Category: Blog Article

Are you a gambler? By nature we all tend to bet on something or another, whether it be harmless outcomes of movies or the more common outcomes for sporting events. Whether or not you put your money down is a personal matter but I like to keep mine in my pocket, being satisfied if I merely chose a winner.

Curiosity about life and how people approach it makes me wonder at why we gamble with the greater things. Our very lives, those of our children and even our friends. This curiosity has been making me ask even more questions the last couple of days. On the medical side of life many of those we love and care about are sick and will spend every dime they have trying to be healed by doctors. Some of these friends have life-threatening illnesses.

For those who have faith I find myself in wonder at why some will not gamble on God’s healing power as a gift to us? Perhaps it is lack of belief or maybe it’s something deeper. Would we want to be seen by our friends and family having a complete stranger with no medical background lay hands upon us and pray? I suppose society has stigmatized real miracles to their own detriment.

I am addicted to my gambling however. To outside eyes I am living my life as a gamble that Jesus is truth and if I gamble on him being truth than I accept he is the same yesterday today and forever. I believe he is still healing and instilling this gift in the body of Christ. Sometimes going forward for something new means leaving something old behind. For myself that’s usually shyness and pride.

Gambling on the chance there is no God and hell does not exist seems like a losing bet to me and surely one without hope. My own gambling addiction makes this life fun to live as I look forward to the beyond.

She was the last girl to wander the edge of the ocean. Many things she saw and admired; wonderment lighting up her face. Feeling the sand squish between her toes; the soft underside of her feet would feel no jagged edges of rock; no prick of a thistle; no burn from a sun’s heat, as long as she never wandered far from the wet, soft sand. Looking behind her she could see footprints momentarily sustain shape before lapping water elongated them, until finally they blended back into specks of mere possibilities.

Breaking surfs provided an orchestra of sound. A tempo changing just slightly with deep, drumming throngs, and light tremolos of echoing waves bouncing against distant rocks. With eyes closed she stuck out her tongue to taste the sea’s salty mist. Breathing in deeply she inhaled the freshest air she had ever known. Overwhelmed within her senses she delighted in a security of happiness. Nothing of an outer world could touch her here. Her dance was innocent; a promise of enjoyment for everything she saw before her. Skipping just along the wave’s outer edges, she watched as each of her footsteps pushed the water out from under her weighted footprint, feeling a simplistic joy at how her existence was enough to change the smallest grain of sand. Maturely recognizing this epiphany, she smiled knowingly, understanding how she could make a difference in this world.

“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” C.K. Chesterston

I was intrigued by this very thought on two separate planes. That of my imagination to give color and flair to my dragons but also the reality indeed dragons do exist. I have often thought of my dragons as Goliaths but that hasn’t been descriptive enough because they don’t seem to be playing fair. Instead of being on the ground coming at me face first in a match I can see before me, they tend to take flight and fly quite out of my field of vision. This gives them the advantage of flanking me from behind when I least expect it. They also have foul smelling fiery breath that singes my body from distances I didn’t think possible. My only hope is to gear up and be ready for battle always.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.” Eph 6:10-18

“Some writings will ultimately end up in king’s palaces, as well as the prisons and rescue missions of the earth, for kings sit in both places.” Author Unknown

I recall reading these words many months ago but I didn’t make note of who wrote them. The truth of these words however made me take notice. Just look at the literature we have throughout history. Many of the greatest books ever written were never written to be books at all but simply expressed feelings someone happened to write down.

I can relate to this myself. Just as a painter needs to paint or a musician must play, I am destined to write. Our ultimate goal is one of expression and it cannot be contained. I suspect those who are unable to express themselves often feel like exploding and if a healthy outlet is not found, often they implode in a sense of failure they can’t even define.

Expression of self is found throughout history but for brevity’s sake I will only mention a couple of examples. “The Diary of Anne Frank”, the correspondence letters of our founding fathers of the United States, and much more intriguing are letters from ancient history such as the King of Persia.

None of these persons set out to write “the novel” but were simply living their lives and expressed themselves with words. Perhaps they inwardly wanted to have others read their thoughts in hopes to share something special but in all of these examples it was not possible to mass produce books. I find it telling that they wrote anyway. Without knowledge that one day their words would be read by generations throughout the world and beyond that, their expression would change how some of us think.

An interesting thought for us is this; with the internet we don’t know who may be reading our words. I can be impulsive and spew forth whatever comes into my little brain, but a statistic I heard recently stated we can have as many as 50,000 of those in a day so how do I choose which of those to express? All you have to do is surf for a minute or two to see plenty of that going on via “Myspace” pages.

Let us instead use history to teach us something important. Long after the end of ourselves in this reality, perhaps what we write will be read by others without our fore knowledge. It makes one wonder if they would write something more important than “I just read about who my favorite rock star is dating….”?

What would you write knowing you were to be read before a king?

The new Narnia movie “Prince Caspian” was interesting to me and held some surprises. I have not read the Narnia Chronicles in many years so my memory is dim about the details. The fighting and death at first seemed too much but then I am reminded, why should we try to hide these things from our children? They see it on a regular basis just flipping through television channels.
I enjoyed the truthfulness of how this movie was presented. The heroes seem less then perfect and question their own belief. What was truth in the past should still be true today but circumstances are different so their focus wavers as they look for things to be as they once were. Dealing with change is not easy and this is portrayed well in the elder brother Peter’s character as he retreats into moments of surly anger.
Overall even the battle scenes were portrayed well. The confidence shown by these characters to know they must fight regardless of not being sure when Aslan may come is a wonderful insight of ourselves. Standing strong in the face of the enemy is not a choice it’s an absolute certainty of what we have to do. Not letting themselves be frightened at the overwhelming numbers of the enemy was a stellar point to be made and was well done in this movie. Even the ending was a teaching opportunity, to not be frightened of what the future has in store even as we know changes are coming.

What if everything around you Isn’t quite as it seems? What if all the world you think you know Is an elaborate dream? And if you look at your reflection Is it all you want it to be?

Lyrics by NIN

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; than I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.   1Cor 13:12

The night was dark and the air was cold. Still I danced upon the rural bridge around a small fire with my friend as we laughed together; women who were released of cares unknown. The experience of sharing such a primal dance has stayed with me over the years. I wonder, does my friend still dance and if so, what fire warms her to do so? Passion is a fire worth dancing around always.

“I lay on my back in the middle of the night looking up at the midnight moon wondering about my very existence. It was a question I wanted an answer to and yet the silence drowned me to the point of tears. There had to be more than this.”

Looking deep into the night sky I couldn’t count the stars. How could I possibly limit my future in the finite when the very heavens were infinite?

I made a choice in posting this note, not for recognition of sending anything out, but for a very important cause to draw attention to our fellow Americans. It is inspiring to know there are still so many men and women who make the choice to give up their own freedom temporarily to follow orders so that we may continue to live in freedom. May we never forget the costs to personal individuals and their families!

Perhaps you cannot send a care package but a letter would be just as welcomed or maybe a newspaper. Even better would be to let your voice be heard that you appreciate what our troops do for us daily. Let’s see more printed copy of how we are in favor of these men and women instead of reading only about the minority opinion getting all the headlines with their critiques.

How many would agree it’s easy to second guess how our country should be run by armchair politicians who won’t even get off their duff to vote? Better still, what would you say to the thug who carries a pistol in his waistband to prove he’s a gang banger and yet has no guts to serve a tour of duty?

Justice is not blind and the righteous will be given their due. What side will you be on when the books are opened?

If you would like to write to a soldier please visit the following website address:

http://soldiersangels.org/index.php?page=adopt-a-soldier

My track record for motherhood is a twisted tale of illogical trial and error experiments. Let me share an honest statement with you. Not many mothers know what they are doing. They wing it! If you think they don’t, just ask a woman who no longer has secrets to hide.

I feel triumphant that my son graduated school, married, found a solid job skill and now has a son of his own. It’s like a big wipe of the sweaty brow followed by the statement of wisdom, “Whew”!

My son is full of tales I’d rather he didn’t share and truth be told, I will try to sign him to a contract of non-disclosure one day. Since he’s likely to disagree with that request, it’s probably best I out myself first.

I can still recall the day I awoke with cake powder all over me. I can only surmise he was hungry and since I was still sleeping, he thought he would bring the batter to me in hopes it would cook on my warm body. Another fond memory actually took place on a “Mother’s Day” in my past. I can recall my teenage son leaning over me to awake. He was holding a breakfast plate of pancakes while it poured syrup all over my chest. An endearing memory for sure and I like to think of this one as a “sweet memory”.

In the upcoming barrage of gifts given out for “Mother’s Day” I would like to give a gift back the child who bore my constant experimentations – I love you son.