Friday, April 17, 2015

The Sacrifice

He entered the sanctuary slowly, cautiously- as if afraid his very presence might cause some violent reaction.  The great space was empty except the many seats, a stage with many instruments and a speakers podium, and before the stage a large darkly stained wooden table carved with the words 'Do this in remembrance of me.'

Slowly, reverently, he walked with his head lowered toward the front carrying a box.  He was speaking aloud lowly as he moved, more crying than words.  Clutching the box, he reached the table and opened it to remove two small white doves.  He placed the birds, whose wings and feet were tied, on the table, and pulled from his coat a knife.

At this point I intervened, 
*Exactly, what are you doing!
I said from the sound booth in the back over the speaker system.

He ducked and looked around quickly dropping the knife to the floor.
"The... The... the required sacrifice..." He managed to gasp out.
*Haven't you heard I require mercy not sacrifice.  
"Yes... yes, I need mercy. So I bring sacrifice.  I must."
*Don't you know this sacrifice for your sins can never fully atone... No sacrifice you make can.
"I have been to many churches making sacrifices in search of forgiveness."
*I know and now here you are.

(Blood appearing on the communion tables of about a dozen local churches was all over the news.)

*You can never sacrifice enough to make yourself forgiven.

He stood for a long time, knife in hand. staring through the windows before him into the sky and slowly began raising the knife high above him pointed downward as if to plunge into himself.

*What do you think you're doing now?
"If there is no hope, I might as well end all of this."
*Don't you know the good news.  
"What... good news?"
*Jesus, the Son, died for you.  On a cross his blood was shed. He came from eternal glory to live the life you can never live and die the death you deserve.  He is your sacrifice already made.  

The knife lowered only slightly as he looked at a rough wooden cross set on the stage before him.

"If he died what hope is there."
*He was raised to eternal life as all who believe in him will be.  His death conquered sin once and for all, his rising to new life conquered death as well.
"I want to believe."
*Then ask.
"God help me to believe in Jesus your Son, help me to understand what this sacrifice means for me, forgive me by his blood." 

The knife dropped out of his hand and he fell to his knees crying.

I walked up front and introduced myself and then we prayed together prayers of joy and tears.

He said, "I just spoke to God,"

stopping to laugh he finished,"not the one that sounds like you."  

Then he said, "Jesus is speaking to me now."

He insisted we release the doves, walking outside we used the knife to cut the bands holding their feet and wings.  They flew into the bright blue sky as we smiled.  My new friend, my new brother in Christ, turned and said, "We are free!"





more than they can dream

Waking up this morning, one phrase reverberates here in my heart and soul, "more than they can dream."

So now I'm left to wonder where did this phrase drop into me from, because it is not my own.  In fact, after now looking it up, it appears to be a Winston Churchill quote that has lain for several months from a recent book on a quick read.  (Gandhian Approach to Development and Social Work, By K. D. Gangrade; p. 40)

The quote goes, "...if the human race wishes to have a prolonged and indefinite period of material prosperity, they have only to behave in a peaceful and helpful way toward one another and science will do all they wish and more than they can dream."  

I believe in more than science, but above all I believe in making peace, for by this are we known as children of God. (Matthew 5:9)  In peace we do find prosperity and more, as we properly use whatever resources of time, energy and money that we have been provided in a harmonious fashion rather than wasting them in struggle. Elsewise, the power of the individual is diminished and never fully realized outside the combined expansion into vital relationship.  (synergism, 1+1=3, Together We Achieve More, sum of the parts is greater than the whole, etc.)

Regardless of any perceived:
* struggles of health- physical or mental,
* lack of resources- finances or time,
* personal or personality differences, 
* individual or group failures (past wrongs)
* or belief about intent or level of trust.

Each and every person we serve and serve with - every single one of them and ourselves could have 'more than they can dream.'  Yet somehow over thousands of years of human history we continue to fail.  Throughout our lives we continue to fail.  Everyday I fail.  We are not our answer.

Graciously, through Christ- God has provided peace.  I would never dream that as a failed human being any truly righteous holy God would have concern for me - or if God did, that it would be love and compassion rather than judgement as I have deserved.  Yet, the good news is just that - Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, lived the life I can never live and died the death I deserve to be raised to everlasting life, as I will be because the Holy Spirit has made belief in my heart possible.

In this, hearts and minds are changed.  Peace is found.  First with God, perhaps with ourselves, and maybe then with each other.

Here is glory to God.  Why would anyone here waste a single breath otherwise, except in that pursuit and declaration?  We are here for that purpose alone.


Thus I believe and pray about myself and the heart of each person I serve and serve with.  I believe in the power of the Holy Spirit and Gospel of Jesus Christ to change hearts and lives for the Glory of God.




Thursday, October 23, 2014

HaTechiya L'Shkhol


Missingaries among the leaves, watching winds carry away more than the piles can hold.  Swept away, riding aloft into the sky.  Believed trailing after the unfortunate few forsaken.  Lifted by the heat and stretching toward heaven's hold screaming out 'piles are for burning.' Finding forever for having been lost.
***
Out into the cold dark world, away from the comforts of home she traveled one day.  Would he ever understand? He reminded himself, fathers too often choose not to.  So that he might, he went looking for her soul among the ashes spread on the street by her friends, by her love.  He found himself, living in the shadow of her light- mourning the loss of all reason.

"Mr. Meir" the voice called softly, "Eran.  Wake up."  He rolled over and peered directly into the beam pouring down on him from the open doorway, leaning his head into the darkness cast by the figure before him.  "What time is it Aeolus?" he managed to scratch out from his dry throat.  "Nearly 11," the woman sang back in her richly sweet voice, "nearly, nearly... We almost..." her song fell short not for forgetting, but remembering.  

"It's ok Mrs. Porter, I love the song as much as I loved her," he said with compassion enough for everyone, "As much as I love them all."  

He wondered if there were ever enough tears.

***
Mahal

A child of privilege, Mahal Gadal grew up wanting for nothing. Even though he died the same way, wanting for nothing- he was a child of the wind in his last days.  Is fifteen years enough life- is forty, what ever is?

"It's ok Mama Porter." Mahal insisted.  She looked up at the skeleton before her trying not to show her any of his sadness, "Don't call me Mama," she grunted.

He laughed a loud hard ha and began coughing uncontrollably.  Bent over from the pain and force of the wind, he heaved and sputtered.  "Stay one more night."  She pleaded as he held a hand aloft for her to stay back.

Eran walked into the room wiping the sleep from his eyes.  "Gadal. Gadal. Mahal Gadal!" he proclaimed as if in celebration, clapping his hands once and holding them aloft as if for a hug but more for prayer. Instead, he stood staring at the ceiling while the teenager continued to cough and wheeze.  Finally,  he said, "Son, it's not time yet!  You owe us ten minutes."

"Don't call me..." Gadal whispered forth looking up, "...son."  Then the boy smiled, coughed a clearing cough and straightening  himself up to look Eran in the eyes.  "Papa Meir." he stopped, "Let me call you papa just for those ten minutes."  

Eran choked back the tears welling within the depths of his being to say, "You needn't go." But he knew the boy's answer before he said it, "I am a child of the wind."  They embraced and the sorrow within the man poured forth as he realized this one would soon be scattered as well.

"I made tea, hot hot Earl Gray with honey," Aeolus whispered, "Let's sit down."

As the ginger spice and sickening sweet clashed in his mouth, Eran thought, 'if only.'  If only Mahal hadn't cancer, he might live longer.  If only his parents hadn't been on that particular bus on that particular day when a bomber got on too, then they might be alive and he might have been treated.   If only someone, anyone, him had taken this boy in.  If only...

If only Yarah never left, she might still be at home.  He missed his daughter and now he knew he'd miss this new son.  Life isn't lived in 'if only' he thought, as he whispered aloud, "...only ifs." He received an assuring nod from Mahal.

Eran looked across the table at Mrs. Porter, a woman he'd known for only three weeks.  A woman he now knew more than anyone and she smiled at him.  He looked back at Mahal and grasping for the right words found some that would suffice, "Yarah hated Earl Gray Tea."

"Me too Papa," Mahal proclaimed with glee. Mama Aeolus frowned only to keep up the play. "It tastes like dog pee," he went on.  "Have you tasted dog pee!" the old man responded.  "Yes! Yes! She hated that part too Papa! She said you always said that and got mad when I did it too." Mahal laughed and then looked all too seriously toward the father.

"Do you think we'll be together?" the boy asked.  Eran looked into the deep grey eyes of the corpse before him and prayed, "May you always be."  With that the boy stood to his feet and the round old woman sternly crossed her arms.  "Goodbye Mama." - "Don't call me... Goodbye..." she jumped to her feet proclaiming in tears, "...son!"  She grappled his neck and he immediately began to pry at her hands.

As Mahal stepped to the door, he looked back at the pair.  "Eran," it was the first he had called him by his name the man thought, he nodded back. "Do you still believe..." the young man wondered.  Answering for himself as much as the others the father said, "I have too, it's an only if."

The boy looked down for a moment thinking and then smiled nodding, "You're right Eran. God and our Christ are only ifs... I believe."  looking up deep into the man's eyes, "Just now I truly believe as you do... As she did."

Mahal stepped out of the little house set awkwardly against the urban night and strolled off into the darkness.  His body was found in the morning near an outside cafe in midtown just ten blocks away.  They went together to claim him, scattering his ashes on the winds of the next night among his friends.  There they found more only ifs.


Thursday, November 21, 2013

Kippo (no ma Ningen)

Kippo (no ma Ningen)
Good News (for Man)

The long darkness cast by Sal Mavet entered the room before his presence was known.  He appeared suddenly at the hospital room door then knocking quickly as he glided toward his patient.   Looking the old man up and down and then deep in the eyes, he bowed ever slightly before grimly speaking, "Mr. Ningen, your time in this life is very short."  The young granddaughter at his bedside sobbed and grabbed her mother's hand and the mother gasped loudly begging through tears, "Doctor, is there nothing that can be done."  

Reaching across the bed and over the aged Koshi Ningen, Mavet put his hand on Kokai's shoulder to comfort her.  He spoke softly- almost inaudibly, "I can only help him on his way."  She cried now too.

Koshi raised a withered hand between them angrily demanding, "Leave us alone."  Yet, he was looking at his daughter and granddaughter in such a way that it was clear he was talking to them.  "Get out.  Now!" He screamed aloud pointing at the door.  So Kokai hurriedly left taking Keppaku along with her, closing the door behind them.  It was the last old Ningen would ever be with them.

"I remember you." Ningen looked up at Mavet.  Smiling a little he responded, "From where?"  Ningen grimaced, "You were there when my wife died."  Mavet smiled wider, "Yes, Koshi that's right I remember your Koishi very well."

Ningen sat up a bit and pointed a long boney finger back at the figure before him, "You were there when my father died."  Mavet chuckled at the old man, "When was that Koshi?" Laying back Ningen scratched his bald head, "When I was six, during the war when he was poisoned with radiation from the American bombs."  Now Mavet laughed aloud, "Koshi, you're nearly 70..."  - "Yet you were there!" the dying man said as a matter of fact.  Mavet's smile faded only slightly.

For a moment seemingly like a window into eternity neither spoke.  Finally, taking his final few breaths and closing his eyes slightly he said, "Where were you when my mother died?"  Knowing the end was near and wanting to avoid difficulties, Mavet said, "Your Daifu suffered painfully to his death Koshi, not like you."  The old man opened his eyes wide proclaiming, "I knew it!  Why did he have to go so soon!  It left my mother broken."  

Mavet smiled that grim smile again, "You are all broken from your birth, from the moment your Botai brought you into this world you would die Koshi."  Ningen sat up again. "So where were you when she died Shinigami."  Stiffening up as if surprised Mavet pursed his lips, "She was not mine to claim, she belonged to Jotai Tentei."  This made Ningen smile as he gasped, "Well then, let's not waste any more time.  Get it over with then."

"Koshi, I'm only here to see you on your way." Mavet assured the man, "Your time cannot be slowed or sped up, but this life for you is soon to end."

Ningen squinted slightly at Mavet, "You know you're not as scary as most think."  Mavet frowned, "I'm nothing to be feared." He paused and leaned in slightly toward the man's ear, "What comes after..." He turned looking out and stretching forth a reddish hand pointing his sharpened nails toward eternity and began chuckling a fearful laugh as if to comfort even himself.

The man coughed and sputtered with frustration, "I don't believe in all of that."  Shaking his head and flailing his arms,"My mother tried to scare me with stories of the flames in Tenbatsu and Akuma's torments among the Daten-shi. She would tell me I could avoid it by trusting in..."  Mavet hissed, turning and holding his dark claw over the man's mouth as if to prevent the words.  "That's why I'm here Koshi and not... him."

Only when he removed it slowly did Ningen realize there was one even death feared. He wondered if his Mother's stories of Kamidesu Kyusheishu, God become man, could be true.  Botai spent hours telling young Koshi stories of the miracle birth brought by the Seirei upon a young girl, the god-man on earth doing miracles among his creation, and finally being killed by those he came to save through crucifixion.  Botai said they killed him for claiming his true nature as one with Jotai Tentei.  She told him how Kamidesu's body was placed in a grave by his followers, but on the third day it was gone and he appeared alive to many of them even ascending into a glorious place with Jotai Tentei.  Botai told her son he only needed to believe in the Kyusheishu, to trust him and he would deliver Koshi from death and Tenbatsu into Jotai Tentei's great presence for all eternity.

She had always said it was never to late, not until... "Death comes," Mavet whispered.  With that Ningen released his last breath and a great blue field of energy came forth from his body.  Mavet glowed growing younger by many years.  "Goodbye Koshi. I shall be with you in Tenbatsu soon enough."

The door opened and a nurse of noticeable age walked in staring angrily at Mavet who said plainly, "Mr. Ningen is no longer here Nurse Memitim."  She glared at him and seem to moan, "I had hoped to assist you."  As he left looking back at the shell of the man in the bed he said, "This one was personal." He smiled at her assuringly, "There will be many, many more."

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

knowing nothing new now not never



initial inquiry inherently inhibited
failing foresight for forensic focus
subtly suggesting simplistic surety
seeking certain situational specifics
emphatic elementary explanation exists
nihilism inbreeds knowing pneumaticities
grasping grandiose gravitational gradients
convinced causative conclusion consistently
nothing naissances noministically enigmatic
sensing sum cedent circumstance sequentially
percipient prescience postulates past presence
expecting exceptional extremity exactly explicated
derivable determination defiantly definitely disposed
what we were was
whether which way works
where wills wield worldly wants
without wrestling weighty wringings
wildly wanting wisdom without wane
worthlessly worshipping whorefully
wrongly wandering when wealthy
winning wars with words worse
warrantlessly wishing weightily
witlessly wasting willfully
worthlessly writing
wilted worn wry
withdrawn writs
wondering why
we whither





Friday, May 24, 2013

Ruthless Lover

This ruthless lover
in pursuit of the prize
longing for true embrace with
one dead to love's advances

Loveless utterly fails
to describe heartless
unresponsiveness given
ceaseless caring caress

After all, alone inside, to hide
this darkness, tears must stay
as this jealous lover stands
holding me firmly, waiting

Then in a moment of greatest weakness
maybe of desire, longing for some touch
looking at these hands of this,
my lover, why do I notice so seldom

patiently, tenderly having always
held this struggling soul who
would otherwise just run away
into the arms of another lesser

this lover still waits to captivate my soul
in ways mere mortals merely marvel
I know, I've experienced before
why wait, why hesitate, my hate of me

this lover who loves
and would love me so,
my heart wilts because of,
for not being what I should be,

this lover gives, has given all for me
but what have I, so I withhold
this my ultimate rejection
the last thing I control

suddenly a hand grasps me firmly
turning me to face fully the blazing fury
of this lover's eyes and feel the truth
of my foolish game and sad lies

a thunderous voice echoes
throughout the night into forever
"It is finished." Oh, this great Master
our Lord, my Savior, Christ, the Almighty.

Jesus is a ruthless lover.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

're-mind-ed'

Once I was wild eyed
unstoppable with passion
awakened at four AM
by dreams that played on
while my eyes where open
seeing what is meant to be
drives the very soul depths

But I forget and slip
whether the brokenness
of my body, or my mind
or my longing heart
is at fault for my many
failures matters not

the pain of each remains still
yet as a mere mortal man stood
on a stage of wood saying
what he was praying
for the long season
that had dried
and cracked
this being
I thought
yeah
sure
yet
I
knew
this God
he's talking to
this hope offered
this love given freely
this truth and life and Way
here inside me the Spirit stirs

Christ commands commitment
never have I left His hand, even...
especially, when I have tried myself
here, found condemned again as always

I remember;
pain, failures, wasted time without effort;
my pride, my arrogance, my hurts,
my temptations and desires, my fears
I own these too much and they own me much more

I remember;
the past, who I was and too often am;
the present, who I am and too often aren't;
the future, who I am supposed to be becoming... but, stop short for me, for myself.

I am suddenly 're-minded':
the most important thing in this world-
I don't matter as much as what Jesus has done and is doing in this world.

Christ reminds me:
He spoke this existence into being
knowing I'd be here typing these
words that so poorly capture
what redemption is about.

Christ reminds me:
There will be a time when pain
and hurt and frustration are no more
because He will stop their causes, but
for now sin and death are allowed... allowed to continue in this world... but that they should not continue in my life and relationship with Him.

Christ reminds me:
He has saved me from sin and death by His love and mercy alone, not by anything I have or will ever do, yet He calls me deeper to walk, to live, to exist in Him, in Him alone, by faith alone.

I look away from these many things toward Him, they seem to hurt much less now.

Christ reminds me:
He awoke me from death in the first place, He gave me that flaming passion to see a world of men who followed Him like they were meant to, who lead their families and their friends and their communities like they were meant to.

Christ reminds me, those wild eyes were for Him, that passion burned from His Spirit for His Glory... worship ensues and so it does again.

That man's amen wasn't in vain and neither will this moment at 4am be.

I haven't forgotten, nor have I remembered, Christ 're-minds' me.

a cool drink of water indeed
a fire for my soul as well
quenching my thirst
meant burning
me whole
leaving
only an
ember





Wednesday, April 24, 2013

bending linearity


try
to see
rather the
curving space
having bent linearity
not so straightly affixed
as if coordinately drawn from
then into the Cartesian, well having
forgotten complex angular functions 
polar sphericity otherwise always known,
whereby generative form is representated
every dimension precisely inprescience
evincing everything existentially entirely
trigonometrically tracking totality tightly
integrally infinitesimally indeterminably
past perceivable plotted pinpoints 
to dynamic, indefinite, infinite, so
life as it is, is something more
than just an overly simplified
distance between 2 points-
one known, beginning-
the other set, -end,
one way > only,
existence,
a line?

Monday, April 22, 2013

Walking A Way














Walking A Way

The lies that we follow, the stranger’s voice
calling us away from the fold.
Acting as if we have made some choice,
wandering aimlessly in darkest cold.
Seeking to play, we are played like toys,
so the robber has us, tight in his hold?
The thief comes with purpose, he destroys,
not as if we have not been so told.
Yet we forget, distracted by all the noise,
and off after our desires we strolled.
Falling for the schemes the enemy employs,
for the wages of sin we are sold.
We have been robbed of our former joys,
but what of redemption foretold.
When shall He come again with all His poise,
that those shamed may be consoled.
How long do we wait until we actually rejoice,
in greatest worship our Savior extolled.
Knowing Christ has foiled these simple ploys,
our souls once, now forever enrolled.
No! Sin is conquered, Christ remains victorious,
                we should remember, return, be bold.
Needing only to listen to the Word- so glorious,
                indwelt by the Spirit – God to behold.
This is the Way we should be walking.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Six AM


"Six was when I first realized. Maybe realized is the wrong word. 
 Six was when I was first afraid it could be true. 
Seven was when I knew for sure, when I first truly believed."

The sun shone through the darkness of night as the earliest morning rays of light penetrated into the darkened world of Ardu Paumé.

Squinting open one eye awkwardly against the brightness to see what had brought him from his deep slumber into consciousness, Ardu reached up to wipe the fog of sleep away. Looking up at the table near his bedside, he saw that the old style red letter digital alarm clock read 6:00 AM precisely. Odd he thought, he hadn't set an alarm in over nine years. Not since... since he retired.

Normally Ardu was awakened by the first buses to work projects at 6:30 AM. Sometimes his father woke him earlier brewing a pot of coffee and starting breakfast. Ardu reached up to his eyes again, this time not to wipe away sleep, but tears. His father couldn't have woke him up today. He said softly as if to his father, "Père, tu es mort."

It had only been six days since the death of Croyant Paumé. He had died quietly in his sleep during his regular afternoon nap on the front porch. Thinking about the last week, Ardu stretched out his back and neck, still softly crying. His father's last words before heading out to the porch to sit were, "Maintenant, seigneur, tu laisses ton serviteur s'en aller en paix."

It seemed a little odd at the time, for such a loving dad to call his son lord and say he was being released in peace. Ardu chalked it up to one of Croyant's attempts to be ironic since the old fella had just finished cleaning the lunch dishes. Ardu had waived his hand pompously as if he were the Grand Lord Chancellor Commander himself, stiffening up in his armchair as if it were the Imperious throne and saying very commandingly, "Be gone!" Not the way he'd always hoped to bid his father a final goodbye after all this time. He couldn't help but remember the lifetime of memories his father had shared with him as he grew up. Ardu lay in bed, replaying the story of his father's great journey, which so unceremoniously ended just six days before.

An absolute oddity, at 91 Croyant was the last survivor of the Third World War, having fought for France in the United European Army. He was only 14 when it began and he was drafted by a street marshal into service. Having survived the series of Great Economic Collapses before the war as a child alone on the streets of Paris, Croyant was never formally educated but he learned enough there to survive. In his travels as a soldier he learned English, German and somehow Mandarin along the way, but he always, always spoke French. He taught his younger son everything he knew, that's how Ardu eventually came to be at the service of the American Lord Chancellor Commander and perhaps how the old Croyant had been spared when so many like him had perished long ago.

Three years after the war ended, when order in Europe was fully restored by the initial military coup and the overthrow of all the petty governments was complete, Croyant was assigned to a field office in what was once Belgium. It was there at 25 years old he met Envie and a year later she became his wife and soon the mother of his children.

Fier, the lost son, was born first, seven months after Croyant and Envie were married by the odd battalion Chaplain. They still married people back then and then they still had Chaplains. Chaplain Commander Selig Schüler performed the short ceremony smiling widely the whole time.

Croyant went to find Selig after the wedding to ask him what all that awful smiling had been about, because he feared the man knew of the pregnancy. It might not go well for a man about to be promoted to command to have such a thing well known. Selig had asked Croyant if he had even heard any of the ceremony, any of the truth about who he was in this life in his creator's eyes. He told the kind old disciple that this harsh world just didn't have any room for believing in a god. Selig had replied, "That's ok, He believes in you."

Over the next few years, the two men became the closest friends. Drinking beer, arguing life, playing pool, talking about this supposed deity, telling war stories, and watching the military they served in seize more and more control of daily life. Selig guided Croyant in his career as a young commander and he was thankful, but Croyant just didn't believe Selig's stories about a god who loved this world and sent his son to die for it. He would listen to them politely, but only to be able to hear the other stories about the wars and being a great commander. Selig asked occasionally, do you believe or not and Croyant gave his standard answer - this harsh world just has no room for believing in any god. The more he heard Selig's stories the more he thought he was right rather than Selig.

Selig had been in the infantry and the special forces before he became a Chaplain. He fought in the early Arab Wars as a fresh faced officer and by the time the conflict blossomed into the Third World War, he was a battle hardened Battalion Head. He would have become a Field Commander and even a Chancellor Commander someday, but for some reason when the Mandarin Pax was won he just up and retired and went back to his hometown of Dresden to find this god he always talked about.

He always said it had something to do with the sight of the ash heaps from the Brems Bombs. He led the landing forces that cleared Beijing afterward. New Imperial China and her daughter nations of United Korea, Vietnam, Reclaimed Japan and others still had nearly 3 billion people left even after the early famines, the Collapses, and the conventional fighting in the Arab Wars. Even now history showed it was still better to have used the breakthrough Brems weapons that only killed living tissue and left buildings and roads in place. It was later found the Alliance Powers had been planning an all out conventional nuclear strike on United Sovereign America and United Europe.

The subsequent counter strike and nuclear winter would have likely ended all life on earth if not at least left most of the planet a fallout zone for hundreds of years. The rads from the Brems were clear in weeks.

In less than a week after that, Selig's mixed European force of under 2,000 commandos cleared the capital city of stragglers that had somehow survived the initial surprise blasts. Similar mop up operations were conducted throughout Russia by the United Sovereign American forces.

The coordinated detonation of a few hundred neutrino accelerators (Brems as they were called - short for Bremsstrahling or braking radiation) was sufficient to reduce the whole of Asia to a few hundred thousand people in the flash of an eye. In the life of us all it was a decision to remove the better majority of the population willing to kill the whole earth or all die in a final cataclysm of meaningless violence. Tough decisions about who lives and dies are never easy, but they must be made for the greater good or so we tell ourselves.

Selig always said the only casualty on his team in the mop-up operation to the Beijing Braking was his own soul. Many of his troops took grand trophies and great loot of ancient treasures. The only thing he took as a 'prize' was a red leather covered book from a little forbidden house church where he found the ash heaps of a hundred or so people gathered together in kneeling positions. The book was in French and Mandarin and told everything about the one true god or so Selig told Croyant.

When he got back to Dresden, Selig found a few people who knew something about the book and started spending time with them. With his natural leadership and keen intellehct, within two years he guided the group of a dozen or so to become a church of more than five hundred. This might seem remarkable that there were even five hundred people in all of Dresden who believed in such things at all, but in the time before order was restored many clung to faith just out of fear and desperation.

When the united military declared complete power and overthrew all the governments, they reactivated Selig thinking he might even become a Chancellor Commander over what used to be a country. He instead refused and simply filed a request to be assigned as a Chaplain citing pacifist objections - they obliged more out of fear for making him a martyr than for honor of his long service. Neither actually kept him safe all that long.

With the decimation of the African and Indian populations in the famines, the destruction of most of Australia's cities by the tidal bombs at the outset of the war, and the decline of Europe's population in the war. The only large population centers left were in the Americas, mainly in South America which was so increasingly poor, ungoverned and full of violence that migrants began to flow north until United Sovereign America finally sealed its borders at the end of zero year. South America would later be Brems'd in the first year for refusing to submit peacefully.

That was the same year that America chose to no longer be United Sovereign America, but become part of the world we know - the world of the Lord Chancellor Commander. It was a safe decision, a smart decision - the Brems would have destroyed all of the people, and left everything else for the Europeans. At least everyone in America lived, even if they are allowed to live only as the Lord Chancellor Commander allows. He commands those allowed to live, perhaps by the power of the Brems, more likely just because order is kept now as he commands.

The year Ardu was born, was the year the 1st Lord Chancellor Commander declared complete authority throughout Europe, this is the year of standard counting - zero year. It was also the year that Selig gave his life for his friend and the year Croyant, a man not quite thirty, claims he was reborn after his life and the world he knew would be forever destroyed. Sixty years and six Lord Chancellor Commanders, later Croyant finally lost his battle to keep the memory of Selig's god alive. So Ardu thought as the light flooded through the blinds that morning. "Silly papa, silly."

"La vie éternelle" his old father would drone on and on about - it seemed like eternity indeed to Ardu when he talked about it. These last nine years at home with him since retiring were the worst, Ardu thought. "He always pestered me about why I just quit," he said aloud. "None of your damnable business." he'd tell the old sweet man in response. That always ended it. He figured the old man must have thought he would die anyday and that's why he always talked about what came after death. Ardu rolled over in the bed as he heard the 6:30 buses leaving. Even on Saturday work must be done - the world must go on. So he told himself, commandingly.

Croyant had fled from the European Empire to United Sovereign America alone with Ardu in the early purges when he was only a baby. He told Ardu the stories of Selig often. Ardu appreciated the sacrifice of the man's life to save his father and him, but at this point he still agreed with his father's earlier thoughts in life. This harsh world just had no room for a god, even if a broken old man imagined that it did. His father had fled for nothing. Selig and his mother had died for nothing. His brother was left behind for nothing.

The world was now the Grand Lord Chancellor Commander's and people were just allowed to live in it until they weren't anymore, either because they ended their miserable existence or because the Grand Lord Chancellor Commander did. Rarely did anybody die from natural causes anymore. Ardu tried to dismiss any more thoughts of deities or hope or what might come after death, it was all too depressing. He got out of bed and wandered toward the kitchen past his father's empty room. "Someone must make the coffee!" he said very commandingly as he stood at attention.

He stopped and backed up to the open doorway of the room where his silly father he missed so much had slept these past sixty years. Standing in the doorway, filling the passageway with his massive frame, he stared at the simple bedside table and the red leather book sitting on it with only a pen and a red highlighter. His father loved that book, he loved to study and quote it. Ardu had left it open from when he was reading it just the night before. He stood for what must have been an eternity, unable to move, trying to gain the will against reading anymore. He wanted to forget the pain of his father, of his life, of this world. He wanted some sort of control in a world beyond his control. Perhaps today he would join his father in death he thought, he had nothing left but that. "I am a Commander!", he proclaimed commandingly.

Ardu walked over to close the book once and for all, but dropped it on the floor as he tried. When he picked it up he immediately noticed the words that looked recently highlighted, "Maintenant, Seigneur, tu laisses ton serviteur s'en aller en paix, conformément à ta promesse." He spoke in Standard aloud as he read, "Lord, now you let your servant go in peace, according to your promise."

Ardu sat down on the bed in tears and began to read.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Enjoy the Ride




Picture in your mind- your... perfect... dream... car.  

It could be... 
an exquisite classic, 
a sleek sportster, 
or the newest luxury custom.  


Imagine your dream vehicle fresh out of production, 
brand new without a scratch or defect.  
I'm giving that to you (in your mind). 

***
Now consider, you don't already have a car or even any cash.  So to alleviate the worries of having this car, I also tell you I will give you the money to pay the annual registration, inspection, other taxes, monthly insurance (with no deductible) , and even give you an allowance for gas.  I also have set-up a contract with the best mechanic for regular maintenance. There is even a lifetime bumper to bumper warranty that covers all parts & labor.

What's the catch?

Well first, let me ask you, when you got the car and pictured yourself behind the wheel - how fast were you going?  Was your seat belt on?  When I described all I would do and give, were you thankful or increasingly dubious?  Do you trust me?    

What if I told you I expect you to follow all the traffic laws?  I also don't think it's too much to ask that you treat others on your road with a certain courtesy and respect regardless of their treatment of you.  Would you also mind, maybe now and again dropping by to visit between adventures, I miss you ya know - you're never around since I got you that car.  If anybody asks or you feel like telling, let them know I gave you that - you can even give them my number, I like giving away imaginary dream cars. Would you still take that dream car?

Imagine after a few years, you've racked up so many speeding tickets that the insurance got cancelled, but you never told me.  You didn't take the time to get the oil changed so the engine knocks and the warranty won't cover that, plus you were mean to my mechanic friend so he won't bother to help you even though he would do it for free if I asked and you apologized.  You see I gave him an imaginary dream car too. 

Then you get in a road rage argument and decide to trade a little paint with another friend of mine that I gave a nice imaginary dream car to too.  Your engine blows as you rev it full bore and you slam into the median causing a wreck of 50 more cars along the way (all my friends and gifts from me, I might add).  The wreck severely injuring about 100 people including yourself.  For our little mental experiment, we'll be nice and say you didn't kill anybody, but just think if you did- how would feel?

You've also been spending the money I send you for registration, taxes, inspection, and insurance on booze to get liqoured up and drive around like this.  You of course make a run for it, but you're hurt, so the police get you in a dramatic foot chase televised on all the news channels.  Your vehicle, or what's left of it gets impounded and sent to the junk yard.  Since this is your third offense and there are so many other crimes involved, the judge sentences you to life in prison - noting he wishes you were in a state that allowed the death penalty for being such a complete idiot.  He's actually a friend of mine, he picked a 1955 Red / White Ford Fairlaine Sunliner as his car, he takes pretty good care of his and follows most all the rules - in his hard thinking that's why you should too.

Just as they are carrying you away to the punishment you deserve.  I stroll in, talk quietly to the judge for just a second and then he tells them to let you go.  I come over and hug you, telling you that I'm just glad you're ok.  I hand you the key to your car and tell you it's been fully repaired - just like new.  I hand you an envelope.  I explain that in it is your title and information on a financial trust that makes sure everything gets paid exactly like it should- plus there's a gas card in there that will always get paid no matter how much you use it (but just for gas, please).  I ask if you'll just drop by and see me between adventures and tell everybody what's been done for you. Maybe if you don't mind would you give a few of my imaginary dream cars away - I just gave you power of attorney over my assets to do that.  The last thing I ask you is to do your best to follow the traffic laws and treat others with kindness and respect.  Then they take me away to serve your sentence - justice must be met.  Enjoy the ride.

Would you throw the keys down and try to serve the sentence yourself (even though you can't) or go sell the car and walk everywhere you went denying there ever was a guy who gave out imaginary cars?
***
God gives us life and all that we need to live.  We choose to live apart from Him in ways that harm ourselves and others.  Christ takes the judgement due us and offers us a new, eternal, life.  We can embrace that redemption or throw it all down and walk into judgement.  

The last part, that's real... we've lived a life chargeable with offenses, the verdict is guilty, the Judge is perfect, the sentence is the death penalty- justice will be met. Either by Christ already given and served or by you if you'd prefer. 

Will you accept the keys to life from the nail scarred hands of Jesus Christ who died for you to be free from death?  Don't you believe God is the provider of your life and all that is in it, so much so that you would now live as He asks and caring for others the way He cares for you?  

Please don't throw the keys to life down.  Please don't try to serve the sentence yourself or deny that God gives you life and Christ died for you.
****
I hope you enjoy your refurbished imaginary dream car on the ride toward eternity.  
Let me know how it goes between adventures, would you?

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Learning Forever



My Grandfather always said and my Dad oft repeated,
"Learn something new everyday.'

Each day I try to look up that particular date on Wikipedia
and use that as a jumping point to learn something new.

For example, on this day in 27 BC, Octavianus was conferred by the Roman Senate with the titles 'Augustus' ("the Illustrious One" - as to his divine authority) and 'Princeps' ("the First Head" - as to his sovereign authority). He further styled himself 'Imperator Caesar divi filius' or 'Commander Caesar divine son' referring to his adoptive 'father' Gaius Julius Caesar, who was killed by Roman Senators fearful of the absolute powers Caser might have declared unto himself even though they kept declaring power unto him.

HAIL!!! Imperator Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus Divi Filius Augustus, now Supreme Ruler of Imperial Rome and the World.

"People of Rome, we are once again free."
"Ista quidem vis est!" [Why, this is violence!]

***
Everyday no matter what new thing I learn,
I learn a few things over and over again:

1) the same things have a tendency to happen again & again throughout history & our lives - even (and especially) if we try to prevent them

2) no matter how much we learn or develop ourselves or our society, we are still completely ignorant of most everything else even if we think we rule our little world

5) everybody dies, all kingdoms end, no person reigns supreme (for long), wars will rage on, and all people are flawed & foolish

***
To me, Octavian's greatest claim to fame is that he was briefly granted supreme power over the Mediterranean region, including a little backwoods hasmich called Judea, such that when as Augustus he ordered all his subjects to be registered for his own petty governmental purposes, he was really just causing the still pregnant mother of the real ruler and sovereign King of all to go to Bethlehem so as to fulfill God's prophetic revelation of Himself and His Son Jesus Christ.

God's majesty, Christ's grace and the Spirit's power are amazingly displayed throughout history and the lives of people. The question is whether we will look to our own momentary fame in this short life, maybe even by attempting to establish a legacy for ourselves or if we will embrace the everlasting glory of eternal life by acknowledging Christ's truth, which He has been working out from before creation and throughout time until He will fulfill His purposes.

Friday, January 11, 2013

a look left into glory



"This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice & be glad in it." Ps 118:23-24


God is master of the most beautiful moments & redeemer of the darkest ones. 

His glory shines through & His majesty is proclaimed. 


I am blessed to have even been made alive in it to see & express such. 

******

Let me share this story with you. I shot the picture above this morning from the intersection at the turnoff of our country roads onto the nearby highway. Early this week (Monday night), at this intersection one of our neighbors tried to turn from this highway onto this little country road and someone hit her from behind at full speed. The impact killed the 5 year old daughter in the back seat, caused injuries including brain damage to the 7 year old daughter which claimed her life Wednesday morning, and broke the mother's back leaving her paralyzed. Her blind husband was picked up from their house and taken to be with her. She is still in a hospital bed in critical condition. 

Every morning this week as I've come up to this intersection, I've become increasingly frustrated and upset about all of this. Mostly for my youngest daughter who played some with these girls and is now dealing with the emotions of loss including the big issues of God's sovereignty/goodness and the world's brokenness. Also for my wife who is struggling with the closeness of such a tragedy and the reality of how fragile this life truly is. Some for me and my guilt for not really knowing these people better by investing in their lives with interest, time and care. 

Now here's the kicker- I'm told that Dawn, the mother of these children, laying in a hospital bed on this side of such tragedy proclaims God's goodness and glory now and to come. This is astounding to me- I must honestly wonder in such circumstances how I would respond.

So as I argue with God this morning about all this, He gently reminds me of His ultimate goodness and I operate in my complete brokenness. I stop abruptly at the highway intersection I've come to pretty much hate this week and I curse it aloud. Then I look left to see the light of dawn breaking through the darkness, mine included.

It's not trite to say this. In fact it's impossible to say it. So much so that it can only be the worship of a broken heart which knows Christ has overcome death and the fallenness of this world and me particularly- empowered by the Holy Spirit screaming out only what it hears: 

"This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice & be glad in it." Ps 118:23-24

God is master of the most beautiful moments & redeemer of the darkest ones. 

His glory shines through and His majesty is proclaimed.

I am blessed to have even been made alive in it to see & express such.

****

Maybe you don't know that Jesus, the Son of God, came through the darkness to show God's glory to the world. Maybe you need to hear today that the light of the Spirit can shine brightly in your life even when circumstances seem their worst. Tragic horrible things happen in this life because of sin and brokenness. We can argue with God and curse this fallen world or we can turn and look into His glory. We can embrace the love of a Father who sent His only Son from that glory to this mess of life to live the life we can never live, die the death we deserve to die and to become our resurrection into glory. 

I'm honest enough to admit that while I believe Jesus Christ is my Savior and Lord, this faith is still being worked out in my heart moment by moment in the power of the Holy Spirit. I can only trust in Him to do that. I pray you can to.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Le Temps de la Vie


assis sur le porche,
ce matin froid et pluvieux,
en écoutant les gouttes,
qui tombent une à une,
L'éternel murmure dans mon âme,
la vie n'est pas destinée à être mesurée, 
donc je pourrais essayer de faire pour moi,
mais il souffla dans l'être
comme l'expression,
de la gloire de Dieu
clairement déjà connu,
que la pluie tombe
pour faire toutes choses nouvelles,
y compris coeur brisé mon

***
The Weather of Life

sitting on the front porch,
this cold wet morning,
listening to the drops,
falling one by one,
the Eternal whispers into my soul,
life is not meant to be measured,
so I might try to make for myself,
but breathed into being
as the expression,
of the glory of God
clearly already known,
that the rain falls
to make everything new,
including my broken heart

My Walk In Life


This... this is the artwork of my walk in life. One particular Saturday morning many months ago, I awoke fairly early to find myself in a dark place. For the previous several weeks I had been in really bad shape. My body had been physically sick for quite a while, I was emotionally drained due to family & work stresses, and I was struggling spiritually with very large issues of who God is and my identity in Him.

I really could have just laid in the bed and given up at that point, but that particular morning I felt compelled to get up and go for a walk. Now, in the last year my physical exercise had been about as limited as my understanding of cosmetology & skin care. So this old fat man dug out some tennis shoes and shorts and hoofed it 2.5m around the local country roads.

The halfway point of anything, especially a walk, is a funny thing unless you know exactly how far the end is. Halfway for me was that point where I better turn around, be awful sure the total circle back was not too far for me to make it OR be willing to wake my poor wife up to come meet me at the ER. Just as I was contemplating this particular point of turning back, pressing forward, cutting through the woods straight home, or falling over- covered in sweat, unable to get even a half of my regular half breath, and just about to make that phone call to my sleeping wife to explain why she needed to come get her idiot husband- I looked up at this scene.

The road stretched out before me, enveloped by a canopy covering of trees with darkness and shadows filling the view. My body hurting, head hurting, and my heart hurting. I wiped the sweat and maybe even some tears from my eyes and coughed up the junk in my lungs. No inhaler in my pocket, not a wise choice for an asthmatic with bronchitis and probably walking pneumonia.

As my fevered body stood shaking, I couldn't help but think I must be imagining the way the light pierced the darkness and danced on the ground. At the end of the long road, there was a clear end in sight- light coming into my view as well. I clicked the phone in my hand to life and shot this picture. I stood marveling at my stupidity, God's glory, Christ's mercy, and the power of His Spirit working in brokenness.

That God pierces the darkness with His majestic light awes me even to the point of fear. That Jesus would cross from eternity to this life and from this life to death on a cross for me so I could stand in God's light without fear shakes me to my very soul. That the very Spirit of God that raised Him to the light of life from the darkness of the grave does the same with my darkened heart constantly by empowering it to believe in Christ as Lord & Savior is absolutely breathtaking.

Life is not an easy journey, it can become a struggle just to breath. We even place ourselves in dangerous situations or just wallow in self-pity. If we look to the light, the darkness seems to fade and the path takes on a very different purpose. We might even be able to express it in some form to the One who made it, ourselves and others.

I kept walking forward after I caught my breath. I followed the road home to my family who was waiting there for me and shared the story of my adventure. They laughed at my silliness and were encouraged by God's greatness. I hope you enjoyed it too.


Monday, October 8, 2012

the bad wolf & greater One


CONSIDER:
'Rejoice with those who rejoice, 
weep with those who weep.' 
Romans 12:15

At this, I am an abject failure. 
Why does the condition of my heart tend toward darkness,
except that I tend such darkness in it. 

How can I extend truly unselfish compassionate love,
except that I have first received and constantly dwell on 
and in such as Christ has given and shown to me.

I am certain that the simple point of my enjoyment at someone else's ills,
 no matter how well deserved, is ill in my heart.

Moreover, my illness at their enjoyment, 
no matter how unsavory, 
I 
judge them to be, 
is still judgement & rather unsavory on my part. 

I am convinced our world exists top left to bottom right 
and the Kingdom exists bottom left to top right.

These are oft to intersect on singular occasion 
caught in the moment of purest sacrifice- 
bloody as all sacrifices must be.

Every moment is full of 
judgement & the blood of men
OR grace & the blood of Christ.

Only at the cross may we
shift thus between the two ways.
Ours so momentary failing forever 
and Christ's eternal now preserving.