In his gut Moss knew that in the nowhere before him lay somewhere in the haze... Binoculars to eyes penetrated it not. Moss smiled. Perhaps this day held danger enough to sate thrill, even peril enough to stab away the boredom of a mountain climber on flat land. "Haze in the desert," Moss stoked self, "means one of two, dust storm or mountain. Either way, I win."
Open truck tailgate pointed way to the haze. Off road bike cranked, spit fire, roared off truck bed, screamed through air; tires ripped desert sand. Dark rider twisted throttle till it twisted no more. And Moss jeered the unforgiving desert, spat at love lost, railed to heaven, "I need nothing nor nobody. All I need is me!"
Into the desert sand dark rider sped past cactus, past tumbleweed, past screech owl and rattler, but not past dark past. Past that stalked him, caught him twixt talons that pierced deeper into his ribs with every jarring of rock neath the tires of the motorized beast he rode. And the beast propelled Moss onward, pressed him toward date with fate... in the haze...
On and on Moss rode. "What lies waiting in the haze?" On he rode. "Will I be able to see once in?" On he rode. But the closer Moss got, the farther away the haze fled. "Is it real? Oasis or mirage? Dream or nightmare? Friend or foe?" The mind of Moss wandered, till time crushed in, till numbness crept from finger tips, through hands, up arms, into shoulders, up spine till paralyzing unsound mind. And on and on Moss rode atop dirge wailing motor of beast...
"Phrrreeeet, phom phom phom... phom!" The beast sputtered and died.
Moss woke. Woke to silence, to lack of movement, to realization, "Out of gas..." Moss dismounted, kicked kick stand down, before noticing, "I can't see a thing." And the dawn of the haze smote him, "I'm in!" I'm in the haze!" Moss let go of handle bar, strode deeper into the haze... THUD! "Owww!" Unforward progress ended at second step, ended hard, recoiled Moss back half a step. "What the..." He reached out, felt rock, "Its a cliff. If I hadn't run out of gas, I'd be dead."
Moss smiled, laughed, "Like I care." In the haze he reached back, felt handlebars, slid hands to saddle bags, took out climbing gear, and to and up the cliff he climbed into the haze... "Challenging, not being able to see," Moss grunted out, "but nothing and nobody is going to stop me."
Moss knew not how the hours flew, till his left hand reached up and in... to empty haze. "The peak!" He climbed up and over the edge, rolled over on his back. No rock poked him. With right hand he felt out and around. Moss contemplated out loud, "Smooth flat rock, too smooth, not the natural top of a cliff, more like..." Then he realized, "On the way up! The stones were uniform, equally spaced. I didn't catch on because they were so massive. I'm on top of a building, or a wall, a bulwark? Where am I? What is this? If only I could see through the haze."
Moss lay there wondering, thinking, concluding, "If its a wall, the other edge of it can't be far." He rolled over on stomach, inched forward into the haze for what he figured to be about twelve yards, till his fingers grasped it, "The other edge! The other side!"
As rapidly as an experienced but unable to see climber is capable, Moss was a tad quicker at rigging up the repelling gear. The thirst for perilous discovery goaded Moss over the edge of the wall.
Down... blindly down... further... further... further... until... end of repelling rope. "Stinking haze! I got no idea how far down the bottom is. If there is a bottom?" Literally at the end of his rope, Moss murmured, "I'm too tired to climb back up." He sighed, "So, time for a nap." In two shakes Moss set up the netting for a nap. And nap one exhausted Moss did, hanging there... in the net... at the end of his rope... in the haze...
How long was he out? Moss had no idea, before the voices woke him, especially one sweet voice... beckoning... enticing... inviting... luring...
"Moss, sweet Moss, awaken... come to me... come to me..." soft coo coaxed...
Moss half woke; longed to kiss sweet siren lips; reached out in the dream; and forgetting where suspended, in quest for siren lips leaned forward out of the netting, and fell... fell... fell... as echoed his last scream of life...
More than one glass of iced tea and plate of barbecue with potato salad went flying. All eyes jerked attention to the screamer, one confused and red faced Moss, flayed out on rear neath swinging back yard netting of hammock... and beneath the hands on hips of Mrs. Hazel Moss...
"Just who were you puckering up those unfaithful lips for, Mossy boy?" Queried Mrs. Hazel Moss. The interrogation had just begun... for at the end of the rope of life the haze burns away and all face the judgment...
The steps of all who walk in self alone keep not in step with the walk of the way. Why seek the haze of this world, which leads to fall; when tis better to seek and to see clearly in the light of Jesus love, which completes us...
John 8:12 KJ, "Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life."
Jeremiah 10:23 KJ, "O LORD, I know that the way of man is not within himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps."
Proverbs 3:5 KJ, "Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; lean not unto thy own understanding."
...We all need Jesus...
Allegory & Scripture
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
BREAD OF LIFE
Nose awakening homemade bread! What a comfort! So wafted away the Saturdays of my youth in the little town of Blessing, Texas. Saturday, the day grandson crock churned sweet cream to butter. Saturday, the day Grandma Smith bake bread. Bake bread in the oven of a cast iron wood burning stove, then set it to cool upon old oaken kitchen table. What comfort, that fragrant fresh baked homemade bread! Grandma love baked in every loaf. Comfort food indeed!
More than a few years earlier in a land faraway, lay the little town of Bethlehem. A humble little town amid hills of sheep and fields of grain. A little town where grain twas ground; where bread twas bake. Bethlehem, the little town whose very name means House of Bread.
Of celestial comfort, the babe born in Bethlehem, born in a stable, wrapped in swaddling cloths, laid in a manger, a feed trough where livestock ate hay and grain. Christ Jesus, the Wonder of Wonders, our Redeemer, our Savior, the Bread of Life laid in a manger. Where had lain grain now lay bread. Humble bread in a humble manger that all the humble of heart, who eat thereof, inherit a seat at the wedding banquet of Jesus in Heaven. The very love and grace of God the Father brought forth to earth in a lowly, yet precious manger, that sheep and donkeys and goats and maybe even camels had eaten grain from. The manger now overflowing with the pure Bread of life, Emmanuel, God with us. The manger, where all that eat thereof, eat of GOD. (Luke Chapters 1 & 2)
Jesus speaks in John 6:33,47,48,51 KJ, "The bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world. 47)Verily, verily I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life. 48)I am that bread of life. 51)I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world."
So much for such a humble little manger to hold... that grace of God the Father, His very Son brought forth to earth as holy bread in a manger; that folks like sheep (the helpless), and folks like donkeys (the stubborn), and folks like goats (the ornery), and maybe even folks like camels (spitty complainers): might repent and eat of the Bread of life."
God loves you
Eat of the Bread of Life
Bread of the spirit
...Jesus...
Comfort Food Indeed
More than a few years earlier in a land faraway, lay the little town of Bethlehem. A humble little town amid hills of sheep and fields of grain. A little town where grain twas ground; where bread twas bake. Bethlehem, the little town whose very name means House of Bread.
Of celestial comfort, the babe born in Bethlehem, born in a stable, wrapped in swaddling cloths, laid in a manger, a feed trough where livestock ate hay and grain. Christ Jesus, the Wonder of Wonders, our Redeemer, our Savior, the Bread of Life laid in a manger. Where had lain grain now lay bread. Humble bread in a humble manger that all the humble of heart, who eat thereof, inherit a seat at the wedding banquet of Jesus in Heaven. The very love and grace of God the Father brought forth to earth in a lowly, yet precious manger, that sheep and donkeys and goats and maybe even camels had eaten grain from. The manger now overflowing with the pure Bread of life, Emmanuel, God with us. The manger, where all that eat thereof, eat of GOD. (Luke Chapters 1 & 2)
Jesus speaks in John 6:33,47,48,51 KJ, "The bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world. 47)Verily, verily I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life. 48)I am that bread of life. 51)I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world."
So much for such a humble little manger to hold... that grace of God the Father, His very Son brought forth to earth as holy bread in a manger; that folks like sheep (the helpless), and folks like donkeys (the stubborn), and folks like goats (the ornery), and maybe even folks like camels (spitty complainers): might repent and eat of the Bread of life."
God loves you
Eat of the Bread of Life
Bread of the spirit
...Jesus...
Comfort Food Indeed
Thursday, December 5, 2013
PILLOW TALK
"My arms, I can't feel my arms," the thought tore across his mind. Panic was not quite there yet, but he was working on it, "Why can't I move?" With every last ounce of willpower he concentrated to move right arm. "Nothing! What is happening to me?" He could hear Jenny humming one of those new Christian songs round the bed as she dressed. He tried to call out to her, but his lips, his jaw, his throat were frozen. He teetered on edge, "Am I dead? I can't be dead. I hear Jenny." He struggled to open eyes... but realized, "They are already open! I'm blind... I'm blind... I can't breath!!"
"Wake up, goof head," Jenny's voice pierced fear. "George, you fell asleep with that pillow over your head... AGAIN!" Jenny pulled the pillow off his face. She shook him by arm and shoulder, "George, wake up..."
"Angel?" George whined, "Where am I?"
"This ain't heaven, George," Jenny chuckled, "but it is Sunday, so get your rear end up."
Now George did not particularly like going to church, but this particular day, church sounded like a pretty good idea. "I'm sure glad, I'm not dead," George said, rolled out of bed, fell hard face down on the floor. "Ouch!"
"A bit overly dramatic, as usual," Jenny commented, while applying makeup from her perch in front of bureau mirror, "Just get ready, dear."
Heavenly sunlight shined through the stained glass windows of the church that glorious day. George and Jenny sat three rows from the front in mid pew. And as the planned coincidence of heaven instructed, Pastor Mark approached the podium carrying visual aide. He held the pillow up for all to see, as he introduced sermon topic, "No amount of pillows over your head will hide you from the world." He paused, put the pillow over his eyes, continued, "But a pillow over the head will hide the world from you, so that it can sneak up... right behind you... and GET-CHA!" Pastor Mark tossed the pillow into the congregation.
To George that pillow seemed to float toward him like slow motion on a mission. George fought off attacking pillow more than just a tad too effeminately almost hyperventilating in the process, much to the good natured amusement of folks in pews all about. Jenny yanked renegade pillow off hubby, turned red, poked elbow into his ribs and mumbled under breath, "Get a grip, George!"
Pastor Mark continued, "So, what should we do with the pillow? How about putting that pillow under your weary head to give it rest, and to see... see near 4,000 years ago... see Jacob, the son of Isaac and the grandson of Abraham, the father of God's chosen children... see Jacob in journey passing. Genesis 28:10-19 paraphrased: In journey passing from Beersheba toward Haran, Jacob stopped for the night and used a stone for his pillow. And Jacob dreamed and did see a ladder, a stairway set up on earth and reaching heaven with angels of God ascending and descending upon it. And when he arose in the early morning, Jacob realized that this stairway is also the gate, the very door to heaven. Jacob therefore raised up that stone pillow as a pillar, and anointed that pillar with oil, and named the place where it stood Bethel, meaning House of God."
Pastor Mark paused, let it all settle in, or as in George's case unsettle in.
"Pillow to Pillar!" Pastor Mark continued, "Stone pillow risen as anointed stone pillar! Children I ask you: Who is our faith? Who is the solid stone pillar, the cornerstone of the House of God?"
"Jesus," the children in the congregation spoke forth.
"All who are children of God, I ask you: Who is the Rock of our Salvation?" Pastor Mark urged.
"Jesus!" The audience spoke forth, some shouted.
"Children of God, I ask you: Who is the ladder... Who is the very stairway between earth and heaven... Who is the gate, the very door, to go through, and to enter in, with the Living God, Our Father in heaven...
"J-E-S-U-S !!!" The congregation roared, rose to feet and praised the Son of God.
After a time the congregation hushed, sat, eager to hear. Pastor Mark clung to the podium, barely able to stand. "Jesus is the stairway and the doorway between earth and heaven that Jacob saw in a dream, as recorded in Genesis Chapter 11. But keep in mind also that in dream passing, Jacob received the blessing of faith, and in that new morning light, raised his stone 'pillow' of rest in memorial as the pillar of Bethel, the House of God.
Pastor Mark paused, began, "2000 years later, consider Jesus, who after having taught by the sea shore most of the day, Jesus saying to his disciples about the sea before them, 'Let us pass to the other side.' And in passing, behold on a 'pillow' in the stern of the ship, Jesus rested asleep, while arose a great storm of wind and waves that beat into the ship till near sinking. And fearing for their very lives, the disciples awaken Jesus from his 'pillow'... And Jesus, the very Stairway to heaven, the Rock of our Salvation, the Pillar of God's house, Jesus 'arises' and rebukes the evil winds and perverse waves of tempest tossed sea with these words: "Peace be still." And in the great calm, the great stillness, Jesus asks his disciples, actually asks us all: 'Why are you so fearful? How do you have so little faith?' And the awed disciples wonder, 'What manner of man is this that even the wind and the waves obey him?' "
After a moment, Pastor Mark reflected, "So, dear children of God, even though we live in the tempest tossed perverse sea of this world, why be fearful, why hide your head beneath a pillow, when faith in Christ Jesus makes possible even the soft bellows of heaven to be our pillows..."
With Jesus in her heart, Jenny hugged the arm of her husband and lay her head upon his shoulder. And George breathed easy... blinded by fear... never more... For George had passed to the other side... with Jesus...
Genesis 28:10-19; John 1:47-51; Mark 4:35-41: (Genesis 28:12 with John 1:51)
Postscript:
Of all the postscripts you will ever read, please take time to read and be blessed by one of God's 'planned coincidences' in the Bible: From the first book of the Old Testament compare Genesis 28:11 with Matthew 11:28 in the first book of the New Testament... and rest peacefully on the pillow of your faith...
Allegory & Scripture
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
"Wake up, goof head," Jenny's voice pierced fear. "George, you fell asleep with that pillow over your head... AGAIN!" Jenny pulled the pillow off his face. She shook him by arm and shoulder, "George, wake up..."
"Angel?" George whined, "Where am I?"
"This ain't heaven, George," Jenny chuckled, "but it is Sunday, so get your rear end up."
Now George did not particularly like going to church, but this particular day, church sounded like a pretty good idea. "I'm sure glad, I'm not dead," George said, rolled out of bed, fell hard face down on the floor. "Ouch!"
"A bit overly dramatic, as usual," Jenny commented, while applying makeup from her perch in front of bureau mirror, "Just get ready, dear."
Heavenly sunlight shined through the stained glass windows of the church that glorious day. George and Jenny sat three rows from the front in mid pew. And as the planned coincidence of heaven instructed, Pastor Mark approached the podium carrying visual aide. He held the pillow up for all to see, as he introduced sermon topic, "No amount of pillows over your head will hide you from the world." He paused, put the pillow over his eyes, continued, "But a pillow over the head will hide the world from you, so that it can sneak up... right behind you... and GET-CHA!" Pastor Mark tossed the pillow into the congregation.
To George that pillow seemed to float toward him like slow motion on a mission. George fought off attacking pillow more than just a tad too effeminately almost hyperventilating in the process, much to the good natured amusement of folks in pews all about. Jenny yanked renegade pillow off hubby, turned red, poked elbow into his ribs and mumbled under breath, "Get a grip, George!"
Pastor Mark continued, "So, what should we do with the pillow? How about putting that pillow under your weary head to give it rest, and to see... see near 4,000 years ago... see Jacob, the son of Isaac and the grandson of Abraham, the father of God's chosen children... see Jacob in journey passing. Genesis 28:10-19 paraphrased: In journey passing from Beersheba toward Haran, Jacob stopped for the night and used a stone for his pillow. And Jacob dreamed and did see a ladder, a stairway set up on earth and reaching heaven with angels of God ascending and descending upon it. And when he arose in the early morning, Jacob realized that this stairway is also the gate, the very door to heaven. Jacob therefore raised up that stone pillow as a pillar, and anointed that pillar with oil, and named the place where it stood Bethel, meaning House of God."
Pastor Mark paused, let it all settle in, or as in George's case unsettle in.
"Pillow to Pillar!" Pastor Mark continued, "Stone pillow risen as anointed stone pillar! Children I ask you: Who is our faith? Who is the solid stone pillar, the cornerstone of the House of God?"
"Jesus," the children in the congregation spoke forth.
"All who are children of God, I ask you: Who is the Rock of our Salvation?" Pastor Mark urged.
"Jesus!" The audience spoke forth, some shouted.
"Children of God, I ask you: Who is the ladder... Who is the very stairway between earth and heaven... Who is the gate, the very door, to go through, and to enter in, with the Living God, Our Father in heaven...
"J-E-S-U-S !!!" The congregation roared, rose to feet and praised the Son of God.
After a time the congregation hushed, sat, eager to hear. Pastor Mark clung to the podium, barely able to stand. "Jesus is the stairway and the doorway between earth and heaven that Jacob saw in a dream, as recorded in Genesis Chapter 11. But keep in mind also that in dream passing, Jacob received the blessing of faith, and in that new morning light, raised his stone 'pillow' of rest in memorial as the pillar of Bethel, the House of God.
Pastor Mark paused, began, "2000 years later, consider Jesus, who after having taught by the sea shore most of the day, Jesus saying to his disciples about the sea before them, 'Let us pass to the other side.' And in passing, behold on a 'pillow' in the stern of the ship, Jesus rested asleep, while arose a great storm of wind and waves that beat into the ship till near sinking. And fearing for their very lives, the disciples awaken Jesus from his 'pillow'... And Jesus, the very Stairway to heaven, the Rock of our Salvation, the Pillar of God's house, Jesus 'arises' and rebukes the evil winds and perverse waves of tempest tossed sea with these words: "Peace be still." And in the great calm, the great stillness, Jesus asks his disciples, actually asks us all: 'Why are you so fearful? How do you have so little faith?' And the awed disciples wonder, 'What manner of man is this that even the wind and the waves obey him?' "
After a moment, Pastor Mark reflected, "So, dear children of God, even though we live in the tempest tossed perverse sea of this world, why be fearful, why hide your head beneath a pillow, when faith in Christ Jesus makes possible even the soft bellows of heaven to be our pillows..."
With Jesus in her heart, Jenny hugged the arm of her husband and lay her head upon his shoulder. And George breathed easy... blinded by fear... never more... For George had passed to the other side... with Jesus...
Genesis 28:10-19; John 1:47-51; Mark 4:35-41: (Genesis 28:12 with John 1:51)
Postscript:
Of all the postscripts you will ever read, please take time to read and be blessed by one of God's 'planned coincidences' in the Bible: From the first book of the Old Testament compare Genesis 28:11 with Matthew 11:28 in the first book of the New Testament... and rest peacefully on the pillow of your faith...
Allegory & Scripture
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
HEATHEN HUBBY
Lily smiled. The birdees were a singing. The sun was a shining. Her hopes were arising. Her husband was a snoring. She twisted under the covers and plopped herself on hubby's chest. Lily kissed him. Half awake hubby Blake pulled her to him, kissed her back.
Lily cooed, "Today is the day."
Blake groaned, remembered wife's bliss born ulterior motive. He hugged her tight, offered alternative, "Couldn't we just sleep in this morning?"
"You promised!" Lily glared, then smiled, hiked left eyebrow.
"Oh no!" Blake squealed like a school kid.
"Oh yes!" Lily pinned him down. "Let the tickling begin!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRrrgggggggggg!" Blake suddenly ran out of breath and almost excuses.
"Hubby kryptonite!" Lily giggled. She halted tickle attack, cooed, demanded, "Today is the day..."
"But, but, but its Saturday, yeah that's it, its Saturday," Blake lied, but could not stop the smile poking at his face.
You know today is the day, the LORD's day." Lily nipped his nose with her teeth, added, "Sunday, you heathen! Must I spell it out for you?"
"Does God allow heathens in church? See I can't go." Blake feigned disappointment.
"All have sinned and fallen short," Lily beamed. "I was a heathen too, only weeks ago."
"Why are you so happy about that?" Blake genuinely wondered.
"Because... just because... you'll see..." Lily promised.
Later that morning on church steps a lovely old lady in Jesus T-shirt greeted Lily with a hug and Blake with warm hand shake. Lily blurted out, "Mrs. Lovall, this is Blake, my heathen husband."
Blake turned red, protested, "Lily!!"
"Well!" Mrs. Lovall lifted left eyebrow, smiled, "Well, we were all once heathens, Blake; but you'll see..." Mrs. Lovall hugged him.
"Why is everyone so friendly?" Blake whispered as he and Lily crossed church threshold. "These folks act like they know me, even love me."
"You'll see..." Lily promised.
And standing in front of a pew with Lily at side, the eyes of Blake did see, his ears did hear, his heart burned Holy Spirit clear, what God has planned for us... Saw deep into the multitude of people swaying, some dancing, lifting hands in angelic swirl amid praise filled song and music. And as the band played on, the praise, the worship amplified, and the heart of a certain heathen more than imagined... so must be heaven... And Blake sang along the words on the overhead screen; and Blake swayed arms uplifted; and Blake praised and worshiped the Living God and his Son ...Jesus... and Blake never wanted it to end...
And Lily smiled...
Romans 3:23; 6:23; 5:8; 10:9; John 3:16
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Lily cooed, "Today is the day."
Blake groaned, remembered wife's bliss born ulterior motive. He hugged her tight, offered alternative, "Couldn't we just sleep in this morning?"
"You promised!" Lily glared, then smiled, hiked left eyebrow.
"Oh no!" Blake squealed like a school kid.
"Oh yes!" Lily pinned him down. "Let the tickling begin!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRrrgggggggggg!" Blake suddenly ran out of breath and almost excuses.
"Hubby kryptonite!" Lily giggled. She halted tickle attack, cooed, demanded, "Today is the day..."
"But, but, but its Saturday, yeah that's it, its Saturday," Blake lied, but could not stop the smile poking at his face.
You know today is the day, the LORD's day." Lily nipped his nose with her teeth, added, "Sunday, you heathen! Must I spell it out for you?"
"Does God allow heathens in church? See I can't go." Blake feigned disappointment.
"All have sinned and fallen short," Lily beamed. "I was a heathen too, only weeks ago."
"Why are you so happy about that?" Blake genuinely wondered.
"Because... just because... you'll see..." Lily promised.
Later that morning on church steps a lovely old lady in Jesus T-shirt greeted Lily with a hug and Blake with warm hand shake. Lily blurted out, "Mrs. Lovall, this is Blake, my heathen husband."
Blake turned red, protested, "Lily!!"
"Well!" Mrs. Lovall lifted left eyebrow, smiled, "Well, we were all once heathens, Blake; but you'll see..." Mrs. Lovall hugged him.
"Why is everyone so friendly?" Blake whispered as he and Lily crossed church threshold. "These folks act like they know me, even love me."
"You'll see..." Lily promised.
And standing in front of a pew with Lily at side, the eyes of Blake did see, his ears did hear, his heart burned Holy Spirit clear, what God has planned for us... Saw deep into the multitude of people swaying, some dancing, lifting hands in angelic swirl amid praise filled song and music. And as the band played on, the praise, the worship amplified, and the heart of a certain heathen more than imagined... so must be heaven... And Blake sang along the words on the overhead screen; and Blake swayed arms uplifted; and Blake praised and worshiped the Living God and his Son ...Jesus... and Blake never wanted it to end...
And Lily smiled...
Romans 3:23; 6:23; 5:8; 10:9; John 3:16
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
CHOCOLATE TEARS
Down Cobble Way, ye olde shoppe the Chocolate Box nestled twixt Hope Chest Treasures and Gifts By Fig Tree Fox. The Chocolate Box, famous for scarlet heart containers sealed Chocolate Tears, that once past lips echoed sweet sorrows love lost years. Every customer tasted such perfect sadness in each chocolate drop, till along cheek fell down sweet teardrop. O' how that dark velvet cocoa dripped, that waiting in line buyer of tears for tears memory be tripped. For not one who did eat ever failed to weep; no not one ever dry eyes did keep.
So many came, so many hungered to know, how could any make chocolate so? What secret, what enigma sans joy did proprietress Miss Bonnie Foy employ? So went on this little what known, scattered as leaves by autumn wind blown.
O' but the how and the why came each lonely, each waiting night, that Miss Bonnie Foy stirred each chocolate delight. "Why, o' why dear Father above, why can not your poor Christian child find her one true love? Please dear Lord in the name of your Son, o' dear Jesus bring to me my one and only one." And from sad blue eyes of Bonnie Foy fell drops of not so secret ingredient... into spiral stir so chocolient.
Till one faith filled day as store front roses cried the morning dew, in with the cool breeze of autumn a young man blew. And in last step of steps for chocolate box he stood waiting, till at last his turn of time came at counter where Bonnie Foy stood waiting. To him Bonnie smiled, but said, "Sorry young gentleman, all my chocolate boxes through the door have ran. Please come back on the morrow, then you may have your chocolate tears of sorrow."
But the young man said, "Of chocolate boxes I need none. Of chocolate tears I need only one."
Like the deer oer brook lept the heart of Bonnie Foy, anticipating cool fresh drink of joy. From lower counter she retrieved the tray, and over last one and only chocolate tear did pray. In her own sweet hand, Bonnie lifted chocolate tear to the lips of the man. And lo, unlike all else who had eaten and wept of late, this young man did not weep as he ate...
And so it was, and so it is, that by good gift of faith we pray; and our Creator above stirs chocolate tears to chocolate kisses in His perfect hour of day...
...To our Father may all about in the name of Jesus cry out...
...Our Father is faithful to His faithful...
Bonnie Foy: bonny foy - Scottish for good gift; bonne foi - French for good faith.
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." -James 1:17 KJ
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
So many came, so many hungered to know, how could any make chocolate so? What secret, what enigma sans joy did proprietress Miss Bonnie Foy employ? So went on this little what known, scattered as leaves by autumn wind blown.
O' but the how and the why came each lonely, each waiting night, that Miss Bonnie Foy stirred each chocolate delight. "Why, o' why dear Father above, why can not your poor Christian child find her one true love? Please dear Lord in the name of your Son, o' dear Jesus bring to me my one and only one." And from sad blue eyes of Bonnie Foy fell drops of not so secret ingredient... into spiral stir so chocolient.
Till one faith filled day as store front roses cried the morning dew, in with the cool breeze of autumn a young man blew. And in last step of steps for chocolate box he stood waiting, till at last his turn of time came at counter where Bonnie Foy stood waiting. To him Bonnie smiled, but said, "Sorry young gentleman, all my chocolate boxes through the door have ran. Please come back on the morrow, then you may have your chocolate tears of sorrow."
But the young man said, "Of chocolate boxes I need none. Of chocolate tears I need only one."
Like the deer oer brook lept the heart of Bonnie Foy, anticipating cool fresh drink of joy. From lower counter she retrieved the tray, and over last one and only chocolate tear did pray. In her own sweet hand, Bonnie lifted chocolate tear to the lips of the man. And lo, unlike all else who had eaten and wept of late, this young man did not weep as he ate...
And so it was, and so it is, that by good gift of faith we pray; and our Creator above stirs chocolate tears to chocolate kisses in His perfect hour of day...
...To our Father may all about in the name of Jesus cry out...
...Our Father is faithful to His faithful...
Bonnie Foy: bonny foy - Scottish for good gift; bonne foi - French for good faith.
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." -James 1:17 KJ
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Sunday, October 27, 2013
THE SIEGE OF FORT PANIC (LAKE WOEMEEITCHEE II)
On the corner of Hope Lane and Faith Way the second live interview with Mayor Bob was not going well. "Mayor Bob, over here please," KOPE reporter Beau Airr attempted to refocus Bob's attention. Bob promptly plopped down in a pile of autumn leaves and began removing shoes and socks. "Mayor Bob," Beau persisted, "will you and the folks of Fort Panic comply with government demand to relocate by noon tomorrow?"
Mayor Bob stood. "Wheeee!" He gleefully squeaked, while shuffling bare feet midst gold and red leaves.
"At least," Beau side glanced into the camera, half joked, "at least before this interview I didn't eat the fish and kelp salad down at Uncle Kelpy's Cafe."
Mayor Bob stood still, balanced on one foot, picked up a golden leaf twixt toes and asked, "Well there Beau, have you ever walked barefoot..." Bob wobbled a tad on that one foot, repeated, "Have you ever walked barefoot in autumn leaves... and found childhood?"
"Never a dull moment with the dull," Beau sighed. Tried again, "Mayor, the President has declared that the people of Fort Panic are in imminent danger from the volcanic gas belched up by Lake Woemeeitchee and must relocate by noon tomorrow. What is your response, Mayor Bob?"
Bob bent over, picked up another leaf, "Oh, a violet one!"
The face of Beau Airr deepened grim. He almost seemed concerned when he asked yet again, "Willingly or by force, tomorrow noon the government relocates all of you. What are you, Mayor Bob, and the precious folks round Lake Woemeeitchee going to do?"
"Well Beau, what we are going to do is what we always do," Mayor Bob stated matter of factly, then kinda nonchalantly faded out for a while, as if in another world.
"Which is?" Reporter Beau inquired. Mayor Bob did not respond. Beau laid hand on Bob's shoulder to bring him around. "Which is?" Beau persisted.
"Which is what we have already done and will continue to do," Bob smiled.
"Is it a secret, armed resistance, a peaceful sit-in? That's it, isn't it? You are going to chain yourselves to trees!" Beau Airr dogged Mayor Bob for an answer.
"Well there Beau, me and all the folks round here intend to just keep on praying fer our enemies," Bob finally fessed up, added, "Oh, that and prepare the feast."
"You are going to what!" Beau looked like he was suffering another Lake Woemeeitchee gas attack.
"We are praying fer all those sent here to forcibly relocate us. Praying our LORD above will shower them with grace and forgiveness; not visit destruction upon them, for they are but lost sheep in need of finding," Mayor Bob finally spilled the beans of blessing.
"Nutty as a squirrel in a walnut factory!" Beau spit out, composed himself, direly warned, "There is only one road in or out of Lake Woemeeitchee and the Feds have it blockaded."
"One way in only," Mayor Bob agreed, "and that way is Christ Jesus."
...The tomorrow of high noon found reporter Beau Airr and news crew in awe of what they saw. Every man, woman and child of the sparsely populated Lake Woemeeithcee area had gathered on crater rim, looking down that one narrow way in, more a path than a road. And holding hands, together they stood, singing praises to the LORD...
Beau Airr breathed into the camera, "Everyone of them! Nuts as a squirrel in a barrel of peanuts! What is wrong with these people?" Beau paused, reflected, "Or maybe what is right with them?" Beau looked down the road. The air in his lungs fled out. A multitude of assault vehicles, armored transports, bulldozers and black SUV's were lining up in dark convoy at the base of the road up. The assault was about to begin.
And even reporter Beau Airr, closed eyes and breathed good prayer, "Dear Jesus, please save these dear sweet people. Save us all."
"Fear not, there Beau," Mayor Bob laid hand upon his shoulder, "for those with us are more than those with them."
And the eyes of Beau Airr opened, and he saw with them, all about the mountain crater rim... horses and chariots of fire...
And Mayor Bob praised, "Blessed be the name of the LORD..."
Inspired by the true and infinitely more awesome 2nd Kings 6:1-23 of the Holy Bible.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Mayor Bob stood. "Wheeee!" He gleefully squeaked, while shuffling bare feet midst gold and red leaves.
"At least," Beau side glanced into the camera, half joked, "at least before this interview I didn't eat the fish and kelp salad down at Uncle Kelpy's Cafe."
Mayor Bob stood still, balanced on one foot, picked up a golden leaf twixt toes and asked, "Well there Beau, have you ever walked barefoot..." Bob wobbled a tad on that one foot, repeated, "Have you ever walked barefoot in autumn leaves... and found childhood?"
"Never a dull moment with the dull," Beau sighed. Tried again, "Mayor, the President has declared that the people of Fort Panic are in imminent danger from the volcanic gas belched up by Lake Woemeeitchee and must relocate by noon tomorrow. What is your response, Mayor Bob?"
Bob bent over, picked up another leaf, "Oh, a violet one!"
The face of Beau Airr deepened grim. He almost seemed concerned when he asked yet again, "Willingly or by force, tomorrow noon the government relocates all of you. What are you, Mayor Bob, and the precious folks round Lake Woemeeitchee going to do?"
"Well Beau, what we are going to do is what we always do," Mayor Bob stated matter of factly, then kinda nonchalantly faded out for a while, as if in another world.
"Which is?" Reporter Beau inquired. Mayor Bob did not respond. Beau laid hand on Bob's shoulder to bring him around. "Which is?" Beau persisted.
"Which is what we have already done and will continue to do," Bob smiled.
"Is it a secret, armed resistance, a peaceful sit-in? That's it, isn't it? You are going to chain yourselves to trees!" Beau Airr dogged Mayor Bob for an answer.
"Well there Beau, me and all the folks round here intend to just keep on praying fer our enemies," Bob finally fessed up, added, "Oh, that and prepare the feast."
"You are going to what!" Beau looked like he was suffering another Lake Woemeeitchee gas attack.
"We are praying fer all those sent here to forcibly relocate us. Praying our LORD above will shower them with grace and forgiveness; not visit destruction upon them, for they are but lost sheep in need of finding," Mayor Bob finally spilled the beans of blessing.
"Nutty as a squirrel in a walnut factory!" Beau spit out, composed himself, direly warned, "There is only one road in or out of Lake Woemeeitchee and the Feds have it blockaded."
"One way in only," Mayor Bob agreed, "and that way is Christ Jesus."
...The tomorrow of high noon found reporter Beau Airr and news crew in awe of what they saw. Every man, woman and child of the sparsely populated Lake Woemeeithcee area had gathered on crater rim, looking down that one narrow way in, more a path than a road. And holding hands, together they stood, singing praises to the LORD...
Beau Airr breathed into the camera, "Everyone of them! Nuts as a squirrel in a barrel of peanuts! What is wrong with these people?" Beau paused, reflected, "Or maybe what is right with them?" Beau looked down the road. The air in his lungs fled out. A multitude of assault vehicles, armored transports, bulldozers and black SUV's were lining up in dark convoy at the base of the road up. The assault was about to begin.
And even reporter Beau Airr, closed eyes and breathed good prayer, "Dear Jesus, please save these dear sweet people. Save us all."
"Fear not, there Beau," Mayor Bob laid hand upon his shoulder, "for those with us are more than those with them."
And the eyes of Beau Airr opened, and he saw with them, all about the mountain crater rim... horses and chariots of fire...
And Mayor Bob praised, "Blessed be the name of the LORD..."
Inspired by the true and infinitely more awesome 2nd Kings 6:1-23 of the Holy Bible.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
LAKE WOEMEEITCHEE
Smack dab in the middle of west Texas desert rests the oasis of Fort Panic along the high in the sky shore of Lake Woemeeitchee. Inside that volcanic crater ridge, village cabins weave like bird nests amongst fir, pine and maple. For long ago Mount Sur had blown its top to the heavens to make room for the waters of Lake Woemeeitchee and the down home folks that would settle many moons later...
Now who would not flock to see such a village as this: an oasis by the name Fort Panic threatened on all sides by unforgiving desert, resting in the active volcanic crater known as Lake Woemeeitchee? What else could possibly draw more thrill seekers and scientists like flies than volcanic danger, except perhaps disgustingly stinky danger? Lake Woemeeitchee irregularly passed gas of volcanic proportions. A special gas temporarily stunning to fish, but not humans; although the olfactory nerves of Lake Woemeeitchee visitors might gag to disagree.
Oh, what a riddle of mystery, what an enigma of paradox, what an anomaly of juxtaposition was the catch 22 question vexing the vexed. From all round the world the curious, the tourist, the scientist, the doomsayer, the reporterous scoopticuss just had to come, to see, to smell, to itch to ask one question: "Why?"
"Why?" gasped KOPE Channel 3.1 reporter Beau Airr, as the just passed gas of Lake Woemeeitchee wafted by. "Why," Beau rubbed eyes and nose with freehand, his voice shifted to in-distress nasal twang, "why would any sane person with a nose live in such a 'disaster waiting to happen' place as Fort Panic? Why would the people, who live here, so stubbornly resist government efforts to relocate them? Why, well who better to answer that question than mayor of Fort Panic, Bob Tomm. So why, Mayor Bob? Reporter Beau Airr thrust the microphone into the hand of Mayor Bob. Beau needed both hands to scratch.
"We won't run, because us Fort Panic natives don't ask why... we do why not. Well that, and mostly we have just learned not to scratch," Mayor Bob said, then added, "When Lake Woemeeitchee breaks wind, we go out in tha boats and net tha floating fish fer supper."
"You eat dead gassed fish!" Reporter Beau Airr gagged.
"Not dead, stunned," Mayor Bob corrected. "We kill tha fish later when we cut off its head, gut it and scale it. Takes a real sharp knife. Oh, and also, before that, while in tha boats netting tha fish, we gather up the edible fresh water kelp that tha gas release knocks loose from the bottom of Lake Woemeeitchee."
Reporter Beau Airr fell to all fours and wretched.
Like a moose of night caught in headlights, Mayor Bob for a moment stared into the still rolling cameras, didn't know what else to say, but, "I see Beau had the fish and kelp salad down at Uncle Kelpy's Cafe. So... so... its like as we Fort Panic natives always say: tha main thing, 'the' main thing is... just don't panic... and trust in the Lord Jesus. We always say that cause in making tha best outta what we got... we grow in fatness of tha soul. Amen!"
On knees, reporter Beau Airr grabbed the microphone. Bob did not let go. Beau Airr warned, "Stop! This is live! Elected officials are forbidden to mention God. The government, the courts will prosecute!" Beau Airr added dry heave for emphasis.
"You mean persecute, there, Beau," Mayor Bob corrected, added, "God created Lake Womeeitchee to provide for us; and no matter how many tha threats by misguided government and so called scientist alike, threats to relocate us fer our own supposedly good; we children of God reserve the God given right to live where God intends, to think and speak as God directs, and have life as God provides. And our Creator, the Living God Almighty, keeps us as the apple of His eye... Praise our Father God in the name of His precious Son Jesus Christ... Amen, again!"
The gauntlet had been cast down... Coming soon: The Siege of Fort Panic...
Be anxious about nothing... Trust in Jesus... Philippians 4:6-7
Find fatness of the soul... Isaiah 55:1-2
We who love Christ Jesus shall not be separated from the love of God... Romans 8:37,38,39
We are the apple of His eye... Psalm 17:8
Feel free to share pawpawcorner.blogspot.com with any who might benefit...
...Thank you Jesus for loving us...
Now who would not flock to see such a village as this: an oasis by the name Fort Panic threatened on all sides by unforgiving desert, resting in the active volcanic crater known as Lake Woemeeitchee? What else could possibly draw more thrill seekers and scientists like flies than volcanic danger, except perhaps disgustingly stinky danger? Lake Woemeeitchee irregularly passed gas of volcanic proportions. A special gas temporarily stunning to fish, but not humans; although the olfactory nerves of Lake Woemeeitchee visitors might gag to disagree.
Oh, what a riddle of mystery, what an enigma of paradox, what an anomaly of juxtaposition was the catch 22 question vexing the vexed. From all round the world the curious, the tourist, the scientist, the doomsayer, the reporterous scoopticuss just had to come, to see, to smell, to itch to ask one question: "Why?"
"Why?" gasped KOPE Channel 3.1 reporter Beau Airr, as the just passed gas of Lake Woemeeitchee wafted by. "Why," Beau rubbed eyes and nose with freehand, his voice shifted to in-distress nasal twang, "why would any sane person with a nose live in such a 'disaster waiting to happen' place as Fort Panic? Why would the people, who live here, so stubbornly resist government efforts to relocate them? Why, well who better to answer that question than mayor of Fort Panic, Bob Tomm. So why, Mayor Bob? Reporter Beau Airr thrust the microphone into the hand of Mayor Bob. Beau needed both hands to scratch.
"We won't run, because us Fort Panic natives don't ask why... we do why not. Well that, and mostly we have just learned not to scratch," Mayor Bob said, then added, "When Lake Woemeeitchee breaks wind, we go out in tha boats and net tha floating fish fer supper."
"You eat dead gassed fish!" Reporter Beau Airr gagged.
"Not dead, stunned," Mayor Bob corrected. "We kill tha fish later when we cut off its head, gut it and scale it. Takes a real sharp knife. Oh, and also, before that, while in tha boats netting tha fish, we gather up the edible fresh water kelp that tha gas release knocks loose from the bottom of Lake Woemeeitchee."
Reporter Beau Airr fell to all fours and wretched.
Like a moose of night caught in headlights, Mayor Bob for a moment stared into the still rolling cameras, didn't know what else to say, but, "I see Beau had the fish and kelp salad down at Uncle Kelpy's Cafe. So... so... its like as we Fort Panic natives always say: tha main thing, 'the' main thing is... just don't panic... and trust in the Lord Jesus. We always say that cause in making tha best outta what we got... we grow in fatness of tha soul. Amen!"
On knees, reporter Beau Airr grabbed the microphone. Bob did not let go. Beau Airr warned, "Stop! This is live! Elected officials are forbidden to mention God. The government, the courts will prosecute!" Beau Airr added dry heave for emphasis.
"You mean persecute, there, Beau," Mayor Bob corrected, added, "God created Lake Womeeitchee to provide for us; and no matter how many tha threats by misguided government and so called scientist alike, threats to relocate us fer our own supposedly good; we children of God reserve the God given right to live where God intends, to think and speak as God directs, and have life as God provides. And our Creator, the Living God Almighty, keeps us as the apple of His eye... Praise our Father God in the name of His precious Son Jesus Christ... Amen, again!"
The gauntlet had been cast down... Coming soon: The Siege of Fort Panic...
Be anxious about nothing... Trust in Jesus... Philippians 4:6-7
Find fatness of the soul... Isaiah 55:1-2
We who love Christ Jesus shall not be separated from the love of God... Romans 8:37,38,39
We are the apple of His eye... Psalm 17:8
Feel free to share pawpawcorner.blogspot.com with any who might benefit...
...Thank you Jesus for loving us...
Saturday, October 5, 2013
DETACHED ATTACHMENT
For sure Bill Nuff loved his wife Anida. Bill wanted the world for Anida, and Anida wanted the world. Seemed for Anida, Bill Nuff could never buy enough stuff. Perfect union, most thought. And why not, neighbors added, in the land of unlimited credit, just why not?
Early in the marriage, actually on wedding day, sitting in front of the mirror in that glowing fluffy white, adding that last dab of makeup before walking the aisle of no return, Anida had sworn, "I'll never be one of those gray sweats wearing ex-cheer leader wives, waddling through life like a caged duck out of water." Thus in her mind echoed this no-direction lack of Christian emotion to the inevitable conclusion of detached attachment. The void had to be filled... "Filled," cried Anida Nuff, "with more stuff.
But soon the train of buying things derailed budgetary reality. For no matter how well Bill's Plumbing succeeded, no matter the robust business net, no matter the credit cards of every nuance of rainbow color maxed to sky limit, Anida's lust for more stuff, cost more. Therefore, Bill stepped up. Bill's Plumbing morphed into Bill's Plumbing & Electrical Unlimited. And as Bill Nuff huffed and puffed enough hours to kill any man, the neighbor ladies of more stuff creed, all agreed, "What a man!"
And as the business grew, and grew, and grew, so did the stuff of Anida Nuff: designer clothing, summer and winter cottages, a new mansion on the hill, a bigger garage to house her dozen or so custom autos, and just plain old more expensive stuff, till stuff had no more space to be stuffed. Hence loving husband Bill built for Anida her very own warehouse outback. But as the business grew, so did the blood pressure of Bill Nuff, until his heart had had enough. Actually his aorta had had enough. Actually exploded with such force, Bill's lungs were shredded in the high pressure blast.
Sitting at the bureau mirror, adding that last dab of makeup, Anida had not noticed fatal explosion. Anida stood up, bent over for one last in mirror touch up, turned round, saw Bill, and hands on hips complained, "Bill quit laying there like your dead! I'm going shopping with or without you." Bill didn't budge. Anida sashayed over, bent over, removed his wallet and said, "Anida needs her money, Honey." Not till her return from shopping, did Anida's detached attachment become self evident. Bill had still not budged.
After the funeral, Anida drove straight to the mall. The spending spree lasted only as long as the insurance and business money. Soon foreclosed upon were the mansion on the hill, the summer and winter cottages. The custom autos repossessed. The business assets and warehouse of stuff auctioned off. But Anida found a new home of cardboard under the Constitution Bridge just outside Richland in Prosperity County. And although shoved without, Anida did not do without. She still collected stuff... all sorts of stuff... cans, bottles, pieces of misshapen wood, a sun bleached squirrel skull or two... all a clutter but no less useless as all the expensive stuff before. And so in Anida's false bliss... detached attachment ate on and on...
At the foot of Constitution Bridge, the north wind swirled the white hair of Pastor John, as he held tight Bible to chest... as he prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father, winter nears, please help Anida give up the idol of stuff, and span the void between You and her with the love of Jesus. We have a warm place for her at Pilgrim Way Mission, as long as Anida needs us."
...Why let possessions possess you...
...Only Jesus can fill the void...
Ecclesiastes 1:1-3; Proverbs 1:19; Mark 8:36; Ecclesiastes 12:7-14; Acts 2:37-38
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Early in the marriage, actually on wedding day, sitting in front of the mirror in that glowing fluffy white, adding that last dab of makeup before walking the aisle of no return, Anida had sworn, "I'll never be one of those gray sweats wearing ex-cheer leader wives, waddling through life like a caged duck out of water." Thus in her mind echoed this no-direction lack of Christian emotion to the inevitable conclusion of detached attachment. The void had to be filled... "Filled," cried Anida Nuff, "with more stuff.
But soon the train of buying things derailed budgetary reality. For no matter how well Bill's Plumbing succeeded, no matter the robust business net, no matter the credit cards of every nuance of rainbow color maxed to sky limit, Anida's lust for more stuff, cost more. Therefore, Bill stepped up. Bill's Plumbing morphed into Bill's Plumbing & Electrical Unlimited. And as Bill Nuff huffed and puffed enough hours to kill any man, the neighbor ladies of more stuff creed, all agreed, "What a man!"
And as the business grew, and grew, and grew, so did the stuff of Anida Nuff: designer clothing, summer and winter cottages, a new mansion on the hill, a bigger garage to house her dozen or so custom autos, and just plain old more expensive stuff, till stuff had no more space to be stuffed. Hence loving husband Bill built for Anida her very own warehouse outback. But as the business grew, so did the blood pressure of Bill Nuff, until his heart had had enough. Actually his aorta had had enough. Actually exploded with such force, Bill's lungs were shredded in the high pressure blast.
Sitting at the bureau mirror, adding that last dab of makeup, Anida had not noticed fatal explosion. Anida stood up, bent over for one last in mirror touch up, turned round, saw Bill, and hands on hips complained, "Bill quit laying there like your dead! I'm going shopping with or without you." Bill didn't budge. Anida sashayed over, bent over, removed his wallet and said, "Anida needs her money, Honey." Not till her return from shopping, did Anida's detached attachment become self evident. Bill had still not budged.
After the funeral, Anida drove straight to the mall. The spending spree lasted only as long as the insurance and business money. Soon foreclosed upon were the mansion on the hill, the summer and winter cottages. The custom autos repossessed. The business assets and warehouse of stuff auctioned off. But Anida found a new home of cardboard under the Constitution Bridge just outside Richland in Prosperity County. And although shoved without, Anida did not do without. She still collected stuff... all sorts of stuff... cans, bottles, pieces of misshapen wood, a sun bleached squirrel skull or two... all a clutter but no less useless as all the expensive stuff before. And so in Anida's false bliss... detached attachment ate on and on...
At the foot of Constitution Bridge, the north wind swirled the white hair of Pastor John, as he held tight Bible to chest... as he prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father, winter nears, please help Anida give up the idol of stuff, and span the void between You and her with the love of Jesus. We have a warm place for her at Pilgrim Way Mission, as long as Anida needs us."
...Why let possessions possess you...
...Only Jesus can fill the void...
Ecclesiastes 1:1-3; Proverbs 1:19; Mark 8:36; Ecclesiastes 12:7-14; Acts 2:37-38
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
BEEN THERE DONE THAT
Where else but the Autumnville Country Store front porch could sitting be considered sport. But there the tres amigos, Fred, Ed and Ted, competed in rocking chairs, just a tad more antique than they were.
"Good morning rocking chair jockeys," greeted Mrs. Bode, as she ascended porch steps, "I see you all are wearing the team uniform and protective head gear."
"Are you poking fun at our overalls and caps?" Ed complained.
Mrs Bode halted halfway through store screen door and left jabbed his shoulder. "Just yours Ed," she laughed.
"Ouch!" Ed rubbed his shoulder.
"Beat up by a woman!" Fred ribbed.
"Yep," nodded Ted.
"Shut up!" Ed fended them off, "At least she's purdy, and she touched me. That's more action than either one of you two geezers have had in the past 40 years."
"Sadly true," Fred reflected.
"Yep," Ted agreed.
Fred stroked beard, spit, said, "Have you ever crossed the line, just to get to the other side?"
"Been there, done that," Ed mused.
"Yep," chimed Ted.
Fred contemplated, "Have you ever had a date with destiny," he spit over porch plank edge, "and got stood up?"
"Been there, done that," Ed said, added, "In fact her name 'was' Destiny, back in '43."
"Yep," Ted was slipping off into that special place of diminished capacity, called The Ted Zone.
Fred thought a while, then asked, "Have you ever accepted Christ Jesus as Savior?"
"Nope!" Ed croaked, tilted forward, fell face down on porch plank. The only chair still rocking was the one Ed fell out of.
"Is he planking?" Ted asked.
"Walked the eternal plank," Fred observed. He swallowed hard, "Why didn't I witness to him before now?"
Ted cried out, "This life is but a mist for a little while..."
James 4:14; Romans 3:23, 6:23, 5:8, 10:9 & 13
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
"Good morning rocking chair jockeys," greeted Mrs. Bode, as she ascended porch steps, "I see you all are wearing the team uniform and protective head gear."
"Are you poking fun at our overalls and caps?" Ed complained.
Mrs Bode halted halfway through store screen door and left jabbed his shoulder. "Just yours Ed," she laughed.
"Ouch!" Ed rubbed his shoulder.
"Beat up by a woman!" Fred ribbed.
"Yep," nodded Ted.
"Shut up!" Ed fended them off, "At least she's purdy, and she touched me. That's more action than either one of you two geezers have had in the past 40 years."
"Sadly true," Fred reflected.
"Yep," Ted agreed.
Fred stroked beard, spit, said, "Have you ever crossed the line, just to get to the other side?"
"Been there, done that," Ed mused.
"Yep," chimed Ted.
Fred contemplated, "Have you ever had a date with destiny," he spit over porch plank edge, "and got stood up?"
"Been there, done that," Ed said, added, "In fact her name 'was' Destiny, back in '43."
"Yep," Ted was slipping off into that special place of diminished capacity, called The Ted Zone.
Fred thought a while, then asked, "Have you ever accepted Christ Jesus as Savior?"
"Nope!" Ed croaked, tilted forward, fell face down on porch plank. The only chair still rocking was the one Ed fell out of.
"Is he planking?" Ted asked.
"Walked the eternal plank," Fred observed. He swallowed hard, "Why didn't I witness to him before now?"
Ted cried out, "This life is but a mist for a little while..."
James 4:14; Romans 3:23, 6:23, 5:8, 10:9 & 13
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Monday, September 9, 2013
HALFWAY TO HATHAWAY
Serpentine smirk glowered in the dim light of dashboard GPS. "Spur 777 dead ends in the town of Halfway, Texas. If that is not poetic injustice for all those logic challenged Christians, what is? This is going to be good," spat out the up to no good Saul Bellow of the Texas Restless Reporter. Seems Saul never ceased pursuit of atheistic un-value.
For Saul that winding road to Halfway was an unsteady climb over hill after hill; till one hill loomed steeper than them all. Saul on gas pedal the pressure applied, but his truck began to buck, coughed, choked, then died, before backwards it began to slide. Hard on the brake pedal Saul gave it all, but truck downhill continued back pedal fall. His leg muscles for what seemed eternity burned raw. His heart pounded. His brain ached, took a minute or two to register truck no longer moved. "Wheeh, still alive?" At steep hill bottom Saul chewed, "I got a job to do!"
To the less taller hill behind, the truck u-turned, climbed to its top, turned round and stopped. "Get 'er done!" Saul screamed, crammed gas pedal to metal. Tires burned rubber. Saul's heart burned hotter, "I got a story to twist!"
Down hill Saul sped, then up higher hill he fled, till stopped, till perched on top. From over his shoulder the morning sun rose, shined on west, cast twilight day down upon the town of Halfway, nestled in the valley of the Horse Shoe Mountains. Saul stepped out of truck. Raised camera, even said, "So beautiful, it almost makes me want to believe." He filmed a while, before returned sad smile, "But I'll get over it."
The plan was nothing new, followed old format, tried and semi-true. Thru town pass thru. Film here, film there, fire in an oral observation or two. But Saul interviewed none, figured to do it later; for something compelled him toward the far end of Halfway. "Why not," Saul shrugged, "I mean, like after all, how far down can far end be in this halfway town?"
Saul braked at stop sign. Spur 777 ended at the tee with Hathaway Street. On the far side of Hathaway a big green sign beckoned. Welcome to Horse Shoe Mountain Trail. Enter at own risk. Continue on foot. So he did, camera in hand. "Photo-op heaven!" Saul slipped, un-corrected himself, "That is, if there really were a heaven."
Up he went. The climb rapidly got steeper. The trail got narrower. "Real narrow," Saul muttered, "Who in their right mind would put a public trail not more than three feet wide up the side of a mountain?" He rounded the corner. Heard coiled diamond back rattler. Saul looked down, squeaked, "That snake's head is bigger than my foot!" Back glued to mountain, eyes squinched tight, he called out, "Help me Jesus!" With venom dripping fangs that ancient serpent sprang, sprang over trail edge to far, far below...
Saul's eyes opened. Saw all the way to Hathaway Street and a cross topped building there...
Back in the town of Halfway, on the street of Hathaway, a shaken Saul walked thru the Door of the Church. "Hello little sheep. I've been told to expect you, Saul," greeted the Pastor from altar steps, "Have you ever considered a change of name?"
...Is Halfway to Hathaway closer than thought...
...Call out to the only way...
...JESUS...
As entertaining as this little story may be, it is no where near as awesome as the true story of Saul to Paul in the Bible... Please read Acts 9:1-20 & 13:9. The sheep and the Door & the Way are explained in John 10:1-30; 14:6; 3:16; and Romans 10:13.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
For Saul that winding road to Halfway was an unsteady climb over hill after hill; till one hill loomed steeper than them all. Saul on gas pedal the pressure applied, but his truck began to buck, coughed, choked, then died, before backwards it began to slide. Hard on the brake pedal Saul gave it all, but truck downhill continued back pedal fall. His leg muscles for what seemed eternity burned raw. His heart pounded. His brain ached, took a minute or two to register truck no longer moved. "Wheeh, still alive?" At steep hill bottom Saul chewed, "I got a job to do!"
To the less taller hill behind, the truck u-turned, climbed to its top, turned round and stopped. "Get 'er done!" Saul screamed, crammed gas pedal to metal. Tires burned rubber. Saul's heart burned hotter, "I got a story to twist!"
Down hill Saul sped, then up higher hill he fled, till stopped, till perched on top. From over his shoulder the morning sun rose, shined on west, cast twilight day down upon the town of Halfway, nestled in the valley of the Horse Shoe Mountains. Saul stepped out of truck. Raised camera, even said, "So beautiful, it almost makes me want to believe." He filmed a while, before returned sad smile, "But I'll get over it."
The plan was nothing new, followed old format, tried and semi-true. Thru town pass thru. Film here, film there, fire in an oral observation or two. But Saul interviewed none, figured to do it later; for something compelled him toward the far end of Halfway. "Why not," Saul shrugged, "I mean, like after all, how far down can far end be in this halfway town?"
Saul braked at stop sign. Spur 777 ended at the tee with Hathaway Street. On the far side of Hathaway a big green sign beckoned. Welcome to Horse Shoe Mountain Trail. Enter at own risk. Continue on foot. So he did, camera in hand. "Photo-op heaven!" Saul slipped, un-corrected himself, "That is, if there really were a heaven."
Up he went. The climb rapidly got steeper. The trail got narrower. "Real narrow," Saul muttered, "Who in their right mind would put a public trail not more than three feet wide up the side of a mountain?" He rounded the corner. Heard coiled diamond back rattler. Saul looked down, squeaked, "That snake's head is bigger than my foot!" Back glued to mountain, eyes squinched tight, he called out, "Help me Jesus!" With venom dripping fangs that ancient serpent sprang, sprang over trail edge to far, far below...
Saul's eyes opened. Saw all the way to Hathaway Street and a cross topped building there...
Back in the town of Halfway, on the street of Hathaway, a shaken Saul walked thru the Door of the Church. "Hello little sheep. I've been told to expect you, Saul," greeted the Pastor from altar steps, "Have you ever considered a change of name?"
...Is Halfway to Hathaway closer than thought...
...Call out to the only way...
...JESUS...
As entertaining as this little story may be, it is no where near as awesome as the true story of Saul to Paul in the Bible... Please read Acts 9:1-20 & 13:9. The sheep and the Door & the Way are explained in John 10:1-30; 14:6; 3:16; and Romans 10:13.
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Saturday, August 31, 2013
THE FULLER'S SOAP
Sope: middle English spelling for soap, an emulsifier, bleach and cleanser.
Fuller: a craftsman who softens, bleaches, purifies and cleanses wool cloth.
Have you ever been around sheep? Sheep are not clean animals. Like a magnet to metal the thick wool of sheep attracts all sorts of impurities. That's putting it lightly. For every bit of dust stirred, every icky thing a sheep lays in not only stains, but permeates the fibers of wool. In short sheep stink. Ever wonder why Jesus calls us His sheep? Could it have something to do with the stain of stinky sin?
The Son of God came down from heaven to be born the Son of Man. To be close to us, he became one of us. What better way to communicate? What better way to show His love? Jesus also came down from heaven as both Good Shepherd and Lamb. The Shepherd calls us His sheep. Again, Jesus became one of us. Jesus the deity became a sinless man among sinful men. Jesus the Shepherd became a Lamb without blemish among a flock of dirty sheep. On the cross Jesus, the spotless Lamb, gave his own blood to wash away the blemishes of his fellow sheep. For Jesus is the Master Fuller, whose own blood is the fullers soap: that washes the wool of His sheep whiter than snow. Thankfully, Jesus clothes us in His righteousness. For no unrighteous thing, nothing with blemish, nothing with even a hint of the stain of sin enters heaven... The catch is: Jesus clothes only those who ask...
Malachi 3:2 KJ, "But who may abide the day of his coming? And who shall stand when he appeareth? For he is like a refiner's fire and fuller's sope." Jesus, the fuller's soap that purifies and cleanses the wool and hearts of all us dirty stinky, sin stained sheep... who call upon him...
Mark 10:46-52 KJ, "And they came to Jericho: and as they went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging. 47) And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus thou son of David, have mercy on me. 48)And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried out the more a great deal, Thou son of David, have mercy on me. 49)And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they call the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth. 50)And he casting away his garment, rose and came to Jesus. 51)And Jesus answered and said unto him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. 52)And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way." By faith Bartimaeus saw to cast off his garment; saw to cast off the old and receive the new; saw to put on the whiter than snow garment of salvation... Indeed, Bartimaeus not only followed on the road, but followed Jesus ...in the way... the Way, the Truth, and the Life. (Romans 10:13; 2nd Corinthians 5:17; John 14:6)
Isaiah 35:8 KJ, "And a highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The Way of Holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein." Down the road from Jericho, Jesus continued on to Bethphage and Bethany on the slope of the Mount of Olives, then unto Jerusalem. There, two of Jesus' disciples cast their garments upon the back of a never ridden donkey colt. On cast off garments Jesus sat riding, and many spread their cast off garments on the road before him. Not only did they spread their garments on the roadway in reverence to his divine royalty; but more so cast off those worldly sin stained garments, that sin and death be cast off and trodden; and that they be newly clothed in the way... clothed in the salvation and righteousness of Jesus.
Mark 11:9 KJ, "And they that went before, and they that followed, cried saying, HOSANA; BLESSED IS HE THAT COMETH IN THE NAME OF THE LORD." Hosana: from the Hebrew hoshiahnna & Greek hosanna: a cry of adoration and acclamation, and even more so a cry out, literally meaning... pray save us. So may we also be clothed: Romans 10:13 KJ, "For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved."
Isaiah 61:10 KJ, "I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and a bride adorneth herself with jewels." Jesus clothes each Christian, His church, His bride in His whiter than snow garment of salvation and robe of righteousness (Rev. 19:7-16). And you must wear His clothing and no other or be cast out of the wedding (Mat. 22:1-14).
Atop a mountain, Peter, James and John witnessed the transfiguration of Jesus: Mark 9:3 KJ, "And his raiment became shining, exceedingly white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them."
"The Fuller's Soap," the only brand of soap that gets you squeaky clean and clothes you forever in the love of... Jesus...
Fuller: a craftsman who softens, bleaches, purifies and cleanses wool cloth.
Have you ever been around sheep? Sheep are not clean animals. Like a magnet to metal the thick wool of sheep attracts all sorts of impurities. That's putting it lightly. For every bit of dust stirred, every icky thing a sheep lays in not only stains, but permeates the fibers of wool. In short sheep stink. Ever wonder why Jesus calls us His sheep? Could it have something to do with the stain of stinky sin?
The Son of God came down from heaven to be born the Son of Man. To be close to us, he became one of us. What better way to communicate? What better way to show His love? Jesus also came down from heaven as both Good Shepherd and Lamb. The Shepherd calls us His sheep. Again, Jesus became one of us. Jesus the deity became a sinless man among sinful men. Jesus the Shepherd became a Lamb without blemish among a flock of dirty sheep. On the cross Jesus, the spotless Lamb, gave his own blood to wash away the blemishes of his fellow sheep. For Jesus is the Master Fuller, whose own blood is the fullers soap: that washes the wool of His sheep whiter than snow. Thankfully, Jesus clothes us in His righteousness. For no unrighteous thing, nothing with blemish, nothing with even a hint of the stain of sin enters heaven... The catch is: Jesus clothes only those who ask...
Malachi 3:2 KJ, "But who may abide the day of his coming? And who shall stand when he appeareth? For he is like a refiner's fire and fuller's sope." Jesus, the fuller's soap that purifies and cleanses the wool and hearts of all us dirty stinky, sin stained sheep... who call upon him...
Mark 10:46-52 KJ, "And they came to Jericho: and as they went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging. 47) And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus thou son of David, have mercy on me. 48)And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried out the more a great deal, Thou son of David, have mercy on me. 49)And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they call the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth. 50)And he casting away his garment, rose and came to Jesus. 51)And Jesus answered and said unto him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. 52)And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way." By faith Bartimaeus saw to cast off his garment; saw to cast off the old and receive the new; saw to put on the whiter than snow garment of salvation... Indeed, Bartimaeus not only followed on the road, but followed Jesus ...in the way... the Way, the Truth, and the Life. (Romans 10:13; 2nd Corinthians 5:17; John 14:6)
Isaiah 35:8 KJ, "And a highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The Way of Holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein." Down the road from Jericho, Jesus continued on to Bethphage and Bethany on the slope of the Mount of Olives, then unto Jerusalem. There, two of Jesus' disciples cast their garments upon the back of a never ridden donkey colt. On cast off garments Jesus sat riding, and many spread their cast off garments on the road before him. Not only did they spread their garments on the roadway in reverence to his divine royalty; but more so cast off those worldly sin stained garments, that sin and death be cast off and trodden; and that they be newly clothed in the way... clothed in the salvation and righteousness of Jesus.
Mark 11:9 KJ, "And they that went before, and they that followed, cried saying, HOSANA; BLESSED IS HE THAT COMETH IN THE NAME OF THE LORD." Hosana: from the Hebrew hoshiahnna & Greek hosanna: a cry of adoration and acclamation, and even more so a cry out, literally meaning... pray save us. So may we also be clothed: Romans 10:13 KJ, "For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved."
Isaiah 61:10 KJ, "I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and a bride adorneth herself with jewels." Jesus clothes each Christian, His church, His bride in His whiter than snow garment of salvation and robe of righteousness (Rev. 19:7-16). And you must wear His clothing and no other or be cast out of the wedding (Mat. 22:1-14).
Atop a mountain, Peter, James and John witnessed the transfiguration of Jesus: Mark 9:3 KJ, "And his raiment became shining, exceedingly white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them."
"The Fuller's Soap," the only brand of soap that gets you squeaky clean and clothes you forever in the love of... Jesus...
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
KNOW IT ALL
Never known till it happens, what sparks may fly between two old adversaries at a reunion. Ten years had passed. The faces had changed a bit, most bodies had added a pound or two, but one thing had changed not at all: the feud between a certain two, the valedictorian and salutatorian of good old Anguish High.
Something about banquet tables invites the lonely eyed to hide in plain sight at class reunions. Hide eyes, dancing couples reflecting; hide eyes, longing to be a couple dancing. So dwelt the eyes of Matt Meeks, as he reached for punch bowl ladle, found ladle handle soft and warm. His eyes drifted from dance floor, met blue eyes not unfamiliar, the eyes of Sarah Demure. "Miss Know It All, I shoulda' known!" Matthew's hand recoiled from hers.
"Mr. Know Nothing!" Sarah countered.
"If you knew, what you think you know, you'd know better!" Matthew spewed.
"If you knew what I knew, then you'd know what I know!" Sarah chewed.
Was it something about the attraction of two opposite poled hearts; or was it planned purpose camouflaged as coincidence... the kiss twas soft?
And so it was that Saturday night reunion led to Sunday morning date. Matthew gathered Sarah from her parents' door and off to Church they went. Of course it was a neutral denomination in a neutral nearby small town, but it was Church. And so they came, and so they settled to settle down in mid neutral pew.
And after song and prayer, it seemed that directly at a certain mid pew two, the pastor stared, delivered yet another not so camouflaged coincidence of purpose, "I may not know it all, but I know our Creator, who does know it all. For at night my eyes behold the heavens, the moon and the stars, the very work of His fingers..."
There in mid pew did eyes open, turn to one another, well traces of joy filled tears.
And so it was that planned purpose of coincidence came to pass. Three children in the back yard played, while mom and dad were just a swinging in a swing made for two. Matthew and Sarah held hands while sparking neath the shade of that old oak tree, a neutral tree of course... But then again twas GOD who made them all...
In the garden one became two, that two become one...
Genesis chapter 2
The beautiful PSALM 8, a Psalm of David
The Song of Solomon, by David's Most Wise Son
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Something about banquet tables invites the lonely eyed to hide in plain sight at class reunions. Hide eyes, dancing couples reflecting; hide eyes, longing to be a couple dancing. So dwelt the eyes of Matt Meeks, as he reached for punch bowl ladle, found ladle handle soft and warm. His eyes drifted from dance floor, met blue eyes not unfamiliar, the eyes of Sarah Demure. "Miss Know It All, I shoulda' known!" Matthew's hand recoiled from hers.
"Mr. Know Nothing!" Sarah countered.
"If you knew, what you think you know, you'd know better!" Matthew spewed.
"If you knew what I knew, then you'd know what I know!" Sarah chewed.
Was it something about the attraction of two opposite poled hearts; or was it planned purpose camouflaged as coincidence... the kiss twas soft?
And so it was that Saturday night reunion led to Sunday morning date. Matthew gathered Sarah from her parents' door and off to Church they went. Of course it was a neutral denomination in a neutral nearby small town, but it was Church. And so they came, and so they settled to settle down in mid neutral pew.
And after song and prayer, it seemed that directly at a certain mid pew two, the pastor stared, delivered yet another not so camouflaged coincidence of purpose, "I may not know it all, but I know our Creator, who does know it all. For at night my eyes behold the heavens, the moon and the stars, the very work of His fingers..."
There in mid pew did eyes open, turn to one another, well traces of joy filled tears.
And so it was that planned purpose of coincidence came to pass. Three children in the back yard played, while mom and dad were just a swinging in a swing made for two. Matthew and Sarah held hands while sparking neath the shade of that old oak tree, a neutral tree of course... But then again twas GOD who made them all...
In the garden one became two, that two become one...
Genesis chapter 2
The beautiful PSALM 8, a Psalm of David
The Song of Solomon, by David's Most Wise Son
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Saturday, August 24, 2013
HIGHLY DOUBTFUL
The highly doubtful doubt just about all, except that non-existent. Seems a doubt here, a doubt there leads to doubt almost everywhere. Ends in the fear of of fear itself. In one such bed of despair, sheets tossed off for fear of something crawling there, lay lady Hylee Doubtful's disheveled hair.
Next morning suspicions lingered on in Hylee's head. "Nothing another mug of Joe can't nix," Hylee described her eight mug a day latte fix. Seemed the only thing Hylee could hold together were trembling hands round that nother mug a Joe. And even though caffeine sloshed to and fro over mug rim, Hylee brimmed, "I can quit anytime I want to. I just don't want to."
And friends, well what few friends were left, often whispered one to another, "Hylee's last name ought to be Deceitful, not Doubtful. The only thing she doesn't deny is herself another mugful."
On and on this went, till Hylee shook so bad, she hatched convoluted plan to visit Ol' Doc. Surely Doc could ease her too tightly wound clock. "What are drugs for?" Hylee thought.
In the room of examination Doc pulled stethoscope from ears, undid the pressure cuff, asked, "Hylee, how much coffee 'do' you consume in a twenty-four hour period?"
Hylee blurted, "I cut myself back to eight mugs a day!"
Doc pondered a while, then smiled, "How big are those mugs, pitcher sized?"
"No, no, not quite that big!" Hylee was caught, "A little smaller, maybe." A tear ran down twitching cheek, "I'm in big trouble, aren't I, Doc?"
"Let us review," Doc read as he wrote, "Trembling hands, facial twitches, vibrating eyes, pupils pinpoints, erosion of esophagus, stomach pain, not sleeping, not dreaming, no rest, paranoia, hallucinations," Doc drew a deep breath, "and one self deceiving heart that almost blew up my blood pressure monitor."
"I'm going to die!!" Hylee screamed!
"Panic attack," Doc added to the list. He opened the door and to passing nurse ordered, "Ambulance - stat."
Hylee survived. Graduated the Betty Fiat Christian No Mas Latte Rehabilitation Center a mere three months later. For Hylee had finally asked Jesus to cast out all doubt and bless her with fearless spirit.
To this day, to all who will listen, Hylee does say, "Let not the heart plead innocent, when the spirit knows better. Look to Jesus and find peace..."
Jeremiah 17:9; Matthew 7:7-8; 11:28-30
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Next morning suspicions lingered on in Hylee's head. "Nothing another mug of Joe can't nix," Hylee described her eight mug a day latte fix. Seemed the only thing Hylee could hold together were trembling hands round that nother mug a Joe. And even though caffeine sloshed to and fro over mug rim, Hylee brimmed, "I can quit anytime I want to. I just don't want to."
And friends, well what few friends were left, often whispered one to another, "Hylee's last name ought to be Deceitful, not Doubtful. The only thing she doesn't deny is herself another mugful."
On and on this went, till Hylee shook so bad, she hatched convoluted plan to visit Ol' Doc. Surely Doc could ease her too tightly wound clock. "What are drugs for?" Hylee thought.
In the room of examination Doc pulled stethoscope from ears, undid the pressure cuff, asked, "Hylee, how much coffee 'do' you consume in a twenty-four hour period?"
Hylee blurted, "I cut myself back to eight mugs a day!"
Doc pondered a while, then smiled, "How big are those mugs, pitcher sized?"
"No, no, not quite that big!" Hylee was caught, "A little smaller, maybe." A tear ran down twitching cheek, "I'm in big trouble, aren't I, Doc?"
"Let us review," Doc read as he wrote, "Trembling hands, facial twitches, vibrating eyes, pupils pinpoints, erosion of esophagus, stomach pain, not sleeping, not dreaming, no rest, paranoia, hallucinations," Doc drew a deep breath, "and one self deceiving heart that almost blew up my blood pressure monitor."
"I'm going to die!!" Hylee screamed!
"Panic attack," Doc added to the list. He opened the door and to passing nurse ordered, "Ambulance - stat."
Hylee survived. Graduated the Betty Fiat Christian No Mas Latte Rehabilitation Center a mere three months later. For Hylee had finally asked Jesus to cast out all doubt and bless her with fearless spirit.
To this day, to all who will listen, Hylee does say, "Let not the heart plead innocent, when the spirit knows better. Look to Jesus and find peace..."
Jeremiah 17:9; Matthew 7:7-8; 11:28-30
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Saturday, August 17, 2013
NAPE OF NECK
As wives do, Grace sensed something amiss. Knew the brain of hubby Bernie be boredom bent.
Bernie R. Beorde knew it all too well as well. Seemed no thing and no one anymore rang his bell. Many in the shoes of Bernie would sport a story of infidelity not to tell, but Bernie figured it'd be just one more boring temporary spell. "Besides," he thought, he smiled, "I do so love my Grace." So Bernie puttered on with life. "Better to putter than not putter at all," Bernie smiled at only semi-lamentful life crawl.
Till one Sunday sunny, while he and Grace were getting ready for church, from the TV set the preacher proclaimed, "The nape of the neck shines forth attitude. So why emit stiff necked ingratitude? The nape of the neck reveals who we are; even more so shines whose we are."
Curiosity pricked, Bernie decided to explore; opened the Bible, entered sacred door; then through the window to the soul named Proverbs, his eyes did soar, "Remember our Creator that wisdom and discretion sow 'grace to thy neck' and life to thy soul."
And Bernie thought, "What does this mean?"
So it was that the slow puttering of Bernie caused him and Grace to be late for church. Thus they seated three rows from the back. For already all stood standing, praiseful song lifting, bodies swaying in the dance of grace. Bernie sang too, even added a sway or two, when the Lord drew his eyes to next pew. Drew eyes to a little girl's hair pulled back save soft singular curl on right side of nape of neck. And Bernie thought, "How precious..."
Then the Lord reached out; lifted Bernie's eyes to see all about. See the napes of the necks of fathers, of mothers, of children, of the old and of the new. And Bernie saw... beautiful and bright each life of light... Saw whose they really are... each light of Spirit... each light of soul...
And the river of each life light, all that made them who they are, their rivers of light swept over and through him. His breath left him. He was drowning in too much to bear. He sank to his chair. Bernie whispered, "Take it from me, Lord... Yet, so beautiful... Just a little while longer, Lord." And again he stood, as his tears flowed with the flood of beautiful lights.
From then on the nape of the neck of Bernie Beorde shined forever more never bored.
...By the light of Jesus, the neck receives grace...
...By the nape of the neck, your light is shown...
...You are wonderfully and fearfully made...
(Please note this little story is very closely based on an awesome, not so long ago, real life event... You just never know what blessing awaits, while praising God...)
Proverbs 3:1-4 & 5-8; also 19-22 & 23-24 KJV
Bernie R. Beorde knew it all too well as well. Seemed no thing and no one anymore rang his bell. Many in the shoes of Bernie would sport a story of infidelity not to tell, but Bernie figured it'd be just one more boring temporary spell. "Besides," he thought, he smiled, "I do so love my Grace." So Bernie puttered on with life. "Better to putter than not putter at all," Bernie smiled at only semi-lamentful life crawl.
Till one Sunday sunny, while he and Grace were getting ready for church, from the TV set the preacher proclaimed, "The nape of the neck shines forth attitude. So why emit stiff necked ingratitude? The nape of the neck reveals who we are; even more so shines whose we are."
Curiosity pricked, Bernie decided to explore; opened the Bible, entered sacred door; then through the window to the soul named Proverbs, his eyes did soar, "Remember our Creator that wisdom and discretion sow 'grace to thy neck' and life to thy soul."
And Bernie thought, "What does this mean?"
So it was that the slow puttering of Bernie caused him and Grace to be late for church. Thus they seated three rows from the back. For already all stood standing, praiseful song lifting, bodies swaying in the dance of grace. Bernie sang too, even added a sway or two, when the Lord drew his eyes to next pew. Drew eyes to a little girl's hair pulled back save soft singular curl on right side of nape of neck. And Bernie thought, "How precious..."
Then the Lord reached out; lifted Bernie's eyes to see all about. See the napes of the necks of fathers, of mothers, of children, of the old and of the new. And Bernie saw... beautiful and bright each life of light... Saw whose they really are... each light of Spirit... each light of soul...
And the river of each life light, all that made them who they are, their rivers of light swept over and through him. His breath left him. He was drowning in too much to bear. He sank to his chair. Bernie whispered, "Take it from me, Lord... Yet, so beautiful... Just a little while longer, Lord." And again he stood, as his tears flowed with the flood of beautiful lights.
From then on the nape of the neck of Bernie Beorde shined forever more never bored.
...By the light of Jesus, the neck receives grace...
...By the nape of the neck, your light is shown...
...You are wonderfully and fearfully made...
(Please note this little story is very closely based on an awesome, not so long ago, real life event... You just never know what blessing awaits, while praising God...)
Proverbs 3:1-4 & 5-8; also 19-22 & 23-24 KJV
John 1:1-4; 8:12; 12:36; 1st John 4:17
Psalm 139:14
Saturday, August 3, 2013
RICH YET POOR
Not so long ago in Texas land, the rich yet poor visited home. Few in the town of Blessing did not know Lashlee Whippitt, whose name just about said it all; for as small towns go, the life story of any dwelled not afar. Otherwise said, all the wise knew what was not new with Lashlee Whippitt. For alas this poor rich lass had traded-in her name of birth for that of a country star in Austin's big city lights.
Yet, twas for blessed reason that the lips of Blessing folk remembered Lashlee Whippitt by her given name, Mercy Ann Love. But seemed every time so greeted as Mercy or Miss Love, a grimace un-graced the pouty lips of that otherwise beautiful young lady.
And so came the day, all would forever pay, or so schemed the tell them all off mind of Miss Whippitt. Miss Whippitt, who drove in four wheel drive her Cadillac truck over the curb into the drive of the Hotel Blessing. The Hotel Blessing where all are welcome to share the meal of high noon.
Mini whirlwinds whipped the parking lot dust in the wake of each flip-flop flip. And on way to the Hotel dinning room door, Lashlee's brain spit flame, "Never will anyone ever, no not never, call me Mercy nor Love, not never again!"
Now at the Hotel Blessing it is serve yourself, all you can eat, down home cooking, kept warm in kettles atop a row of antique stoves. And in line you stand with friends and neighbors, for in the Hotel Blessing all are neighbors, no matter where from, no matter how far traveled.
And in the line of waiting, pretty pink painted toenail toes strummed flip-flop soles, till time to fill the plate. And oh did she wait for it, wait for it with spite, ready to pounce if cheerfully greeted, when that awful name of birth be repeated.
"Well hi, Miss Mercy Ann Love. Why this very morning on KICK radio, I was just listening to you coo like a dove. That new song of yours is so..." interrupted in mid complement was an in line neighbor named Angel.
"My name is Lashlee! Don't ever, no not never, never, never ever call me Mercy nor Love again! I hate that stupid name." Lashlee Whippitt blew flame.
"Oh Miss Love! I didn't mean no harm. I, well actually most all folks in this little ol' town call you Miss Mercy Ann Love, cause we love our sweet home grown girl. We just love you, for being you. No matter how successful you are... no matter how far you go... you stay in our hearts... Why heavens! We love you, like Jesus loves us."
And love filled tears put out the flames of un-loved fears in the heart of Miss Mercy Ann Love, as she hugged her Blessing Angel. And from the rest of the waiting line, and from across every dining table, from every heart of neighbor flowed love for Miss Love. Miss Mercy Ann Love... once rich yet poor... was poor no more...
And so was that not so long ago of every day... at the Hotel Blessing...
Three weeks later Lashlee Whippitt vanished from Austin city neon light; that there instead the name Mercy Ann Love shine so bright...
John 15:12; Proverbs 22:1-2
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Yet, twas for blessed reason that the lips of Blessing folk remembered Lashlee Whippitt by her given name, Mercy Ann Love. But seemed every time so greeted as Mercy or Miss Love, a grimace un-graced the pouty lips of that otherwise beautiful young lady.
And so came the day, all would forever pay, or so schemed the tell them all off mind of Miss Whippitt. Miss Whippitt, who drove in four wheel drive her Cadillac truck over the curb into the drive of the Hotel Blessing. The Hotel Blessing where all are welcome to share the meal of high noon.
Mini whirlwinds whipped the parking lot dust in the wake of each flip-flop flip. And on way to the Hotel dinning room door, Lashlee's brain spit flame, "Never will anyone ever, no not never, call me Mercy nor Love, not never again!"
Now at the Hotel Blessing it is serve yourself, all you can eat, down home cooking, kept warm in kettles atop a row of antique stoves. And in line you stand with friends and neighbors, for in the Hotel Blessing all are neighbors, no matter where from, no matter how far traveled.
And in the line of waiting, pretty pink painted toenail toes strummed flip-flop soles, till time to fill the plate. And oh did she wait for it, wait for it with spite, ready to pounce if cheerfully greeted, when that awful name of birth be repeated.
"Well hi, Miss Mercy Ann Love. Why this very morning on KICK radio, I was just listening to you coo like a dove. That new song of yours is so..." interrupted in mid complement was an in line neighbor named Angel.
"My name is Lashlee! Don't ever, no not never, never, never ever call me Mercy nor Love again! I hate that stupid name." Lashlee Whippitt blew flame.
"Oh Miss Love! I didn't mean no harm. I, well actually most all folks in this little ol' town call you Miss Mercy Ann Love, cause we love our sweet home grown girl. We just love you, for being you. No matter how successful you are... no matter how far you go... you stay in our hearts... Why heavens! We love you, like Jesus loves us."
And love filled tears put out the flames of un-loved fears in the heart of Miss Mercy Ann Love, as she hugged her Blessing Angel. And from the rest of the waiting line, and from across every dining table, from every heart of neighbor flowed love for Miss Love. Miss Mercy Ann Love... once rich yet poor... was poor no more...
And so was that not so long ago of every day... at the Hotel Blessing...
Three weeks later Lashlee Whippitt vanished from Austin city neon light; that there instead the name Mercy Ann Love shine so bright...
John 15:12; Proverbs 22:1-2
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
CHURNING MILK TO BUTTER
In a mountain land, on the outskirts of the hamlet Creme, seven days a week the duties of the milk maid, Collette did keep. Collette Ann Gemm, a pretty lass with an un-pretty limp, tended not one but two cows of moo, while their cud they did chew. But alas poor lass as her hands grew strong, sore leg did not.
And it came to pass on a sun lit day that Collette Ann Gemm sat on front porch, churning sweet milk, while chatting with a little neighbor boy. And when that neighbor boy saw coming down dirt street the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray; he spat out, "Oh no! Here comes the Bully Ray!"
Too late he turned to run. In thumb and fore finger the Bully Ray had his ear. "Time to lick my boot, neighbor boy!" And the boy wept while being by ear pulled down to dusty boot. "That's it!" Bully Ray leered, "More, more tears to wash my boot!"
"Leave him be!" From her stool Collette laid law, "In the name of Jesus, leave him be!!!"
And ear let loose neighbor boy ran, as the Bully Ray stepped up upon that porch, brought his nose o' so close to the nose of the milk maid, Collette Ann Gemm. And Bully Ray growled, "Well, little gimp legged gal, just how are you going to stop me now?"
Not a beat of the churn did the milk maid skip. One hand pumped churn, one hand shot out, vise gripped the nose of the Bully Ray. O' how the pain made him pay. And from the throat of the graceful neck of Collette poured forth these words, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay!!!"
Too paralyzed to comply, blood dripped down from the nose of Bully Ray.
Still clamped on to that nose astray, Collette repeated, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay." And this time he did obey. Then, Collette the Good Book did say, "As surely as the churning of milk brings forth butter; so does the wringing of the nose bring forth blood. Why force wrath to bring forth pain? You need Jesus." And she let go. And down backed the Bully Ray; and on porch steps left tears mixed blood...
So the town folk wondered at the disappearance of the Bully Ray. For far, far gone was that old Bully Ray; and home come home was the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray. Oh what a day... when apology he did pay to a certain little neighbor boy...
Twas on a sun lit Sunday morn three weeks later, William Ray scooted onto a pew next to a certain milk maid. A maid whose grimace but in a little while, faded to smile. A fair maid named Collette Ann Gemm, whose strong yet graceful hand... glided long that wood seat pew... found the hand of that new found man... William Ray...
...On a ring the collet is the ferrule into which the gem is clasped...
...Collette Ann Gemm both collet and gem... ...A Keeper of the Faith...
Proverbs 30:32-33
And it came to pass on a sun lit day that Collette Ann Gemm sat on front porch, churning sweet milk, while chatting with a little neighbor boy. And when that neighbor boy saw coming down dirt street the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray; he spat out, "Oh no! Here comes the Bully Ray!"
Too late he turned to run. In thumb and fore finger the Bully Ray had his ear. "Time to lick my boot, neighbor boy!" And the boy wept while being by ear pulled down to dusty boot. "That's it!" Bully Ray leered, "More, more tears to wash my boot!"
"Leave him be!" From her stool Collette laid law, "In the name of Jesus, leave him be!!!"
And ear let loose neighbor boy ran, as the Bully Ray stepped up upon that porch, brought his nose o' so close to the nose of the milk maid, Collette Ann Gemm. And Bully Ray growled, "Well, little gimp legged gal, just how are you going to stop me now?"
Not a beat of the churn did the milk maid skip. One hand pumped churn, one hand shot out, vise gripped the nose of the Bully Ray. O' how the pain made him pay. And from the throat of the graceful neck of Collette poured forth these words, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay!!!"
Too paralyzed to comply, blood dripped down from the nose of Bully Ray.
Still clamped on to that nose astray, Collette repeated, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay." And this time he did obey. Then, Collette the Good Book did say, "As surely as the churning of milk brings forth butter; so does the wringing of the nose bring forth blood. Why force wrath to bring forth pain? You need Jesus." And she let go. And down backed the Bully Ray; and on porch steps left tears mixed blood...
So the town folk wondered at the disappearance of the Bully Ray. For far, far gone was that old Bully Ray; and home come home was the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray. Oh what a day... when apology he did pay to a certain little neighbor boy...
Twas on a sun lit Sunday morn three weeks later, William Ray scooted onto a pew next to a certain milk maid. A maid whose grimace but in a little while, faded to smile. A fair maid named Collette Ann Gemm, whose strong yet graceful hand... glided long that wood seat pew... found the hand of that new found man... William Ray...
...On a ring the collet is the ferrule into which the gem is clasped...
...Collette Ann Gemm both collet and gem... ...A Keeper of the Faith...
Proverbs 30:32-33
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
CLOUDS AND WIND WITHOUT RAIN
Once upon a time in the Land of Allegory plowed the lives of Les and Mora Lister. Well, at least Mora plowed. Mora taught children at church, visited the elderly and never counted any in need other than a friend in deed. For Mora Lister was in all deed a planter of God's seed, Jesus. But other than owning Les Lister's Farm Equipment, the only thing Les plowed was a deep furrow in the den easy chair with TV remote in hand. And from that denly throne with electronic scepter in hand, Les Lister thundered an endless stream of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas,' promises like clouds and wind without rain. Oh sure, he even went to church; but, "Good for business," was Les Lister's aim of gain.
And it came to be, one certain Sunday, that a peculiar young lad skipped to a seat down the main aisle of sanctuary. Yet short of his intended roost, that lad stopped in mid skip at the seats of Les and Mora. There, that odd lad turned head and said, "If less was more, you'd be truly great, Mr. Les Lister."
As the lad joined family three rows up, in full scowl Mr. Lister envisioned violent chastisement of the posterior kind. While wife Mora thought, "Moral crowbars may seem cruel, but be necessary."
Through time of announcements, hymn and prayer the ruffled feathers of Les Lister had just about smoothed out, when the preacher stepped up. Then the Good Book he opened up, "Proverbs 25:14 KJ, Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain." And Les Lister felt burn these words of the preacher, "Why trade empty promise for gain? Why gain the whole world and lose your soul? Be not the sounding brass of vanity without love. Heed the Epistle of Jude 12 &13 NIV, "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm, shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees without fruit, and uprooted, twice dead. 13)They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
On that certain Sunday evening after church, at home in the den Les Lister plowed in a very un-easy chair, contemplating, "Am I just too lazy to love others, or worse?" Les reached for the remote on the side table, but in its place lay planted wife Mora's moral crowbar: an open dictionary with bright highlight. Mr. Lister picked it up, then read the very definition of his purpose: lister - a double moldboard plow often equipped with attachments to stir the subsoil of rain limited land and plant seeds in a furrow. Upon that very page of his purpose, rain fell from the eyes of Mr. Lister... a new born cloud with rain... for in that moment Mr. Lister became the same as his name... became that plow stirring the soil and planting the seed of Jesus...
Like the allegorical Mr. Les Lister may we all see by the love of God above to escape the pit of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas;' even avoid empty promises for gain. Nor may we be the rainless clouds of tomorrow, drifting in the winds of lost opportunity. For is there not a time to sow and a time to reap? (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2; Isaiah 28:24-26)
For behold the days will come, when faithful plowman and Almighty Harvester shall be one in the Edenic abundance of hills, overflowing with the fruit of the vine of Jesus (John 15:1-17). Therefore, plow in hope and be partakers in hope... For he that watereth shall be watered also... Rain the love of Jesus... As Jesus rains love upon us...
...Plow in all hope...
Please share "Clouds and Wind Without Rain," that all see to do & to be clouds of Jesus' abundant rain.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
And it came to be, one certain Sunday, that a peculiar young lad skipped to a seat down the main aisle of sanctuary. Yet short of his intended roost, that lad stopped in mid skip at the seats of Les and Mora. There, that odd lad turned head and said, "If less was more, you'd be truly great, Mr. Les Lister."
As the lad joined family three rows up, in full scowl Mr. Lister envisioned violent chastisement of the posterior kind. While wife Mora thought, "Moral crowbars may seem cruel, but be necessary."
Through time of announcements, hymn and prayer the ruffled feathers of Les Lister had just about smoothed out, when the preacher stepped up. Then the Good Book he opened up, "Proverbs 25:14 KJ, Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain." And Les Lister felt burn these words of the preacher, "Why trade empty promise for gain? Why gain the whole world and lose your soul? Be not the sounding brass of vanity without love. Heed the Epistle of Jude 12 &13 NIV, "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm, shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees without fruit, and uprooted, twice dead. 13)They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
On that certain Sunday evening after church, at home in the den Les Lister plowed in a very un-easy chair, contemplating, "Am I just too lazy to love others, or worse?" Les reached for the remote on the side table, but in its place lay planted wife Mora's moral crowbar: an open dictionary with bright highlight. Mr. Lister picked it up, then read the very definition of his purpose: lister - a double moldboard plow often equipped with attachments to stir the subsoil of rain limited land and plant seeds in a furrow. Upon that very page of his purpose, rain fell from the eyes of Mr. Lister... a new born cloud with rain... for in that moment Mr. Lister became the same as his name... became that plow stirring the soil and planting the seed of Jesus...
Like the allegorical Mr. Les Lister may we all see by the love of God above to escape the pit of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas;' even avoid empty promises for gain. Nor may we be the rainless clouds of tomorrow, drifting in the winds of lost opportunity. For is there not a time to sow and a time to reap? (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2; Isaiah 28:24-26)
For behold the days will come, when faithful plowman and Almighty Harvester shall be one in the Edenic abundance of hills, overflowing with the fruit of the vine of Jesus (John 15:1-17). Therefore, plow in hope and be partakers in hope... For he that watereth shall be watered also... Rain the love of Jesus... As Jesus rains love upon us...
...Plow in all hope...
Please share "Clouds and Wind Without Rain," that all see to do & to be clouds of Jesus' abundant rain.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
DRINK OF LIVING WATER
One day in July 2008... A story true...
Swimming in fresh sheets in the morning of a fresh new day, sleep never felt so good. With sweet singing of birds in ear, my eyes awoke to swaying banana leaves outside the window. And the light, so bright, much brighter than normal for an early morning work day... "Work day! WORK DAY!! 7:40AM! I've got to be there by eight! It's a 30 plus minute drive!" Fresh panic!
How many times can a grown man put his leg in the wrong leg of a pair of pants? And have you ever noticed how impossible it is to put on a sock when having one of those days? Well I finally took one last stab at getting that sock straight. The heel of the sock wound up on the side of the ankle. Shoe got stuffed on anyway. Grabbed a shirt and vainly trying to button up was running out the front door... when it hit me: I had not yet read a scripture nor prayed to start the day.
Back in the bedroom , I started to open the Bible, hesitated, remembered to first ask in Jesus name for understanding, then opened The Word. Psalm 42: 1-2 KJ, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 2)My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" His awesomeness swept over me. I thanked Him in the name of Jesus.
But the specter of work loomed. Late for work! Late for work! I now had less than 10 minutes to make a 30 plus minute trip. And as I again sped through that front door, still trying to button up that ornery shirt, and contemplating buying nothing but pull over shirts from now on... I was smiling... Something not usual for a grumpy old man... Who was now even later for work...
So I ran to the car, actually it was more of a brisk walk (old man knees), and plunked my rear in the car seat... still smiling... actually happy... even though late for work...
Driving along sunny Hwy 35, after praying those usual prayers one prays daily, Psalm 42:1-2 again flooded my mind, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: When shall I come and appear before God?" Immediately I began to dwell on another scripture, one in which Jesus reveals who he is to a certain Samaritan woman at Jacobs well: John 4:13-14 KJ, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: 14)But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
And there I was in the car just past Markham on the road to Bay City when... a feeling of awesome joy swept over me and into me, filled the car all around me and yet sat in the seat beside me. And the Lord began to give me a little song... My first thought, "Thank you Heavenly Father!" My second thought, "I'll never remember the words." Frantically I fumbled for pen and paper and squeaked, "Wait Lord, please wait!" Then thought quite correctly, "You dummy, you don't tell God to wait! Please forgive me, Lord, and keep it coming." And faster and faster the words came. Eyes glued to the road I wrote as fast as I could. Scribbled word and line one on top of another all around the page... And then it happened... I began to chuckle... God was tickling his child... That'll teach me... Mr. Late For Work... Mr. Hurry Hurry Hurry, alias Late For Work... Like a Father tickles his child He had me laughing...
Too soon the car entered work's parking lot, a parking lot curiously, very curiously dark. I was more than puzzled, even disoriented. I had left broad day light at home and traveled twenty two miles... there should have been more light, not less.
And the employees parking lot should have been full, not empty save one other solitary car. "Where is everybody?" I thought, "I'm late. Is everyone else late too?" I opened the back door of the building; entered cold utter darkness; flipped on the hall way light; entered restroom, and washed my face. But washing my face did not wash away the confusion, a whimsical confusion, but still confusion. And why was I smiling? Back in the hallway I opened the next door to the main room; more darkness except for one little desk light in the back. Delores was entering a backlog of had to be done yesterday data on her computer.
I quietly sat down at my desk. Paused for a bit trying to make sense of what was happening. It took a while, a long while for the computer to warm up. Its light popped on. Lower right hand corner of screen said: 8:01 am... What
The Song: DRINK OF LIVING WATER
Drink of living water
Fresh from the Lord above
Blessed by the breath of the dove
And filled with Jesus love
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Use me as you will
Lost hearts to tend and heal
You are my Father still
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Psalm 42:1&2
Isaiah 38:7&8
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Swimming in fresh sheets in the morning of a fresh new day, sleep never felt so good. With sweet singing of birds in ear, my eyes awoke to swaying banana leaves outside the window. And the light, so bright, much brighter than normal for an early morning work day... "Work day! WORK DAY!! 7:40AM! I've got to be there by eight! It's a 30 plus minute drive!" Fresh panic!
How many times can a grown man put his leg in the wrong leg of a pair of pants? And have you ever noticed how impossible it is to put on a sock when having one of those days? Well I finally took one last stab at getting that sock straight. The heel of the sock wound up on the side of the ankle. Shoe got stuffed on anyway. Grabbed a shirt and vainly trying to button up was running out the front door... when it hit me: I had not yet read a scripture nor prayed to start the day.
Back in the bedroom , I started to open the Bible, hesitated, remembered to first ask in Jesus name for understanding, then opened The Word. Psalm 42: 1-2 KJ, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 2)My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" His awesomeness swept over me. I thanked Him in the name of Jesus.
But the specter of work loomed. Late for work! Late for work! I now had less than 10 minutes to make a 30 plus minute trip. And as I again sped through that front door, still trying to button up that ornery shirt, and contemplating buying nothing but pull over shirts from now on... I was smiling... Something not usual for a grumpy old man... Who was now even later for work...
So I ran to the car, actually it was more of a brisk walk (old man knees), and plunked my rear in the car seat... still smiling... actually happy... even though late for work...
Driving along sunny Hwy 35, after praying those usual prayers one prays daily, Psalm 42:1-2 again flooded my mind, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: When shall I come and appear before God?" Immediately I began to dwell on another scripture, one in which Jesus reveals who he is to a certain Samaritan woman at Jacobs well: John 4:13-14 KJ, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: 14)But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
And there I was in the car just past Markham on the road to Bay City when... a feeling of awesome joy swept over me and into me, filled the car all around me and yet sat in the seat beside me. And the Lord began to give me a little song... My first thought, "Thank you Heavenly Father!" My second thought, "I'll never remember the words." Frantically I fumbled for pen and paper and squeaked, "Wait Lord, please wait!" Then thought quite correctly, "You dummy, you don't tell God to wait! Please forgive me, Lord, and keep it coming." And faster and faster the words came. Eyes glued to the road I wrote as fast as I could. Scribbled word and line one on top of another all around the page... And then it happened... I began to chuckle... God was tickling his child... That'll teach me... Mr. Late For Work... Mr. Hurry Hurry Hurry, alias Late For Work... Like a Father tickles his child He had me laughing...
Too soon the car entered work's parking lot, a parking lot curiously, very curiously dark. I was more than puzzled, even disoriented. I had left broad day light at home and traveled twenty two miles... there should have been more light, not less.
And the employees parking lot should have been full, not empty save one other solitary car. "Where is everybody?" I thought, "I'm late. Is everyone else late too?" I opened the back door of the building; entered cold utter darkness; flipped on the hall way light; entered restroom, and washed my face. But washing my face did not wash away the confusion, a whimsical confusion, but still confusion. And why was I smiling? Back in the hallway I opened the next door to the main room; more darkness except for one little desk light in the back. Delores was entering a backlog of had to be done yesterday data on her computer.
I quietly sat down at my desk. Paused for a bit trying to make sense of what was happening. It took a while, a long while for the computer to warm up. Its light popped on. Lower right hand corner of screen said: 8:01 am... What
The Song: DRINK OF LIVING WATER
Drink of living water
Fresh from the Lord above
Blessed by the breath of the dove
And filled with Jesus love
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Use me as you will
Lost hearts to tend and heal
You are my Father still
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Psalm 42:1&2
Isaiah 38:7&8
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Sunday, June 23, 2013
SHOWDOWN AT THE BLESSING STORE
Weathered board creaked under boot of old rancher as he stepped out on porch. Crisp autumn morn greeted the steam of breath. Red sunrise streamed through clouds of eastern sky. The last of what once was many green and red throated humming birds flitted among the flowers. The old rancher said a prayer of gratitude to the Lord. Yet, as the rooster crowed, off the porch the old rancher stepped, his boot struck ground, his face hardened to flint, for it was time; time to head for town and the big showdown.
So easily churned, so easily stirred still waters. Old scars run deep, new wounds their promise to keep. His mind for a time fought the flow; but the tempest swelled, the waves of sorrow did grow. Like a miserable and pregnant momma cat, he pfffttted and weeooowed and clawed inner walls of his skull. Every sad thing was dredged from the pit of his mind, filled the frown of his brow. Neath the falling leaves of a hackberry tree, he yanked open the door of that old pickup truck, climbed aboard that one way ticket to town and the big showdown.
Hacked off and ranting on down that road of self goad, the mange of his brain bled and bred the cult of self pity. The fire flared, fed of the fuel from the well of hell. What demons hackled; how they howled; what sea of glee did Satan see in his waves of sorrow; as that old cowboy headed for the end of town and the big showdown.
Twas in front of the Blessing Store that truck tires stirred the sour dust of the lot. While neath the brim of his hat that old cowboy still frowned, still drowned, sinking down deeper to dark thoughts keeper. And that devilish keeper leered, musing how well man has no problem, needs little to no prodding to send his mind to pity filled hell. And that old cowboy exited the truck and stared head long at the headline news from the rag in the box neath the wings of the Blessing Store. Two quarters he put into the slot of bad news, pulled open the portal to gloom, the door to doom; took from it the newspaper, closed that bleak door, and neath his armpit that well of hell did store. And the devil hopped in gleeful delight, that tomorrow's rag would tell the tale of what had happened at the end of town and the big showdown.
Through swinging double door, dusty cowboy boots walked that there floor, and in them the feet of him from whom acid did stem. To the meat counter he went, bacon and bloody hamburger his bent. Then away to to the line of waiting his boots he sent; and there in that line stood a man of Mexican descent. To him that Mexican man said, "Good morning, preacher. How are you today?"
And the lady behind the cash register with mile wide smile chimed in, "Good morning, preacher man!"
Then what had been, he chalked up to sin; looked up to heaven, let forgiveness in. And not from keeping up appearances, nor from inner embarrassment did the old cowboy plow; but from the root neath his brow, and from his heart escaped the blessed now, that this day held a journey of joy... Because in an instant, that old cowboy, that preacher boy, realized that he loved those precious Christian folk more than himself. And so did Satan lose, that day at the Blessing Store... in Blessing town... at the big showdown...
And the very next day that preacher boy, that old cowboy, did go back and thank them for what they had done... on that day of blessings... at the Blessing Store... in Blessing town... for with Jesus even the weak and broken heart... found triumph at the big showdown...
Deuteronomy 28:8 KJ, "The Lord shall command the blessing upon thee in thy storehouses, and all that thou settest thy hand unto; and he shall bless thee in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee."
If "Showdown at the Blessing Store" will be a blessing in the storehouse of any waiting at the check-out line of life; please add to their grocery cart. And remind them with a gentle smile: We all got to pay-up sometime.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
THE LEAST OF THESE
The Lord is persistent. For many days the Lord echoed the words ...the least of these... through my little pea brain. I began to make notes from the Bible and found more than a few passages concerning 'the least of these'. But Matthew 25 verse 40 captured my heart. I thought what a wonderful message for us all. However, time was limited for my beloved wife lay in an ICU bed at Memorial Herman Hospital.
Praise the Lord God! Prayers answered! Wife got better. Well enough to hold hands while treading the beautiful historic section of the hospital built in 1925. And there in the architecture of old we beheld 'the main supporting pillar'. And embedded in that marble pillar a bronze plaque, where it is written founder George H. Herman's driving inspiration... and my minds echo... Matthew chapter 25 verse 40: "And the King shall answer and say to them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of 'the least of these' my bretheren, ye have done it unto me."
On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. God is love. So does God command us to be love... by loving even the least of these. Jesus tells us to #1 love God and #2 love our neighbor; and that these two commandments fulfill the ten commandments of the law of the prophets. On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. Love God and love thy neighbor: the central pillar. The bronze plaque upon that pillar: love even the least of your neighbors and so do you love also the Son of Father God, the King Christ Jesus. (Matthew 22:37-40 & 5:17)
The least of these... Jesus speaks in Matthew 25:34-40, "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35)For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36)Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 37)Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38)When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39)Or saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? 40)And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me." The least of these... (also in Isaiah 58:6-11)
The least of these... By the grace of God that is Christ Jesus, those who serve in love with no thought for self, inherit the kingdom of heaven. Jesus has prepared a mansion there for each and every one, who shares his love even unto... the least of these... (Mark 9:41; John 14:1-3)
The least of these... the least of these: So do we honor our Father God with acts of mercy. Acts of mercy should be every day. Acts of mercy should become our very nature; love our very being; serving where ever service is needed. Make habit the serving of the least of these... For we reflect God's love and glorify Him by loving the least of these... When we hug even the least of these... So do we hug Jesus... What joy to hug our King... Can you imagine his joy in hugging you...
Why are the least of these: the child, the poor, the wretched, the criminal, the sinner, you, me, the least of all society; why are even the least of these who are last; why do the least of these become first in the kingdom (Mt. 19:30). Why? Because the least of these, who is forgiven much, loves much (Luke 7:47). Because for the least of these, God's grace is sufficient and His strength made perfect in weakness (2nd Cor. 12:9). Because Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners, you and me, the least of these to repentance (Mt. 9:13). When even the least of these truly determine to love Jesus... the power of God fills them... God's purpose to fulfill... So are the least of these the love of God...
The most urgent problem many face is not knowing how much they are loved... Tell them... Hug them... Today... Be the arms of Jesus...
Sharon &Forrest love you. Please share...
Praise the Lord God! Prayers answered! Wife got better. Well enough to hold hands while treading the beautiful historic section of the hospital built in 1925. And there in the architecture of old we beheld 'the main supporting pillar'. And embedded in that marble pillar a bronze plaque, where it is written founder George H. Herman's driving inspiration... and my minds echo... Matthew chapter 25 verse 40: "And the King shall answer and say to them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of 'the least of these' my bretheren, ye have done it unto me."
On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. God is love. So does God command us to be love... by loving even the least of these. Jesus tells us to #1 love God and #2 love our neighbor; and that these two commandments fulfill the ten commandments of the law of the prophets. On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. Love God and love thy neighbor: the central pillar. The bronze plaque upon that pillar: love even the least of your neighbors and so do you love also the Son of Father God, the King Christ Jesus. (Matthew 22:37-40 & 5:17)
The least of these... Jesus speaks in Matthew 25:34-40, "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35)For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36)Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 37)Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38)When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39)Or saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? 40)And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me." The least of these... (also in Isaiah 58:6-11)
The least of these... By the grace of God that is Christ Jesus, those who serve in love with no thought for self, inherit the kingdom of heaven. Jesus has prepared a mansion there for each and every one, who shares his love even unto... the least of these... (Mark 9:41; John 14:1-3)
The least of these... the least of these: So do we honor our Father God with acts of mercy. Acts of mercy should be every day. Acts of mercy should become our very nature; love our very being; serving where ever service is needed. Make habit the serving of the least of these... For we reflect God's love and glorify Him by loving the least of these... When we hug even the least of these... So do we hug Jesus... What joy to hug our King... Can you imagine his joy in hugging you...
Why are the least of these: the child, the poor, the wretched, the criminal, the sinner, you, me, the least of all society; why are even the least of these who are last; why do the least of these become first in the kingdom (Mt. 19:30). Why? Because the least of these, who is forgiven much, loves much (Luke 7:47). Because for the least of these, God's grace is sufficient and His strength made perfect in weakness (2nd Cor. 12:9). Because Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners, you and me, the least of these to repentance (Mt. 9:13). When even the least of these truly determine to love Jesus... the power of God fills them... God's purpose to fulfill... So are the least of these the love of God...
The most urgent problem many face is not knowing how much they are loved... Tell them... Hug them... Today... Be the arms of Jesus...
Sharon &Forrest love you. Please share...
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