Learning to Love God



Intro:  When I started this essay I titled it “Why I Chose to Love God.”  I soon realized that the word “Chose” put the decision to love God in the past tense.  His love for us is without beginning or end.  Our love for Him should be ongoing as well.   Then I changed the name to “Why I Choose to Love God.”  Again, something didn’t sound quite right.  I do choose to love God but there are certain aspects of my life that show I do not yet totally love God.  I still want to be the little “g,” that is the little god of some areas of my life.  These are the areas I have yet to surrender to the love and care of a sovereign God.  So now the title is “Learning to Love God,” for that is what I am doing.  Every day I am mindful of this, I am learning to love God.



It seems it should be easy to love the One who has such wonderful love for us and has done so much for us along with His unbounded mercy and grace.  Consider His plan to crucify His own Son for our redemption.  Consider His daily care through the Holy Spirit.  Consider His boundless river of blessings He brings into our lives. 



It’s been a long journey learning to love God.  I’ve been a believer most of my 72 years but much to my regret I am a sinner not always doing what is best for those around me or for myself.  As much as I loved my parents I didn’t always obey them.  Sometimes I did what I wanted, not what would have been best for me.  But they loved me still. 



Being a sinner, my relationship with God is marked with the same misbehavior/rebellion as it was with my parents.  I have my selfish desires, my wants, and my ego-centric wishes that are not a part of God’s plan for my life.  But God loves me still.



I’ve heard it said that each day we make a decision to love our spouse.  That makes sense.  It also makes sense that each day we make a decision to love God.



I admit that I am a sinner because even though I want to follow his commands I don’t always.  Sometimes I fall short and sin.  Without lying, I can say that I am trying to get to know him and learning to love him.



Matt. 22:37-39 And He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  



I do love God but….



I recently heard it asked, “How does an imperfect human love a perfect God?”



We just do.

My Watch

I have a watch, a pocket watch, which Mary gave me quite a few years ago.  It has a cover that is opened with a push of a button and inside the cover is a picture of Mary we made back in 1971 in a cotton field in Spain. 



I carried the watch for a number of years then I quit because the chain had come loose and could not be re-attached.   I took it to a jeweler once but he had no way to re-attach the chain so I quit carrying the watch and put it in a drawer.  Eventually the battery died.



Three years ago we moved to North Carolina and recently I took my watch to another jeweler hoping they could get it running again and attach the chain.   They had to send it out, which did not surprise me. About three weeks later the watch came back running and with the chain attached. It is again in my pocket where it belongs.



I put it to my ear and listen for the familiar tick-tick of a watch but it’s not there.  Instead I hear a sound that is unfamiliar but is recurring every few seconds, something like someone shuffling along in slippers. 



It’s more accurate than the wind-up type of pocket watch I use to carry.  When I was working in the fields of area farmers back in my junior high and high school days I would wind and set my watch each morning before leaving the house.  With this one I set it once and then look at it several times daily and it continues to keep correct time.



I sometimes put it on my desk in front of me.  I watch as it ticks off each second then pauses before moving on to the next second.   And I wonder what did I accomplish in that second?  Did I waste it?  Did I contribute to the well-being of anyone with it?  Or did I allow it to be relegated to the past unused, unaccomplished?  A terrible waste.



The same goes for unused, uninvested minutes and days and weeks and years.  Can I say that I accomplished anything yesterday or the day before?  How about last year, did I use it wisely to the glory of God?  For what other reason is there for life?  We were created to glorify Him.  Was He glorified in that last second, minute, day or year?  Or lifetime?



I hope so. 

JACOBY

            There once was a potter named Jacoby.  Jacoby had been a potter most of his life having followed in his father’s footsteps.  His hands were worn and knarled from kneading and shaping his clay day in and day out for decades.  His back was stooped from bending over the wheel for hours at a time. Jacoby was up in years having passed his 60^th birthday and counting and his hair was as white as the snow atop of Mount Hermon. 

            He lived above his small shop with Sarah his wife of many years.  She was a seamstress by trade who also loved to cook.  Sarah was a short squat little lady.  She had a wonderful smile and a memorable laugh which could be heard in the street below their open living room window.  When Jacoby arose for the day she had an egg omelet waiting for him.  As soon as he was out the door Sarah was making the bed and cleaning house.  About mid-morning she could be found near her sewing supplies in the living area making clothes for sale at the local market.  In the late afternoon Sarah went to the market to drop off the clothing she had finished making and to shop for fresh vegetables and meat for supper.  She would walk between the booths looking and touching and smelling.  The aroma of fresh-baked bred and rolls was always prevalent.   

            Their house was the same size as the shop below but had the added space of the roof above for evening conversation and relaxation.  There were two rooms, the kitchen-dining area and the living-bed area. 

After breakfast each morning Jacoby would descend the steps to his shop, open the door to the fresh air and go to work preparing the clay for the day’s creations.   The shop room was somewhat smallish, about the size of a stable with a couple of stalls.  Often a friend would step in but Jacoby would continue working through the visit.  If he and Sarah wanted to eat he had to create items for sale. 

Jacoby had created many wonderful articles in his life as a potter.  He had made bowls that the women of the village used to prepare their meals.  He had made pitchers from which to pour the wines that accompanied the meals.

Perhaps he formed the chalice that Jesus passed to his disciples at the first communion.

Perhaps Jacoby made the jug that the woman brought to the well for water.

Perhaps he created the stone water jars used in the wedding feast at Cana.

            Jacoby was not a rich man in terms of worldly possessions but he was a man at great peace having discovered early in life what God had called him to do.  Jacoby could have made decorative devices to sit on the shelf or hang on the wall but he was much more practical; he made utensils to be used, tools to help his fellow man. 

He was used to working alone and he would work for hours at a time creating his wares.   Jacoby would take a pound of clay and put it on his work table.  He sprinkled on water and kneaded the clay to an even consistency.  From the work table the clay went to the wheel to be turned into an article of art.   Turning the table using a foot pedal, Jacoby would patiently form the raw clay into his objects. He rounded and shaped it with his hands.  Using his fingers on the inside and a hand on the outside Jacoby would grow the creation to the desired height.  From a second piece of clay he formed the handle and pressed it to the side of the cup or pitcher. 

Jacoby adhered to Jeremiah 18:4  “But the vessel he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another vessel, shaping it as seemed best to him.” 

Jacoby then fired the green clay pieces in the kiln adding wood every few hours to maintain the hot temperature.  He then gently removed his vessels from the kiln to allow them to cool.  With a fine eye he inspected each piece as it came from the kiln.  He took pride in the final product. 

God too shapes the clay of his handiwork.  In the womb He forms us into the vessels He would have us be.  Through our life experiences we are baked in the kiln of life and through these events God accomplishes His work here on earth.    None of us are perfect but by His grace we are forgiven and saved.  We all meet God’s perfect standards to be used for His purposes.  It is not for us to ask why or how, He will provide the means through which we are to serve.

A moment in time



I had a conversation recently with a very good friend regarding life and our time that God has given us to live here.  He sparked an idea I had been carrying for some time about the time we will spend in Heaven after this life.  When I think of it I am reminded of the song “Bless The Lord” where we sing:



And on that day
When my strength is failing
The end draws near
And my time has come
Still my soul will
Sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years
And then forevermore
Forevermore



Again, in Amazing Grace we sing:



When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun.





I find it hard to grasp but I expect that one day I will have been in heaven 10,000 years.  Wow, isn’t that amazing.  That sounds like such a long time but to God it is just a flicker in time.  My point is that we are here on earth a few decades, maybe 70 or 80 or even maybe 90 years which to us with our perspective is a long time.  But when this life is compared to 10,000 years in heaven this time is such a short existence.   I would guess that after 10,000 years we will remember hardly anything of this life.  It will be just a very distant memory.



For whatever reason God has chosen to put us here, in this place in this time.  He has also given us the gift of people who can help us through this life and also the gift of people who need our help in getting through life.



Eternity has started for all of us. One of these days God is going to call us home.  When that happens I expect our spirits will soar.  Jesus said he will wipe away our tears; there will be no sadness or anxiety, only love and joy.

VOID

Nothing

Nil

Zip

Nada

No sound, All is as silent as the ocean floor

No aroma, not even the scent of a single rose.

No up or down.

No people, as vacant as a small town main street at 3am.

No wind, as calm as the midnight darkness

No heat.  It is so cold, as cold as the ice buried deep in the South Pole.

No love nor hate, nor fear nor courage

No hope or expectations.

Nothing to touch, no liquid or solid.

Nothing to see and no light to see it by.  All is as dark as the blackest of India inks.

           

A huge, overwhelming void of nothingness with only a memory of what once was:

The laughter of a child. 

The aroma of freshly baked bread.

The sound of the wind in the leaves. 

The love of a woman.

            Rain drops on the face.

It scares me that I am capable of such thinking.

THE FINISH LINE

Have you ever had a goal that was so very important to you and you almost achieved it but at the last moment it slipped from your grasp?  Have you ever wanted something so badly that you were willing to work and work to bring it about but somehow it escaped you?

My story begins a good number of years ago in my junior year in high school.  I had just completed a somewhat successful season in track as an 880 yard runner. This was before the distances were converted to metric and it became the 800 meter run. I had worked hard all season at the after school practice sessions and I had gotten up many mornings to run a couple of miles before school.   I won some of the meets and set a school record in my favorite event.  Having come in second in the SEK regional meet I qualified for the Kansas state meet in Wichita.  At the state meet I was somewhat pleased with my performance in the half mile having placed 4^th, just out of the medals which were awarded for the first 3 places.  I really wanted to take a medal home but I still had my senior year to compete.

I have to admit that I was somewhat cocky going into the track season in my senior year.    I won most of the meets including the regional meet which qualified me for the state meet for the second time.  One day, one of my teachers asked how I anticipated I would place in the state meet.  As I said, I was somewhat cocky and replied that I should be able to do better than 4^th place allowing me to bring home a medal. 

The day of the meet in Wichita, the day of my final race of my high school career, was bright and sunny, very pleasant.  I was on the field in my sweats preparing to get warmed up when I heard the call over the PA system for the half mile.  What?  How can that be?  Is it really time already?  I haven’t even begun to warm up yet!  How can it be time for the race already?  I quickly made my way to the starting area; all the other participants were ready.  I was not.  I took off my sweats and got into position on the track, did a few quick jumping jacks trying to loosen up and get warmed up.  It wasn’t enough but it was all the time I had.

The starter fired his gun and I ran with the leaders around the first curve.  I was still running with the leaders as we made our way down the back stretch.  As we approached the second curve I ceased up, my legs cramped.  I moved to the left of the track and onto the grass.  My running career was over in an inglorious tumble on the infield.  I would never see that final finish line.  I had been cocky, proud, and boastful, and God had humbled me.

Now, in my eighth decade of life, I approach life’s finish line.  This time I will not falter.  I am prepared.  Through many other people and many events God has primed me for this race.  I am far past the starting line.  I don’t know when the finish line will cross my path; I only know that it will.

Paul wrote in Hebrews 12:1  “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

When I read that passage I am grateful for the church family that not only exhibits the Godly life but encourages me to do so as well.  They are an amazing group of believers who have given their lives over to God and truly exhibit the love and compassion of our Savior. 

It is time to rid myself of all the baggage of life that holds me back on my spiritual journey to the final prize.  It is time for perseverance to take hold and endure. 

Again, Paul wrote in Philippians 3:14  “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”  The time for preparation is here.  Our race to the finish line of life has begun.  It is in front of us, we know not where, only that it is there.  One day we will cross that finish line and I perceive that the finish line to life will be supernaturally transformed into a new starting line.  It will be the beginning of a new life in and with Jesus.  He is waiting for each of us there on the other side of this life.  What a wonderful experience it will be to look into his eyes, to touch his garment and hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

TREES AND POLITICS



I’m a little slow.  Its taken me a while to come up with a theory that explains what is currently wrong and contentious in our society.  We all know that we are divided politically and socially on many issues.  At any time anyone may be offended by anything.  We seem angry.  We simply don’t like people who disagree with us and we don’t necessarily like those who agree with us.



We seem to be having some sort of nationwide corporate melt-down that no one has yet to put a label on.  We willingly verbally abuse and in extreme cases physically batter others for seemingly trivial issues.  Some of these issues are not so trivial but we are willing to abuse others none the less.  If some of the statements put out by our politicians were made between spouses the person would be arrested for spousal mental abuse. 



I theorize that many of the above ills are because our brains are suffering from a lack of oxygen and an over abundance of carbon dioxide.  How is this possible, how do we possibly have an oxygen dearth? 



For years we have been removing large swaths of trees to make room for commercial and residential development.  Almost every day we see large areas of old forest being removed by the big machines like a piranha in a gold fish bowl.    The forests are replaced by stores, condos, houses, lawns, concrete and asphalt.  Hundreds of trees are eliminated for every acre of land cleared thus the very items that God created to rid our environment of carbon dioxide and replenish our air with oxygen are being removed every day. 



This travesty has been going on for years, ever since Christopher Columbus set foot on our shores.  Slowly as our population has grown the pace of destruction has increased.  We are now deforesting our land at a break-neck speed and I theorize that we have reached critical mass, we are now consuming more oxygen than the remaining trees can produce and we are spewing more carbon dioxide into our air than these same trees can remove.  Hence we are running an oxygen deficit which is causing our brains to function at less than optimum performance.  In other words we are all running on empty air.



A prime example of my theory is this, there are approximately 3750 cherry trees around the tidal basin of our nations capitol in Washington DC, most are Yoshino trees.  These trees, a gift from Japan, are so small they produce little oxygen.  Could that explain the mental deficiency in our government on both sides of the aisle?  



George Washington had it right when he cut down a cherry tree to make room for a much more efficient oak or maple tree.  



The mass media are no better.  They work out of high rise office buildings which are already in oxygen deficient areas due to their altitude.  Their oxygen-deficient brains spew out erroneous data and opinions thinly disguised as news expecting an unsuspecting, oxygen deficient, readership to accept their printed material at face value. 



We of the general populace are no better off, we too are oxygen deficient and our brains are operating at less than optimum efficiency. We look at a newspaper and think, “Well, this is in print, it must be true.”  We see talking heads on TV spewing opinions and think, “Well, it was on the tube, it must be accurate.”  Worse yet, we see something on the Internet repeated like fleas on Bubbas hound dogs back and we think, “Well, it was on the Internet it must be true.”



So, what is the solution?  How do we replenish the oxygen in our atmosphere?  How do we get our nations leaders and the media to start using their brains properly? 



Simple, quit cutting trees and stripping our world of the oxygen producers.  If a tree must be removed, let’s require the contractor, builder, individual who is removing the tree to plant two replacement trees.  If the trees cannot be planted near the construction site they should be planted in a federally provided nature preserve.  These preserves, these plots of land, can be anywhere from a few acres to a few square miles in size designated specifically for the restoration of our oxygen rich environment. By planting two replacement trees for each one that is cut we will not only discourage the cutting of trees but also over a period of years we will regain the oxygen that God intended us to breathe and maybe our thought process will get back to where God intended it to be. 



Keep in mind that all the above is theory, I could be mistaken.  Keep in mind also that I too am using an oxygen-deficient brain.  But how else can we explain the current state of our American society? 

In God We Trust

We are all familiar with the logo on our United States currency “In God We Trust.”  Do we believe it?  Do we really trust in God?  The real question is, do we trust in God in our personal lives?

In Exodus 24:3 when Moses told the people all the Lord’s words and laws, they responded with one voice, “Everything the Lord has said we will do.”

Again in verse 7 Moses wrote, “Then he took the Book of the covenant and read it to the people.  They responded, ‘We will do everything the Lord has said; we will obey.’”

So many times the Israelis committed themselves to obey God then turned away from Him.  Then when life fell short of their expectations they came complaining to Moses and Aaron.  They griped about no water and no food.  They accused Moses of leading them out to the desert to die, they wanted to go back into bondage in Egypt rather than obey the Lord.

We are so like the Israelis, we hear encouraging words, we hear the promises of God and we want to be loyal followers.  We profess that God is our creator, our provider, and our savior.  We confess that we too will listen and obey the words of God.  Yet when life isn’t going exactly as we think it should we don’t always have the courage to trust God.  We turn away to go our separate ways.  Then when we get into trouble, when sin overtakes us, we gripe and complain about the circumstances in our lives that fail to meet our desires.  

I’m old enough to know that there are many times, many occasions, many circumstances in life that God will allow us to believe we can live independently of Him.  He allows us to go our own ways to do as we please.  Sometimes it works out, often it does not. 

The ideal situation would be to have the courage to adopt into our lives a true and lasting dependence on God as David had. David wrote in Psalm 91, verse 2  “I will say of the Lord, he is my rock and my fortress; my God; in Him will I trust.

David enjoyed a unique and special relationship with God.  God loved David and called him to lead His nation of Israel.  We too can enjoy a unique and special relationship with God, one built on trust and understanding.  God loves us and each of us has been called by God to accomplish God’s will in our lives.  He has equipped each of us for a unique position in His creation.  Like His provision for the nation of Israel we can trust that God will provide for our needs in order to accomplish His will for our good and His glory.

In his wisdom, King Solomon wrote in Proverbs 3:5, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”  C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “To take up a general truth and make it our own by personal faith is the highest wisdom. Where there is every reason and warrant for faith, we ought to place our confidence without hesitancy or wavering.  Dear reader, pray for grace to say, ‘In Him will I trust.’”   (The Treasury of David,  Vol. 2   Page 89.)

It is possible for us to enjoy a close, trusting, constant relationship with God.  Through prayer, Bible reading and through listening for the words of the Holy Spirit during meditation we can develop an awareness of God in our lives and a dependence on Him to lead us through this life according to His will.  He is always there through His Spirit and with courage on our part we can develop the awareness of His presence. 

Ps 131: verse 2,  David said, “ But I have calmed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child is my soul within me.  O Israel put your hope in the lord both now and forevermore.

C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “See how lovingly a man who is weaned from self thinks of others!  David thinks of his people, and loses himself in his care for Israel.  How he prizes the grace of hope!  He has given up the things which are seen, and therefore he values the treasures which are not seen except by the eyes of hope.”   (The Treasury of David, Vol. 2, page 138)

We must cast off the lines that anchor us to the world and take up the assurances, the promises of God for our security.  There are times in our lives that we are experiencing trials and we pray to God for deliverance.  It is often through hind sight that we see that God has been involved and has resolved the situation.  It is then that we should pause to give Him thanks and praise.  Understand this, God will care for us, look out for us, and provide for us all to our benefit AND to His glory.  So many of His actions are to our benefit and always to His glory.  He is an amazing God that we serve.

When you consider just a few of the things that God has accomplished beginning with the creation, He not only spoke the earth into existence but the entire universe as well.  Consider how many planets, how many stars God has created.  God divided the sea.  He turned water into wine.  He raised the dead and healed the sick, the blind and the lame.  He loved us enough to send his son to be crucified on the cross for our redemption 

Psalm 62: 2  He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

Matthew Henry wrote, “There are a good number of references of God as our rock, our fortress, our protector.  All of these are reassuring to the believer.  But, we must keep in mind that God is our rock, our protector, our redeemer not necessarily for our good but for His glory.  In all things God will be glorified.  If he is our redeemer, and he is, he is glorified.  If he is our rock, and he is, he is glorified.”  (The NIV Matthew Henry Commentary, Page 746)

Ps 27: 14  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

Be patient.  It is amazing when we look back to see how God has worked His will in our lives when we turn lives over to Him.

In God we trust.  Sounds simple enough.  But is it?   To trust in God is to put all we are, all we have into his hands of God for safekeeping.  As it is written in Proverbs 3:5  Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

Amen.

I first met Vera in Kankakee, IL. It was in 1968.  Vera and my bride to be, Mary, met me at the railroad station meeting my train from Chicago.  This was my first trip to Danforth and the Lubben farm.  I had caught a train in North Chicago which is just outside the Great Lakes Navel Training Center.  This commuter train deposited me in the main terminal in downtown Chicago where I caught the Illinois Central train to Kankakee.

Vera met me with a smile and friendly hello.  She always had a smile and friendly hello for me.  She was just that kind of person.

She had a wonderful laugh, very distinctive.  I loved to hear Vera laugh.  And what a wonderful smile.

Vera was always busy.  She raised a family of three kids on the farm so she always had something to do.   Whenever I visited the farm she was always busy gathering eggs, fixing meals or something to help out.  I guess that is where Mary got her energy. 

If anyone ever walked with the Holy Spirit, Vera did.  She had a genuine love for all people.  Very forgiving, always concerned about others.  She was the kind of person  we all should be.

I used to have a black suit.  I say used to have.  I left the suit at the Lubben house when I went to Guam in 1969.   When I came home I looked for the suit but it was gone. When I asked about the whereabouts of the suit Vera confessed she had given it away.  Thinking it belonged to their son, John, she knew he would never wear it again so she gave it to one of the organizations that would provide for the needy.  I never would have worn it either, it was out of style by this time.  It became quit a joke as every time I saw her from then on I always made it a point to ask her about that suit.  Once in a while she would beat me to mentioning it.  It became quite a game between the two of us.

Grandpa Lubben, Vera’s father-in-law was living in Danforth at the time.  He was frequently at the house when I visited.  He was quite aged then and Vera had the responsibility of looking out for him.  She was patient. 

She loved children, teaching and reading to them.  She would always take time for our children.  She would let them help gather eggs all the while carrying on a lively conversation.  Frequently she would come out with that wonderful laugh. 

The last time I ever saw Vera cancer had taken it’s toll,  she was bent over in a wheel chair.  She was still very much aware, but just a shell of the woman we all loved.  We miss her still.

FROM BIRTH    For His glory.

In my old age I am learning what influence God has had in my life.  When I think back to the people and events that God has put in my life-path over my 70 years I am humbled and amazed at what He has done for me.

From the time of the miracle of my birth God was there.  From the beginning of my life God put people in my life-path; people who would nourish me, take care of me and help me make it in this thing called life.  I had parents, a wonderful wife and children, siblings, teachers, fellow students, people I worked with, worship with, and socialize with. By the same token, I hope that God has used me to feed and take care of others.  I am certain that some of the people that God has put in my life-path needed help.  I hope I was able to provide a little for them. 

All through school I knew God was with me.  There were a lot of times I didn’t act like it but I knew He was there looking out for me.  Apparently someone saw that I had a relationship with God as I was privileged to be invited to be a charter member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes chapter in my high school.  I was asked to say a prayer before each of our varsity basketball games, a practice which would be banned today I suppose.  Maybe it was because I was a second string bench warmer and the coach wanted to give me something to do.

In December of 1967 God had me go from my home of Chanute, KS to the Naval Training Center in Great Lakes, IL for boot camp followed by almost a year of electronics training.  You may recall that in 1967 the war in Viet Nam was going strongly and anyone not in school was receiving draft notices.  I had such a letter from Uncle Sam.   Since I would be going into the military I decided I was going to get something out of it.  I could go for a two years active, 4 years reserve enlistment and get nothing out of it with the exception of a year in Nam or I could go for six years active and get an education that would last me the rest or my life.  I had a strong interest in electronics from my youth since a friend was into electronics.  It just looked like fun.  I chose the education and never looked back.

God had his hand on us.  On May 3, 1968 I met my bride-to-be at a dance at a nursing school in Park Ridge, IL, a northern suburb of Chicago.  At the dance we sailor students were standing along one wall, the nursing students along another wall.  I looked across the floor and saw one young lady I found to be particularly attractive.  I asked her to dance.  We danced the rest of the evening. Mary and I dated whenever I could borrow a car or fix one of my classmates up with one of Mary’s classmates.  Those two classmates later were married and still are to this day 48 years later.

After almost a year of schooling in Great Lakes, God took me to Pensacola, FL for an additional six months of school with the Navy. 

My first duty station after school was on the Pacific island of Guam for a year and a half.  It may seem odd that being in the Navy I was not assigned to a ship.  The only reason was that the antenna system associated with the equipment I worked with was too large to fit on any ship. 

While on the island several friends and I made a trek into the boonies to a place called Talofofo Falls.  Again, God had his hand on me.  We didn’t have many waterfalls in Kansas.  None that I know of.   When we got to the falls I saw that it fell onto a ledge of rock then flowed into a large pool.  Not being familiar with waterfalls I decided to walk under the falls.  Not thinking that the water had been falling on the rock for thousands of years and not realizing the water had eroded the rock away I stepped into the falls and immediately fell into a pool of water that had no bottom.  At least I didn’t find the bottom.  I went down a ways then started scratching the walls with all the fingernail I could muster.  I would bet my fingernail marks are still visible on the walls.  I climbed out and went to relax with my friends.  A short time later I observed some children having a great time playing in the same hole I had been in a few minutes earlier.  They knew it was there.  God got me out for some reason.

After 18 months on Guam I returned to the States for a month of leave.  Mary and I were married on December 5, 1970.  After our honeymoon and a trip to Kansas to see my parents we drove to Bayonne, New Jersey to leave the car to have it shipped to my next duty station that God was sending us to in Rota, Spain. 

I went ahead to Rota leaving Mary in the States until I could establish a home for us.  It took me almost a month but I found and furnished an older 3 bedroom ground floor apartment.   Finally, my bride joined me in our new home. 

In Rota we knew no one.  We knew each other and that was it.  There was no convenient means to communicate with our families in the States except through the mail and a prearranged phone call.  We didn’t have cell phones then, no Facebook or Facetime. No Internet.  It was a great time to really get to know one another in a marriage that was just beginning. We had to rely on each other.  We had no radio, no television.  We talked.

We were soon blessed with new friends in the old world.  God permitted us to travel the southern part of Spain and see places we would never have seen without His putting us there to enjoy this part of his creation. We visited Cadiz, and Tirifa and a dozen other small cities.  We saw the Alhambra in Grenada, and the Alcazar in Seville. We enjoyed the Spanish people immensely.  What a wonderful place it is. 

After almost a year in Rota the Navy came looking for volunteers to work with a new program just being formed in Jacksonville, FL.  It was a program working with drug users at a newly formed drug rehab center. I wanted to be a part of that program so I volunteered to be one of the counselors.  Within about two weeks we were on a flight to Jacksonville where we would conclude my Navy career in about two years.

Again, God had his hand on us.  We were in Jacksonville only briefly when we learned that Mary was pregnant with our first-born.  Little Ron was to be born in August 1972.  In June of that year Mary’s brother John was getting married in Illinois. Since it had been a year and a half since we had see our families I went against medical advice and we made a trip to Kansas stopping to camp in Meridian, MS the first night.  We then drove on to Kansas.  We stayed with my parents a few days then headed to Illinois for the wedding.  We were at the family farm a few days when we made a trip to Chicago to enjoy the Brookfield Zoo with Mary’s nursing school roommate, Pauline.

Upon returning to the farm at the end of the day we retired to bed. The next morning Mary awoke with a start saying her water had broken.  I got her to the hospital in Watseka. Mary was visibly upset, I was too ignorant to understand the danger I had put our son in.  Little Ron was born about midnight the morning of June 23, 1972.  I still had no idea of the peril he was in.  I went to the nursery window often to look in on him; they had him in an incubator with oxygen fed to him.  His little chest was heaving in and out as he gasped for breath.  I was in an elevator going down for something to eat when one of his nurses joined me.  I asked with pride in my voice how my little son was doing.  She responded, “I don’t think he is going to make it.”  I nearly collapsed there on the floor of the elevator.  Only then did I realize the danger he was in. 

I kept checking on Little Ron through the morning.  As we approached noon I went to look on him and the nurse was just the rolling his little body away.  I quickly turned away from the window and went back to the fathers lounge.  Soon, one of the nurses came in to tell me the news and asked if I wanted to tell Mary or have her do it.  I said I would.  I walked into Mary’s room and bent over her and said, “It’s over.”  We cried.

A couple of days later we walked out of the hospital with empty arms and empty and aching souls.   Thank God for Mary’s parents, Roy and Vera, they made all the funeral arrangements, got Little Ron a plot in the cemetery, a casket and all.  Mary and I were in no condition to do any of the details required.  We obviously missed brother John’s wedding. 

It was a very long, very quiet two day drive back to our home in Jacksonville.  We cried.  We were overwhelmed with our thoughts and sorrows.  Little Ron had died and there was no getting him back, no turning the clock back to undo the mistake I had made. 

Over time, with the hand of God on us, we have healed.  The anger is gone, the guilt has abated.  The regret is still there and always will be.  My mistake falls under the list of items that I hope God will allow me to totally forget when I am with Him in heaven. 

On December 10, 1973 I received my discharge after six years in the Navy.  We loaded up the car and headed to Kansas not knowing what God had in store for us.  I soon landed a job with the local radio station selling advertising.  God didn’t want me there as I soon proved I would starve to death in sales.  I opened a TV repair shop and soon learned that was not what God wanted me to do as it had very little income.

At our church in Kansas I was asked to help serve communion, very serious rite.  It was a privilege I didn’t take lightly. 

It was about this time in December of 1976 our son Ryan was born.  That day was one of the most joyous of my life.  We had waited four years between the birth/death of Little Ron and the birth of Ryan.  It was a very difficult time with two miscarriages in the middle.

God provided a job at the local cement plant which had a position for an electronics technician.  The problem was I would have to be patient as the position would not open for a few years.  When it did open I bid on it and was the only candidate qualified for the position so I got it even over several others who had more seniority than I.  I stayed with the technician position only briefly; I’ll not go into detail other than to say there were serious personality conflicts.  Eventually, due to retirement, the plant carpenters position opened.  I bid on it and got that position.  It was the best place for me in that plant as I could work alone, at my own pace and frequently assigned my own tasks.

On February 20, 1981we were blessed with a little girl, Jill our wonderful daughter joined our family.

I decided I wanted to do something different professionally.  One day while I was walking the streets of Chanute looking for employment I passed the door of an electronics firm owned by a former high school friend.  As I walked by, my friend Ken came out the door and on the spur of the moment I asked if he had any positions for technicians.  His response was, “Yes, come to work Monday morning.”  That was the extent of my interview for the job with MPH Industries that God wanted me to do for the next 21years.

After several years with MPH, in 1988, the company was sold to MPD Inc. of Owensboro, KY.  I accepted an invitation to move my family to Owensboro where after a short time I was named Product Service Supervisor.  It was an extremely challenging position, fast paced and high stressed.  Looking back now I have to ask if God was telling me to leave or He was teaching me to depend on him.  My dependence on God was the only thing that got me through the 16 years as the supervisor. 

At our church in Kentucky I was one of two lay persons asked by our pastor to be trained as a part of the pulpit supply program so I could fill in at area Lutheran churches in the absence of the pastor.   I still don’t know why I was asked to participate in this program but I am grateful for the invitation.

In 2005 I was in a position to take early retirement.  I then went to work part time with a big box home improvement store for the next seven and a half years until I retired completely. 

After 28 years in Kentucky, God said He had something different for us to do.  Our daughter, Jill, and her husband and two young sons were moved from Bowling Green where they had been on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ on the Western Kentucky University campus.  They were reassigned to the office in Apex, North Carolina.  They bought a home in Fuquay-Varina.  This move put our grandsons eleven hours away from us rather than the one hour we were accustomed to in Kentucky.  We would move to be closer to them.

We called a realtor in Owensboro seeking an appraisal of our home.  She provided us with one then a couple of weeks later she called and said she had a buyer who would like to see our home if we were prepared to move.  This was in the fall; we had not planned to move until the following spring.  The couple toured our home, made an offer, we countered, they accepted and we were homeless!  But, God had his hand on us.

After 28 years we would be leaving Owensboro, we would be going to North Carolina to be near our grandsons.  We made a couple of house hunting trips but didn’t find anything we really liked until the final morning.  I woke up and was prepared to make an offer on one of the houses we had seen, not that I really liked it but it would do. We would settle on one.  Then our realtor suggested one that I had discounted before.  It was a brand new home on 1.5 acres with a creek running through the front yard.  As it turned out the new home was less expensive than the one I was about to settle on.  It has about one acre of lawn and a half acre of woods.  I loved it and knew as soon as we walked in this would be the home for us.  It was only eight miles, 10 minutes from Jill and her family. 

We made the move in December 2016 in time to set the Christmas tree up among all the boxes of unpacked possessions.

We were in North Carolina in time for our granddaughter to be born in May.  If we had waited until spring we may have missed her birth. 

On July 3^rd of this year we attended a fireworks display put on at the home of a couple who attend the same church we do.  Being the photographer I am I had to lug not only a camera and tripod but a couple of chairs and water bottles.  We got there and set up in a good location for making pictures of the fireworks.  We were a little concerned that the outside temperature may be more than I could stand plus the smoke from the fireworks.  The temperature was in the mid 80s with a gentle breeze, quite comfortable.  The smoke was not an issue as it was blowing another direction. 

Soon we were joined by friends Jim and Winnona, a couple we have enjoyed the company of in our home, in their home and at an occasional dinner.  Other people from our home group were there, Angie along with one of her sons, Kolton, and friend Linda.  We enjoyed a generous amount of ice cream and a very good display of fireworks.  When it came time to go home it was obvious that our friends had already discussed helping us get everything back to the car.  Jim picked up my camera and tripod.  Someone carried our chairs, leaving me to carry only my backpack oxygen concentrator.  Mary went ahead to get the car started and cooled down inside.  We were about half way to the car when I all of a sudden got very warm, very warm.  The house blocked the breeze and I was in trouble breathing.  Someone sat up a chair in the driveway for me to sit in briefly.  It soon became obvious that Linda had medical training as she coached me along to regain normal breathing.  They had Mary drive the car into the driveway near to where I was sitting.  When my breathing stabilized Linda and Winnona guided me to the car and got me situated.  Jim backed us out of the driveway while Winnona and Linda, with flash lights, stopped traffic so we could get backed onto the road and headed home.  We were home only briefly and Mary was texting Winnona to let them know we were safely home an all was well when Mary’s phone rang and it was Winnona.  She and Jim were at the end of our driveway checking to make sure we got home safely.

What wonderful friends God has put on our life paths to look out for us, to help us.  And not only that, God put us here to be of help to others when they are facing trials.  What a privilege it is to be used by God to care for his creation.

God was there at our birth.  One of these days God will give us the wonderful gift of birth into heaven.  He will be there to welcome us home.  We are in His hands from now through eternity. 

                       

My Dream

As I awaken into this new world, this new part of life I am amazed at what I see, at what I sense.  I see a world filled with a peaceful white light, a shadowless light that comes from all directions at once.  I hear music that is exceedingly pleasant to my ears, the kind that is beyond calming, beyond sedate.  There is singing in the far distance, a thousand thousand voices all in unison giving rise to music as gentle as a breeze blowing through the treetop leaves, as gentle as the breath of a sleeping child.   I feel a light wind blowing from I know not where, going to I know not where.  This new world is filled with a warm, caressing love beyond human experience.

For years I have been sleeping.  Through school and career, through travel and entertainment I have slept and dreamed.  I have dreamed of childhood adventures, of writing, of drawing.  I have slept through marriage and retirement and illness.  I was dreaming all along that I was living a reality.

I awakened in the arms of Jesus.  My past dream is a fading reality; I remember only the best of bits and pieces.  The bad and ugly are gone, I remember them no more.

I have awakened into eternity, the nightmare is over.  From this day forward I am in the holy presence of God.

Zion Methodist Church II

ZION METHODIST CHURCH II

Living on a Kansas farm in the 1950’s was a quiet existence.  We had a few neighbors but our social life centered on a one room school house and an older wood-framed church.

The church we grew up in was Zion Methodist Church.  It was a small country church located at the intersection of two gravel roads a couple of miles north of our home place. 

The building wasn’t real fancy, but then it didn’t have to be for God to bless us.  On a Sunday morning we could expect anywhere from three to 20 in attendance depending on the weather and the point in the harvest season. 

It was heated in the winter with a wood stove and cooled by three open windows on the north side, three on the south side, and the double doors on the east end.  It wasn’t uncommon for an intruding wasp to infringe on our worship service and Sunday school. 

The pews were made of wood, a row down each side and a third row in the middle.  In the ‘50s I was young enough that when we sat in the pews my feet wouldn’t touch the floor.  I would occasionally feel a tap from Mom to get me to quit swinging my feet back and forth.

Our preacher was a fellow named Judd Jones; we shared him with the big Methodist church in town.  He came to Zion every other Sunday to deliver a sermon, conduct any rites such as baptism and communion.  After Dr. Jones concluded the worship service we had Sunday school.  Broken up into three or four groups by age, we all met in the same building.  It might have been somewhat noisy in there with three or four groups going at the same time but it worked.

The church hosted various events throughout the year.  Some were widely attended by the surrounding community whether they were members or not.  Along with our summer Bible School and Christmas Eve service was the annual bazaar.  This was a most memorable, much anticipated event where all kinds of donated items were auctioned off to raise funds for the church.  The Ladies Aid made quilts to be sold.  Some women made cakes or pies or cookies.  People came from miles around for this event.  People who attended other churches would show up, not necessarily for the bargains, but for the fellowship.   

One item that sold was a perennial favorite; it was an old fashioned bonnet, the kind worn by ladies in the old west.  It was light blue in color about like a robin’s egg with white polka dots.  This bonnet sold at least once at each bazaar and would return year after year to be auctioned off again.  The crowd would always applaud when the auctioneer brought the bonnet out, and roared with laughter when he demonstrated it by putting it on his head.  

Zion Methodist Church is no more.  Like many other country churches the congregation dwindled through the deaths of the more senior members and the moving of the younger generations.  Gone is the congregation.  Gone is the bazaar.  Gone is Zion Methodist Church.  All have evaporated into the past never to return.  In the 1970’s the building was moved into town and is now the sanctuary of another congregation. 

God was with us at Zion.  Unlike the bonnet, He isn’t going to go away.  Unlike the congregation, He is not going to evaporate into the past.  By His grace, by His mercy He is with us.  He was with us in the past, He is with us today, and He will be with us tomorrow.  Let us remember and give thanks for the many ways He has blessed each of our lives. 

Grandmas' Chocolate Pudding

Grandma Myers’ Chocolate Pudding

It was quite an experience growing up in Wilson County in the Southeast corner of Kansas back in the 1950’s.  We had few neighbors but always something to do on the farm including chores such as milking the cows and feeding the chickens and homework from a one room schoolhouse named Union Valley.  Being the third of three children I would have been wearing hand-me-down clothes from my brother who is a year older.   About this time I’m referring to I was in the 4^th grade. 

Fortunately my grandparents lived only a few miles away so frequent visits were possible unlike today with grandchildren are spread across the country. 

Two or three times each year, like Thanksgiving and Christmas, we would go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a big family meal with cousins, aunts, uncles, and naturally Grandma and Grandpa.  Whenever we shared a meal at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s it was always quite an event.  It was obvious that Grandma had been working all morning preparing dishes for all of us to enjoy.  And enjoy we did. 

Grandma’s kitchen was somewhat large with plenty of room for the range, cabinets, and a buffet and lots of people.  In one corner near the door leading to the living room was Grandma’s treadle Singer sewing machine and next to it on a small table was the telephone, one that had no dial and no buttons.  It was just a plain phone connected to a party line that was shared with four or five neighbors.

On these family occasions the kitchen was filled with the laughter of the ladies, Grandma’s laugh especially, as they visited while finishing the meal preparations.  There would be aunts and sisters, daughters and mothers and the crying of an infant or two. 

In an adjoining living room the men would gather, Grandpa in his favorite chair next to his shelves of Louis L’Amour books with dads and uncles spread around the room.  There was the old worn couch, a black and white Sylvania TV, the kind that you have to get up out of your chair and walk across the room and turn the dial to get one of the other three stations.  There was a door to the north porch which was only opened to bring in wood for the stove.  The men would visit telling stories and jokes while the young children played with their toys on the floor. 

The older kids ran and played outside in the yard and among the trees of the forest.  They would jump over the creek and rustle in the leaves.  We would follow a rustic road that lead down into and up out of a valley to the barn where cows were milked twice daily.

When the time came, Grandma invited us all into the kitchen, and asked Uncle Ed to say grace. He is a devout Christian and had the most resonous voice.  He could have been a radio announcer.   In real life he was a career Air Force man so if he and Aunt Margaret weren’t in England or Alaska he would ask the blessing.

Walking into Grandma’s kitchen was like walking into a warm hug.  The heat from the oven gave the kitchen a cozy, welcoming feeling. Kind of warm and fuzzy if you will.  The aroma of fried chicken and mashed potatoes filled the air.  Also, Grandma made the best noodles I have ever had.  They were not only tasty but their texture was pleasing to the pallet all the way down.  The table was covered with meats and salads and vegetables were always in plentiful supply.   And always, near the center, there was a big bowl of Grandma’s homemade chocolate pudding.

In our home chocolate pudding was treated as a desert.  But at Grandma’s house, chocolate pudding was something special.  Grandma served her chocolate pudding as if it was another dish of a meal to be enjoyed with the meats and salads.  That’s what made it special at Grandma’s house.  I could have chocolate pudding any time from the beginning of the meal to the end.  Wow!  I loved that.  I understand that one uncle put chocolate pudding on his mashed potatoes instead of gravy.

Her chocolate pudding was a dark brown and creamy.  It was so sweet tasting that one’s taste buds stood at attention at just the mention of it.  One’s tongue would whip around in the mouth against the teeth on each side in eager anticipation of the chocolaty taste.  It was so good that relatives would come from miles around in expectancy of the wonderful flavor.  It was home made.  Nothing out of a box.  Nothing off the shelf.  Just good old Grandma type of chocolate pudding.  Better than both of my other favorite deserts, Baklava and apple strudel.

After the “Amen” we would fill our plates with more food than we could possibly eat, always leaving room for chocolate pudding.

We kids would eat at card tables erected on the front screened-in porch.   

When the food had been enjoyed, when the dishes had been washed and dried and put away.  When the leftovers had been put into the refrigerator or doled out to various family members, after the kids had exhausted themselves eating and running, after the men had told all their stories and jokes and the women had caught up on all the family news, it was time to go home.  We had enjoyed one another’s company again.  We had eaten too much, again.  We had relished the love of family, especially the love that Grandma and Grandpa had for their family.

Now that I’m grown and considerably older I still take pleasure in the memories of family get-togethers at my grandparents’ home.  I look with fondness on the fellowship we shared with aunts, uncles, and cousins.  Now we are spread far and wide, some of the older ones have joined Jesus in heaven.  But, the memories of youth while growing up in Wilson County are still with me.  Especially the wonderful taste of Grandma’s chocolate pudding.