" when it comes to matters of our life here no matter how important or insignificant they may be?
I have experienced this very thing over the past two days. A God-gifted person using God given technology told me yesterday afternoon that a serious issue was taking place in my one "good" eye. The "fix" was fairly easy, somewhat routine, but had to take place right away. So, an appointment was made with a retina specialist to zap me with a laser this morning and repair the tear that she saw in my eye.
This morning Sharon and I show up just a few minutes early to the specialist, the same one who had operated on my other eye three times for three torn retinas some twenty years ago. Due to some other complications, that eye has been no good to me in all these years. I've learned to live with it, but we've been praying for a healing.
Well, the SAME technology that was used by another doctor to find the tear in the first place was used by this doctor to find no such problem in my eye. The tear that was there yesterday was gone today! There is evidence of something else that happened, but no tear. And what did happen is pretty normal for someone my age with the eyes that I have. But, there was no tear! . . . Did I say that there was no tear?
I had not put this information out in a big way last night, but I did ask some people to pray about this. You can draw whatever conclusions you want. I even went to the notion of a misdiagnosis yesterday. Makes sense, doesn't it? But, if I am so ready to explain away the way God obviously worked in this, why would I have even asked for prayer in the first place? The logical answer here is misdiagnosis, but that takes some explaining. It calls for a conclusion that what one doctor said was there actually wasn't there. But, one doctor doesn't send you to another doctor for laser treatment on a whim, or a good guess. They do that on evidence.
The easy answer is that I experienced a healing directly from God. All of the evidence in this situation says that this is exactly what happened.
So why, again, would I want to explain away God's miraculously obvious touch on my life in this way? Well . . . I don't. I've had a miracle healing! And it's not yea for me. It's YEA FOR GOD!
Everything he brings or allows into our lives is for His glory, His purpose, and our perfection, which is for His glory.
The condition of my eye leaves it susceptible to tears and other problems. It could happen at any time. God could keep it from happening. I hope He does. But, whatever he does I hope I can allow His will to be done in a way that His glory shines.
Also, about my "bad" eye. My retina specialist thinks he can give me enough vision in that eye to help with balance and equilibrium and such. He's making no promises, but there is hope. Is this what all that was really about? Prayers to be answered soon? . . . Yep. One way or the other, and that to His glory.
If we are going to pray, and ask for prayer, we have to be ready for God to act and to recognize what He has done. It won't always happen the way it happened to me in this instance, but He will always answer a prayer of faith. And whether or not this was the kind of miracle I believe it was or not, last night I went to bed thinking about a problem developing in my eye and whether this was the start of something that might eventually lead to a loss of sight. Tonight I'm praising God that I'm OK for now and that, whatever He sends m way in the future, He loves me . He loves you, too.
I've been wanting a deeper prayer life. He has certainly taken me to another level over the past nineteen or twenty hours.
We may not always recogize them. They are not always obvious. God IS still in the miracle business!
Connected,
Dennis
Do that. Think about that. How often does God's glory take a back seat to mankind's "ability" when it comes to matters of our life here no matter how important or insignificant they may be?
I have experienced this very thing over the past two days. A God-gifted person using God given technology told me yesterday afternoon that a serious issue was taking place in my one "good" eye. The "fix" was fairly easy, somewhat routine, but had to take place right away. So, an appointment was made with a retina specialist to zap me with a laser this morning and repair the tear that she saw in my eye.
This morning Sharon and I show up just a few minutes early to the specialist, the same one who had operated on my other eye three times for three torn retinas some twenty years ago. Due to some other complications, that eye has been no good to me in all these years. I've learned to live with it, but we've been praying for a healing.
Well, the SAME technology that was used by another doctor to find the tear in the first place was used by this doctor to find no such problem in my eye. The tear that was there yesterday was gone today! There is evidence of something else that happened, but no tear. And what did happen is pretty normal for someone my age with the eyes that I have. But, there was no tear! . . . Did I say that there was no tear?
I had not put this information out in a big way last night, but I did ask some people to pray about this. You can draw whatever conclusions you want. I even went to the notion of a misdiagnosis yesterday. Makes sense, doesn't it? But, if I am so ready to explain away the way God obviously worked in this, why would I have even asked for prayer in the first place? The logical answer here is misdiagnosis, but that takes some explaining. It calls for a conclusion that what one doctor said was there actually wasn't there. But, one doctor doesn't send you to another doctor for laser treatment on a whim, or a good guess. They do that on evidence.
The easy answer is that I experienced a healing directly from God. All of the evidence in this situation says that this is exactly what happened.
So why, again, would I want to explain away God's miraculously obvious touch on my life in this way? Well . . . I don't. I've had a miracle healing! And it's not yea for me. It's YEA FOR GOD!
Everything he brings or allows into our lives is for His glory, His purpose, and our perfection, which is for His glory.
The condition of my eye leaves it susceptible to tears and other problems. It could happen at any time. God could keep it from happening. I hope He does. But, whatever he does I hope I can allow His will to be done in a way that His glory shines.
Also, about my "bad" eye. My retina specialist thinks he can give me enough vision in that eye to help with balance and equilibrium and such. He's making no promises, but there is hope. Is this what all that was really about? Prayers to be answered soon? . . . Yep. One way or the other, and that to His glory.
If we are going to pray, and ask for prayer, we have to be ready for God to act and to recognize what He has done. It won't always happen the way it happened to me in this instance, but He will always answer a prayer of faith. And whether or not this was the kind of miracle I believe it was or not, last night I went to bed thinking about a problem developing in my eye and whether this was the start of something that might eventually lead to a loss of sight. Tonight I'm praising God that I'm OK for now and that, whatever He sends m way in the future, He loves me . He loves you, too.
I've been wanting a deeper prayer life. He has certainly taken me to another level over the past nineteen or twenty hours.
We may not always recogize them. They are not always obvious. God IS still in the miracle business!
Connected,
Dennis
Thursday, October 01, 2015
If I Knew That He Knew What I Knew He Knew . . .
If you were in my Sunday School class the other day . . .
BTW, I don't like calling it "my class". I wish we had a name for it so it can be referred to as "the so-and-so class". I'm just not comfortable with "Dennis Manor's class" or "my" class, but they usually are referred to by the teacher's name so I'll go with it for simplicity's sake.
After preparing for the "lesson" (another term that I don't particularly like, but I won't go into that right now) over a 6 day period, I was hit with something that caught me as rather profound. If you were in the class you know that this happened at 1:45 Sunday morning. When I brought it up it came out as something more confounded than profound. I struggled to even pose the question. So, here it is, hopefully, presented in a way that will make some sense.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep." John 10:14-15
When Jesus talks here about knowing His sheep, He speaks of a deep, intimate knowledge. He knows everything about us. He knows us better than we know ourselves and better than anyone who knows us can know us. The term "better" here doesn't even apply. "Better" indicates that there may be even more to know. Simply and absolutely stated, just as "I Am That I Am" applies to God, "I know" applies to Jesus' statement here.
Some of us take our limitless God and we place Him within the limited thinking of our minds and we interact with Him on that limited basis. He wants to give us so much more of Himself than our own thinking allows. Approaching Him with something as if it is news to Him, I think, limits our expectations of Him.
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us," (Ephesians 3:20) calls for us to open our minds to a God who is greater than our minds can possibly conceive, rather than to try to bring Him down to an understandable dimension.
At 1:45 in the morning, it came to me. As many times as I have acknowledged God's total knowledge of me, my life, my past, present, and future, my wants and needs, my dreams, my hurts . . . everything about me, I approach Him in prayer as if I'm informing Him of these things. The worse the problem or the hurt, the greater my own lack of knowledge or understanding, the more "informative" I am. I don't know about you but, in a one-on-one or small group conversation, I don't like to be told something I already know as if I didn't know. This doesn't apply in teaching situations, only conversation. I'm not implying that God is like me in this, but why do we approach our all-knowing God as if He doesn't know?
My question to the class was something like, "Would it affect our prayer life if we approached God in the assurance that He already knows? He simply and completely knows." I'm not sure that my question as stated was even that coherent.
It reminds me of Job in a way. Job knew of God's greatness and he was faithful and true to God in his trial. AND he still had much to learn about God. God's knowledge is unlimited. His power is immeasurable. Nothing surprises Him. He knows what He is doing and He has a plan. He tells us to bring all of our cares and concerns to Him . . . everything. But, this is not so we can tell Him all about it so He can then figure out what to do. It's so we can acknowledge Him in all things. It opens us up to seeking Him in the midst of our trials and troubles as well as our thanks and praises great and small.
We go to God because He knows. We should remember that when we talk to Him about what's going on. He is more than just a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on. Approaching Him as the ONE who knows, who simply and completely knows, should place us in a much better posture to receive the peace that we crave.
"The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philipians 4:5b-7
And with that, I realize that I still cannot fully express my thoughts on this. Maybe it's as simple as He knows. Just remember that. You know?
Connected,
Dennis
PS: Maybe I should just go to bed earlier.
BTW, I don't like calling it "my class". I wish we had a name for it so it can be referred to as "the so-and-so class". I'm just not comfortable with "Dennis Manor's class" or "my" class, but they usually are referred to by the teacher's name so I'll go with it for simplicity's sake.
After preparing for the "lesson" (another term that I don't particularly like, but I won't go into that right now) over a 6 day period, I was hit with something that caught me as rather profound. If you were in the class you know that this happened at 1:45 Sunday morning. When I brought it up it came out as something more confounded than profound. I struggled to even pose the question. So, here it is, hopefully, presented in a way that will make some sense.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep." John 10:14-15
When Jesus talks here about knowing His sheep, He speaks of a deep, intimate knowledge. He knows everything about us. He knows us better than we know ourselves and better than anyone who knows us can know us. The term "better" here doesn't even apply. "Better" indicates that there may be even more to know. Simply and absolutely stated, just as "I Am That I Am" applies to God, "I know" applies to Jesus' statement here.
Some of us take our limitless God and we place Him within the limited thinking of our minds and we interact with Him on that limited basis. He wants to give us so much more of Himself than our own thinking allows. Approaching Him with something as if it is news to Him, I think, limits our expectations of Him.
"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us," (Ephesians 3:20) calls for us to open our minds to a God who is greater than our minds can possibly conceive, rather than to try to bring Him down to an understandable dimension.
At 1:45 in the morning, it came to me. As many times as I have acknowledged God's total knowledge of me, my life, my past, present, and future, my wants and needs, my dreams, my hurts . . . everything about me, I approach Him in prayer as if I'm informing Him of these things. The worse the problem or the hurt, the greater my own lack of knowledge or understanding, the more "informative" I am. I don't know about you but, in a one-on-one or small group conversation, I don't like to be told something I already know as if I didn't know. This doesn't apply in teaching situations, only conversation. I'm not implying that God is like me in this, but why do we approach our all-knowing God as if He doesn't know?
My question to the class was something like, "Would it affect our prayer life if we approached God in the assurance that He already knows? He simply and completely knows." I'm not sure that my question as stated was even that coherent.
It reminds me of Job in a way. Job knew of God's greatness and he was faithful and true to God in his trial. AND he still had much to learn about God. God's knowledge is unlimited. His power is immeasurable. Nothing surprises Him. He knows what He is doing and He has a plan. He tells us to bring all of our cares and concerns to Him . . . everything. But, this is not so we can tell Him all about it so He can then figure out what to do. It's so we can acknowledge Him in all things. It opens us up to seeking Him in the midst of our trials and troubles as well as our thanks and praises great and small.
We go to God because He knows. We should remember that when we talk to Him about what's going on. He is more than just a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on. Approaching Him as the ONE who knows, who simply and completely knows, should place us in a much better posture to receive the peace that we crave.
"The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philipians 4:5b-7
And with that, I realize that I still cannot fully express my thoughts on this. Maybe it's as simple as He knows. Just remember that. You know?
Connected,
Dennis
PS: Maybe I should just go to bed earlier.
Tuesday, September 08, 2015
Miss Something?
I had a talk with my girls the other night. I just wanted them to know how proud of them I am. And how glad I am that they took their own paths in life. Much of it went something like this: (and I only post this because it might be helpful to someone)
"You missed your calling." I get this a lot. Lots of people do. Sometimes it's just a funny thing to say about a certain situation. Sometimes there is truth behind it. I suppose a lot goes into missing a calling. There's not paying attention, actually missing (not hearing) it. Then there are the things you put before your calling and all the various reasons and excuses you can come up with for living a different life than the one you were intended for. There's that "silly dream" thing. Always, there are those pesky obligations that we put before the obligation to live "the" life.
I'm not qualified to say, but I would think there is a peace, a certain satisfaction that comes with living out your God given "calling". If that's you, I applaud you. I don't resent you. I admire you.
Me? I didn't "miss" any calling. I just didn't have it in me to follow it . . . the guts, the brains, the confidence, the trust ... the faith. I daydreamed. I've spent many a lonely, depressed, self-deprecating, kicking myself in the tail kinds of nights. I've also done a lot of brain-storming. I thought "someday" until I realized that someday seems to have come and gone.
There comes a day when everyone of us wakes up . . . actually, it's probably that night, lying in bed staring into the darkness, thinking, and we realize that there are things that will never be, things we will never do that we should have done. Those opportunities and abilities are in our past.
I'm sure everybody has or will have such a list.
I'll tell you what I told my girls: "Missing your calling, failing to follow the heart God gave you, should never be on that list." I hope it's not now and never shows up on their list.
As I have watched them, I realize that God's path for you is not always smooth and easy. It can be tough. There are times when it seems impossible, or impassible. It's the right path, though.
"Life happens". It does. And we so easily become distracted by those things that we think we can or should try to control. But, when God tells us to seek Him with all our heart, it is only because in Him will we find EVERYTHING we should want and need. Direction. Your career, your spouse, your joy, your ministry, your life ... your dream.
Your life, your time, is in God's hands. As long as you are here, He has something for you to do. If it's left undone, it's not because of Him.
So follow your God-given heart. If you've forgotten that you ever had a dream, much less what it was, ask Him to reveal and renew His dream within you. Encourage everyone you know to do the same. And, if you are like me, with more life (years) behind you than ahead of you, quit looking back at all the things that didn't happen, all the things that are not back there. There is more life ahead than we can possibly know. Do what God says and look forward. Look to Him. He has something for you ... something uniquely for you from Him. Stop looking for unseen things behind you and look forward toward those as yet unseen things ahead of you.
It bears saying again: Following the heart God gave you should never be on your list of things that didn't happen.
Connected,
Dennis
"You missed your calling." I get this a lot. Lots of people do. Sometimes it's just a funny thing to say about a certain situation. Sometimes there is truth behind it. I suppose a lot goes into missing a calling. There's not paying attention, actually missing (not hearing) it. Then there are the things you put before your calling and all the various reasons and excuses you can come up with for living a different life than the one you were intended for. There's that "silly dream" thing. Always, there are those pesky obligations that we put before the obligation to live "the" life.
I'm not qualified to say, but I would think there is a peace, a certain satisfaction that comes with living out your God given "calling". If that's you, I applaud you. I don't resent you. I admire you.
Me? I didn't "miss" any calling. I just didn't have it in me to follow it . . . the guts, the brains, the confidence, the trust ... the faith. I daydreamed. I've spent many a lonely, depressed, self-deprecating, kicking myself in the tail kinds of nights. I've also done a lot of brain-storming. I thought "someday" until I realized that someday seems to have come and gone.
There comes a day when everyone of us wakes up . . . actually, it's probably that night, lying in bed staring into the darkness, thinking, and we realize that there are things that will never be, things we will never do that we should have done. Those opportunities and abilities are in our past.
I'm sure everybody has or will have such a list.
I'll tell you what I told my girls: "Missing your calling, failing to follow the heart God gave you, should never be on that list." I hope it's not now and never shows up on their list.
As I have watched them, I realize that God's path for you is not always smooth and easy. It can be tough. There are times when it seems impossible, or impassible. It's the right path, though.
"Life happens". It does. And we so easily become distracted by those things that we think we can or should try to control. But, when God tells us to seek Him with all our heart, it is only because in Him will we find EVERYTHING we should want and need. Direction. Your career, your spouse, your joy, your ministry, your life ... your dream.
Your life, your time, is in God's hands. As long as you are here, He has something for you to do. If it's left undone, it's not because of Him.
So follow your God-given heart. If you've forgotten that you ever had a dream, much less what it was, ask Him to reveal and renew His dream within you. Encourage everyone you know to do the same. And, if you are like me, with more life (years) behind you than ahead of you, quit looking back at all the things that didn't happen, all the things that are not back there. There is more life ahead than we can possibly know. Do what God says and look forward. Look to Him. He has something for you ... something uniquely for you from Him. Stop looking for unseen things behind you and look forward toward those as yet unseen things ahead of you.
It bears saying again: Following the heart God gave you should never be on your list of things that didn't happen.
Connected,
Dennis
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