Even before the song began Carlton Pearson talks about the good old days. He speaks of hard times, and less fortunate ones. He speaks of the saints of old, and those that have persevered for the sake of His name. He reminds us of long ago “testimonial services” where the Holy Spirit led the congregation rather than a weekly bulletin and the agendas of men. He talks of those humbled servants who would receive a song from God through their prayers at the altar, or as he calls it “getting a song hot off the press.” Then Brother Carlton in his semi-deep, soulful, and spiritual voice sings the chorus of the old hymn- "Hold to His hand…….God’s unchanging hand… Hold to His hand…. God’s unchanging hand. You better pin your hopes on things eternal…. hold to God unchanging hand. "
While driving to what turned out to be one the most heart-wrenching scenes that I’ve witnessed with my eyes and ears - a funeral service yesterday afternoon I began to talk to God about this week’s journal “thing”, which He had given me the day before (Saturday morning). I didn’t want to write about another incident of death, and most certainly I didn’t want to attend another funeral. Why do I need to write about this, God? Why do I need to continue to witness, and feel the pain from this area? I cried out to Him “I’m so tired of death, pain, and all of the tears.” It seems that my life has become permanently altered by so many encounters with the deaths of others over the past few months. It started with my friend Jackie Holder last summer, then my aunt Barbara in February, uncle Ken in March - my friend Anna Maria in April– then a fellow I knew who was killed in a work related accident in which our company had connection to again in April. My friend, Nataline’s (who I only know in the spirit) mother, Thelma in May - Jessica’s grandfather, Archie Cima last weekend, and now this… “Enough already God, enough already” cries my heart….
I recently read “Life is never without death – never satisfied until complete – never fulfilled without reaching its destination - for death and life are in a sense one and the same”
Let me ask, if the “word” in your heart said you had only six months to live – what would you do? How would you react? What would become your priorities? Who would become the one you spend the most time with? As I learned all too well in the case of my aunt Barbara so often the case is when you’re told you’ve 3 months or even 6 weeks to live there is a real good chance that your body isn’t going to feel like doing a whole lot during that “shut down” period. I think everyone probably has said at one time or another “If I only had a year to live this is what I would do.” Unfortunately for most though, they’re simply unable to physically do the things that they would like to do during those dying days. I believe the ending of the movie in our own minds is filled with disappointments (to ourselves, not others) because of what we can’t get done before we depart. But what if….. What if we were told this is the time you have left – now go to it! Where would you start?
Not that anyone asked, but here’s what I would do. I would start each day by thanking God for another opportunity to serve Him – another opportunity to be a witness to the gospel. I wouldn’t worry about “stuff” that doesn’t matter in the big picture of things. I would love with all my heart the ones that I love. I wouldn’t struggle to acquire one more single worldly possession – for again it wouldn’t matter in the big picture of things. I would reach out to hug, to hold, to love, to show compassion, to listen, to talk, and to pray for all those that I could. I wouldn’t worry of money, or the lack of money. I would sing His praises all the daylong. I would die a thirsty and hungry soul still longing for Him - His word – His Spirit - His will – His pleasure – His presence – and for His person
Her eyes were richly colored dark brown – her head was decorated with black hair and a few beautiful curls. She had a creamy, caramel like complexion that made her an absolute thing of created beauty. I saw her for the first time when she was only four months old. At three months she had been severely shaken by her earthly father to the point where her brain stem was almost completely separated from the organ it fed. Almost immediately she was given no chance to live by everyone in the medical community. Yet, no one had any idea as to how many lives she would touch in such a short period of time. (For some of us live many decades, yet don’t have the impact for His kingdom that Amya Porter had while here on earth)
The wonderful group of friends I associate with on Sunday nights met at the Children’s Hospital to visit and pray with Amya and her family that night. I’ll never forget the stirring of the Holy Spirit in my heart for this family as I found out the details of what had taken place. Wendy, the mom had been severely beaten by her baby’s father and had to be taken to the emergency room – she had no choice but to leave Amya and her two other children with his mother. He went into his mom’s home and took the baby, and then the abuse and cruelty to her truly began. Sadly, I’ll never forget the frustration I felt from learning on that same night our state agencies were trying to take Wendy’s other children away from her through legal means even while she was at the hospital praying over the life of her precious baby girl.
I’ll also never forget the overwhelming response we saw when the call came to help buy diapers and wipes for Amya after she left the hospital, the couple of times we were fortunate to see her at church with her great- grandparents Larry and Joan, or the heart-felt joy of hearing reports of her development - even if at times it was simply that she had “cooed” the night before. Then her development stopped almost immediately, and she returned to the hospital for the last time a few weeks ago. More progressive damage throughout her body, more fluid seeping into her skull, more holes in her tiny little brain, less hope for recovery, less faith in a miracle, less belief that there was going to be a happy ending to this story. “Don’t bring her back, because there isn’t anything that can be done for her” – was the word from the hospital staff.
Yesterday she was seven months old when she was laid in the ground. She was an absolute vision of God’s beauty. She has touched so many hearts in such a short period of time. She has stirred so many to pray, and to cry out to God that probably may have never done so during this same period of time. After all had been said and done there had been a miracle delivered – and there was a happy ending to the story, which will continue to play out for generations to come in the Porter family. For she lives even today in the hearts of all that came to know her! If only it could be said of our own lives - that we had this type of impact while we were here….
Let me ask you, how long have you been given to live? A single day? Some forty years? Until this November? None of us know! What’s ultimately important isn’t how long - yet how much will we accomplish for Him. How many lives will we touch? How many lost souls can we help lead to the cross? How many will we make smile with a real joy in their hearts? How many lives will be altered by their encounter from seeing the Hope that lives within us?
Then God said unto me, “For death has no grip on you! You have been delivered from your past, from your sins, and from your self. Pin your hopes on things eternal, and live each day as if it is your last, and if I give you a tomorrow, then again.” Holding to His hand…. Doug
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Layers
She only wanted to be considered “one of the guys” but it seemed that it was never to be. She did all the things they did - she went to the same school, hung out at most of the same places, wrote the same stuff they did – but she still wasn’t seen in the same light as her male counterparts. Most women of her time would have cherished the opportunity to have received an education in Oxford yet she was highly perturbed because they did not hand out sheep-skin to women at the time. Eight years later she received her degree, partly because of her involvement in a movement to improve the status of women rights. To be accepted and respected like her colleagues of the other gender was not only a strong motivator for her, but it also became a major distraction of sorts from making the right choices at times.
She was involved in several intensely romantic relationships but only married after the ripe old age of forty. She secretly bore an illegitimate son, “Tony” from a romantic fling with car salesman Bill White in 1924, which she quietly gave away to an orphanage house ran by her aunt and cousin out of fear that caring for him would only distract her from her attempt to be seen on the same playing field as the fellows she hung out with. Who were the dudes that she clung to? They were the likes of C.L. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.K. Chesterton, and Charles White. Some of her friends were known members of the literary group called the “Inklings” (or as I call them the Rabbit Room bunch) yet most everyone else knows them simply as the most revered group of British writers ever. She was always consumed with concern as to what they thought of her.
To secretly rid one’s life of her only child for the sake of being considered equal to others – makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Some only know Dorothy Sayers as the foremost female writer in England’s history, but over the years I’ve come to see her as merely just another person with lots and lots of un-revealed layers.
This past Sunday I had the opportunity to share my worship experience with Rev. Scott Christmas and the fine folks at Grace Community Church in Jacksonville, Florida. Unfortunately Christmas was on vacation this Christmas and I didn’t have the opportunity to hear him deliver a message about the first Christmas experience – but who knows, maybe next time. Footnote: I found that the kids in the Sanderson family have an unbelievable amount of musical talent to share with the world. What a joyful experience to hear them play their instruments for the glory of the Lord!
If you know much about the inter-workings of my pea-size brain you know that I’m always intrigued by “layers.” Whether it is with movies, stories, books, people, sermons - whatever it is, it needs to have evidence of layers to peak my interest. I don’t like stories that have a simple and basic plot with no added layers to it either. While I’m at it, I most certainly don’t like movies just because they have some new catchy twist and turn or strange ending – I like those that encompass several layers of meanings, and deal with multiple issues within the story line. Any flick is only interesting to me if there are underlying stories that relate to things such as relationships, social issues, theology, etc, etc. Believe it or not, there are movies out there that cover such a wide-scope of intrigue, but unfortunately they are few and far between. I guess that’s why I’ve visited so few movie houses over the years.
I like, no I crave to hear sermons from “real” preachers that are also “real” people. The ones that are willing to allow the congregation see what they look like underneath the layers of pretentiousness that all of our lives come dressed with. I heard a pastor just recently admit from his pulpit that the “earthly man” took control over one afternoon and he actually flipped off another motorist in traffic. Now I personally didn’t think he needed to reveal this in order to get across the point in his sermon, but man did that ever make an impression on me. It sounds simple doesn’t it – it sounds silly, but how many times have you heard a minister admitting to giving someone the finger lately? I can’t remember any.
Over the past year I’ve heard some “real” pastors talk of things such as running red lights, or wanting an alcoholic drink some days. Thoughts of strangling their kids (in fun I think) and even secretly wanting a divorce from their wives at times. Layers, peeling off layers in front of other folks with little or no regard for the judgmental attitudes that most certainly accompanies such public revelation. Layers that need to be removed regardless of the damage the process does to the vision others have of us.
It’s kind of like undressing in front of someone for the first time – you just hope that your underwear doesn’t have holes in them, and your feet don’t stink too badly. You suck in your stomach, hold out your chest, and stand as tall as possible to make it look as if your weight and height is actually in proportion. You’re willing to let them see you naked - but only if somehow you’re able to look the best naked you can possibly muster up.
The more you undress in front of that person the more comfortable you get with them seeing you naked. Sometimes it can get too comfortable and it reaches a point where they have to ask you “Hey, why don’t you put some clothes on every now and then?” Now, that will make you feel uncomfortable as well.
We all know that peeling off layers in front of family and close friends is much easier, (not easy, but easier) than with total strangers, but what we don’t want disclosed most about ourselves is exactly what Christ says we need to shed in order to become more like him. Laying it all down, so the Father can make all things new again inside of us. Some look to Him to peel off the layers, yet I think that really all He does is allow the Holy Spirit to move within us in a way that convicts us of our efforts to hide and to hang onto the things that are distracting us from the intimate relationship He longs for us to have with Him. The choice to peel, and to continue to peel is all ours.
With Dorothy Sayers it was all about being seen as equal in value to her male friends – with us it’s supposed to be all about being humble servants and heirs to a glorious kingdom. In my opinion, what stood in her way of becoming the person she really wanted had nothing to do with her gender yet it was her reluctance to peel away the deepest layers that would have allowed others to see the real person that she was. I think what often stands in our way is the concern we have for what others will think about us if they are able to see the “real” us.
Peeling off the layers of our disguises and pretentiousness is like peeling back an onion – it most definitely has the potential to bring tears to your eyes. Today is an opportunity to remove yet another layer of ourselves in front of others, in order that it will not only help us to become more humble but maybe, just maybe it’ll also help the person we’re willing to undress in front of.
Not yet totally naked, doug
She was involved in several intensely romantic relationships but only married after the ripe old age of forty. She secretly bore an illegitimate son, “Tony” from a romantic fling with car salesman Bill White in 1924, which she quietly gave away to an orphanage house ran by her aunt and cousin out of fear that caring for him would only distract her from her attempt to be seen on the same playing field as the fellows she hung out with. Who were the dudes that she clung to? They were the likes of C.L. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.K. Chesterton, and Charles White. Some of her friends were known members of the literary group called the “Inklings” (or as I call them the Rabbit Room bunch) yet most everyone else knows them simply as the most revered group of British writers ever. She was always consumed with concern as to what they thought of her.
To secretly rid one’s life of her only child for the sake of being considered equal to others – makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Some only know Dorothy Sayers as the foremost female writer in England’s history, but over the years I’ve come to see her as merely just another person with lots and lots of un-revealed layers.
This past Sunday I had the opportunity to share my worship experience with Rev. Scott Christmas and the fine folks at Grace Community Church in Jacksonville, Florida. Unfortunately Christmas was on vacation this Christmas and I didn’t have the opportunity to hear him deliver a message about the first Christmas experience – but who knows, maybe next time. Footnote: I found that the kids in the Sanderson family have an unbelievable amount of musical talent to share with the world. What a joyful experience to hear them play their instruments for the glory of the Lord!
If you know much about the inter-workings of my pea-size brain you know that I’m always intrigued by “layers.” Whether it is with movies, stories, books, people, sermons - whatever it is, it needs to have evidence of layers to peak my interest. I don’t like stories that have a simple and basic plot with no added layers to it either. While I’m at it, I most certainly don’t like movies just because they have some new catchy twist and turn or strange ending – I like those that encompass several layers of meanings, and deal with multiple issues within the story line. Any flick is only interesting to me if there are underlying stories that relate to things such as relationships, social issues, theology, etc, etc. Believe it or not, there are movies out there that cover such a wide-scope of intrigue, but unfortunately they are few and far between. I guess that’s why I’ve visited so few movie houses over the years.
I like, no I crave to hear sermons from “real” preachers that are also “real” people. The ones that are willing to allow the congregation see what they look like underneath the layers of pretentiousness that all of our lives come dressed with. I heard a pastor just recently admit from his pulpit that the “earthly man” took control over one afternoon and he actually flipped off another motorist in traffic. Now I personally didn’t think he needed to reveal this in order to get across the point in his sermon, but man did that ever make an impression on me. It sounds simple doesn’t it – it sounds silly, but how many times have you heard a minister admitting to giving someone the finger lately? I can’t remember any.
Over the past year I’ve heard some “real” pastors talk of things such as running red lights, or wanting an alcoholic drink some days. Thoughts of strangling their kids (in fun I think) and even secretly wanting a divorce from their wives at times. Layers, peeling off layers in front of other folks with little or no regard for the judgmental attitudes that most certainly accompanies such public revelation. Layers that need to be removed regardless of the damage the process does to the vision others have of us.
It’s kind of like undressing in front of someone for the first time – you just hope that your underwear doesn’t have holes in them, and your feet don’t stink too badly. You suck in your stomach, hold out your chest, and stand as tall as possible to make it look as if your weight and height is actually in proportion. You’re willing to let them see you naked - but only if somehow you’re able to look the best naked you can possibly muster up.
The more you undress in front of that person the more comfortable you get with them seeing you naked. Sometimes it can get too comfortable and it reaches a point where they have to ask you “Hey, why don’t you put some clothes on every now and then?” Now, that will make you feel uncomfortable as well.
We all know that peeling off layers in front of family and close friends is much easier, (not easy, but easier) than with total strangers, but what we don’t want disclosed most about ourselves is exactly what Christ says we need to shed in order to become more like him. Laying it all down, so the Father can make all things new again inside of us. Some look to Him to peel off the layers, yet I think that really all He does is allow the Holy Spirit to move within us in a way that convicts us of our efforts to hide and to hang onto the things that are distracting us from the intimate relationship He longs for us to have with Him. The choice to peel, and to continue to peel is all ours.
With Dorothy Sayers it was all about being seen as equal in value to her male friends – with us it’s supposed to be all about being humble servants and heirs to a glorious kingdom. In my opinion, what stood in her way of becoming the person she really wanted had nothing to do with her gender yet it was her reluctance to peel away the deepest layers that would have allowed others to see the real person that she was. I think what often stands in our way is the concern we have for what others will think about us if they are able to see the “real” us.
Peeling off the layers of our disguises and pretentiousness is like peeling back an onion – it most definitely has the potential to bring tears to your eyes. Today is an opportunity to remove yet another layer of ourselves in front of others, in order that it will not only help us to become more humble but maybe, just maybe it’ll also help the person we’re willing to undress in front of.
Not yet totally naked, doug
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
fear vs hope
...And I've looked over, and I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land. So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man.
Most of us know that this quote belongs to Dr Martin Luther King Jr. but how many of us remember that he made this statement the very day before his assassination? There were many threats on his life day after day - year after year leading up to that point of destiny forty years ago on the balcony of his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. Yet, Reverend King didn’t allow fear to dictate any variance in his commitment to his calling as he continued to live and eventually die in a life filled to the brim with hope. I believe he understood more than most of us that there was most certainly a reason the Bible includes over 2,000 reminders of the importance in our role to care for the poor, the less fortunate, the outcast, and the afflicted.
I remember the days immediately following his killing and the overwhelming amount of fear that spread across our nation. Even as a snotty-nose ten year old I wondered what the response would be from the black community. We were warned of possible retaliation from the militant groups that were known to extend their civil rights demonstration efforts to include violence, which as we all know was in complete opposition to Dr. King’s position. After dusk during those years the rule was that we kids had to stay within the confines of our front yard if we wanted to stay outside and play until bath time. When cars approached with their head lights glaring my sisters and I would duck for cover behind the hedges near the porch in the event it was a machine gun wielding drive-by assassin from a group we had been told were called the Black Panthers. Despite growing up many miles from the racially contentious areas of the country we lived and played in fear of something we had very little understanding of during that spring/summer. Fear played a big role in the lives of many during those times - these times.
Later on in my adult life I had the opportunity to live in cities such as Memphis, Birmingham, Houston, and Atlanta which all still have powerful ties to the era of our nation’s not-so-proud past when it comes to the Civil Rights movement. Through the experiences and friendships I made in those cities I came to understand more fully that Martin Luther King didn’t just represent the views and welfare of people of color, yet he represented the inherent rights, fair treatment, as well as the hopes and dreams of each and every member of the human race. Sadly as it is to say, there are still many people even today that don’t understand, or acknowledge that fact. What Rev. King desired could be deemed true equality for all. More importantly we have the teachings of Christ which stand to remind us that we were all created as equals through the workmanship and predetermined plan of the one and only creator of the universe.
We all know that we shouldn’t live in fear of any man - yet for some of us a constant fear is what we have stashed away in the depths of our pocket-full of internal possessions, isn’t it? We fear other’s opinions, criticism, authority, control, presence, rejections, and for some of us we even fear the love of others. We fear the unknown much greater than the known. We fear the return of our past as well as projected events of our future. We become so caught up in worry and concern for things that we have little to no control over and these are given birth by the fear that resides within us.
Despite being able to easily read in the Bible that we as “believers” have been delivered from a Spirit of fear, yet in our hearts and minds we still can’t seem to shake it. The fullness of the potential we have for a complete version of hope is always kept in check by the fear that often controls us.
As I was digging through the many piles of stuff I have laying around I ran across a piece of paper where I scribbled some notes as I watched a public television program a few years ago. The guest speaker on the talk show was a fellow named Bobby Seale. Some of you may know him as one of the founding fathers of the group called the Black Panthers. Mr. Seale was recounting the early functions and activities of their group, as well as the vastly different personalities of its early leadership group such as the likes of Steven Shames, Eldridge Cleaver, and Huey Newton. (I can’t promise that any of these names are spelled correctly, so if you feel the need - write back and correct me.) Anyway, the point I’m making is that unknowingly to me (and probably a lot of other folks) the Black Panthers main involvement as an organization began as a means to help broaden the testing and awareness of the issues involved with the disease we know as “sickle-cell” (the leading cause of death in African-Americans at the time).
They also implemented a very effective children’s pre-school breakfast program in many of the poverty stricken minority communities well before any of the government agencies got on the band wagon. They also focused extensively on getting minorities registered to vote throughout the country at a time when very few had ever exercised their right to do so - because of (you guessed it) fear.
One of the best quotes that I noted from that show goes as follows; “We, the African-American community need to quit looking for the next Martin Luther King to appear on our horizon. We are long past the days when a single person can represent the diverse views of our people. We have leaders in ever genre of business, religion, education, politics, and society as a whole. We need to start reevaluating ourselves for what we can do for ourselves, and not what others can do for us.” Fear can most certainly be replaced with hope when such a calling as this is heeded.
I want to close this journal item with something that a very young, yet brilliant student of Harvard University wrote during the same era that Dr. King lived, marched, preached, and served others, its entitled The Paradoxical Commandments. I can hear this being said in Rev. King's voice.
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good deeds you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good deeds anyway.
Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs, but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help, but may attack you if you try.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have to offer and you get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
Anyway - Kent M. Keith
I’m offering this item today in celebration of the dream that was extended through the life of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. For within the wisdom of a youthful Kent Keith we find the resounding attitude that by doing the right thing (regardless of what others think, say, or do to us) we will move closer to what God has in mind for us.
I’m learning more each day that hope will only truly overcome fear through the strength we gain by our knowledge of His word and by having complete faith that He has delivered us from a fearful existence, which Dr King so boldly declared on April 3, 1968. Doug
Most of us know that this quote belongs to Dr Martin Luther King Jr. but how many of us remember that he made this statement the very day before his assassination? There were many threats on his life day after day - year after year leading up to that point of destiny forty years ago on the balcony of his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. Yet, Reverend King didn’t allow fear to dictate any variance in his commitment to his calling as he continued to live and eventually die in a life filled to the brim with hope. I believe he understood more than most of us that there was most certainly a reason the Bible includes over 2,000 reminders of the importance in our role to care for the poor, the less fortunate, the outcast, and the afflicted.
I remember the days immediately following his killing and the overwhelming amount of fear that spread across our nation. Even as a snotty-nose ten year old I wondered what the response would be from the black community. We were warned of possible retaliation from the militant groups that were known to extend their civil rights demonstration efforts to include violence, which as we all know was in complete opposition to Dr. King’s position. After dusk during those years the rule was that we kids had to stay within the confines of our front yard if we wanted to stay outside and play until bath time. When cars approached with their head lights glaring my sisters and I would duck for cover behind the hedges near the porch in the event it was a machine gun wielding drive-by assassin from a group we had been told were called the Black Panthers. Despite growing up many miles from the racially contentious areas of the country we lived and played in fear of something we had very little understanding of during that spring/summer. Fear played a big role in the lives of many during those times - these times.
Later on in my adult life I had the opportunity to live in cities such as Memphis, Birmingham, Houston, and Atlanta which all still have powerful ties to the era of our nation’s not-so-proud past when it comes to the Civil Rights movement. Through the experiences and friendships I made in those cities I came to understand more fully that Martin Luther King didn’t just represent the views and welfare of people of color, yet he represented the inherent rights, fair treatment, as well as the hopes and dreams of each and every member of the human race. Sadly as it is to say, there are still many people even today that don’t understand, or acknowledge that fact. What Rev. King desired could be deemed true equality for all. More importantly we have the teachings of Christ which stand to remind us that we were all created as equals through the workmanship and predetermined plan of the one and only creator of the universe.
We all know that we shouldn’t live in fear of any man - yet for some of us a constant fear is what we have stashed away in the depths of our pocket-full of internal possessions, isn’t it? We fear other’s opinions, criticism, authority, control, presence, rejections, and for some of us we even fear the love of others. We fear the unknown much greater than the known. We fear the return of our past as well as projected events of our future. We become so caught up in worry and concern for things that we have little to no control over and these are given birth by the fear that resides within us.
Despite being able to easily read in the Bible that we as “believers” have been delivered from a Spirit of fear, yet in our hearts and minds we still can’t seem to shake it. The fullness of the potential we have for a complete version of hope is always kept in check by the fear that often controls us.
As I was digging through the many piles of stuff I have laying around I ran across a piece of paper where I scribbled some notes as I watched a public television program a few years ago. The guest speaker on the talk show was a fellow named Bobby Seale. Some of you may know him as one of the founding fathers of the group called the Black Panthers. Mr. Seale was recounting the early functions and activities of their group, as well as the vastly different personalities of its early leadership group such as the likes of Steven Shames, Eldridge Cleaver, and Huey Newton. (I can’t promise that any of these names are spelled correctly, so if you feel the need - write back and correct me.) Anyway, the point I’m making is that unknowingly to me (and probably a lot of other folks) the Black Panthers main involvement as an organization began as a means to help broaden the testing and awareness of the issues involved with the disease we know as “sickle-cell” (the leading cause of death in African-Americans at the time).
They also implemented a very effective children’s pre-school breakfast program in many of the poverty stricken minority communities well before any of the government agencies got on the band wagon. They also focused extensively on getting minorities registered to vote throughout the country at a time when very few had ever exercised their right to do so - because of (you guessed it) fear.
One of the best quotes that I noted from that show goes as follows; “We, the African-American community need to quit looking for the next Martin Luther King to appear on our horizon. We are long past the days when a single person can represent the diverse views of our people. We have leaders in ever genre of business, religion, education, politics, and society as a whole. We need to start reevaluating ourselves for what we can do for ourselves, and not what others can do for us.” Fear can most certainly be replaced with hope when such a calling as this is heeded.
I want to close this journal item with something that a very young, yet brilliant student of Harvard University wrote during the same era that Dr. King lived, marched, preached, and served others, its entitled The Paradoxical Commandments. I can hear this being said in Rev. King's voice.
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good deeds you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good deeds anyway.
Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs, but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help, but may attack you if you try.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have to offer and you get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
Anyway - Kent M. Keith
I’m offering this item today in celebration of the dream that was extended through the life of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. For within the wisdom of a youthful Kent Keith we find the resounding attitude that by doing the right thing (regardless of what others think, say, or do to us) we will move closer to what God has in mind for us.
I’m learning more each day that hope will only truly overcome fear through the strength we gain by our knowledge of His word and by having complete faith that He has delivered us from a fearful existence, which Dr King so boldly declared on April 3, 1968. Doug
Sunday, January 18, 2009
new again
Whatever happens –
whatever you see –
whatever your eyes tell you has become of me –
This is not, not the end –
I am making all things new again.
These lyrics come from the song “New Again” most notably performed by Sara Evans and Brad Paisley which along with video clips from the movie “The Passion” make an awesome statement about God’s grace and sovereignty. I know that I probably get on my co-workers nerves after about the eighteenth consecutive time of playing it on my computer – but I just don’t seem to be compelled to stop it or even turn down the volume very often. Whatever happens……
As I listened intently while Pastor Mike delivered a sermon about the difference between wheat and tares from the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew Sunday evening I considered the process of the harvest that Jesus describes later as he explains the parable to his disciples. The weeds or tare (as some call it) couldn’t be separated during the growth period of the plants for the danger of destroying the good grain in the process – so it was allowed to grow alongside the wheat throughout the season. During the harvest the tares (the useless plants) were separated and gathered aside from the useful wheat and then burned in the fields. I’m sure this is a very familiar scripture for everyone that is reading this, but it is a great reminder of a very important truth.
I think all too often in my past I’ve seen myself living the life of a tare, yet I’ve longed in my heart to be wheat. I’ve chosen to spend the great majority of my days around wheat-like people – moral people – people with good character and this has proven to be a very wise choice, no doubt! I’ve wanted to be a “better” person as far back as I can remember. Never satisfied, and often embarrassed of the person that I’ve been at times. Sometimes looking for a rock to crawl under, and often hoping with all hope that no one would find out just how vile my thoughts were.
I, like so many others have spent a great portion of my life trying to find a way to become the useful wheat that we’re designed to be. I’ve searched for this elusive way of life in so many areas, in so many forms, in so many relationships, with so much effort - yet I’ve always come short of reaching that goal. I remember thinking “Why can’t I find a way to make myself the person that I want to be?” “Why can’t I find a way to become who I am supposed to be?” Oh yeah, I don’t have that ability, do I?
Virginia Coleman is in her early eighties and for most of her life she’s resided in the Miami, Florida area fulfilling her role as useful wheat while also attending Pastor Rick Blackwood’s Christ’s Fellowship Church. That was until last February when she was attacked by intruders in her own home after she returned from a Sunday evening service.
Up until that point others have always considered Virginia a very independent woman. She lived alone and was still very capable of driving herself to all of the same places you and I go from time to time. She was merely carrying on with the same way of life she had maintained for years. This was just the way you’re supposed to live I can speculate her thinking - but on this day she was found laying in the floor of her home, completely helpless, and nearly beaten to death. Why?
She posed no physical threat to anyone - she sought to harm no one. All she wanted to do was to continue serving God throughout her days. As it was said about David in the book of Acts; he served God’s purpose during his generation, and then he died. That sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it, yet those that prey on the weak and the vulnerable decided they didn’t agree with that mindset of peace and purpose.
They broke into her home, stole her belongings, and then tried to snuff out the humble life that she was holding on to. They drove away in her car, leaving her to die a brutal and underserved death. How senseless a crime - how senseless an act of cowardliness! On this day the hands on the clock all but came to a stop for one Virginia Coleman.
Arriving from the airport after an emergency flight from Tennessee my friend Tom found that broken bones, and numerous internal injuries (which included both brain and skull damage) consumed the frail framework of his mother. Her death looked nearly complete when he gazed upon her motionless body in the intensive care center. A death she didn’t deserve, and surly wasn’t ready for – she was clearly still a very useful grain of wheat in her heart – which is all that she wanted to be considered at this point in her life. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone - she simply wanted to still be useful.
Immediately prayers went up throughout the country for God’s will to be done in the situation.
Whatever happens –
whatever you see –
whatever your eyes tell you has become of me –
This is not, not the end –
I am making all things new again.
Since that day there have been numerous surgeries, including the need for physicians to drill several holes into her skull to release the pressure of her swollen brain, and the buildup of fluids – which left her comatose.
Progress was slow to follow though as for after many months of follow up procedures and therapy (which obviously still continues today) we’ve been reminded once again through Virginia’s circumstance that God, and God alone decides when our time is up.
I told Tom that I have never been so proud to call someone “friend” than when I watched and read the news reports from south Florida this past February where he and his mom both made it clear to everyone they had already forgiven the person(s) involved, and were praying God would be able to reach them, and turn their lives around.
No hatred, no blame, no desire for revenge – only compassion. Whew, now that’s something we could all use a little more of on a daily basis, and not just at times of crisis as this. That is a true Christ-like love so many never experience in their own hearts, and just as importantly never find a way to extend to others - friends and attackers alike!
Many months have passed since that day and Virginia’s life has been a mere shadow of its former self during this time. She has spent the majority of this time either in the hospital, a nursing home, or bed ridden at Tom and Pam’s home here in east Tennessee. Far removed from her home, her friends, and her weekly church services – far from a proud independent existence to a life of total dependency, what a drastic change for Mrs.Virginia Coleman.
Her life has been altered completely by the hands of others yet there is still love in her heart, a true love for others and a deep-seeded faith that hasn’t been shattered like her frail, humanly body. Amazingly, she continues to progress and as of today she has returned to Miami to live out her days as a useful grain of wheat firmly standing its ground in the farmer’s field – never to be overtaken by the tares that the enemy has planted.
As I was saying earlier, we can't change ourselves from tare to wheat. Only through the sacrafice that God made for us on the cross can we be made new again. We spend way too much time, or at least I know I have, trying to "fix" ourselves. We can't be fixed, we must be transformed. Transformed through His blood, His mercy, His forgiveness, His grace into a new creature.
New again….. Isn’t He amazing! doug
whatever you see –
whatever your eyes tell you has become of me –
This is not, not the end –
I am making all things new again.
These lyrics come from the song “New Again” most notably performed by Sara Evans and Brad Paisley which along with video clips from the movie “The Passion” make an awesome statement about God’s grace and sovereignty. I know that I probably get on my co-workers nerves after about the eighteenth consecutive time of playing it on my computer – but I just don’t seem to be compelled to stop it or even turn down the volume very often. Whatever happens……
As I listened intently while Pastor Mike delivered a sermon about the difference between wheat and tares from the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew Sunday evening I considered the process of the harvest that Jesus describes later as he explains the parable to his disciples. The weeds or tare (as some call it) couldn’t be separated during the growth period of the plants for the danger of destroying the good grain in the process – so it was allowed to grow alongside the wheat throughout the season. During the harvest the tares (the useless plants) were separated and gathered aside from the useful wheat and then burned in the fields. I’m sure this is a very familiar scripture for everyone that is reading this, but it is a great reminder of a very important truth.
I think all too often in my past I’ve seen myself living the life of a tare, yet I’ve longed in my heart to be wheat. I’ve chosen to spend the great majority of my days around wheat-like people – moral people – people with good character and this has proven to be a very wise choice, no doubt! I’ve wanted to be a “better” person as far back as I can remember. Never satisfied, and often embarrassed of the person that I’ve been at times. Sometimes looking for a rock to crawl under, and often hoping with all hope that no one would find out just how vile my thoughts were.
I, like so many others have spent a great portion of my life trying to find a way to become the useful wheat that we’re designed to be. I’ve searched for this elusive way of life in so many areas, in so many forms, in so many relationships, with so much effort - yet I’ve always come short of reaching that goal. I remember thinking “Why can’t I find a way to make myself the person that I want to be?” “Why can’t I find a way to become who I am supposed to be?” Oh yeah, I don’t have that ability, do I?
Virginia Coleman is in her early eighties and for most of her life she’s resided in the Miami, Florida area fulfilling her role as useful wheat while also attending Pastor Rick Blackwood’s Christ’s Fellowship Church. That was until last February when she was attacked by intruders in her own home after she returned from a Sunday evening service.
Up until that point others have always considered Virginia a very independent woman. She lived alone and was still very capable of driving herself to all of the same places you and I go from time to time. She was merely carrying on with the same way of life she had maintained for years. This was just the way you’re supposed to live I can speculate her thinking - but on this day she was found laying in the floor of her home, completely helpless, and nearly beaten to death. Why?
She posed no physical threat to anyone - she sought to harm no one. All she wanted to do was to continue serving God throughout her days. As it was said about David in the book of Acts; he served God’s purpose during his generation, and then he died. That sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it, yet those that prey on the weak and the vulnerable decided they didn’t agree with that mindset of peace and purpose.
They broke into her home, stole her belongings, and then tried to snuff out the humble life that she was holding on to. They drove away in her car, leaving her to die a brutal and underserved death. How senseless a crime - how senseless an act of cowardliness! On this day the hands on the clock all but came to a stop for one Virginia Coleman.
Arriving from the airport after an emergency flight from Tennessee my friend Tom found that broken bones, and numerous internal injuries (which included both brain and skull damage) consumed the frail framework of his mother. Her death looked nearly complete when he gazed upon her motionless body in the intensive care center. A death she didn’t deserve, and surly wasn’t ready for – she was clearly still a very useful grain of wheat in her heart – which is all that she wanted to be considered at this point in her life. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone - she simply wanted to still be useful.
Immediately prayers went up throughout the country for God’s will to be done in the situation.
Whatever happens –
whatever you see –
whatever your eyes tell you has become of me –
This is not, not the end –
I am making all things new again.
Since that day there have been numerous surgeries, including the need for physicians to drill several holes into her skull to release the pressure of her swollen brain, and the buildup of fluids – which left her comatose.
Progress was slow to follow though as for after many months of follow up procedures and therapy (which obviously still continues today) we’ve been reminded once again through Virginia’s circumstance that God, and God alone decides when our time is up.
I told Tom that I have never been so proud to call someone “friend” than when I watched and read the news reports from south Florida this past February where he and his mom both made it clear to everyone they had already forgiven the person(s) involved, and were praying God would be able to reach them, and turn their lives around.
No hatred, no blame, no desire for revenge – only compassion. Whew, now that’s something we could all use a little more of on a daily basis, and not just at times of crisis as this. That is a true Christ-like love so many never experience in their own hearts, and just as importantly never find a way to extend to others - friends and attackers alike!
Many months have passed since that day and Virginia’s life has been a mere shadow of its former self during this time. She has spent the majority of this time either in the hospital, a nursing home, or bed ridden at Tom and Pam’s home here in east Tennessee. Far removed from her home, her friends, and her weekly church services – far from a proud independent existence to a life of total dependency, what a drastic change for Mrs.Virginia Coleman.
Her life has been altered completely by the hands of others yet there is still love in her heart, a true love for others and a deep-seeded faith that hasn’t been shattered like her frail, humanly body. Amazingly, she continues to progress and as of today she has returned to Miami to live out her days as a useful grain of wheat firmly standing its ground in the farmer’s field – never to be overtaken by the tares that the enemy has planted.
As I was saying earlier, we can't change ourselves from tare to wheat. Only through the sacrafice that God made for us on the cross can we be made new again. We spend way too much time, or at least I know I have, trying to "fix" ourselves. We can't be fixed, we must be transformed. Transformed through His blood, His mercy, His forgiveness, His grace into a new creature.
New again….. Isn’t He amazing! doug
Friday, January 9, 2009
Holding on
Let go! “Just let go, and you’ll be ok” I screamed, but even in a crisis situation I felt really uncomfortable yelling at an eighty-something year old woman like that. There’s something to be said about “good raisings” I guess. “Please let go, I promise I’ll catch you!” Mrs. Kennedy was confused, she was hurt, she was disoriented, but most of all she was afraid – very afraid. Holding on for dear life was all she had left.
The problem was, what she was holding on to was sinking, and sinking fast I might add. To be exact, she was holding onto an eighty foot cabin-cruiser with half of its rear-section blown apart from an explosion in the engine compartment mere minutes earlier. What I was trying to get her to take hold of, was my hand, my bass boat, what small bit of safety I had to offer her. What she was holding on to also held her husband Leroy (of almost sixty years) and this is what she was really afraid to let go of - a lifetime, more so than a life.
Again, the problem was, what she was holding onto was sinking quickly beneath her feet.
I knew if I had any chance of saving her husband before it was too late she was going to have to let go of the deck rail she had a death grip of, and fall down into my arms for me to catch her. Finally she did, and I did. I convinced her (after about three attempts) to stay put in my boat, as I went for Leroy. She was confused, and frantic, but I found her loving husband to be even more so - after the deafening explosion he wasn’t sure what to do except to try and save his beautiful bride, and then himself. He immediately tried to radio for help, and then went underneath the deck and into the cabin to retrieve a couple of life-jackets for them.
Leroy was 84 years old at the time, all six foot two, and two hundred and fifty pounds of him. Throw in a bunch of soaking wet clothes and he was a “hand full” to say the least. The fact that he had somehow managed to get his life-jacket on while still holding on to her vest presented a whole new set of issues to deal with. As you can imagine the cabin section of the boat was filling quickly with the cold water of Old Hickory Lake and the flotation of the life jackets was causing the elderly Mr. Kennedy to become pinned against its roof yet he refused to let go of her life jacket, even unto the point where he lost consciousness.
Their boat had sunk more than ten feet since my arrival, and I was now standing in ankle deep water. Somehow I was able to break out the three panes of glass in the boat’s front windows and then finally two Samaritans swam over and helped me pry the water-logged body from the grips of death that held a temporary hold of it. We managed to roll him over and into my boat as the deck of the cabin-cruiser went beneath the surface. I quickly loosened the rope between the two boats before we were all dragged to the bottom of this greedy lake, and off we headed for the Marina.
Holding on to life was Mrs. Kennedy as she also held her husband’s head in her lap as I held on to his wrist as I checked for a pulse while steering my boat toward safety. What started out as an opportunity to continue holding on to the peace and serenity of a day on the lake before winterizing our vessels became an afternoon where we found ourselves merely holding on to each other, and the situation we had before us.
You know, the one thing I’ve found I do more often than I should is I hang on to things that just aren’t good for me. Like eating the wrong foods, drinking the wrong stuff, thinking the wrong thoughts. Hanging out with the wrong groups of people, or any of the other many bad habits I’ve experimented with from time to time in my life. Sometimes what I find is I’m voluntarily holding on to the very things that hold me back from being where I need to be with my life - where God wants me to be.
There’s always a sense of security in holding on to something since we already know the risks/rewards involved, and the level of commitment that is expected from us. And there’s always a certain amount of fear in reaching out for something new or different. This is so true in many aspects of our lives; with relationships, jobs, homes, even automobiles, where we go to church, how we teach our children, and yes most certainly in how we see ourselves. There are so many things we find to hold onto in our past, and present that sometimes our hands become so full we can’t hold on to the “right things” tight enough, and we simply lose our grip.
Holding on to things such as absolute truth, conviction, values, and principles are all things that get tested at times, and either our grips are made weaker or stronger because of these challenges. I now understand that simply because someone else is holding on tightly to a sinking ship, doesn’t make it something I should hold on to also. Yet so often we revert to that way of thinking, we get caught up in trying to mirror our lives in many ways to the lives of our parents, grandparents, friends, fellow church-goers.
I’ve found FEAR will almost always cause us to be hesitant to let go of what we even understand to be wrong for us. “Fear” as in the lack of courage to trust God, and have faith that He is in total control of all things both here on earth as well as in heaven - the kind of “fear” that can only be conquered by God’s love, and direction through His word.
Mrs. Kennedy finally let go, and let God rescue her, for I was merely the bodily form He used to catch her. Mr. Kennedy finally let go of the hand of death he was holding on to, and recovered from this accident. Unfortunately, it took me many more years to let go of so many of the fearful thoughts, and selfish ways I had been holding on to for so long – yet we all three were saved in a very real way.
Holding on sometimes can be the one thing that actually holds us back from allowing His purpose to be fulfilled in our lives. Ask yourself, is there something in your past you’re holding on to even today that you know you need to let go of? If the truth were told - we all have those things in our lives. If the truth were told - we all live with some unhealthy amount of fear about letting go of the things we've held on to for far too long.
Let go! “Just let go, and you’ll be ok” He calls out to us, “Please let go, I promise I’ll catch you.”
doug
The problem was, what she was holding on to was sinking, and sinking fast I might add. To be exact, she was holding onto an eighty foot cabin-cruiser with half of its rear-section blown apart from an explosion in the engine compartment mere minutes earlier. What I was trying to get her to take hold of, was my hand, my bass boat, what small bit of safety I had to offer her. What she was holding on to also held her husband Leroy (of almost sixty years) and this is what she was really afraid to let go of - a lifetime, more so than a life.
Again, the problem was, what she was holding onto was sinking quickly beneath her feet.
I knew if I had any chance of saving her husband before it was too late she was going to have to let go of the deck rail she had a death grip of, and fall down into my arms for me to catch her. Finally she did, and I did. I convinced her (after about three attempts) to stay put in my boat, as I went for Leroy. She was confused, and frantic, but I found her loving husband to be even more so - after the deafening explosion he wasn’t sure what to do except to try and save his beautiful bride, and then himself. He immediately tried to radio for help, and then went underneath the deck and into the cabin to retrieve a couple of life-jackets for them.
Leroy was 84 years old at the time, all six foot two, and two hundred and fifty pounds of him. Throw in a bunch of soaking wet clothes and he was a “hand full” to say the least. The fact that he had somehow managed to get his life-jacket on while still holding on to her vest presented a whole new set of issues to deal with. As you can imagine the cabin section of the boat was filling quickly with the cold water of Old Hickory Lake and the flotation of the life jackets was causing the elderly Mr. Kennedy to become pinned against its roof yet he refused to let go of her life jacket, even unto the point where he lost consciousness.
Their boat had sunk more than ten feet since my arrival, and I was now standing in ankle deep water. Somehow I was able to break out the three panes of glass in the boat’s front windows and then finally two Samaritans swam over and helped me pry the water-logged body from the grips of death that held a temporary hold of it. We managed to roll him over and into my boat as the deck of the cabin-cruiser went beneath the surface. I quickly loosened the rope between the two boats before we were all dragged to the bottom of this greedy lake, and off we headed for the Marina.
Holding on to life was Mrs. Kennedy as she also held her husband’s head in her lap as I held on to his wrist as I checked for a pulse while steering my boat toward safety. What started out as an opportunity to continue holding on to the peace and serenity of a day on the lake before winterizing our vessels became an afternoon where we found ourselves merely holding on to each other, and the situation we had before us.
You know, the one thing I’ve found I do more often than I should is I hang on to things that just aren’t good for me. Like eating the wrong foods, drinking the wrong stuff, thinking the wrong thoughts. Hanging out with the wrong groups of people, or any of the other many bad habits I’ve experimented with from time to time in my life. Sometimes what I find is I’m voluntarily holding on to the very things that hold me back from being where I need to be with my life - where God wants me to be.
There’s always a sense of security in holding on to something since we already know the risks/rewards involved, and the level of commitment that is expected from us. And there’s always a certain amount of fear in reaching out for something new or different. This is so true in many aspects of our lives; with relationships, jobs, homes, even automobiles, where we go to church, how we teach our children, and yes most certainly in how we see ourselves. There are so many things we find to hold onto in our past, and present that sometimes our hands become so full we can’t hold on to the “right things” tight enough, and we simply lose our grip.
Holding on to things such as absolute truth, conviction, values, and principles are all things that get tested at times, and either our grips are made weaker or stronger because of these challenges. I now understand that simply because someone else is holding on tightly to a sinking ship, doesn’t make it something I should hold on to also. Yet so often we revert to that way of thinking, we get caught up in trying to mirror our lives in many ways to the lives of our parents, grandparents, friends, fellow church-goers.
I’ve found FEAR will almost always cause us to be hesitant to let go of what we even understand to be wrong for us. “Fear” as in the lack of courage to trust God, and have faith that He is in total control of all things both here on earth as well as in heaven - the kind of “fear” that can only be conquered by God’s love, and direction through His word.
Mrs. Kennedy finally let go, and let God rescue her, for I was merely the bodily form He used to catch her. Mr. Kennedy finally let go of the hand of death he was holding on to, and recovered from this accident. Unfortunately, it took me many more years to let go of so many of the fearful thoughts, and selfish ways I had been holding on to for so long – yet we all three were saved in a very real way.
Holding on sometimes can be the one thing that actually holds us back from allowing His purpose to be fulfilled in our lives. Ask yourself, is there something in your past you’re holding on to even today that you know you need to let go of? If the truth were told - we all have those things in our lives. If the truth were told - we all live with some unhealthy amount of fear about letting go of the things we've held on to for far too long.
Let go! “Just let go, and you’ll be ok” He calls out to us, “Please let go, I promise I’ll catch you.”
doug
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