The Secret To A Blessed Life

Phil and Carrie sat in church, and as the collection basket was passed Phil pulled the check from his front pocket and tossed it into the basket with a neutral look on his face. Inside, he was feeling the pressure; he had just tossed another twenty-five percent of his monthly income into the basket. Carrie smiled tentatively at him as the pastor took the lectern and began prepping for the service.

Phil loved God, and he wanted to do God’s will, but things were not going exactly the way he had imagined it. He had pulled his kids from Christian school and placed them in public school to free up more cash to give back to God, they had gone down to one car, and although they were current on the house, the last of their savings was now gone, and this was the root of Phil’s anxiety.

The visiting pastor had talked to them about giving more than a year back, at the time, Phil and Carrie had been tithing, and giving an additional twenty dollars a month to a missionary work. The pastor had told the congregation that giving God ten percent of their income was not giving, that was God’s anyway, as a matter of fact, it is all God’s, but He only asks for ten percent back. The pastor went on to say that real giving begins beyond ten percent.

The congregation was energized by his testimony, his story of giving all he had away to the poor and needy. He had started with one car, then the other, then his house, then all of his retirement funds. He had given it all away, yet every time he would give something away; someone would give him something better than what he had given away. He would give away his income, and someone would give him a check totaling ten times what he had given away. At one point, the pastor had begun to feel smug about his giving, he had nothing left and he looked coyly toward the Heavens and told God he thought he had actually out-given God. Soon after, a member of the church donated him a brand new airplane with a pilot whose salary the man paid, at a hanger in the airport that would also be paid for, even the fuel and maintenance. The pastor lost his smugness immediately and then promptly gave the plane away.

Phil and Carrie loved the story, but the generous pastor’s story had not been their story. They were broke, and they were waiting for some payback. They had given until it hurt, they had given until they had bled, but there were no planes waiting in hangers for them. When they gave away their second car, no one had replaced it soon after, not at all for that matter. When they began giving fifteen percent above their tithe, they looked out for the blessings, waited for the blessings, prayed for the blessings, but nothing happened. Phil didn’t get it, what was the deal, he had tried to do everything right and Carrie had been on board too. He wasn’t even listening to the sermon because of his inner turmoil.

Service let out and Carrie went to get the kids at the children’s ministry. Phil approached the pastor near the rear of church and asked if they might talk a little when the crowd thins? The pastor smiled and said no problem, “we don’t need to wait Phil, let’s go talk now” he said, and they headed to the pastor’s office down the hall. Phil and the pastor sat, and after a beat Phil began to explain their quandary to the pastor. When he was finished, the pastor sat quietly with his hands together in prayer fashion at his chin as he contemplated his answer to his troubled friend.

Finally, the wise old pastor began to speak, and told Phil that he understood the problem, and he also knew of a solution. Phil smiled and scooted to the edge of his chair expectantly, eager to finally have the answer within reach. The pastor looked Phil in the eyes and said “give less, and replace the car you gave up, and your problems will go away”. Obviously disappointed, Phil asked if the wise pastor would mind explaining.

Well Phil, what it all comes down to is the motivation of the giver. Phil looked exasperated and said, “But I did exactly what the visiting pastor did”. The wise pastor slowly shook his head and said, “No, Phil, you didn’t do exactly as he did, let me explain”. The visiting pastor never expected to get anything back, he was willing to be broke and without possessions altogether for the Lord, in serving others who had a need. He trusted The Lord to provide his daily bread, and nothing beyond that, while on the other hand, you gave with the hope of receiving tenfold in return. Giving is about just that, giving, not receiving. The visiting pastor gave without any expectations, and he would not have been disappointed if nothing came back to him, he wasn’t expecting it. I guess what I am saying is, the pastor was willing to live in poverty and carry the cross with Jesus to be closer to Him. The blessings that came he continually passed on to others, not to get more, but to show God he was content in his faith that he would be taken care of, to show his trust in God. The pastor leaned back and looked at Phil, noticing that the lights had come on, Phil got it now.

Phil stood and reached across the pastor’s desk and shook his hand, thanked him for the insight, then joined his wife and kids in the parking lot. As they drove home, he told Carrie about the conversation with the pastor, explaining everything as the pastor had explained to him, Carrie nodding in understanding. They agreed that they needed to work on their perspective, and that they had something to work towards, a growth opportunity.

God Bless-JFT

This is a work of fiction, based on some fact.

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Rumor Has It

The boss man tells me the project needs to be in by Friday because our client wants to review it for bugs before they implement it. He has a nervous look about him as he tries to be firm with me, expecting a negative reaction. I just nod and say “okay boss, I will do my best”. He quietly nods and walks out of my cubicle, heading back to his office.

Willy, the guy in the cubicle across from mine wheels his chair across the aisle into my cubicle and says “what did the old man want”? I tell him and he shakes his head, what’s his deal anyway, dropping this bomb on you at the last minute. Does he think this software is written in a day or what? I nod my agreement and whisper “I hear his home life is not too good, he seems to be going it alone these days”. Willy’s interest peaks as he leans closer still and says “do tell, do tell”.

Well, Cindy in payroll said that she has seen him having a lot of lunches down on the second floor lately. She insinuated that Bill, our boss has been having lunch in the office of a certain female executive in HR, across the hall from payroll. Cindy said that Mary in HR has been shutting the door to her office for months now when he comes. Not only that, but she has noticed that Mary has made it a point to nonchalantly close her window blinds in the hour leading up to lunch time. Rumors have been circulating for months, something is obviously going on between them, and it has become common knowledge.

Then, rumor has it that Bills wife busted them, of course it is only rumor. Nate the shipping supervisor knows one of Bills neighbors and clarified that Bill was alone these days or at least for the last two weeks.

Bill seems downcast when he comes in lately, he never smiles anymore, and he is having his lunches in his own office, probably because he got busted. This morning when Bill had stopped by my cubicle, I noticed that his wedding ring was missing, and he always wears it. What more proof was needed, the wedding ring told the story. The rumors are obviously all true.

Later in the evening, I sit down to dinner with my wife, and she begins to tell me about her day and its events. We talk about things that husbands and wives talk about, and then she begins to talk about the small group Bible study she went to last week. I missed it, choosing instead to play eighteen holes at an exclusive golf club, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and so she had gone alone. After I had gotten home, she told me that it was about evangelizing to those we work with, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ. She then asked me to choose someone that I would like to share the gospel with before the end of the year, someone that I would like to lead to Christ. I had chosen Willy, the guy in the cubicle across from me.

My wife is kind of my accountability partner, so she asks me how that is going, and I respond “Oh, you know, it is a work in progress. She then asks me if I “know” what his beliefs are yet, or for that matter if he has any? I look at her and say not yet honey, it takes time to get to know someone well enough to start talking religion with them, you know. She looks at me and gives me that look, the one that lets me know how lame I am being. Honey, she says, we are not talking about religion, we are talking about his soul. I hang my head a bit and say, yeah, I know, I just need to get to be closer friends with him before I am ready to take that step with him. I will, I promise, just give me a little bit longer.

She looks me in the eyes and smiles kindly, Okay honey, just trying to encourage you as we rise and start to clear up the dinner table. As I load the dishwasher, I stop to think about my day and the lies I have just told my dear wife. I don’t know him well enough, what garbage! I obviously know him well enough to talk about how I suspect from rumors that my boss is having sex with another woman, who I also imagine is cheating on her family as well. Willy and I are close enough to talk about that, just not close enough to talk about his everlasting soul. Cindy from payroll, Nate from shipping, same thing, we talk about other people and spread vicious rumors based on speculation, not fact. Yet I am not close enough to inquire as to whether their everlasting souls are judgment ready. The Bible tells us not to call others fools, but it doesn’t say anything about us doing it to ourselves, so I deduce that I, in fact am a fool. As I place the garbage from the kitchen into the dumpster, I decide tomorrow will be different, I am going to be brave and talk to these folks. I think about the rumors I engaged in, and shame fills my soul. Why is it that we so freely spread damaging information about others, whether it is true or not, yet we make excuses when it comes to our faith? Well, it ends tonight.

I lie down next to my wife, and resolve fills my heart. I want to be different I think dreamily as the softness of slumber begins to seep into my mind, and consciousness begins to slip away. Pillow soft dreams activate within my mind as I fall into a deep sleep.

“Myocardial infarction” the young man says as he smiles at me and I do my best to get my bearings. You have had a heart attack, he says. I look around the bland room, and there is no hospital equipment to see. He recognizes the confusion on my face, and smiles again and tells me “we need to talk”. Fear rises in my chest as he explains that my earthly body died during the night, and that much time has actually passed since then. It is now time for me to go and face judgment. He explains that he is Fred, an angel of the Lord. As we walk into a larger room, I begin to see people I know, there is Cindy, and she is looking afraid also. There are many lines, and it reminds me of when I would go through security at the airport.

Near the front of a line I see my wife, and I run to her. We embrace, and she smiles radiantly at me, then someone calls her name and she kisses me and approaches judgment. She is welcomed into heaven, and she disappears behind a large curtain. I look to my right, and it is Bill, my boss. He looks down at me and smiles, “give yourself a break kid, things are going to be just fine”, he says, then winks. Just so you know, my cousin worked in HR, and when my wife got increasingly sick I used to spend a lot of time getting moral support from her. When my wife went into Hospice, it was all I could do to keep it together; she died a week after you. I sobbed but he placed a hand on my shoulder and said “relax, I forgave you, I knew what folks were saying”. Then his name was called and he smiled and stepped forward. He too was welcomed and went behind the large curtain. Then I see Willy, standing in line also, and I run to him, knowing it is too late.

He looks sadly at me and his eyes tear up as do mine. Willy I cry out to him, I have no words, and I can say nothing else as I begin to gag. He too begins to sob as his name is called, and he stands before the bench. He is found guilty as two hideous guards come out and cuff his hands behind his back, and lead him toward a side door. He looks one last time over his shoulder at me and quietly mouths the word “why” to me, and I just stare back, tears streaming down my face.

They let me in, not because I earned any of it, but simply because of the blood, Christ’s blood was the only reason. My biggest regret was going to bed that night, had I just called Willy, just tried, just made an effort, who knows. If I had just put half the effort into Willy’s soul as I did into Bills rumor, Willy might have made it too.

God Bless-JFT

This work is fiction.

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New Introductions, Part 2

Hello Friends,

Welcome again to “Blessed Dad, thoughts on being a Christ follower”. Last Sunday, I broke from tradition and shared with you three writers who inspire me. I enjoy exploring the scriptures and learning with you as I write my blog and share my discoveries and inspirations. But I also read a lot and I have several writers that I enjoy reading too. I have learned many things from these people, and the things they write about and the subjects they discuss are as different as night and day from me, and I love it. I told you I would share three other writers with you this week, but in fact, I will be sharing four. I will assure you that if you take the time to follow their links, you will certainly be blessed. So here goes;

1). Larry Nevenhoven

I have been blessed to read Larry’s blog since I first began to become a part of this community. Larry is a man of deep faith who walks with the Holy Spirit on a daily basis, and writes about it. Larry is a humble brother in Christ that knows the power of the Holy Spirit, and only wants for the rest of us to learn to use the gift of the Spirit as he has. Larry has had a lot of rough road in his life, but those rough times were each just times when God was guiding Larry this way and that preparing him to be a better tool for the kingdom. Larry likes to write in series form, and he has a talent for leaving you with a cliffhanger very often, making you wait till tomorrow to see what happens, a trademark of a talented writer. I would like to share with you Larry’s latest post “Will today’s Israel survive as a nation”? I know you will be blessed as I have been when you read him.

http://larrywho.wordpress.com/2011/08/10/will-todays-israel-survive-as-a-nation/

2). Tammy Hodge- In Progress until I’m done.

Tam as she prefers to be called, is a wife and mother of two teens, a boy and a girl. She works at church in some form on the praise team (I think she actually leads it, not sure though), and they recently relocated to Nashville from Oregon. As Forrest would say, “Tam’s blog is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get”. One thing is certain, everything she writes is meant to be interactive, and she wants to know what you think. Sometimes it will be light and playful, and sometimes she will hit you with the really hard questions that you need to be asking yourself.

Tam has a huge heart for those who have had abortions and seek God’s forgiveness about that, because she too has had to deal with that. She is as courageous as she is funny, and as bold as she is humble. I will guarantee you will be as blessed as I if you will click on over to this kind and inspirational sister in Christ.

http://www.taminprogress.com/i-am-bitter-and-selfish/

3). Linda Kruschke

Linda has been a good friend for a couple of years now. She is a wife and mother, but first and foremost, a follower of Christ. She is an amazing writer with a talent of few, and a consistency I have never known. She has written every day for over a year I believe, and her writing is clearly inspired by the Holy Spirit. She refers to herself as a reformed lawyer, a career path that she chose to leave. She and her family also live in the Pacific Northwest where they attend and serve in a church. Linda too is varied in what she writes, from deep Spiritual subjects, studies of the scriptures, to her favorite recipe’s and most recently, Poetry. The poetry she writes is amazing for someone who has just recently taken it up. As a poetically challenged amateur writer, I really appreciate her writing. This sister in Christ has challenged me, inspired me, and taught me repeatedly since I began to read her blog. So without further hesitation, dig in, you’ll be glad you did!

http://lindakruschke.wordpress.com/2011/08/27/when-the-dice-are-in-the-air/

4). Linda ?????-Shoes for an Imaginary Life.

I do not know Linda’s last name, but I don’t need to. She is a sister in Christ who has gained much wisdom over her life, and much of it has been gained the hard way, the school of hard knocks. She has navigated many waterways in her life, and met many challenges head on, only to be guided to where she is now, serving God and others. She minces no words as she describes where she has come from, her honesty plain for all to see. Her writing is fantastic, she is a great storyteller, and every story has a theme that becomes apparent in the end. Every theme seems to lead back to the same place, invariably the feet of Jesus. Her writing exposes her and her thoughts and intentions, which can best be summed up by 1 Corinthians 15:10  But by the grace of God I am what I am. That thing that you notice in her writing but can’t quite put your finger on is gratitude, for that is what she has, she is grateful. She knows she has been bought and paid for with the blood of Christ, that He loved her enough to reel her in and give her a home. A kindred soul in our community, I would like to invite you now to make her a part of your daily reading, you won’t be sorry!

http://shoesforanimaginarylife.com/?p=4801

Well folks, Have a great evening! God Bless-JFT

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Seeking First The Kingdom

Peace, blessed peace. Sometimes I crave peace, peace and quiet, peace of mind. Sometimes I crave an empty mind, the kind of empty mind that doesn’t have a care in the world. What comes to mind for me is the cabin by Lake Vallecito, Colorado that I used to rent for summer vacations every year. It had a large covered porch with log railing, and I would love to lean back in a rocker, and put my feet up on the rail in the evenings when thunderstorms would roll in. Close my eyes and listen to the clap and roll of thunder as it echoed through the mountain valleys, carrying with it the fresh mountain rains and a scent I have smelled no-where else.

I can still remember that smell, so fresh and earthy as the rain would begin to fall and the warmth of the summer day would be ushered out by the cold rain. The rain would usually only last for an hour or so, and then by sunset, it would be gone, the skies clear again.

Another memory of peace that I reminisce of often was last years vacation in the mountains of Arizona with my family, a similar cabin, and again the mountain thunderstorms that come every evening. Lying in a hammock, not thinking about the trivialities of life that we all must endure. Last summer when we went on vacation, I think I liked being in that hammock more than just about anything else, listening to the music of my family laughing inside. Rocking slightly in the cool breeze until I would drift off to sleep.

It was so nice to not have anywhere to be, not having to look at my watch or having a schedule to keep. And not having to worry about needing to be here or there, but to just swing and relax, letting the cool mountain air mend what a busy life does to us, it was pure bliss.

In times where things are stressful and busy, I think about those memories, I think of the good times we have had in the past. I think about all of us riding horses in the mountains together, recharging our batteries and having fun as a family. I have always believed in taking a vacation as a family every year, and this is why, because we can leave it all behind and go unwind.

When we enjoy those times together, it is easy to become addicted to the “simple, easy, or good” life. It is easy to enjoy it so much that you want it to be your reality all of the time, you begin to think it would be a good idea to leave behind the hustle and bustle of a busy life for a life on easy street, complete with hammock.

In the evenings we would hang out as a family and play board games, enjoying the absence of distractions that seem ever present in our daily lives. My wife and I would go on long walks through the mountain community and begin to daydream about how wonderful life would be to live there all of the time, to have a log cabin in the forest, to live the dream. The desire would cause us to begin to consider what it would take to make that dream come true, so before you know it, we would begin to collect flyers from the tubes under for sale signs, looking for that one miracle that we would need to actually be able to do it. Then the Spirit would gently tap us on the shoulder and remind us how blessed we already are, and we would enter into reality again, realizing we had allowed the devil to seed our hearts with a bad case of the wants.

As much we enjoy getting a chance to purge the stress and clear our minds out once in a while in such a wonderful environment, we realize that our vacations are a gift from God. These great family times where we have a chance to step away from the hustle and bustle are meant to be a time of repair and healing, not an everyday reality. It is amazing how much you can heal in one short week with those you love, but if it were an everyday reality, it would cease to be sacred and instead become something that we would begin to take for granted.

When I was younger and less seasoned by life, I used to have the dream of one day leaving the city behind and retiring into the mountains where we would have a nice big log cabin. We would have a place big enough for us and our four girls and their future families and our home would echo with the laughter of our future grandchildren. It was a beautiful dream, but as I grow older I know that it is just a dream, it will probably not be our reality. You see, those dreams we used to have had failed to include a very important part of our life. We never thought about how we would go about serving God while achieving our personal goals.

Another aspect of the dream that I never really thought about is this. If I build a life that is based on setting ourselves up in comfort and excess, life begins to be about us and our own wants, which does not leave a lot of room for God. Our world is full of examples of what happens when people first seek to serve themselves, chasing their dreams and becoming obsessed with financial and material gain, only to find that winning the lottery and getting that dream house, car, or vacation home was not the secret to happiness that they thought it would be. Without God at the forefront, their lives were still empty but now much more complicated.

Now I am not suggesting that if you live in the mountains in a log cabin with a hammock that you cannot serve God, because that could not be farther from the truth. What I am saying is that when you put your goal of achieving something like that at priority number one, it might be time to do a self check. When your “wants” begin to drive your life, you are entering dangerous territory. So now, when we are blessed enough to still get away and recharge our batteries, we take it as just that, a gift from God, and we try to keep our case of the wants in check.

Matthew 6:31-33 (NKJV)  “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.

God Bless-JFT

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Angry

I was angry! I came in from working a twelve-hour shift and wasn’t even thinking about dinner, I had to work some things out, so I immediately began to change into bike-wear.

She knew, she understands me, and my wonderful wife wasn’t surprised when I waived having dinner because there was only a little daytime left. I wanted to ride alone and stew, I blew out of my driveway right as my riding buddy Mike drove right past my house and saw me, a question in the expression on his face. “Were you not going to call me”? So I followed him to his house and waited while he dressed too, somewhat dismayed that I would not be alone today. I wanted to ride angrily against the mountain, I wanted to rail against it until there was nothing left. I was angry like I hadn’t been in a long time, and the anger was directed at my greatest nemesis, the one who has caused me the most heartache over the years, the nemesis was me.

I told Mike I didn’t really want to talk about it, didn’t know when I would be able to talk about it, I just wanted to turn and burn today. His good-natured attitude was there as usual and he said fine. As we rode toward the trail he ran something by me, a situation where he was afraid he had been a jerk, and felt conviction from God for it, to which I chuckled and said, “no Mike, you are not a jerk, but you could take a few lessons on it from me”. We were at the beginning of the trailhead when we stopped and I told him that in fact, I was ready to talk, I needed to know “why” I had done the things that made me feel so bad, and I trust Mike as an accountability friend. So here goes.

At five fifteen that morning, I began a seven hour start-up of unit one (a power plant), and was very busy, directing people while typing commands into the eight computers that control the unit, while watching various indicators that show me its progress. Our supervisor came out and gave us a short meeting while we worked; he seemed annoyed, which he quite often does (power plant work is famous for annoying people). We only see our boss four days a month, the rest of the time, myself and Joe (not his real name) rotate being supervisor, but this man is our boss. Since we don’t see him often, we try to talk to him about any needs we have or issues we need to discuss while he is with us, so that he can direct us as to what he wishes us to do. We presented our issues to him, and he got further annoyed, and completely blew up at us. This was only the beginning.

Sam, we will call him stood over me and my crew and screamed at us at the top of his lungs in an uncontrolled rage, pointing his finger at me, and then my young partner. He is still angry because I refused to fudge the numbers a few months back and it comes out now in a hateful tirade as I sit wide eyed and disbelieving, one eye on him, the other on my start up. He rants and raves, then even makes it personal, taking shots at us personally. In recalling, there was so much said to us that I can’t even recall it now, it is just a giant black cloud that occurred between five thirty and six AM yesterday. Finally, I held my palm out, stood and told him to knock it off and leave, we had a unit to start and I didn’t have any more time for this. I ordered him to his office, which I have absolutely no power to do, and he complied.

I looked to Joe, asked him to assume the controls for a few, and then I went into the restroom. There is a chair in the corner (I don’t know why, who goes to the restroom to just sit?) and I kneel, resting my elbows on the chair, and go to God in prayer. I ask Him to help me through this, to make me the man He wants me to be, then I do something that is really hard for me, I ask Him to bless Sam with peace, to calm his heart. I then went into Sam’s office, and told him that when the start up is over, I would like to speak with him, and that I will do it only in front of Joe and the rest of the crew, and he agrees. I would make two more visits to the chair in the bathroom during the remainder of the seven-hour start-up, and text my wife to ask her for prayers, explaining in rapid-fire thumb typing what the situation was, so she too prayed.

Two PM, I tell Sam that we are ready to talk, and he comes into the control room, he begins to start his talk and I hold my hand up, telling him to be quiet, and he does. I then tell him I am going to talk, that I do not want to be interrupted, and that when I am done he will have a chance to respond. I then tell him that his trying to make me into a supervisor like him will never work, because I believe in mercy, and he believes in a hammer. He begins to speak and I stand up and point my finger at him and tell him to be quiet, he does. I then tell him that he is abusive to the people on my crew, he has no self-control, and that if he can’t communicate with us in a proper manner, then he needs to send an email. I tell him that I was so happy when I was assigned to his shift a year and a half ago because I thought he was a true leader, a man I would be happy to follow, and that he is the biggest disappointment as a boss that I have ever had, he is a bully. As I talk, I am actually talking quietly, and I don’t even know where the words are coming from. I explained to him that my partner Joe and I work as hard as we can to train the people we have in the manner he instructs, and when there I an issue where we need help, he is demeaning and abusive as he tells us we obviously are doing things the wrong way. He is hateful on four of the four days a month that we interact, and that we are done tolerating it. Every man deserves to be treated with a certain level of respect as a human being regardless of his station in life, and Sam shows respect to no one with a lower pay grade than him.

I said to him that every time I meet with him, I try to be meek and humble in my communication, and it always ends up with him yelling or threatening. Standing over this angry man, I point my finger at him and say that it is over, his behavior in this manner is over, never once wondering how I would force him to stop, a man who actually has the power to fire me. There was actually much more said, but it has become a gray fog that has blended into a bad day, hopefully forever to be forgotten.

This tough supervisor who is always so rude to everyone then dissolves into his chair as though he were a bowl of quivering Jell-O, and the whole crew then sees him as he really is, anger gone and something like fear now in his eyes. Once again, I tell him I am done, that we are all done, and I tell him to go back to his office, dismissing him. I then turned my back on him and returned to my unit, now at full load. He left, and never came back for the rest of our twelve-hour shift.

I look up at Mike, and he is just staring at me, I chuckle and say “Hey, I really showed God’s love today, huh”, and he stares and remains quiet, deep in thought. Then, he says “wow”. He then says Jim, what you experienced was a righteous anger, which is one of the hardest things for a Christian to accept. We focus on love for so much of the time that when faced with righteous anger, we don’t know how to take it. He then said he had never heard someone admonish another so quickly and concisely without selfishness or profanity. He reminded me that I was protecting others in my talk. He also said, don’t you think that by going to God in prayer three times first, and having your wife pray also, that God was in control? After considering it, I agreed begrudgingly. He then asked me if I had wanted to do harm to the man, No, I answered. Did you seek to hurt him with your words? No, I answered. Did you look forward to or plan what you were going to say to him? No again I answered him. Finally if you didn’t plan your talk with him, then where did the well-spoken, concise admonition come from, because there is no way you could have said what you did without planning it and had it come out so well. I had no answer for him. Mike then said Jim, anyone who knows you, knows that you are a teddy bear. He thought because you are a teddy bear that you were an easy target, the fear in his eyes was when he saw that the teddy bear was actually just a kindly grizzly, but none the less, a grizzly.

We then hit the mountain, my anger gone, it was one of my weakest rides in a long time, clearly the teddy bear was back. I am still very tentative in my feelings toward yesterday, I am still not really very comfortable with them, but I will trust God is in charge. God Bless-JFT

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New Introductions

Hello friends,

I want to thank you for stopping by at my little corner of the web. I hope you have found something here that has inspired you, something that has maybe caused you to think about your relationship to the Lord. I know writing it is a blessing to me and I am grateful to you for your reading and commenting.

Writing this blog is only a part of the blessing though, I also read quite a few other blogs too, and I would like to share some of those writers with you also, they are so varied in their writing styles, but they all have one thing in common. They also seek to encourage others to grow closer to the Lord. These Various writers inspire me, teach me, and help me to grow closer to God, and I know they will inspire you too.

I am going to showcase three this week, and three next Sunday again. So here goes;

Char,

Char is a medical student in the UK, going through the final stages of becoming a doctor. This young lady has been a Christian for a couple of years, and works her faith out through her writing. The title of her site is “Learning to be Still”, and it has encouraged my immensely. She writes from her heart, and is honest and open. This post is on being gentle as a Christian, and it struck a very soft spot in my heart, so please read and enjoy.

http://learningtobestill.wordpress.com/2011/08/20/on-gentleness/

Next, I would like to introduce you to a writer that I have read over the years, The NorEaster is a nice man who lives in the northeast United States. I recently read a post by this man that really hit a chord with me, and caused me to think. I know you will enjoy reading “Dawn Changes Everything” as much as I did, and you will be encouraged. So here you go, enjoy.

http://thenoreaster.wordpress.com/2011/08/18/dawn-changes-everything/

And Finally, I would like to introduce you to a dear friend and fellow writer, Debbie. Deb and I have been reading each others posts for a couple of years. Deb writes very uniquely, and has an amazing talent that I have never seen before. She goes through scripture each day, and picks out a passage, then writes a poem about it. It is truly amazing, she in her humility always introduces it as “A simple Poem”, but her poems are anything but that. They are deep and completely inspired by God. Many has been the day when I was feeling downtrodden and I clicked over to her site, and her post would encourage me and the fog would lift. So please, if you haven’t been to her site, give it a visit, you won’t be sorry.

http://iftodaywehear.wordpress.com/2011/08/20/delivered-to-drive-out/

I know you will be inspired by reading these posts as they have with me. God Bless-JFT

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Justified

April 14^th, 2010. I have had an unfinished blog in my “works in progress” bin since that day. I occasionally clean out unfinished ideas that never came to fruition, but I could not force myself to delete this one. I knew I would have to finish it one day, or rewrite it all together, which is what I am finally doing. The title of the unfinished blog, “Justified”.

Justification is so integral to our way of life, we seek justification and validation from others and from ourselves in most everything we do. Think about it, how many times have you said or thought, I am not going to talk to him/her because of what they did to me, I am justified. I am not going to go waving an olive branch, she did this to me, and I am justified. I wasn’t the one who did the wrong, why should I go crawling back, he is the guilty one, and I am justified. That waitress was no-where in sight when I needed a refill on my coffee, so she isn’t getting my tip, I am justified. What if we were measured with the same yardstick with which we measure others? You do know that we will, right?  Matthew 7:2   For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Justification is the nasty tool of the evil one who patrols our world with his slimy minions trying to trip us up at every corner, whispering that it isn’t our fault, we owe others nothing, and we deserve everything because we are righteous. But if, just if, we look at this through Gods looking glass, it looks completely different. Self justification and constant seeking of validation or affirmation can be summed up sufficiently by looking at the very first word in this sentence, and also the last one, “Self”. Justification when focused on and bracketed on both ends by self is not us serving the Lord, but rather being fooled by the lies of the devil.

So, what do we do with this? What do we do when we discover that something that has been a heavy part of our culture, is wrong, do we plead ignorance and beg for mercy? Do we change our ways and try to avoid justifying our wrong actions with empty excuses, or do we just continue on and say, “well, that’s how we’ve always done it? I am having to re-evaluate long held beliefs that have even been passed down to me from my ancestors, are they right? I have always been a stout defender of capital punishment for the worst offenders in our society, am I right to hope justice will be served by seeking the death of another? Do I continue to think that “they had it coming”, because remember, the scriptures tell us, we will be judged as we judge others. How would I fare in the courthouse of God without the precious blood of the Savior to be used as a “get out of jail free card”? Especially if we were not only talking about life and death in the judgment, But the everlasting death of my soul, banished to the fires of hell forever?

I will tell you how I would fare, I would not even have a chance to sit at the table of my council, I would not even make it through the wooden gates to the defense table before God’s thundering Gavel would pound the table and His courtroom would ring with the thunder of His voice as He shouted “GUILTY”. The trapdoor would open and I would be forever flushed into the lake of fire, that is how it would go.

In the past year and a half or so, ever since the Spirit placed it on my heart to study and write about “making excuses”, I have tried in vain to remove them from my toolbox of justification. When you choose to no longer make excuses, what have you got left? Ownership!

I truly owe a huge apology to the Spirit, but there are no excuses to make, I simply did not know how to proceed concerning “justification” until today. Maybe the Spirit wanted it to be there on my dashboard every time I went to post, a reminder of unfinished business. Maybe a year and a third of seeing it caused me to stew over it enough until I finally got the message. The message I have come up with is this, No-one is justified, “ever” by our actions, we are all guilty. There is only one justification, and that is the one that comes with the blood of Christ. And we need to be careful how we judge others, whether we do it professionally in the legal system, or whether we are holding a grudge against someone that we feel has wronged us, no matter the case, we will be measured in like manner. There is an urgency to making things right with others, whether we were the offender or they were, it matters not.  Matthew 5:23-24

 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you,  leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.

The older I get, the more I am grateful for mercy, because it has been extended to me so many times. I have found that there is no way you can preach mercy out of one side of your mouth and demand justice from the other, we must choose. And when God pulls the book of life out and flips to my page, I can only pray that He will smile, look up and say Innocent, He has the blood, and he has the mercy, let him in. God Bless-JFT

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Shielded

Are you crazy, do you know how hot it is, she asked, and besides, there is a huge storm moving in, the national weather service has issued two warnings in the last half hour. Yes dear, I just mowed the yard, I know how hot it is, and I will beat the storm. I could sense the frustration in her voice as she said okay, fine. In her mind I could hear her thinking “men, they never listen”! I got on my bike, cranked a collective soul mix and hit it hard, I knew something she didn’t know, and I needed to ride and think. My memory reaching way, way back.

Little Don G. he moved onto my block and he was from Pennsylvania, a place I had never heard of, but thought it might be where vampires lived. During the first few days he lived on my block, we got into a fight, and then we were best friends, inseparable, we were five years old. He would go camping with my family, and he would become like an adopted brother to me, we were going to be buds for life. The house they bought had a tree house out back, and it was there that we became blood brothers. He suggested it, and I wasn’t willing to cut my hand, but I did have a splinter, and it bled a little when I took it out, so I figured that counted. When I was ten, we moved to the other side of the world, actually seven or eight miles away, but it seemed the other side of the world. Don and I kept close, having sleepovers and still going camping.

He began to go down a slightly different path than I, but when we were together, where he went, I went. We were both huge AC/DC fans, and wore our black concert shirts everywhere, we started to smoke on the sly too, at the time we were pre-teens. We would lie in our sleeping bags out in his family room and listen to the huge vinyl album Highway to Hell time and time again. He would tell me the story of Bon Scott, the lead singer I think, who after writing that song, got in his car, parked on the side of the highway and drank himself to death. Don thought that was cool, I always wondered why, never really got it.

We stood in the burger king, the shiny blade whipped out with lightning speed. The guy was ancient, probably past thirty and at least six two with broad shoulders, and he was angry. Then I looked at the knife again, waved back and forth in a deadly dare, c’mon, take your best shot, gimme’ all you got. My friend Don was wielding the knife, and it had all started because he thought the man, who was with his wife, was staring at us. He screamed at the man ”what are you looking at”? I kept telling Don to stop, yet when he looked at me, I didn’t recognize the eyes that looked back, they were hot with rage. Finally, I got him to go outside, and I went back in and apologized to the man. He accepted, but told me I had better watch my friend. I was thirteen, Don was fourteen. I would be with Don one other time when he would pull his knife on someone in my neighborhood when he was visiting me. The young mans face a mask of terror, for several years after I would see him at school and try to apologize, but he would run in fear from me.

Don had a little brother, Britain, or Brit for short, a softhearted sweet little guy who thought Donnie and I were supermen. He would follow us around wherever we would let him, he was a cool little brother, many times I wished he were my little brother, as I didn’t have one. Around the time of the second knife incident, I was running with my own bad group, just not as bad as Don’s. I was arrested for a couple of embarrassing incidents, shoplifting (stealing smokes) and suspicion of drug use. It wasn’t just suspicion, I was smoking pot, but the guy with the stuff got away so the case died, but I still got to see my dads coat through the small barred window as he came to pick me up in jail “ouch”.

After the second knife incident, and the two run ins with the law, a kindly probation officer told me that the next time I got busted for anything, I would do time. Hello! I quit smoking, stealing, and smoking pot, and fell out of contact with Don, he had begun to deal marijuana from his home and was buying it by the bail, and his father was his main investor. I dumped the rough group I was running with and found new friends that ran in better circles. I had fallen behind in school, so I vowed to do my best to do the minimum required to graduate, which I did.

A month before I got married, I stopped by Don’s house to invite him to my wedding. He really seemed to be getting his act together finally, he had a sweet girlfriend who had a little girl, and Don was playing daddy and completely in love. He seemed to be a changed man, and he was excited for me that I was tying the knot, I was twenty, he was twenty-one.

I was at work, and my mom called, asking to have me paged. She was crying as she told me that Donny was dead, he had been killed in some kind of shooting accident, I dropped the phone in horror, my boss let me have the day off. I would later find out Don had been with the rough crowd, had been drinking, and began playing Russian roulette with his forty-four magnum. Two days before my wedding, I was Don’s Pallbearer, it was my first funeral.

Dons father would later be arrested for child molestation, and get twenty-five years, his prey a little girl down the street. Dons mom had enough and moved back to Pennsylvania to start a new life, she couldn’t take the old one anymore. Brit went to school, became a radiology tech and remained a sweet-hearted guy, but one who had lost everything. Heartbroken, without God, and hopeless, a decade later he would sit in the same corner of the room Donnie had died in, and end his life with the same gun Donnie used.

The tragedy of Donnie and his family is so painful, I have never actually recounted it before. It is painful, hurtful, and all completely true, and is one of several instances in which God has protected me and gently nudged me onto a new course, because my course could have easily been that of Donnie.

I face life differently today because of things I saw that no-one should have to see, I go about life more fearlessly now because I know that if I were meant to die God wouldn’t have sent me the gentle tug that it was time to change my pathways. It is nice to know that God has something in store for you, so he guides the bullets around you rather than through you. It is great to know that there is nothing I will ever be able to do to change the date that is written by my name in the book of life. If I am destined to die getting hit by lightning on a bike ride in the mountains, God knew it when Jesus walked the earth. So I ride on, knowing that I would beat the storm before I even hit the trailhead, because my trust is in the Lord. The storm hit ten minutes after I returned home. God Bless-JFT

This story is all true.

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Church Under The Bridge

I woke up this morning, after being in the cloud of a dream. The bright sunlight stirring me from my sleep into the present, no longer enveloped in the deep world of slumber. In my dream, I was still at home living with my parents, loved unconditionally it would seem by many, wrapped in the warm comfortable world of perceived security that life in that world takes for granted. That world that knows very little strife, that world not yet tested in its faith by the rigors of harshness that life can dish out.

I remember finishing high school, and having to decide which college to attend, based on scholarship money that was offered, curriculum, and of course, living conditions. I began my first semester at the private out of state Christian university feeling like a big grown up, out on my own, freedom to stay up as long as I wanted, go where I wanted, life was grand. I of course forgot that my folks were paying my tuition, purchasing me a meal and board plan, even giving me an allowance to buy gas and some entertainment, but otherwise, I was my own man.

It is cold this morning, before getting up, I pull the blankets tighter around my shoulders and marvel at their warmth. How nice it is to have the comfort of warmth at my fingertips. I think on to finishing college, a Bible major, my goal to be a pastor. My college sweetheart became my wife, and we began a meager life in a cheap apartment, where we loved our lives away for the first few years of our marriage. I began as an associate pastor, working with the youth, after all, I was the youngest guy on staff, who better to serve that area. It was great, I loved it, and my wonderful wife Molly supported me through and through. She worked side by side with me, having kids into our home, working as an aide to me without pay, I could not have asked for a better scenario.

When the twins came, Molly needed to stay home more, to be the mom she was required to be, and while I understood, I missed her dearly at my side. The church added more and more responsibilities to me as I passed the thirty year mark in age, I took up counseling couples who were in trouble themselves, and took pride in the fact that some marriages were saved. My daily responsibilities were great and time consuming, and the counseling was not fitted into my daytime responsibilities, but instead something I did after hours three days a week. It became common for me to leave at seven in the morning, and not return until after nine in the evening. It began to wear on my marriage.

Being a pastor, people do not consider you the same as if you are just another member of the congregation, they consider you a cut above, and they place you up on a pedestal. When they have a problem, they expect you to be there right away. They don’t consider that we have problems and issues just as they do, kids to drop off at soccer just as they do, issues to work out with their spouses just like they do. You are expected to be “on” all the time, you are expected to never falter. Heaven forbid you have a glass of wine with your wife, and someone sees you buying a bottle at the store, you would be labeled a drunk and run out on a rail.

I admit it, I got so wrapped up in being a good pastor, that I forgot to fill the love bank at home. I put everyone else’s needs above Molly’s and my needs and we took a back seat to the church. Molly tried to reach out to me, and my stupid answer was the same, “do you want me to leave the church”? Do you want me to leave the ministry for a regular nine to five job somewhere? I always put it back on her. What I would give for another chance at that, but that is just a dream like any other I have when I sleep, it will never happen. Molly and the twins left me when I was thirty-seven, I was thirty-eight when the divorce was final. She moved across the country to where her family lives, where she would have some support to raise the twins while she went to work. Last I heard, she was engaged to be married again, and I no longer have the resources to go see the kids.

Although I have a flourishing ministry now, I am constantly wracked with pain in asking what if. What if I had sought better balance in my life, what if I had told the church “no” when they piled on more and more. What if I had quit my job at the first sign of trouble in my marriage and gone into the private sector, realizing that a job out in the world doesn’t mean I can’t still minister, actually I would have had more chance to sow the seed than I did at church, where the work is more maintaining and encouraging. I would have had a chance to sow seed on virgin fertile ground, yet I didn’t. I held on like grim death to the church ministry, and my marriage died.

I am an outcast to the world at large now, but am known as a pastor in my community, one I serve in with happiness. God has forgiven my past shortcomings, and placed me where he wants me to be, to me a missionary of sorts to a people who needed one, and I am good with that. I comb my hair in my compact mirror, try to get things in order before they begin to arrive. Stowing my bed and going over the lesson I have prepared to make sure it is ready to deliver, a family arrives and asks if this is the church they have heard about. I welcome them warmly as they find a place to sit. Others begin to arrive, the regulars if you will, and one of the members brings up a new bottle of grape juice and a box of communion crackers. I thank him with a warm handshake that leads to a hug. As I watch, the church fully assembles, there are near a hundred of us gathered under this bridge as one of the members begins to lead the rest in a hymn.

We are the forgotten, we are the forsaken, and we are the homeless, yet we are children of God as are all other inhabitants of this planet. Some of our number battle substance abuse, as did some in my old church, many have similar stories to mine, stories of loss, stories that led to ultimate humility, stories that led us to be called “the least of these” by the Master, our Lord and Savior. I look at the scripture reference for my sermon today.

Matthew 8: 18-20,  When Jesus saw the crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other side of the lake.  Then a teacher of the law came to him and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests,but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”  Have you ever thought of that, considered it for what it says? Jesus was homeless too, He made His home where He was, allowing those He taught to meet His needs.

So I ask you, have you ever considered this, what if you were called to be like me, to live under a bridge, to serve the homeless, to lose or give up all your worldly possessions, would you do it? What if you lost all of the “stuff” in life, and found yourself on the street, would you look for opportunities to serve the Lord wherever you wound up, or would your faith crumble like your wealth had? One simple statement Jesus made was this,

Mark 10:21 NIV  Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” What would you do if He said it to you?

God Bless-JFT

This post is fiction, based loosely on facts. There are many churches that meet around the world under bridges, in sewers and any other place of shelter they can find.

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What Would Jesus Do?

Why didn’t you sue? The question hung in the air, as I pondered it, the memories came flooding in. But I just smiled and answered that I was eventually returned to one hundred percent, even if I lost a couple of years to constant pain, being in a fog of pain killers and being limited in my activities, I was restored.

The whole story goes like this, In 2003, I was in a bicycle accident. A man let his little dog, a yorkie on a retractable leash run directly in front of my bike. I was riding long distance street then and I was hauling at cruising speed. When I had seen the man and the dog, I had gone to the other side of the road, giving them a wide berth. I thought I was done dealing with them, and then I saw it, the last thing I remember before the crash, the photograph in my mind that is as clear today as it was then. I was focused on the road, and then something out of the ordinary got my attention. I glanced down, and there, no more than two feet “directly” in front of my speeding bike, was the yorkie, and it was looking me in the eye. You may wonder how I can remember all of that detail from something that happened so quickly, and I will tell you I don’t know how, but I do.

Forced to either have the little guys death on my hands, or to do the unthinkable at this speed, slam on the brakes, I chose the latter. Now I remember nothing from that point on until I got my senses back lying on the ground. Extremely busted up, I struggled to my feet and looked all over for the yorkie, he and his owner were much further down the street, not even looking back. They had just kept going. I screamed something at the jerk who had caused all of this, to which he turned and sarcastically said “sorry”.

Ninety-five percent tear of the rotator cuff, three broken ribs, off to surgery I went. The repair was great, everything was nice and tight, off to therapy with a bottle of pain killers. Three weeks passed, but my shoulder turned dark red, it got hot, and was clearly infected. Back to surgery again, it seems someone left something behind when they closed up, and the infection caused massive damage to all of the other components in my shoulder. They had to remove a lot of tissue and repair the damage the infection had caused, the pain would be a constant for two years to come. I wound up having to face a third surgery before I let my doctor go and found another one. My new doctor would go in and clean everything up, after which, my healing would be complete.

I was ticked off at my first doctor for leaving “foreign matter” inside of me, it was inexcusable. I researched his history of malpractice suits, and found he had a few in his past. I then scheduled a consult with an attorney who specializes referring potential clients to other attorneys who handle suits of that manner. As I sat in the beautiful mahogany office where the shelves were lined with many books that I am sure have never been opened, I laid out my story. The attorney told me that I had a solid case, and he referred me to no less than five other attorneys who he assured me would be happy to take my case. There was no elation in my heart as I left his office with the lists though.

As I drove home, I felt that little voice “the Spirit” asking me, are you not healed now?

I had in fact been repaired, so was I willing to ruin a man who had gone to college for more than half of his life to heal people because he or someone who had been in the room had made a mistake? What if the doctor is a Christian, the scriptures warn us not to sue brothers and sisters in Christ, does my not knowing his beliefs absolve me of my responsibilities as a Christian brother? ! Cor. 6:6-8 But instead, one brother takes another to court—and this in front of unbelievers!

 ⁷ The very fact that you have lawsuits among you means you have been completely defeated already. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated? ⁸ Instead, you yourselves cheat and do wrong, and you do this to your brothers and sisters.

Even if the doctor were not a Christian, do I not have an obligation to him as a believer to try to set an example by showing love, if I sue him, will he then be so inspired by my witness that he will want to know about this Christ I serve? I think not! That little voice inside me just told me to let it go, besides if I did win a lawsuit and get a lot of money, it would probably just ruin us anyway. I began to consider an old saying that I had heard first from my kids long ago, they even wore bracelets with the saying on it to remind them. What would Jesus do?

I began to think that if we merely asked ourselves this question when we faced our toughest decisions in life, we would be happier with the outcome. When that person who has broken our heart asks forgiveness, and we want to hate them forever, “what would Jesus do”? When we want to give our spouse a piece of our mind for something that they did, “what would Jesus do”? It really is a great question, and the answer will always bless you with guidance if you only take the time to ask yourselves those four little words when you face the hard decisions in life. God Bless-JFT

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