God of Mercy, Grace, Truth, and Justice

     An excerpt from a future book, tentatively titled The Wrong Side of the Daisies. A conversation between God (the Voice), and a man by the name of Jon. If this sounds too harsh, refer to Revelation 3:14-22.

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      "It disgusts me," the Voice answered, "when men refuse to take a stand for what is right and good. I have told you what those things are, and those things which are wrong and evil. I have instructed you to stand firmly in support of the one, and opposed to the other. And yet, most do not. Even when it is for their own good, most are too lazy, too self absorbed, too hard of heart and blind to put forth the effort to stand firm. When faced with opposition, they back away, pandering to false truths of tolerance, liberty, their version of 'love your neighbor.' They believe my word is too strict, that I myself do not stand so firmly for, nor against, that which my word says. What do you think, Jon?"

      "I think your word is right, and you stand for what it says."

      "My word is me and I am my word!" God's voice thundered. "I have spoken what is true, and what is true can never be changed. What is right is right; what is wrong is wrong. These things will never pass away. My feet are firmly planted in what is righteous and good, and my right hand strongly opposes all which is evil. There are those who claim to speak in my name who say otherwise, who claim to know that I am a God of tolerance, a God of compromise. They are wrong. I am God of truth, God of justice. I am also God of mercy, God of grace, but they abuse my mercy and grace, thinking it allows them freedom to do whatever evil they desire, and to tolerate the evil around them. Because of that, they disgust me. What do you do when something disgusts you, Jon?"

      "I get rid of it."

      "And so shall I. Because they refuse to stand for what is right or against what is wrong, I shall rid myself of them. I will vomit them from my mouth like the vile and tasteless filth they are. They believe they know who I am, but they know me not at all. Because of that, I shall not claim them, and will throw them far from myself. Then they will realize, despite their 'wisdom' and 'understanding,' that they have nothing."

      Jon stood silent, waiting. What he was waiting for, he didn't know. But he had the feeling the Voice had more to say. He was right.

      "If only they would open their eyes to see, and their minds to understand, then they would know. They would throw away their useless 'understandings' and clothe themselves with the truth of my word. In knowing me, they would see that my way is right and good, if not easy. They would see the value in taking a stand, and I would find worth in them once again."

      The Voice paused, and when it resumed, a tone of sadness had crept in.

      "But very few will. For most, their hearts are too hard, their minds too corrupt, and their desires too strong. They will hear my truth, but ignore it. Continuing in their ways, they will be neither for me, nor against me. They will claim me, but will not lend credence to my truths. By their inaction, their refusal to hold to what is right and despise what is wrong, they will lead even more astray than those who openly oppose me. They are the tools of the enemy, and as such they will be cast into the fires of my judgment unless they repent."

To Those Who Have Served

Thank you.

It is not enough, but it is a start. For all the men and women who have and do serve our great nation, Thank You!

I am very proud to claim a number of veterans in my family: A sister and her husband; two grandfathers; an uncle; a nephew; a niece; and more. I also have many friends who have willingly and courageously sacrificed a part of their lives so that I may live mine with the freedoms and liberties afforded to me because I am an American. Is thank you enough?

These men and women have served our nation; it is because of them that we are who we are, where we are, how we are. Make it personal: You and I would not have the lives we know if not for our veterans. We would not be free. We would not be independent. We would not be Americans if not for them. Is thank you enough?

In the air, on the sea, over the land, in times of peace and strife, through stifling heat and bitter cold, across mountains and deserts, braving ocean waves and swells, they have served. Through mud, sweat, tears, sand, dust, and yes--even blood--they have continued on. For me. For you. Is thank you enough?

No corner has been too far, no enemy too great, no obstacle too high, nor fear too deep for them to overcome. They have cried, they have collapsed, they have lost and they have mourned, but never have they failed to rise and stand again. Is thank you enough?

How many have we lost? How many have given their all, everything they had, and were, and could be, for our sake? How many never enjoyed the freedoms they provided and protected because they were too busy sacrificing for us? How many never saw home again? Is thank you enough?

There is no end to what could, and should, be said. They deserve all that they have given us. They deserve more than we have given them. These words are not enough, but they are all I have.

Thank you!

Patience

Do you know a synonym from the Bible for patience? How about long suffering? That pretty well defines patience for me--to suffer long. I fear I am not a patient man by nature.

I should be patient; I grew up in a very small town (it doesn't even qualify as a town; it is officially a village). If something was going to happen in my home town, you had to wait for it, and if you weren't careful, you missed it. And we did not have a store, a gas station, or, until I was a teenager, a soda machine. If you wanted anything, you had to wait to go to the town where I went to High School 12 miles away--which had 1,400 people. That was the happening place. K-Mart and a grocery store with more than 5 aisles was 30 miles distant. And I'm not ancient, people--we're talking the 80's and 90's!

Another reason I should be patient is my two older sisters. Their idea of fun at the end of the school year was to have me sit at a makeshift desk and play 'school.' They were also my transportation, when they were old enough to drive and I was not. Think I ever had to wait to go somewhere? Yah, maybe! And along the same lines, I have been outnumbered my entire life. I have two sisters, no brothers. I entered a profession (physical therapy) which is traditionally female dominated. I have two daughters, one son. That alone should have created a patient man; but it has not.

Or maybe it has. The past two weekends, I have traversed a pitch-black river 5 hours before daylight just to claim a desired hunting spot. What did we do for five hours? We waited. Patiently. Suffering long. My before-mentioned children--13, 9, and 6--have required some degree of patience. Have you ever watched 5-year olds play soccer? That is long suffering! I think youth soccer is partly God's answer to my prayers for patience. As they say, be careful what you pray for!

Now, my patience is being tested again. I have entered a bizarre netherworld know as Publishing. In this place, time is warped, if it exists at all. My oldest sister brought home from the Army the phrase, "Hurry up to wait." She said they had to run everywhere they went, only to wait once they got there. That's kind of how I feel now. I spent months, even years, staying up half the night (or more) to write, edit, rewrite, revise, rearrange, rewrite . . . you get the point . . . at fever pitch to be able to send a manuscript into this strange world of publishing. And now? I wait. Suffering. Long.

A strange thing, this patience. A strange thing indeed!

Broken

Have you ever been broken? I mean truly, completely, without hope and irreparably broken? Your soul pours out of a fractured heart, tears cascade in floods from swollen eyes, and no touch nor word can reach you. That's broken.

We all deserve to be broken; some of us have been, the rest of us will be.

Christ was broken for us, and if we are to accept His salvation, we must be broken for Him. That which is in us, and is us, must, without doubt and exception, be completely broken if we are to have the hope of His healing touch. We must die to ourselves in order to live through Him. If that is not broken, I don't know what is.

What does it feel like to be broken? Lonely. Agonizing. Guilt, shame, disgust . . . The list goes on. It is a miserable, wretched experience; and it can seem to go on forever. The stronger we are, the harder we break. But when the breach occurs . . . It is cataclysmic. Everything gives at once; our very foundations seem to give way beneath us. We are in free fall.

But do you know what is on the other side? Grace. Mercy. Forgiveness. Peace. Rest. All there, waiting for us to give up on ourselves and rely on Christ. He is waiting, waiting to wipe away every tear, heal every wound, mend every broken and fractured piece of our soul.

Waiting for us to break.

How Far Have You Gone?

Where I live, hunting is a Fall ritual in which I eagerly and wholeheartedly participate. For me, it is a sport of camaraderie and friendship, physical and mental challenge, and an opportunity to partake of the beauty of God's creation. It also provides some interesting lessons.

Yesterday, I harvested a banded Canada goose. The band was worn thin, tarnished by time and weather; this was obviously an old goose. I was excited to report the band and find out where this goose had started life. Bands are often collected from all over the United States and even Canada. I anticipated learning that my goose had, at least from her perspective, seen the world. I was wrong.

She was banded in 2002 in Manito, Illinois. That was less than 10 miles (as a goose flies) from where I hunted. In all likelihood, she had never moved beyond a 50 mile radius, and perhaps much less, in those 12 years. Canadian geese used to migrate, breeding and nesting in the northern US, wintering in the South and even Mexico. But there is an emerging pattern in the goose population where geese never migrate. They find a place where they are comfortable, and stay there their entire lives. They are called resident geese, and are the ones you see around golf courses, urban fountain pools, etc. They never go very far from where they began life, and they teach their offspring the same. That got me thinking.

How many of us appear to have gone far in our lives, but in reality never wander far from where we started? I am not speaking of geography, but rather growth and maturity. We are created to, metaphorically speaking, go places and do things. God's design is for us to travel a path which leads us far from where we begin in our beliefs and understanding of Him to a place of maturity and service. But many never do. Just like those resident geese, we become complacent in a place where we are comfortable, and because of that, miss out on the opportunities and challenges which lead us to greater growth. We become a population of resident Christians because we never go anywhere, and through our example, we teach our children to do the same.

This is a dangerous pattern, and one we must resist. Never stop growing, moving, changing. Face challenges as opportunities for growth and maturity. You might just be surprised by where God takes you.

Absence Makes The Heart Grow . . . Fainter

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

That little gem of wisdom has been around for eons, and still has the ring of truth to it. But, as with all things, too much of a good thing is, well, not good.

First, let's examine the truth of the saying. Scientific study has given credence to our little ditty above mentioned; absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder. When an object of desire is removed from our reach, we desire it all the more. We've all experienced this, whether it be time away from a spouse, child or friend, or perhaps the longing of Summer during the cold grip of Winter. Taken away from that which we long to hold close, we yearn ever so strongly to have it returned.

Until time takes its toll.

When said desire is taken from us too far, too long, too often, we begin to replace it. This is our nature, our way; when it comes to fulfilling desires of the heart, our attention span quickly wanes. Our hearts, our desires will be fulfilled, if not with that which we originally sought, then with something else. Nature, and the human psyche, abhor a vacuum. The voids within us labeled as desires will be filled, one way or another.

This is all to say that while temporary absence makes the heart grow fonder, prolonged absence leads the longing of the heart to grow faint. Stories of long-lost lovers notwithstanding, long distance relationships face an uphill battle. And distance need not be measured by miles.

Whether it be in your relationship with your spouse, child, family, friends, or God--take pains to keep your absences short. The resulting emptiness, if too long unattended, will surely be drifted over by something else. And rarely are replacement parts as good as the original.

What We've Got Here Is A Failure To Communicate

You wouldn't think, in an age of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, email, texts, and any number of other social media that we could possibly have a communication problem. I mean, really--there has never been a greater ability to communicate with anyone, anywhere, than there is today. We have instant access to myriad forms of information exchange, so there should be no problem, right?

Wrong.

Sadly, that is very, very wrong. I contend that one of the greatest downfalls of our society, and societies around the developed world, is our inability to effectively communicate with each other. Oh, we communicate, all right; but the key is effective communication. There is a big difference.

We have all heard the stats; non-verbal communication constitutes at least 2/3 of what we convey to each other. When we only communicate via electronic devices, we lose that. What we are left with is 1/3 of what we are trying to say. Try living off 1/3 of your paycheck and see how effective that is!

Also, when that 1/3 is reduced to 180 characters or less, we further remove vital pieces of emotion, nuance, and personality, cutting the very heart out of our intended message. Adding an emoticon at the end of a text just doesn't cut it, folks:(

What we are left with is a sterile, voiceless, nearly meaningless jumble of abbreviations, half sentences, and auto-correct nightmares. The result is a total failure to communicate, and the effect on society is . . . devastating.

That is not even broaching the subject of what staring at electrified pixels is doing to our brains and the brains of our children, and our ability to have a true face-to-face conversation. Take a look around the next time you are in a restaurant and see how many are talking, and how many are staring at their smart phones. Sadly, the cliche, "My phone is smarter than me," isn't far from the truth anymore.

I do not miss the irony of posting this diatribe on a blog, which I will then link to Facebook. But as Paul said, "When in Rome . . ." 

I'm not sure what the answer to this problem is, but I am sure that it is not to continue down the road we are on. Take time to look someone in the eye, think about what you want to say, and express it fully. You just might be surprised at the result.