Why I Went To Church Today

Psalms 122:1 I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go into the house of the LORD."

It is more than right for me as a follower of Christ and it is more than good for me today. That is why I am glad to be in church with my friends this morning.

122:2 Our feet have been standing Within your gates, O Jerusalem!

Together we will stand be it triumph or trial.

122:3 Jerusalem is a well-built city; its seamless walls cannot be breached.

If together we stand with the Lord between us, what could then come against us that we could not stand against.

122:6 Pray for peace in Jerusalem. May all who love this city prosper.

The city today for me is this church I attend and am a part of. As the circle goes outward it embraces all whom I am a part of followed by the mystical Church of Christ His Bride.

Pray for that peace, and pray that all those connections prosper in that peace.

122:7 O Jerusalem, may there be peace within your walls and prosperity in your palaces.

It is inside these walls, built of my friends, that I find peace.

122:8 For the sake of my family and friends, I will say, "May you have peace."

For the sake of those that know you Lord, I will keep on, that they may keep on.

For the sake of those that do not yet know you, I will pray they find their peace in You.

122:9 For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek what is best for you, O Jerusalem.

For the sake of my local church, I will seek what is best for You My God.

The best for You Lord is the best for me.

That is why I went to church today.

One Good King

Just ONE good King,

is all that we ask,

to rule o’er us.

He’ll carry the banner,

and take all the heat.

Protect us in trial,

never knowing defeat.

Give us today our REAL daily bread.

But,

look how often,

WE have us OUR king,

Look in the mirror,

beholding that king!

Who does not serve,

But only his needs.

He’s of trifling power,

Full of injustice and weak.

How quickly his feet,

do run to do evil.

So, crack the mirror!

Break the glass!

and offer his throne

to the One true King.

Seek His justice!

Cry out for mercy!

Make the Christ,

Your one true King.

Just ONE good King,

is all that we ask.

Honor the Mystery of God

The moment I think I know something about God, is the moment I have slipped over an edge. I may know what God has revealed about Himself in scripture, but does that really hold God to my interpretation of those printed words?

I know that I don’t know and I am OK with that. I can give God as much space as he needs in my life. Then and only then can God really be God in my life.

Honor as a verb- means we should handle the mystery with weight, gravity and due respect, and that we accept as valid God’s right to be mysterious and not tell us everything.

If we don’t allow God that privilege, we are holding Him to our own ideas. If His boundaries are the leather cover on our bibles, He’s just not very powerful.

Imagine just for a moment if you would that the God who spoke the universe into existence, with four little words, as the bible said, would be held captive by the printed word.

Sounds silly put that way doesn’t it? Let’s try another.

Do you think God is in heaven looking down at us with a smirk, tapping his foot waiting until we have grieved, tarried, fasted and prayed just enough? And then he says, “OK, that’s just the right amount, I will answer now.”

Would you even want to put all your trust and faith in a God that could be manipulated like a Chevy could be by a Chilton’s manual. For all you young whippersnappers out there, long before Google, and even computers; mechanics and even do-it-yourselfers such as this man was, would buy or borrow a Chilton’s manual and it could tell you how to assemble, disassemble, rebuild and repair any part on any car, considering that you had the correct manual to go with your car.

Could God really be handled like that? Is the Bible a manual for God or US? (Hint-Look in the mirror.) And, Before you want to burn me at the stake, I do believe the Bible to be the inspired word of God.

If I “Honor the Mystery of God,” I will pray, fast and be confident that God has answered my prayer, and if I don’t see what I want, well, that’s the mystery.

If we miss the mystery, we miss out on some of the best parts of our relationship, but if we will allow Him room to do what He wants, without us understanding what the heck He is doing, it will free us up to enjoy Him and clear a lot of religious wreckage out of the way.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism states that Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.

We can enjoy life, if we enjoy God, Jesus says to be of good cheer in the middle of trial, tragedy and heartbreak. It is in the midst of these things that “honoring the mystery of God” does us the most good.

I know that I don’t know and I am OK with that..

James says, “if we doubt we are like a ship tossed in the sea.” What if we would trust the direction of the ship to the Lord? We’re sailing, keeping the course but following the wind and current he gives us. The destination is the answer to the mystery.

1Corinthians 2:7 But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the ages for our glory,

God hides things for us to find later.

1Corinthians 2:9 That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him."

One of my favorite passages,

Proverbs 25:2 It is God's privilege to conceal things and the king's privilege to discover them.

I would rather discover than memorize.. wink wink

Scary God

I must confess that stories of serial killers and deranged angry people interest me to no end. I like scary stories, thrillers and plots with twists and turns that shock you. I like to read Stephen King, who everyone in the world knows. I also like Ted Dekker’s books who is the Christian version of Stephen King. Ted Dekker also has sold millions of books, but certain dusty little corners of Christendom have never heard of him. That is because it is taboo or against the rules to read fiction, especially horror. I don’t understand this when taken against the backdrop of the bible, which if you made an accurate movie about would certainly be rated NC-17 if not X (and we read these stories to children).

In dark little corners of the church world, reading Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and on and on and on, are frowned upon. I guess that’s because the bible is true and fiction is, well, not true. 

If you ever read a good fiction book, you related to the characters, you nodded with their thoughts and saw yourself in their shoes.The bible on the other hand, at best most believe its history and say just like a good little boy or girl,

“I believe the bible is the inerrant word of God,” or some other rote kind of line they saw on the church website. You may even self-talk yourself into believing it. But, you don’t see yourself in it, you can’t often relate to the characters, especially God himself.

One minute He’s all gushy soft and cradling you to sleep under the shadow of his wings, and the next minute his fiery indignation is pouring out wrath. Jesus, the Lamb of God is ‘slain’ from the foundations of the earth, yet how many make Him out to be some Ghandi-type peacenik? I thought lambs were supposed to be nice and fluffy, not brutally murdered and left hanging on a cross to die a torturous death. (Hold on a minute, let me catch my breath).

I believe our modern society has done a good job of scrubbing up God and reworking His Image into something palatable. While real horrors upon horrors mount up around us, society has sanitized God to either make him a lifeless icon open to debate about his existence or an un-politically correct, judgmental warmonger, disallowed in our advanced and modern society. 

And, somewhere in-between he is a cross between Mister Rogers and William Wallace (as portrayed in the movie Braveheart). So which will it be folks? Mister Rogers or Braveheart?

As the Mister Rogers God, He just welcomes all to the neighborhood as he sits smiling in his unfashionable sweater sharing nice unoffending platitudes with all. He does not scare me, He is a sappy pushover.

As the ‘Braveheart’ God, He is a brokenhearted warrior seeking freedom and justice for the apple of his eye who has been violently brutalized and murdered by tyrants. He is now on a bloody rampage to set them free at any cost. He is uncontrollable and frightening.

I pick Braveheart God. As I said before about fiction, there is more truth revealed there than all the truth we can ‘conjure’ up.

Oh, and for all you overly sensitive religious types let me back it up with a little ‘scripture’.

Nahum 1:5  In His presence the mountains quake, and the hills melt away; the earth trembles, and its people are destroyed.

  ⁶Who can stand before His fierce anger? Who can survive His burning fury? His rage blazes forth like fire, and the mountains crumble to dust in His presence.

This scares the HELL out of me. (But, I like this God)

I am also very relieved that it goes on to say…...

  ⁷The LORD is good, a strong refuge when trouble comes. He is close to those who trust in Him.

  ⁸But He will sweep away His enemies in an overwhelming flood. He will pursue His foes into the darkness of night.

  If we would ever see God as He is, we would be quite frightened indeed, but we could also be comforted that this scary God is scary for me, if only I will trust Him to do what He does with the world He created.

God and Babies

God and Babies

"Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" ^{Matthew 18:1}

 (Jesus’ disciples asked this question) It wasn’t a religious doctrine question. It was a human question.

If their question didn’t “cut to the quick” of the matter the answer from Jesus did. Cut to the quick is when you trim your fingernail too short and it starts to bleed. You’ve cut into the flesh.

The disciples weren’t afraid to ask it, but I’m sure they were surprised, as they often were, when Jesus brought a little child in their midst. Then Jesus said unless you become like an infant you won’t enter the kingdom of heaven.

Farther on Jesus said that if you receive one ‘little’ child like this, you receive Him. Remember, He came to us as a helpless baby.

An infant doesn’t even think about that question “who’s great?”

Recently an infant has come into my life, I am 55 years old, little JoJo is 11 WEEKS old and up until we met I was baby adverse, meaning I felt uncomfortable holding, changing, feeding babies etc. All based on my own selfishness. I have raised my kids, the youngest is twenty-seven.

JoJo was stuck in a toxic environment lacking substantial nurture and peace. He had little chance of thriving. His natural options were limited. He didn’t have much of a chance.

Well, I can’t explain it but, I looked into the face of that infant and I saw GOD. (Not that he really was God, stay with me.) It was not a vision, I wasn’t planning on it, and the next thing I know, the baby cracked a smile and tears flooded my cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not this way. (Remember Mike, you don’t do babies.)

Now, only a few weeks later, through a series of divine circumstances, I am the legal guardian of little JoJo. Without me he can do nothing. He cannot eat drink or clean himself. He cannot go anywhere without me. He loves me.

He doesn’t love me because I take care of him. His thoughts are probably not that sophisticated. The same day I met that little guy, he looked into my eyes and I could hear him say, “Save Me.” He didn’t look pitiful, he looked happy, like he knew what would happen.

This is what Jesus was saying, unless you be converted or literally changed back into a little infant, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. Now this means to live under his rule, reign and care.

Without Jesus I am living in a toxic environment without a chance of success. I need to put my helpless little self into his absolute care.

I need to be as dependent on God as JoJo is on me.

I need to worry less about if he will and just put myself in his hands.

I need to love God because He is, not for what he does.

My thoughts about greatness need to be simple or nonexistent.

Little JoJo is worried about nothing.

He is at peace in my care.

His only cry is “save me.”

Jesus said “anyone who welcomes a little child like this on My behalf is welcoming Me.”

That’s a pretty wild statement. Jesus made lots of them.

Once upon a time, God handed his helpless little SELF into frail human hands. One slip and the plan could have been over. He trusted us and therefore sealed the greatest relationship that could ever be. God and man.

“Save Me”

Fairy Tale Anyone?

According to Wikipedia, a  Fairy tale is a type of short narrative that typically features characters, such as fairies, goblins, elves, trolls, dwarves, giants or gnomes, with some magic and enchantments thrown in.

However, only a small number of the stories refer to fairies.

In less technical contexts, the term is also used to describe ‘something’ blessed with unusual happiness, as in "fairy tale ending" or “a happy ending,” though not all fairy tales end happily.

If you have gone this far, thank you for your patience there really is a point to make, hopefully.

This thought was spurred (no pun intended) as I was thinking of my closest friend, definitely not a fairy. A real man’s man if there ever was one. A bull riding (see the possible pun now), gold mining, explosives and repair anything man. Add to that story a  life of wasted (literally) youth and  destruction. Picture a drunken cowboy roaring around the desert in a beat up car ending too many nights sick or in jail.

Nowadays he works to heal this world.

If it had not been for the grace of God inserting itself in his life, the story would not have the fairy tale ending it does. (see now my fairy tale idea)

Amazing but true.

It even has its share of goblins, elves, trolls, dwarves, giants or gnomes, and even some magic or enchantments. (Can you say fantastic tests and trials of faith?)

In a non-fairy-tale world, unexplainable tragedies don’t befall the average person of goodness and faith. But they do and they did. And still the fairy tale life continues.

I have had one of those fairy tale lives too, full of goblins and ghouls but with an ending that is so stupendously happy it defies belief or logic.

Neither of these tales could have occurred without another story that many regard as merely a fairy tale.

A Creator God desperately in love with His creation inserts himself into his creation, as one of them. Starting as a helpless baby. Completely dependent on his own frail and failing creation.

One slip and God manifest would be no longer.

That baby grows to be a man. Perfect man that wanted to love all and do good.

Religious authorities plot to exterminate him. They nail Him to a cross and he dies the most brutal death imaginable(you know the story). 

He comes back to life three days later and hangs around for another forty days before going back to heaven.

The fairy tale ending is that the story itself has the power to bring fairy tale endings to so many desperate broken lives.

Too bad, that many good and ‘bad’ people decide that the way they are is good enough and never believe the tale.

Hence, no fairy tale life for them.

I love my fairy tale life.

Judge Not

Judge not, that you be not judged.

                             –Jesus

I know what you are thinking. Yes, I have already judged you just like I judged that nameless person that was walking out of FoodsCo, right before I started writing this.

I have judged you because I think I know what you are thinking. Probably the same thing I would be thinking if I saw a blog post titled ‘Judge Not.’

Seeing the title, and considering I was a Christian, I might assume what it was about without reading IT. Ah! That cute little word ‘assume,’ a veritable sermon in itself, a silent little preacher hidden away in six typed letters.

Heck, as a ‘good’ Christian I might assume that this blog would be a tirade about how all 'those other people’ shouldn’t judge anyone, especially people we consider to be ‘outsiders’ of the church. Those other people that aren’t as kind, loving and Christ-like as us.

I might assume that this blog was about not judging other people’s churches because they sing, don’t sing, clap, don’t clap, or the ever more controversial, “Do they dunk or sprinkle?” The list goes on doesn’t it. But, none of us reading this do this. Do we?

Or, I might make the assumption, that this post is about ‘those’ religious, legalistic Christians, you know the ones with all ‘their’ rules and regulations. The ones who go around judging everyone else.
That ‘might’ be a good assumption, considering the hands typing this are held on by arms with tattoos of snakes, dragons and death’s-heads.

Or, better yet, since those arms are attached to a preacher, that this blog would be just another sermon about how we shouldn’t judge anybody no how, nowhere, and being so sure that sermon was only meant for other people and not us, we might pass it up.

     Perhaps, if you happen to be an unbeliever, atheist or just didn’t care one way or another about God, the universe, religion or anything else, you might pass it up as just another sign of how hypocritical those Christians really are.

But if you are reading this, you probably didn’t make any of those ASSUMPTIONS, or JUDGMENTS.

You be the judge.

The world needs more people like you.

Kingdoms Of The Heart

          Ten desperate lepers cried out to Christ. Hearing, Jesus told them to go to the priest as the law required, and as they went they were healed. Imagine, if you will, the joy, the celebration that went through the ten on finding they were healed.

Only one turned around to thank the Healer.

     Imagine in our case, if it was cancer, the joy we would have if Jesus spoke and we were healed just as we were headed to our chemotherapy session. We would be dancing in the streets, calling our friends, even telling strangers what had happened to us. If we were standing in line at Taco Bell when it happened, we would be screaming and telling the whole store.

     How soon would it be that we got around to turning to God? How soon before we bowed our knee and heart in prayer?

     How soon was it after we found out we had cancer that we asked God to heal? How soon was it that it became a request on Facebook for people to pray?

     I am a self-centered person, I care more about me than you even know, or perhaps you do. If you asked my friends though, you may get a different answer.

     I know me, and I have learned that there are four people in the universe that I have not successfully fooled.

Me, Myself, I and God.

Maybe Me, Myself and I are fooled some of the time, but God? Never.

     Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God is within me.” ^{Luke 17:21}

This should scare, amaze and perplex the bejesus out of us, no pun intended.

     But, I have come to realize that there also are competing kingdoms ‘within us’ constantly battling for superiority.

All too well Illustrated for me this very morning.

     My wife asked me, “What is this withdrawal from our bank account for?” Instead of responding with a simple explanation, the Kingdom of Self and Money kicked into gear.

     The archers were sent to the walls, the drawbridge was raised and the moat was restocked with more alligators. Admittedly, I was even surprised at the rise of this kingdom.

I did manage to explain, and it was something inconsequential, and we went peacefully about our day.

     That’s why I was so surprised at the rise and full alert status of the Kingdom of Money within me. Money had joined forces with the Kingdom of Self. I was thankful that they didn’t mount an all-out assault; that would have been ugly. They did go into full alert defense though, until I explained and the threat went away. Keep me out of trouble here, the threat was not my wife, it was my self-interest and comfort zone.

     Ah yes! There is yet another kingdom. Is there anyone that doesn’t love to live in the Kingdom of Comfort and Pleasure? I picture the King of Comfort sitting in plush pillows or a nice recliner as pretty girls bring platters of ribs and bowls of chips at the snap of his fingers. They change the channel or fluff the pillows at his slightest whim, never debating about what he is watching, nor ever speaking unless spoken too. The King of Comfort even has people to make all his decisions for him, including when to send the archers on the wall.

     There is a multitude of kingdoms all battling for supremacy, within me.

     Yet another, and I won’t mention the details, is the Kingdom of Sex. I only know about the male side, the female side is a mystery that I have learned little about.

     Would you like one or two more? I thought you would.

     The Kingdom of Time could be the most brutal and vicious of them all. The Kingdom of Time rules with an iron fist, yet on observation seems loose, disorderly and out of control. The King keeps all of his time in an underground vault guarded by well-armed troops, ready to fight if even one second is stolen or lost.

     Employers, spouses, acquaintances and even loved ones are often the archenemies of time. The Kingdom of Time is ruled by the Kingdom of Mine which is the brutal over-lord of both Money, Comfort and Time. Mine has huge armies it sends out in mass, hard to detect, they are masters of camouflage. It wears many masks of Charity, Faith, Hope and Love. It’s King’s name is Self Interest, changing his color at whim.

     One more Kingdom to go, the most powerful yet. A defender of the host and the giver of Life, Hope, and Love.

The Kingdom of God.

The arch-enemy of the Kingdom’s of Money, Self, Sex, Comfort and Time. The only way that the kings win; by our allegiance till death, sworn and fulfilled.

Question to self?

Will it be the Kingdom of Money, Self, Sex, Comfort or Time?

Or the Kingdom of Life, Hope and Love?

    

Jesus told the one leper, "Stand up and go. Your faith has healed you." Luke 17:19   

I Was A Different Person Then

I was a different person then,

Before the stormy hurricane,

Hard it blew upending roots,

Broken branches, scattered leaves,

Once, tall and proud with stout support,

Base gave way, near blew away,

But Grace held firm its Loving Hand,

I was a different person then,

Leaves turned yellow and fell away,

Drying branches littered ground,

Before the storm it struck again,

I was a different person then,

Despairing roots reached Grace’s Hand,

Thirsty soul so parched and dry,

Life’s New water found its way,

I was a different person then,

From dry and scaly branches spread,

Greening life, but still real bland,

The weakest limb it reached for life,

Screaming out with desperate plea,

I was a different person then,

One leaf shot forth, another still,

Till flowers bloomed and seed burst forth,

She walked by and stood in wonder,

I was a different person then.

                                                -MichaelT  2011

Divine Madness

Divinely Mad,

Madness Divine,

What kind of madness ever could be?

Even to think that God could be Mad.

Not ever angry, nor even real sad,

But Insane Divinity, not ever to blame.

Omnipotent Madness made us all very sane,

Insanity Divine formed us all pure and sinless.

All in our power, but one little tree,

That one little tree would cause us to be,

Broken and marred, ashamed and weighed down.

But Omnipotent Madness, would not let us drown.

Wallowed in mire, tragic indeed,

‘till the Madness of God,

Hung His Son on a tree.

Bleeding and dying, all the world did He see,

Forgive them! He cried,

as He suffered and died.

But, the story’s not over, there’s more yet to come,

Buried , entombed, and wrapped in fine linen,

Three days in the ground, all hope was not given.

Divine Madness kicked in,

                                Let’s raise Him again!!

So, in Power and Glory, Christ rose once again.

Some don’t believe, but five-hundred did see,

Disciples and friends, all followers indeed.

What will it take for the truth you to see?

Divinity died for you and for me.

Perhaps for a good man, some would dare die,

But ragged old sinners, cast offs and lame?

How hard to believe that God is still sane?

                                -Michael T 2011

Needy, Weak and Sinful (Men)

Jesus as the God-man who walked the earth was closest to the needy, weak and sinful.

Jesus Christ is also at this present time close to the needy, weak and sinful.

                I love this fact, it’s great and I celebrate it, but as a man I don’t want to be the needy, weak and sinful one that he’s close to. I want to be close to Christ, but as a man,  I want to be self-assured, confident, comfortable in my own skin, strong, completely pure, whole and holy. As a man I want to come to Jesus standing straight up with chest stuck out and the medals of my victories pinned firmly to my breast and the trophies of my conquests gripped proudly in my hands, so that I can show him what a good disciple I have been. I want Christ to look at me with pride in His eyes and give me the well done, good and faithful speech.

But, if I look down deep in my heart, it says that I really want to be the Man that did it, that conquered, that won, even though it was Jesus all along who conquered and won.

Along with us men, Jesus yearns and dies for us to be assured in Him, confident in Him, comfortable in Him and completely pure, whole and holy, in Him.

But, I have found that  what I want  to be, what I see myself as, and what I really am, are two different things entirely. How about you?

Just ask your wife or your mother who you really are. No wait, that won’t work, they are our wives and mothers and love us too much to tell us the truth. Perhaps at this point it would be wise to ask a trusted and mature mentor or pastor who we really are. Better yet, ask Jesus Himself. He is sure to answer and will give you the truth without worrying about whether we get our feelings hurt or not.

Let’s get brutally honest for a moment. I love brutal honesty as long as it’s me and not you. (That’s some more brutal honesty with a twist of humor based in truth.)

In the spirit of Christ I don’t really want you to be needy, weak and sinful either. But, if you are, I have the utmost compassion, my heart cries out for your healing and I’ll pray for you, minister to you, and give you some good advice. Some of which I have learned along the way and hopefully follow. But, I just don’t want to be the one that’s needy weak and sinful.

As a man this is all hard to reckon with in my own life.

When I spend so much effort worrying about my own power, am I missing His? Am I throwing the baby out with the bath water? Perhaps.

I could go on and on and tell you how to deal with this in your life. I really know how, but as Paul said in Romans 7:18 …for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. Since this really is the case, I guess I truly am needy, weak and sinful, and as long as I keep this perspective Christ can help me, and along the way I will learn to be the Christ-assured, Christ-confident, and Christ –strong man that will cause His eyes to fill with pride and His mouth utter the words, “Well done good and faithful”.

Because you say, 'I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing'—and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked— I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich; and white garments, that you may be clothed, that the shame of your nakedness may not be revealed; and anoint your eyes with eye salve, that you may see.' -Jesus as recorded in Revelation 3:17-18

The Writer

The Writer wrote and Light came out,

Splitting darkness, He called it Day.

Heavens formed His next line,

Water, Sky as Beauty spread.

He called the coasts from Sea to be.

Hung the Moon on unseen stand,

Jupiter, Sun and Saturn too.

With spinning motion Writer sent.

Night and day O’ not alike,

Sets my time from here to there.

Time makes music to be heard.

“Arise! and read the tale” the Writer spoke.

With unseen pen and His own hand,

He sprinkled sky with heaven’s host.

The Writer’s fancy running wild,

Elephants, Zebras, and Lions too,

Animals countless and each unique.

“Man” He wrote, “come rule it all!”

Trusted creature, blameless now,

As Writers love came spilling out.

“I write to know what I’m about.”

Creature fled as Writer wrote.

Breaking the bonds as Ink ran out.

Thinking free ‘they’ settled in.

Our own existence, ours to write!

As Writer wrote, they wrote their own.

Owning history their stories wrote.

Wars and rumors, nations, lands.

Prophets, Priests and Poet Kings.

From spear to sword then cannon fear.

Ships set sail and found ‘new’ lands.

Creature spread both far and near.

Writer wrote as cities rose.

The Writer’s dream was not it seemed.

Inscribing history His characters fled.

Writers Pen, the blood it bled,

Spilled the Ink as creatures flee,

Blood red with sorrow n’er to end.

Writer come and hold my hand,

Guiding nudge towards heavens land.

The story write with Pen that bled.

The Wedding

The Wedding

“Mom! ‘I really,really want you to go with me and the boys’ It’s going to be such a grand party!”
Josh pleaded with his mom about going to Mary and Andrew’s upcoming wedding at Khirbet Kana.

“It would mean so much to them  if you would be there,” He said, as Mom stood there with an unconvinced look on her face. 

Josh usually got his way with Mom if he pleaded long enough. Josh was her first born and her favorite, as unpopular as that was with his siblings.

“Andy and I have had a lot of good times together, and  I really hate to lose him to marriage.”
Josh thought, as he reminisced about all the good times they had.  “He really ‘was' a lot of fun to have around, the life of the party.” Andrew had ‘fallen hard’ for Mary and vice versa.

Pleading again with his mother, he added.

“ It’s on Wednesday and starts at noon.”

His mother sternly replied, “You know how they like to party, it could go on for days, and I have so much to do around here, what with your Dad being gone for this past year, and your brothers and sisters are less and less help the older they get.”

Josh was pacing back and forth now, like a lion trapped in a cage, as he sparred with his mom, trying to convince her to go along with his plan.

“Come on Mom! It really would mean a lot to them, and me. I promise I will sit with you the whole time, and whatever you want, I’ll get it for you, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

She never was able to resist Josh’s insistence. After all, he was such a good boy.
She said “OK!!, I’ll go if it really means that much to you.”

She really was ‘touched’ that he wanted her there so bad. She had often felt excluded even knowing that was not the intention. “It was just a woman thing to feel that way,” She figured.

“And Mom…by the way, ‘Could you bring a lamb, cooked the way everyone likes it?’”

“I knew it!” She ‘lovingly’ screamed with a look of feigned surprise on her face as she chased him out the door.

“Now! Josh, you go out and cut the firewood and kill the lamb!”
“Ok mom, ‘no problem’ I’ll do anything you want and added, ‘I really do want you there more than your succulent, mouth-watering and tasty lamb.” He said as he winked cutely at his mom.

---------*---------

Wedding parties in this part of the world were known to go on for up to a week, so Josh’s mom spent the next couple of days making sure that there was enough food prepared for his brothers and sisters. Mom was like that, and Josh thought that they should fend for themselves, thinking, ‘Mom’ was forever doting on them as if they were little children, and they were all nearly grown.

Besides having to cook all those meals, she cooked the lamb Josh wanted. It was her specialty and she was known far and wide for her scrumptious roast lamb. She would have the servants transport it there, ones that she could spare from taking care of Josh’s brothers and sisters.

The day came to leave for the wedding and Josh’s mom spent the day buying a gift and putting the finishing touches on her lamb.

“Mom,” said Josh. “Aren’t you about ready to go? We want to get there before the bride and groom do, so we won’t miss any of the wedding”. “Hold your horses big boy!” said his mom. “Slow and steady wins the race, don’t you know?”

Josh and his mom traveled from their home city to Khirbet Kana, three miles away by foot. It was a long and dusty walk hauling the lamb.

“You know I’m doing this as a favor to Mary and Andrew, I just want you to know that.” She repeated for the fifteenth time, but she was Mom and it would have been futile and dangerous for his health to point that out.

Besides, Josh really was a good kid, and for a man of thirty years old he did not have any of the wreckage that most of us accumulate in the vapor trail of our life. There were no drunken parties like some of his brothers had been a part of.

If you knew Josh, you knew that he was just good, to the point of ridiculously good, but if he knew it, he didn’t show it. He was just one of the guys, and there was nothing off-color, not to mention bad, that you could blame him for. Perhaps, the worst was standing up to his mom a couple of times. And once, when he was hanging out with his best friends (outside the family), his mom and brothers and sisters had wanted him to come with them and he had refused saying that his friends were his real family.

That had really ‘frosted’ his mom, but even that slight  could be forgiven, considering there were no other offenses that could really be laid at his feet. No one had really understood that one, until later.

When they got to the wedding, the host was so glad to see them, he took their coats and shoes, exclaiming profusely that “they were just in time”. He even gave them the best seat in the house after Josh had tried to sit in the back.

The place was “buzzing” with excitement. The wine was flowing, and when mom’s lamb was served out, the place erupted with joy. The talk was flowing and large platters of succulent lamb were being passed around.

The last toast by the host of the party was so ‘colorfully’ full of humor and life that the crowd was still humming and laughing for a good five minutes later. One overly overweight man tipped over backwards with his glass in one hand and a leg of lamb in another, crushing the wooden chair that was under him, still laughing as he took another bite.

The crowd erupted in a new wave of hilarity.

The wine was really having it’s effect. The servers were busily going from glass to glass trying to keep them all full when slowly the happy party noise began to subside and one guest after another was being politely told that there was no more wine.

No one really complained or made a fuss, but a slight damper was put on the hilarity of the event. When the servers began to clean up and serve water, the same happy faces, began to chill even more.

The incredible lamb that mom had brought was now a disheveled pile of scraps and bones in the center of the immense table.

Turning towards Josh, Mom ‘matter of factly’  said “they have no wine”.

Now you and I both know that when our mom turns to us and says ‘they have no wine’, this can only mean one thing, “go get some”.  This crowd was at least a hundred and fifty people, and they had drunk lots of wine. There was a good buzz going and this party was going to be done if some life could not be injected back into it. These were not winos or drunks, but good people and business men, and there was no fear of it erupting into a riot or fights starting if they didn’t get any more wine, unlike some other parties in the region.

But, it would have been a shame to see such a great party come to such a blah end so soon.
“They have no wine,” Mom said turning to her son Josh.

“Woman! What am I supposed to do about that?” Said Josh somewhat sternly. “It’s not the time for that”.

“Woman! ‘Don’t take that tone with me!’” She said discreetly, but not unheard, not wanting a scene at the party.

If the crowd hadn’t been quieted by running out of food and wine, they sure were quieted by this. You know those times when the absolute wrong thing has been said at absolutely the wrong time? A hush that thickens the air in the room like cold gravy and tastes even worse.
Or,  when a fight is about to start in the wrong place, like at a wedding.

Then, turning to the waiters, Mom said, “Whatever he says to you, do it.” What was Josh to do? He groaned deep within his guts, but not so deep that his mom didn’t hear a little rumble.

She shot him “the look”. All you men know what I mean by “the look”. What was Josh to do? Risk a full blown fight? That had never even come close to happening in all his thirty years, and it wasn’t about to happen now.

Off to the side, Josh saw six casks, about twenty or thirty gallons each, that were used to hold drinking water. He grabbed a couple of the servers and told them to fill them with water from the tap.

“Fill them to the brim.”

When that was done, he said, “Draw some out now, and take it to the host.”
Taking the glass and tipping it to his lips, you could see his eyes light up and the smile show through the glass. He hadn’t a clue where the wine had come from, but the servers knew.

He began to profusely rave to the bridegroom about how honorable and great a man he was because he had saved the best wine for last. He brought the bridegroom Andrew to the head of the table and had him stand up, and in front of everyone began to renew a new series of glowing toasts.

The wine that had been drunk wasn’t the only thing causing the glow at the table.

Andrew’s bride was beaming with pride at her man, Mom was radiant with joy at her ‘Good Son” and the party was buzzing again.

The only witnesses to the ‘real miracle’ were the lowly waiters that filled the water casks.

Joshua was the Life of the party and made everyone look good.

This beginning of signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory;
and His disciples believed in Him.

Gospel of John 2:11

The Race

"Could it possibly be true?" he exclaimed, so loudly that he thought it was only inside his head. He jumped up from the table, and the chair flew back landing on the floor, a clay pitcher spilling wine across the table and running off onto the floor. The crumbs from the broken loaf of bread that he was nibbling from still clung to his lips and broken chunks of bread were scattered across the table, as he ran for the door.

Simon's wife shouted angrily behind him, "What on earth has gotten into you?" What do you mean running out the door like this and leaving this mess behind?” Come back here!” Simon didn’t have time for this kind of drama right now. “Why does this kind of conflict always seems to happen at the wrong time?” he thought to himself, but didn’t dare say aloud.

The last three years of his life had been like a dream that had bred with a nightmare and created a beautiful but challenging child.

He had left the family business, much to the consternation and disapproval of his father and mother, needless to say his wife. Oddly, it was his mother-in-law that was his most avid supporter, this wasn’t always so, but had all changed when something more than amazing, perhaps a miracle, had completely healed her, while she was laying at death’s door.

Before the “miracle” she was always at odds with Simon. When her daughter wanted to marry him, she was completely against it. She wanted her to marry  Nathaniel, “that nice boy from down the street”. She did everything within her power to keep her daughter from marrying Simon, causing as much difficulty between the two as she could ethically tolerate.

 "I just have to go and see for myself!" Simon said, as he rushed ever faster making for the door. "You aren't going to believe those idle tales are you? " His wife mockingly said, her anger and hurt escalating as she continued on saying, “When are you going to realize that you have wasted the last three years of your life, when you could have been building the family business and taking care of things at home?”  ‘that woman is just a busybody, she always has some crazy story that she is telling all the neighbors. Besides, you know what kind of woman she is.’ Are you really going to listen to what that whore has to say, and at one word from her go running off? ’What about me?’ There's things to do around here!"

Mary had run through the whole neighborhood with the most unbelievable news, so unbelievable in fact, that no one believed her. That is, until, she had come running in and told Simon that it was all true, exactly as Joshua had said while he was still with them, how they would kill him but that wouldn't be the end of it.

“That will never happen” Simon protested to Joshua at one point, desiring to protect his best friend and mentor. But, Joshua had rebuked Simon sharply for this statement, confusing Simon, who was just trying to help his friend.

Ever since Joshua had come to town the Priests had plotted against him, "THE PRIESTS", can you imagine it? The ones that taught our children and told us how to live. They were continually plotting and scheming how they could “be rid” of Joshua because he dared question their methods and motives. Joshua repeatedly questioned their self-centeredness and hypocrisy as they “preached” to the people, saying one thing, but really believing another. The real problem for them was that Joshua being so good and right, they could not find a way to get him to shut up and go away.

Simon ran out the door as fast as his sandaled feet would carry him, and, as he ran down the graveled dusty road his thoughts began to spin. He remembered with grief how that when Joshua needed his friend Simon most, Simon had ran like he’s running now, running for his life.

 “Well,” he told himself,” I wasn’t the only one that ran.” No matter, he remembered his words to his friend Joshua “I’ll never leave you! even if they kill me.” This had tortured his mind ever since they arrested Joshua, and now he was dead.

As he reached a crossroad, he spotted his friend John running up ahead. “What’s he doing there?” Simon thought aloud. “I can’t let him out run me, he’s the only one that didn’t desert Joshua. ’If only I can get there first and see if what Mary said was true,’ then they will all see that I really loved Joshua.”

Catching up to John, Simon nodded to him, and through his labored breathing said “What are you doing John? ‘Where are you headed?’ ”Mary came and told me “It’s all true! Everything that Joshua said is true! So, I’m going to see for myself.”

“Man,” Simon thought to himself, “I can’t let this happen, I’m going to get there first if it kills me.”

“ If it kills me, ‘at least then I’ll be wherever Joshua is.’”

He pulled up ahead of John his calves and thighs starting to scream. He wasn’t used to running this far, but he pushed himself harder than ever, his breathing was getting labored and the sweat poured down his body, soaking his clothes through and through.

John began to pull up close to Simon even pulling ahead of him a bit as Simon tired and slipped back, but Simon wasn’t going to quit this time. He ran until he thought the muscles in his legs would come apart. Up ahead he could see the rich man’s garden. “That’s where it is, that’s where Mary said she saw him.” John rounded the corner through the garden gate, spewing gravel in Simon’s sweating face.

They were in the garden now.

“NO!!” Simon explained as John reached the opening to the tomb first. John stood next to the opening and peered around the corner into the tomb, and stood there frozen. “Here’s my chance!” Simon thought, so he kept running right into the garden tomb and came to a dead stop, right at the spot where Joshua’s body should have been. He stood there with his mouth wide open in utter amazement, the linen that they had wrapped his body in was neatly folded on a stone bench in front of him.

Simon now knew that he really was Peter the rock as Jesus had said. He made it, he had finished strong.

All the memories of what Jesus had said came flooding back to him.

"Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and to the scribes; and they will condemn Him to death, and deliver Him to the Gentiles to mock and to scourge and to crucify. And the third day He will rise again." Matthew 20:18 

And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.  And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. Matthew 16:17 

"Could it possibly be true?"

God Hides

God You hide inside my poem,

Lurking there, weave in and out,

Thinks me, I have created this,

But not! You are here and find me out.

Where could I go where you are not?

You seek me early, are my soul's blood.

Chase away I so oft desire,

But in my life, is Your life hid.

You weaved my life, before the earth,

Weaving through till I was born.

Ever present and yearn to help, my

burgeoning life and my side's thorn.

So weave at will inside my poem,

Fight to death, my battling will.

Till I'm created in your image.

Until life rings and rhymes so well.

The Pulse of God

Dawning brilliance,

Pulse of God.

Words called beauty,

are weak indeed.

For colored dawn, is God’s huge yawn,

and bluest is the blacking night,

bringing out the stars so bright.

In the beauty of starry night,

soul’s sweet rest, is pulsed by God.

Begetting in this brilliant dawn,

wordless silence, shimmer drawn.

Silent colors, noiseless seem,

red is fading, orange to pink.

All is quiet until the dawn,

when all goes blue the stars go home,

and world awakens with a yawn.

Alarm bells ring,

without a say,

fire trucks sing,

the roar of day.

The perpetual pulse of God,

beats one!

Stars go out, sunrise fade.

Man arises like the sun,

bringing out what he has made,

builds today, his kingdom come.

Brilliant blue, the day’s hue,

setting into reddish blue.

Spread across horizons lost,

stars go out, His rest not sought.

Ever on, an endless eon,

thought does come between His pulse…

From sunrise, and till sunset,

in the midst of peace and wars,

victory, heartbreaks so many more.

One raise hope in victory dance,

another lies defeating chance.

Some can’t see, as victory flees,

ever amid the ruin and war,

His pulse be heard upon weak knees.

Perhaps one beat, begins the day,

answered by the shouting dawn.

The clang rings out, on heaven’s gong.

Ablazing pulse to God’s new day.

It’s always darkest before the dawn.

A baby cries, beginning life,

graying man, his last sigh.

Clasping onto life with fright,

his days move on and into night.

When at the end, the sands run down,

and beauty sun or dark is drawn.

Awake we may to heavens DAY,

only God, has last say.

Searching for.....

Who is this High and Lofty One,

Whose warm, cold beauty speaks, from

lofty peak and setting sun?

Creation draws me from my slum.

Ever out of my own knowing,

Yet, still pursuing to be known;

Great Almighty Holy King,

Upon His head the highest crown.

Look I upon  Majestic art,

Walk the fiery stones with Him.

Reveal to me Your blazing heart,

And reach my life that’s yet so grim.

Looking to His Mountain,

Looking on His Sea,

Knowing never certain,

Yet, never ceasing Be.

Alas, I’m standing in this place,

Having seen His awful Gaze.

My heart does flood, full of Your Grace;

All God’s  love removes the haze.

Along this lonely road I go,

Ever upward trudging on.

Through this odd and warming snow,

Looking back at battles won.

Oh, so oft I failed and left,

Turned around and got it right,

But, ever always in His cleft,

Guarding me with His pure Light.

Searching for this Holy One,

Longing for one precious glance,

One mere hint of Blazing SON.

Perhaps, my soul stands half a chance.

Just a drop of His fresh rain,

From His ever seeing Eye,

Quick relieves my empty pain,

With,

Softest Flakes of His warm snow.

The Good King

Just ONE good King,
is all we ask.

To rule o’er us,
carry the banner,
and take the heat.
Protect us in trial,
not knowing defeat.
Give us today our daily bread.

But,
look now alas,
WE have us OUR king,
Look in the mirror,
beholding your king!
Who does not serve,
and of trifling power.
Injustice and weakness,
How quickly his feet,
run to do evil.

Crack the mirror!
Break the glass!
Kill the king!
Seek His justice!
Cry for mercy!

Is Christ now your KING?

Sickening

I realized recently that I can be very motivated by pain, but absent the pain, my discipline can often go by the wayside.

Recently I suffered through a head and chest cold, not as severe as some people I know were going through, but sick nonetheless. The day my symptoms started I was driving back from a glorious visit to the promised land of Sherman Oaks and Orange County. In Sherman Oaks live my wife's son and his beautiful two-year-old daughter "Faith" who we stayed with while we were there, and in "The OC" another daughter and the church we were from before we came to Sacramento.

Cute little Faith was recovering from a cold, but apparently not recovered enough not to pass it on to me. Germs are funny creatures silently working at our wellbeing, and stealthily entering in to invade our peace, comfort and safety. As I was driving back to Sacramento from a beautiful trip, the symptoms began to manifest. You know the feeling, the little scratch in the back of your throat and that tightening feeling behind your eyes, and perhaps just a little irritability. Well, being the wimp that I am for colds, I made a stop at Rite-Aid for the Zicam, a supposed cold preventer. It's amazing what we will pay for a chance to be rid of discomfort.

I bought the generic Zicam and some herbal throat drops, not worrying about spraying some chemical all over the inside of my mouth if it will keep the cold and flu wolf at bay. But, I better get the all-natural throat drops lest I suck on some kind of chemical and grow a green horn out the top of my head when I'm 60. Funny and even sicker is the inconvenience we will go through so we can feel better. We will often compromise our principles and give away the farm if we would just feel better. This same thinking is what keeps drug addicts addicted and alcoholics drinking, I know, I was both.

After a few days of "religiously" applying the Zicam to the insides of my mouth every four hours, and sucking down a bag of "herbal" throat drops, and again, religiously taking my Mucinex every four hours, I began to get better. Amazingly, as I was getting better, my "religious" Zicaming, throat dropping and Mucinex taking severely dropped off. The thought came to me when I realized this morning that I had not dosed myself in at least the last 18 hours. Who needs medicine when you're getting well?

You are either laughing at me, and or questioning my severe lack of character and intestinal fortitude at this point, or you are nodding your head in agreement. It wouldn't be so funny if it wasn't so true. It goes way past colds, flus and broken legs. It goes also for problems on our jobs, in our marriages and with our finances, proving the truth that we are broken people inside, sinful and depraved, beyond helping ourselves out of the mess we are in.

If we have trouble on our job, get written up say, we straighten up, hurry up or whatever else was the right thing to do in the first place. If we have trouble with our marriage and our wife is becoming increasingly hostile, we start bringing flowers, asking her to dinner and shaving more often. If we suddenly realize we are in a mountain of debt with no way out, we start cutting up credit cards and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and beans. And the minute the boss tells us what a good job we are doing, the wife starts loving us again and we start climbing out of debt, "you know what" happens.

Same is true for spiritual things, and if we think about it, are not all things spiritual, including jobs, marriages and finances? We get in trouble whether internal or external and back to church we go, into our bibles we start looking and our prayer lives get a big shot in the arm.

Perhaps this is exactly why the God who loves us more than we can imagine, more than even life and comfort itself, allows these things to plague our life.

Keep Jesus close through worship, prayer and study of the word, and stay in touch with your friends in the Lord that can help hold you up. If we let these things down we are sure to get a "cold or flu" that will drive us to the medicine.