It is an angry world I wake up to every morning.  As with all things human, I'm sure it is no more angry now than at any other time in history. We just have the ability to express that anger to a wider audience.  Our computers, our smartphones, and tablets become the vehicle of our anger, giving it greater distance than ever before.  The plumber who used to gripe to one or two people, go home, and live in relative anonymity can take their 140 character rants to a far ranging public and at least feel significant.  Instead of being some kind of cathartic release, though, it becomes the fuel for an ever increasing fire.  No one is spared the righteous indignation, nor is any fire too small to fan into a raging inferno. 
I've been writing these blogs as a release for my own need to be significant and relevant to a world that seems to be spinning out of control into chaos.  Finding the peace of God in the midst of an angry world is simply a matter of turning off the noise.  I no longer watch broadcast news of any persuasion. I did this a few years ago, and found my attitude became much better.  As an admitted christian conservative I found myself grinding my teeth, yelling at the TV, and despising people I didn't even know.  I could pick and choose what I wanted to read, or watch through the internet, so I became very selective.  Then came the 2016 elections!    I had to stop reading everything.   Then the campaigns found Facebook.  There was no place safe from the vitriol coming from both parties of our government.  So, two weeks ago I completely closed down my Facebook account. 
That doesn't stop me from being concerned about the direction our nation is headed.  While the 'left' would have us believe that there is a 'white supremacist' behind every corner, I see more evidence for an energized Anti-fa than I do for a sleeping KKK. 
Probably the greatest sorrow I feel is for the educators in our colleges, universities, and even high schools.  For being so highly educated, they have forgotten what happened to the educators in Russia, and China during their respective purges.  I mean, it's only minor history.  Something like the teachers being the first ones to be killed.  Anarchy is a monster that devours its own.  So, I pray.  I pray for love and compassion to once again rule the hearts and lives of Americans.  Will I see it?  I don't know.  Right now, as I'm writing this, I can see a squirrel scampering across the top of our fence toward a tree.  He is carrying a huge walnut in his mouth and looking for rival squirrels.  He isn't feeling the love at the moment.  This is the attitude I'm afraid will lead our young people to greater anger.  I can only pray I will be found worthy of the truth within me when the time comes. 

OPEN WINDOW, OPEN HEART

I've been busy!  Our 'new to us' house is livable, and we are moved in.  This makes my days longer and even more blurry than they were before.  It's not a complaint, just a fact.  The journey from our old home out in the country to our home in the city is in its eighteenth month.  I won't call the project complete until the outside is trimmed out and the house is painted.  Then it will be maintenance.  I'm saying all of this because I just opened a window in my office to let the cool early morning air in.   It's a cool Sunday morning, and I can hear numerous dogs barking in the distance.  The sound of traffic is something I will have to get accustomed to.  It doesn't keep me up at night, but it is louder than our old house in the country.  It reminds me of my old office at the church.  Which brings me to the title of this post.
A lot has happened since my last post.  We have a new President of our nation.  We have riots, protests, and hate mongers everywhere.  I'm not sure, but I don't think there has ever been a President who elicited death threats or violence if you admitted to voting for him.  We have angry hateful people calling other people hateful, and those people being labeled as being hateful are becoming less tolerant.  I never thought I'd see the day when colleges and universities would forbid anyone to speak. I never thought I'd see sexual rights (which aren't guaranteed) replace religious freedom (which is guaranteed).  Everyone is hunkered down in their dogmatic foxhole lobbing vitriolic mortars at one another.  If you stick your head up, you risk being sniped.  The 'left' screams resist and the 'right' screams back.  As a christian conservative, I've never felt more uneasy than I do right now. Everything I cherish and hold true is being challenged and turned on its head.  Even as I write this, I realize all it would take is someone reporting my blog as 'hate speech' and Google would close me down, but I digress.
The problem is air conditioning.  We keep our homes locked up solid all year long.  The windows are for looking through not listening. We condition our air, and end up conditioning our lives.  God forbid we should be uncomfortable. We've lost the ability to listen to one another.  When I was a young boy growing up in El Paso, Texas, we didn't have air conditioning.  We had swamp coolers, and you had to have a window open to allow the chilled air to pass through.  That window was usually in my room.  I could hear the neighbors TV sets, their fights with children and one another.  I could hear the street traffic, the sound of dogs barking, and crickets.  When neighbors met during the day, the most common question was; "did you hear 'that' last night?"  (Whatever 'that' was, was usually a neighbor forgetting everyone had a window open.)  Then, everyone started getting air conditioning.  The windows started closing, and amazingly people stopped meeting each other on the street. Chain link fences went up, and eventually bars over the windows.  I saw a picture of our old house not long ago, and it truly looks like a prison with ten foot high chain link fence and concertina wire atop it.  I can remember laying out on the grass in our front yard staring at the stars.  Now there is not grass.  It looks like a prison yard. I used to live in a neighborhood where all the kids knew each other and were free to play outside until nine at night.
Now, my neighborhood is digital.  Facebook, instagram, and snapchat have replaced meeting people face to face.  Husbands and wives text each other in the same room instead of talking.  Children don't even text their parents.  This is not the kind of relationships I want in the city.
Sometime soon, I'm going to put a birdbath outside the window to my home office.  I'm going to put a green table close to the fence and sit at it while my neighbors do their thing.  We are going to invite people over for Sunday dinner.  We'll sit down and discuss the disgust we see around us.  We'll open our windows and hopefully hear the occasional sounds of life beyond the TV set.  I'll be glad to hear the sparrows skittering and splashing in their bath.  I will open my window and open my heart, which is pretty amazing for me considering I'm an introvert.  

A Special Woman

Now that I have honored God for giving me a spectacular birthday, I'd like to give honor to my wife for her part in all of it.  Anyone who reads my blog knows how much I value her, and love her.  She has taught me how to be a better man, and made my days full.  This year we will celebrate our fortieth anniversary, which is an amazing thing in itself.

She arranged the steak dinner with my parents, baked my favorite cake, and saw to it that I was treated like a king.  I wasn't aware of her doing this at any time.  She surprised the socks off of me.  Anyone who knows my wife knows that when she decides to bless you, you are going to be blessed.  She's good at it.  Very good at it.

At Christmas she bought me a Keurig coffee maker which is something I'd been wanting for a long time.  When she asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I told her i wanted one of those K-cup carousels.  Typical Glenda style, I had two, I also get a big box of coffee to go with it.  Not one of those measly 8 or 12 packs, 42!!!!!   Is that cool?  

Then she gave me something totally unexpected.  A Silver Dollar City season pass.  Yep, that's what we'll be doing this year.

I have a Proverbs 31 kind of woman.  

I bless God for her every day.  Her children bless her,  Her grandchildren adore her.

So, thank you Lord for giving me such a wonderful woman, you have shown me your favor.

I will have fun this year!!!!!!!

My Birthday

I’ve been away from the sparrows perch for quite a while.  I’d become convinced my words were useless, my thoughts unimportant, and my dreams unobtainable.  Then I remembered why I even began writing this blog.  Why does anyone keep a blog?  For me it was simple; I’ve always enjoyed writing.  From the time I was in middle school, I’ve always enjoyed expressing my thoughts through the written word.  They may not move you, bring you to believe what I believe, but at least they will be written down for those who love me to remember who I was.  As anyone who’s followed me in the past knows, I’m keenly aware of my mortality.  Not that it makes a difference how old you are.  Death comes at any age, and we aren’t guaranteed today, let alone tomorrow. 

I turned 61 yesterday.  Unlike past birthdays where I was content to make it just another day, God was intent on making it a special day.  I say God because it came at me from every direction imaginable.  I’m always happy just to have my children call me, text me, or even drop in.  I especially like it when my Mother remembers how much pain I caused her, and then how happy she was for that pain.  I love it when my wife suddenly remembers she is slightly more than a year younger than me, and she will be in my shoes sooner than she thinks.  This year, God orchestrated the most wonderful birthday I’ve had in my adult life.  The gifts that spoke to me would not mean a thing to anyone else.  From the men’s group I was blessed with numerous gift cards to my favorite Mexican food restaurant.  It shows they know me well enough to buy me what would please me.  Then the Bible with the simple engraving “Teacher” on it.  It’s what I do, it’s who I am.  It rests on the center of my Desk,  amidst the piles of papers, cards, and other business stuff of my life.  I put my hand upon the engraving and soak in the meaning of it.  These men who are much better men than myself, allow me the privilege of pulling from heaven what they need for the week.  I’ve begun to look at myself as a water bearer.  I’m here to pull down the rain of revelation, and to draw up from the well of God’s Word.  This alone gives me purpose, and makes my days valid.  I’m not more knowledgeable, more spiritual, or even more gifted than my brothers.  Any man in our group can step into the name ‘teacher’ and do it better than me.  It doesn’t bother me to say that.  A matter of fact I’m proud to say it.  It means we’ve moved beyond the traditions of men and stepped into the spiritual aspect of teaching.  Still, resting my hand upon that simple word engraved on a lovely bible draws me to a higher calling.  I can’t let these men down. 

You might still be wondering how I can give God credit for orchestrating my birthday celebration, so let me give you a Holy Ghost moment.   My Mom and Dad had invited Glenda and I over for grilled steaks.  We’d had a wonderful evening and it was time for the birthday cake.  As I was lighting the candles, my son, Anthony calls me up.  I put him on speakerphone so he could be a part of singing Happy Birthday to me.  The moment was so beautiful and tender.  Having my son be a part of my birthday wish was beyond coincidence.  He was waiting outside the door of a maternity room where his brother and sister-in-law were welcoming their little girl into this life.  The joyous celebration of life continues regardless of the terrors around us.  Sixty one years ago, I was born into a troubled time.  1955 was a traumatic year and I’ve lived much longer than I thought I ever would.  Still, while lighting the candles on my cake, my son who lives nearly 600 miles away, was celebrating another life joining the parade of hope. 

That was the gift God gave me yesterday.  He gave me hope.  Like Job, I know I will see God in the land of the living.  I will see hope realized. 

As a final word, I’ve been watching a movie by Darren Wilson called “Holy Ghost.”  I highly recommend this movie for anyone, whether you are a believer or not, it will challenge you.  Miracles will never convince you to believe in God, but they will force you to decide what you believe.  You can dismiss what you see, or you can embrace the love of God as revealed through the work of His Holy Spirit.  You see, Saturday a brother in the Lord challenged me with seeing it because the Holy Spirit told him to mention it to me.  He hadn’t seen it himself, but God was telling him I needed to see it. I bought it online, and watched it with silent hope.  Sunday, I knew we were in for a treat.  Holy Spirit stepped up, healed, restored, and encouraged.  He does that you know!!!!!   Anyway, that is why I knew my birthday was a gift from God.  This simple thought sprung up in my heart as I put my head upon my pillow last night, “I was thrilled the moment you were born, I’d been waiting for you from eternity, and will love you through eternity.”   I’d almost fallen asleep in that warm glow when my oldest daughter called.  

YEP!!!!!

Oh For Grace To Trust Him More

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you already know the quiet hours of the morning are my favorite time to read the Bible and pray. Right now, my office at the church is probably an oven, so I don't even bother going there. During the cold of winter, and the dead of summer, I have to avoid my office, mainly because it costs so much to heat and cool the church just for me to sit in an office. Putting in a window air conditioner works against the beauty of opening the window and hearing the sparrows as they flutter just outside of it. So, I'm writing this from the confines of my office at home.  I can't see or hear the sparrows, but I know they are still trusting God for their daily provision.  

Oh Yeah, I was talking about bible reading and prayer time. I thank God for His word, and the presence of His Holy Spirit. Without them, I don't know if I would be able to be writing this right now. It's been a tumultuous couple of months. Actually it's been a trying, and painful, and painful, and . . . well painful couple of months. It's alright for a Christian to say that. I don't know how it became unfashionable to admit to being in adverse situations, but I do know most Christians today feel as if it is sinful to admit you're in a trial. I've been in a trial for the last two months. If that's sinful, then, I've sinned. Actually, I've longed for the sparrow's perch, if for no other reason than to find those moments of peace I find there. All around me things have sped out of control. These last two months have been the leanest for work that I've had since I began being a handyman. The biggest struggle I have with that, is not being able to support the ministries I've made pledges to. If one more person tells me to have faith, I think I'm going to scream. I've been living by faith for the last eight years. Every job I get is the provision of God. Not just in some obscure way, but purely by the direction of the Holy Spirit. I don't advertise. The signs on my truck are the only advertisement I have. So, when the phone rings, I know it is a direct result of the Holy Spirit prompting someone's heart. Before the end of May, I had work scheduled through the beginning of August. Then came the cancellations. I went around shaking my head in disbelief. If the phone rang, I hesitated to answer it for fear it was another cancellation. I have to admit, my trust, and faith were tested. I was ready to go back into the job market, but I kept getting just enough work to keep afloat, even being able to go to Corpus Christi for our family reunion.

During this last two months, I've also had to endure some things I'd rather not ever deal with. Just the fact that I'm able to type once again is exciting to me. While working on a roof about two weeks ago, I tripped on my own two feet and fell while holding my tape measure. The belt clip sliced through my ring finger on my right hand. NOT FUNNY. Thankfully, I didn't fall off the roof. If I had, Glenda would have killed me. I'm only now getting full movement back in my pinky and ring finger. Praise God. It could have been worse. I thought of Psalm 91 as I climbed down the ladder.

I think the thing that rocked me the most was losing a long time friend this week to a tragic car accident. He was a loving, caring, and generous man, who I will miss greatly. He helped me to get my feet on the ground in the handyman business. The circumstances of his death were senseless. It sucked my breath away when I heard about it. There are very few men I will drop what I'm doing and go help them out, but Terry Stambaugh was one of those men. When I was starting out, and I would wonder where my next job was going to come from, Terry would call. I knew he was listening to the Holy Spirit. I look forward to meeting him on the other side of this vale.

Then to add insult to injury, one of the young ladies of our church family was in a terrible car accident yesterday morning. She survived, but with terrible injuries. To make matters worse, I have no way to go visit the family. Her father is the reason I launched out into being God-employed. Her surgery went well, and I believe God for her full recovery. Still, my prayers are with her and the family.

Then I get a phone call from Glenda telling me her dad fell last night. He's going blind, and he needs to come home with her. LONG PAUSE! Our home is not blind friendly. We have numerous steps into the house, in the house, and we live in the country. Panic!!!!!! For about five minutes. Then it happened. God's grace came over me. I won't bore you with every thing the Holy Spirit spoke into my heart, but I will share with you my Sparrow moment. Without adversity, trial, or conflict, grace can't be released into our lives. There can't be a miracle without something that demands a miracle be done. There can't be peace without a trial to make it's presence known, and we can't know trust if we don't have a reason to trust. Happiness can come from anything, but joy is the triumphant exultation of faith over the adverse circumstances of life. When grace is released into our lives, we no longer care about what brought us there, but only about Christ being THERE with us.

I don't know if tomorrow I will have another job, I don't even have the promise of tomorrow, but I do know in whom I believe, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep everything I've given to him. (Dave's paraphrase.) The big question is: What have I given him? I believe He will see me through anything that I trust him with. Nearly eight years ago, I gave him my income. My livelihood is in his hands. My health is in his hands. My dreams for tomorrow are in his hands. My father-in-law is in his hands. Like the old hymn says, “Oh for grace to trust him more.” Thank you sweet Holy Spirit for your abiding presence.   

THE END OF MY DANIEL FAST

WARNING:  THIS IS AN EXTREMELY LONG POST 

Fifty days!  If you’d have asked me at the beginning of this fast what I was thinking, I couldn’t have told you. It began as a simple whim in response to one sentence my daughter Amanda made while having lunch with me.  That one sentence was a seed that quickly began to take root.  The gist of what she told me, was that her Church in Wynne, Arkansas does a corporate 21 day Daniel Fast at the beginning of the year.  They do it for clarity, and direction, but as I sat listening to her, I became intrigued.  After I decided I wanted to do this for myself, I sat down and made a list of things I wanted answers for in my life, and things I wanted for the faith fellowship I love.  Then came the decision for how long I would fast.  It was one week before Resurrection Sunday (Easter) and I’d already embarked on a partial fast that week.  By Wednesday night, I felt impressed to fast till Pentecost Sunday.  That simple, that easy. 

As some of you have kept up with my journey, you’ve probably wondered what I was asking prayer for, and what I’ve gained. Others of you will probably care less.  I didn’t give you specifics, because I didn’t want someone artificially pumping me up, or purposely working me. One thing I will tell you from the outset, food was not on my mind when I began this, but it became abundantly clear, that food was at the core of everything. 

MY PRAYER NEEDS:

As an INFJ (Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging) personality type, (of which I score in the high 70’s multiple times),  I often find myself at odds with what is expected of me as a father, husband, friend, and pastor, and what I ‘feel’ like doing.  My nature is to withdraw quietly within myself, and only allow a handful of people to get close to me.  I like my little home, with my little office, and the seclusion it affords. When I don’t like something, or someone, it is easy to withdraw, ignore, and isolate myself.    If someone hurts me, or makes unreasonable demands of me, I can simply escape to my little turtle shell.  Not always good, but at least it's safe.

My first prayer request was for God to show me how to love beyond hurt, and pain. 

Loving those who treat us good is easy.  Loving those who agree with us is especially easy.  Loving those who are constantly giving to you is easy.  I like easy.  It’s like those “Staples” commercials with the ‘EASY’ button. Who doesn’t want to keep pressing the ‘easy’ button all the time?  While I've been on this fast, EASY is not what I got.  Almost from the very first day, I was thrust back into past hurtful relationships, confronted with angry clients, and forced to do things I despise.  For example, every job I got called out on for the first two weeks was something I hated to do, and sometimes humiliating.  At 60 years old I was doing the very same things my father had me do when I was fourteen!  Digging holes, cleaning up crap from people’s messy lives, raking rocks, and wrestling railroad ties seemed to be all I was called to do. EASY was not on the menu.  The Holy Spirit was backing me into a corner where there was no way out.  MY PRIDE WAS HURTING. No matter how far I withdrew into my little turtle shell, the Holy Spirit was like a bulldog trying to get me to come out.  One particular day when a long time client cancelled a very long term job, I found myself battling all kinds of evil thoughts.  I won’t tell you the thoughts that came into my mind, but suffice it to say they were feelings of rejection, betrayal, and worthlessness.  I battled these thoughts for two days; “God! I’m supposed to be getting closer to you”  I screamed as I thought of ending the fast and burying my sorrow in a big puffy marshmallow cream filled ‘long John.’  “Where are you God?”   “What’s going on here?!!”  “What’s the use of being on this fast, if things in my life don’t get better.”  Then came the real anger.  “Well, that’s just like ‘so and so’”  I thought to myself.  “He got me all excited about doing a job and then backs out on me.”   By the end of two days I was mad at God, and darn right hateful toward the client.  (Yes, I do get mad at God, and I’m not afraid to admit it, because in the end, I am in fearful awe of Him.) What I think hurts God more than being mad at Him, is when we are angry at one another.  I nursed this anger for another day until Pastor Eric taught on ‘forgiveness’ that Sunday morning.  I’d allowed my desire for EASY to be the bait Satan used to make me angry at a good friend, and a good God.  I didn’t see my friend’s sorrow, nor did I care.  It was all about me.  I went home that afternoon from Church and bawled my eyes out, even as I wrote my blog.  I wanted to tell everyone what had happened, so I could get sympathy, but the Holy Spirit wouldn’t let me.  I had to write the blog three times before my ‘Editor’ (the Holy Spirit) would let me post it.

 

I came out of that time with a better understanding of God’s Presence in the midst of our greatest betrayals.  It is easy to think God doesn’t feel like we do.  He’s God, right?  Nothing touches Him, right?  Wrong!  The next day, as I drove to my first job the Holy Spirit spoke into my resignation.  

“I was betrayed, too.” came the tender voice of the bulldog. “More times than you can imagine.”    

“Come on, God!  You’re wearing it out”  I said to myself.

The Holy Spirit wasn’t about to let me sulk.  “I gave everything I could give, and still people betray me.”  “I make such beautiful plans for people’s lives, and still they choose their own way. I have to watch in sorrow as they cancel out on what I could do for them.”  “You began this fast asking me to help you love beyond yourself, and instead you’ve whined and complained about what’s happened.  I’m asking you to trust me, that this will all be good in the end.”   That morning, I realized I’d slipped into self-pity once more. 

I had to accept that loving beyond myself isn’t a one-time easy fix.  It will be a lifetime of people doing and saying things that hurt me, especially those I cherish most.  Loving them in-spite of themselves is what I’m called to do, even if I don’t like it. 

MY SECOND PRAYER REQUEST WAS TO BECOME MORE DEPENDENT ON THE LORD.

From a strictly human viewpoint, that was the stupidest thing to ask God to do.  For me it was a behavioral change.  I’ve always trusted God, sometimes to the confusion of those who believe I should be more practical.  Still, I felt that there was a deeper dependency than what I’d already given.  I thought when I began it would be about him sustaining my strength without my usual diet.  EEhhhhhhh, No!  What came out of this request was something I’d not even expected, and which is still working in my life.  It was summed up in something my wife said to me during a not too pleasant conversation.  Still the answer was in front of me all the time.

 

As a faith filled Christian, who believes in living my faith out loud, it is hard for me to balance that against my natural skills, abilities, and proclivity to solve things for myself.  Simply put, I’m a doer. I wouldn't be a handyman if I wasn't.   I take after my Dad, who if things are quiet for more than ten minutes, believes something is wrong with his world.  As the ‘fast’ wore on, I found myself confronted with a sudden drop off in work, and cancellations.  I shared a little bit of this with you in an earlier blog, so I won’t bore you with a re-hash.  Suffice it to say, this has been one of the driest two months in the history of my doing the handyman business.  I’m down to the last $600 of my savings, and I don’t have any jobs on the docket.  I’ve questioned God, questioned me, and began thinking of whether I should try to re-enter the ‘employed’ economy.   I was driving home from a small job three days ago (Friday), when I began to murmur about the lack of work, and God’s apparent abandonment of me.  I wondered what the use was of being on this fast if it didn’t produce anything good in me.  Didn’t God see the sacrifice I was making?   Everyone at home, in my church, and in my family is looking at me, and it looks like I’m a fool. ‘Look at super spiritual Dave, he’s on this fast and everything is falling apart around him.’  

“I trusted you, God!”  I screamed out as I pounded my steering wheel.  “Where are you?”   I pulled over at the top of the hill overlooking the city, and sobbed like I haven’t sobbed in a long time.  From deep within me, the Holy Spirit began to calm the tears, I know it was Him, because it was feeling good to keep on crying.  If no one else would give me sympathy, I could at least enjoy a good pout.

NOT!

“When was the last time you asked me for work?”  came the voice of the Holy Spirit from deep within me.

“Umm, Thursday, Lord.”  I answered back smugly.  “Remember I asked for the prayer group to pray for me.” 

“When was the last time YOU asked me for work?” 

I hadn’t.  I’d been too busy, proclaiming, speaking positive, thinking positive, trying to not be a disappointment to my faith. 

“Lord, I need work.”  I said meekly. 

“Not good enough.”  Replied the Holy Spirit.  “I know you need work.” 

“What do you want?” 

That’s when the conversation with my wife came back to my mind.  We’d been discussing in not so easy terms, how people can come off as appearing arrogant when they don’t ask for help.  The modern church has become good at doing the business of church.  As the Church, we’ve become so good at it, that we’ve abandoned the basics of doing ‘CHURCH.’   We  don’t want to impose on people, or make unreasonable demands on people, therefore we often come off as not needing people.  Don’t get me wrong, we’re good at asking for money, or church attendance, but more than that is an imposition.  The truth is, WE ALL WANT TO BE NEEDED. As we become more like Christ, it becomes stronger in us.  Why?  Because that is what God wants, He wants us to need Him.  As our ‘Daddy’ He still gets rocked when we need Him. Our need for His provision is the beginning of our faith if we let it work in us.  He likes it when we get specific with Him.  Why?  Because, the more specific we become with Him, the less chance we have of just passing it off as something other than Him.  Come on, admit it, He’s generically good to all mankind.  He gives rain, to the just, and unjust alike.  Our planet continues to spin as it always has, and will continue to do so for as long as he deems it.  His specific blessings are to those who ‘depend’ on Him.  Every lesson to the Children of Israel throughout the Old Testament was based upon His desire to be their provider.  When we rely upon our own strength to do the impossible, we end up with the feasible, reasonable, and rational.  When we rely on God, we end up with the truly miraculous.  NOW FOR THE EARTH SHAKING TRUTH MOST CHRISTIANS WILL NOT LIKE; God often uses us to be the miracle someone else needs.  We become the only God someone may know. We can become the miracle God wants to work. 

Our greatest disappointments with one another as Christians arise because we didn’t ask or place a demand upon one another.  We assume that the Holy Spirit will inform our brother or sisters of what we need, and that it will just happen.  We assume that simple loving kindness will make our brothers and sisters do the right things, and be all loving, and caring.  That isn’t the case.  Why?  Because most of us, (myself included) are so self-absorbed, battle scarred, or focused on living this life, that we don’t think of other people as we ought to.  I’m the biggest offender.  When we don’t specifically ask for help, we end up carrying  a great big trash bag of disappointments we’ve gathered, and when someone doesn’t think about us as we think they should, we throw it in the bag, and drag it around behind us.  Before long, we become so bitter, we never let the one’s we love off the hook.  I had this lesson taught to me years ago when the Holy Spirit gave me an intimate view into the lives of people who’d disappointed me in my past.  Now, nearly thirty years later, I’m going over the same lesson in a different way.  Here it is in a nutshell.

Ask for help, and ask specifically!   That way, the answer will be yes, no, or maybe later. (Which is yes, but not now.)  Give people an informed opportunity to either disappoint you, or surprise you.  Forgive them when they disappoint, and acknowledge them when they surprise you.  If we don’t give people a chance to disappoint us, we come across as arrogant, and conceited. We have to afford people the opportunity to be the outstretched hand of God.  This makes us yielded, and vulnerable at the same time.  The bible calls it being submissive, which doesn’t only apply to being a servant, but also to allowing others to serve us.  When we’re vulnerable, we’re transparent. 

I’ve learned over the past 60 years, that some people are marvelously adept as meeting the needs of others, and other people simply want to feel needed by being asked.  We also have to learn to be honest, and forthright when a demand is placed upon us. Generic requests for help doesn't acknowledge the gifts we see in people's lives.  We all want to feel that what we do is valued, whether it is making that special cake, or cookies, or knowing how to fix a car, or providing transportation.  Yes, it can become routine, and even expected, but then don’t we treat God the same way.  We treat God like a vending machine that we believe spews out goodness just because we do good things, when actually he’s a cupboard full of good things waiting for us to ask if we can have some.  His favor is that we can ask.  It isn’t necessary to be strong all the time.

PRAYER REQUESTS FOR MY FAITH FAMILY

My prayer requests for my faith family are still in work.  I’ve already told you one thing I would like to see done in our church, and I'm waiting for the answer.  We have so many needs in our old building, and I become so frustrated when I either don’t have the time or the money to fix them. I'm believing God for the funds to allow me to be employed full time at the church,  That’s what I’ve been praying for.  I know, it’s self-serving.  I grimace when I write it.  Then, when I step into our building, I hurt because I know what I could do.  I’d just like to spend my last remaining years doing what I do best for the Lord. Then somebody call the Waaambulance before I die of self-pity. 

THE GOOD STUFF

OKAY, now for the good stuff, or maybe not.  This fast put me in touch with my body in a way I’ve never experienced before.  I’ve learned what sugar has done to me.  None of it good.  AS OF TODAY I’ve lost 28 pounds.  I now weigh 160 pounds!  Now, at 5’ tall, this isn’t an ideal weight, and I still have a belly.  I’m down to a 34” waist, which is what I had when I left the Air Force back in 1995.   When I left the Air Force I weighed 148 pounds, although my ideal weight is supposed to be 95 to 127 pounds, I haven’t weighed 95 pounds since my junior year in High School.  I weighed 128 pounds when I went into the Air Force.  So, with all of that said, I would be happy to weigh between 128 to 135 pounds as I cruise toward the end of my life.  I lifted weights while stationed on the Stealth Fighter, and I expect that a good deal of my ‘excess’ weight is muscle mass.  When I get down to 140 pounds I’d like to do a real BMI test to discover how much of me is muscle, bone, and fat.  Charts, and calculators don’t take into account people’s  body style.   So the weight loss was exciting, and addictive.  As I step off the fast, I intend to stay as close to the fast as possible.  No more soda pop, no more added sugars, and a huge change in bread intake.  Hamburgers, and hot dogs are a thing of the past.  Not because of the meat, but because of the breads.  I’ll have to be careful with potatoes, because I do love potatoes. Mostly, one of the things that’s changed is a desire to stay on this for my wife Glenda.  She’s been battling diabetes for the last fifteen years that I know of, and who knows how long before that.  I didn’t begin this with her in mind, but as I saw the correlation between her ‘diabetes’ diet and the Daniel fast, it became a powerful reason to stay into it.  I can continue this forever, if it allows her to be healthier longer.  That wasn’t in me before the fast. Before the fast, it was ‘her problem’, and I didn’t want it to affect what I ate.  I would take her out to eat with little concern for what it meant for her.  Now, I find myself understanding her situation.  So much of our western diet is more than we need, and not good for us.  Oh, it tastes good going down, but it ends up debilitating us in our golden years.  I realize how much I love fresh veggies, (just not asparagus, because I think of ‘Junior Asparagus’ every time she gets one from the garden.)  I also realize what I’ve done to my metabolism by ingesting all the sugar that I have.   

END OF LECTURE.

Finally, if the weight loss wasn’t reason enough, I also learned how sugar affects my moods, and my drive.  If I’d not been doing the fast, and still going through everything I’ve gone through this last fifty days, I would have lost it.  My emotions are on a much more even keel.  Believe me, as you’ve already seen, I still make mistakes, and occasionally my old stinking thinking tries to wake up, but overall, the fast has shown me how sugar regulated my life.   I’m actually looking forward to another Daniel fast, but this time I’d like it to be a 21 day fast with my faith family.   Heck, if a meat and potatoes guy like me can go 50 days, anyone can.  

Oh, and by the way, I ended the fast with a plate of Chili Colorado from Nopalitos here in Harrison Arkansas.  I didn't eat the rice, I had refried beans without cheese, and corn tortillas.  All in all, I feel good.

So, here is to believing God for more than I can ask for, more than I can dream of, and more than I can hope for.  I'm ready God. 

God Bless, thank you for all your prayers, and may all your desires be God’s desires.  

FORTY THREE DAYS IN

It’s been 43 days now, and I don’t know how to describe the wonder of being at this point into the Daniel fast.  When I began it, I wasn’t sure what I was in for. What I do know is that I am feeling better than I’ve ever felt before.  The spiritual dynamic is beyond description, but first let me address the situation I left off with last week.  I appreciate everyone’s prayers for work. They worked!  Your prayers are what I coveted, not because I feared for anything, but because I know your prayers are strong.  It is your prayers that have enabled me to walk in peace throughout this week.  I hope and pray that no one felt I’d given up, as it was just the opposite.  Jesus is my refuge, my shelter, and my life, I could not be doing what I do if I didn’t trust him to provide. 

This past week was filled with exceptional times of revelation, and sweet times of communion.  I’ve learned so much, and am looking forward to what Christ is going to do this next week.  It is hard to believe that my goal is only one week away.  I can’t help but wonder what wondrous things are in store for this coming Pentecost. I only have one more personal request to be fulfilled, and only one request for our faith fellowship. I covet any prayers you may offer up on my behalf this week. 

So many good things happened this week, and I don’t know where to begin.  For brevity, let’s just say God is good! 

I’ve lost another five pounds, bringing me to 163 pounds.  I haven’t weighed 163 pounds since 1999.  You know, it would garner me so much sympathy if I could profess to be suffering for Jesus, but I can’t.  Actually I wish more people could’ve or would’ve joined with me in this if for no other reason than how healthy it would make them feel.  I know it’s a God thing because of how much I’ve learned, and enjoyed while doing this.  I don’t want to lecture, nor do I want to make anyone do any different than they are doing.  I will only say this:  My temperament is so much more level, my body is feeling so good. 

One very unusual thing happened this week.  Years ago I lost feeling in the skin on my upper left thigh.  Now I can feel it again.  A matter of fact my body seems to be more alive than ever before.  All glory to God!  

Join me next week for a report of what God has done, and a report of victory.  

Meanwhile, be blessed!