BACK PORCH NOSTALGIA

            With bowlful of reheated leftovers in hand, Skip escaped into the night air of the back porch and called, "Nostalgia!  Here Girl!  Here Nostalgia!"  No rustle of familiar paws came running.  Nostalgia was being stubborn.  Skip settled back to wait in that old back porch rocking chair.  He sat the cooling leftovers down on weathered porch planks.  In a cloud of wist Skip wondered, "Where can Nostalgia be?"  Then with tear in eye, he remembered, whispered, "Nostalgia is gone.  Been gone a long time.  Too long to call her back.  And even if it wasn't, she'd just run away again."

            Truth be, a lot of things had run away from Skip.  His job, reputation, possibly his sanity, and for sure the one he loved, all slipped away.  Gone for a lot of reasons.  But most of all because Skip held on too tight.  Squeezed the life right out of all close.  Till none but that old empty house was left... with its back porch... and rocking chair... in the night air... and now even nostalgia was ebbing away...  Why?  Why did Skip hold on so tight to the point of squeezing the life out of all about him?  Without the Lord as the center of life, Skip not only looked for love in all the wrong places; he was separated from love.

            Anything or anyone placed above the Lord, is eventually lost.  For so is mercy: to lose the idol and  gain life.  When the lost lose an obstacle in the path of salvation, the path that is Christ Jesus, opens.  God chastens those He loves that they become His children; and if already His children, stay His children. (Hebrews 12:6)

            But, into what do we walk, when we step out on that back porch of the mind?  Seems like once upon a time, I ought to remember something about nostalgia.  Nostalgia?  Is it some kinda' itchy skin disease or some sorta' fruity ambrosia?  Is nostalgia the effervescent antacid to calm the the up-setting present?  Or is nostalgia the insidious seduction of the past, the seed of escape, the mirage of hope, the fog of sweet secret, the touch of that gone by, the caress of that lost?  Nostalgia: won't let go; won't come back.  What name slips not away... Beware of whispers in the night calling... Nostalgia... the breeze of sweet nothings, the breath of seducing sighs, the whirl wind of fading passions.  Turn deaf ear to her beckoning cries, "Come back to me," the mist of lies.

            A trick of the mind called nostalgia.  Now, not all nostalgia is sad or bad.  Some might even be glad.  But when nostalgia blinds spiritual reality, when she morphs to the wistful waste of semi-mental sentiment; then she's gotta go.  When the seductress named Nostalgia whispers in the night; take a good look at where you are going.  Some memories are best prayed about... not relived.  Others are warm fuzzies, gentle breezes, gems of better times, even precious moments of love.  So, where to draw the line of nostalgia?

            The wife of Lot looked back on sin, longed to return to the city of Sodom; so turned her flesh into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:17, 24-26).  It all depends on what you look back on.  It all depends on what you allow the heart to desire.  The heart needs guidance.  So did God the Father send The Light, His only begotten Son, to shine the way (John 3:16; 8:12).  If we remember anything, dwell upon all our Savior has done for us.  For on judgment day a people with Bibles in every home and churches on ever corner have no excuse, if they do not repent and believe.  The sins of our nation are worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah because... we know better (Matthew 11:21-24). Humble self!  Repent!  Pray!  Turn to Jesus!!!  And God the Father will turn to you (James 4:5-10; 2nd Chronicles 7:14).  Remember salvation; look not back to sin; avoid that pillar of salt.

            At one time or another, all varmints get caught in that old trap, that snare called nostalgia.  But is all nostalgia bad?  Is Nostalgia not what we make of her?  Is the longing for a simpler time, when God was still in our prayers at school, wrong?  Is remembering the Bible stories of youth not comforting?  Is cherishing the  childhood hugs of Mom not blessed?  So should we dwell on the remembrance of the LORD's gifts.  Hold dear especially His grace made possible on the cross by Jesus.  Dwell in all hope, because Jesus loves us.  Jesus is our greatest gift; blessed proof God loves us.  Press forward for Jesus.  Be doers; not dreamers only.  Share the love of Jesus with all about you.  Love God!!! Love one another!!! Bless His Holy Name!!!

            Please share "Back Porch Nostalgia," to encourage folks to think about what really matters, his name is JESUS.

                                                                                      

THE LIFE OF R. E. GRETT

            "Being sorry is just not good enough, little man!  You must pay for what you did!  Rules are rules!  Hold that hand out!  Palm down!  For dropping a pencil on the floor the punishment is the edge of the ruler, not one, but two whacks to the back of the hand!"  My how did old lady Scarakid's eyes burn excitement at the tears of her students.

            So was the introduction of first grade education to one Reginald Eugene Grett.  So did the life of  R. E. Grett, Ruey, as fellow classmates called him, so did his life, if you call it living, become a life tainted, a life sealed, a life over and over again pierced by poisonous arrows of error.  Error then arrow, error then arrow, too many arrows for error, till the life of Ruey became one of stagnant regret, one of increasing stiffness; afraid to move; afraid to make a mistake.  In the darkness of such a life, Ruey, as many often do, could have turned to retribution, to revenge, to crime and evil; but Ruey was a good kid, who turned blame inward.  So was the life of R. E. Grett, poor Ruey, swallowed up in the gaping pit of regret, the perdition of paralysis.

            And lo, one faithful birthday R. E. Grett sat in the seat of celebration before a colorfully adorned frosted cake with seven candles ablaze.  Festive ribbons and balloons of red and blue hung draped from the ceiling.  Presents wrapped in gold and in stripes and in cartoon characters lay near.  Shiny party hats sat on kids heads.  Noise makers blew and cranked.  But Ruey had lost the ability to see color.  To him the light was dim gray, the sight dark sterile objects.  Not even a noisy party horn in his ear stirred stiffness.  And the joyful noise faded away; and one by one the kids smiles faded too.  So it was said by anguished adults that a quiet party is no party at all.  Till a little girl, younger yet wiser than them all, stepped up to R. E. Grett and placed a kiss on the cheek of Ruey, then whispered in his ear, "Jesus loves you."

            And the bright of light flickered in the eyes of Ruey and he said, "I love Jesus too." And he hugged the little girl, younger yet wiser than them all...   (Romans 16:16 & 1st Peter 5:14)

            Continually walking on thorns decreases the ability to walk; births stiffness; leads to paralysis.  Why live such a life of regret?  Why let the poisonous arrows of the past paralyze you, when forgiveness and healing are only a breath away?  ...His name is Jesus... Call upon His name and be saved...  (Romans 10:13)

            Friends refresh friends (Acts 27:3).  Friends recognize need, both physical and spiritual, and determinedly act upon it.  Friends will even tear the roof off a building to get you to Jesus (Mark 2:2-12).  Just remember the physically damaged, the emotionally stunted and the dreadfully sinful all need love to heal. ...Let your love lead them to the love of Jesus...  And thus like the little girl, who stepped up to R. E. Grett, be younger yet wiser than them all...

            Life requires both sunshine and rain, the light and living water to grow... Jesus...

If  "The Life of R.E. Grett," will limber up the legs of any suffering the arrows of past errors and get them walking with Jesus, please share.  Jesus loves You.
              
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