This morning I have nothing to say. If you know me, you know I love to write. I have never really experienced “writers block.” But this morning I have few words to share. I love to talk, but I am speechless.

There is a reason.

This summer has been flying by like there is no tomorrow. I just started using the word “June” when it was already “July.” And now August is almost over. I have had a summer packed with wonderful events I really wanted to happen.

Grandson Alex came for five weeks, and they seemed like five days. We enjoyed Orlando’s Holy Land Experience, an extended family reunion in Tennessee, Gatlinburg, and Dollywood. I had the joy of watching him become a “fish” as he was able to go swimming anytime he wanted and developed his water endurance. We “did” three days at Orlando’s Universal Studio Resort and Islands of Adventure (two days with Alex, one just Roy and me). Summer quarter got underway at the College and we are now gearing up for Fall quarter. It seems the only time I have stopped was just for the opportunity to catch a second-wind.

It is in those times that I am so busy, stressed with deadlines, with more things to do than the number of hours in a day; that I find myself going 90 miles an hour – in actions as well as words. It is in those times that I appreciate the wonderful phrase, “Be still.”

It is in the hurriedness of the moment that I realize that if I don’t slow down I will miss the important. “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).  Many times I have had to remind myself that if I don’t stop and listen, I will miss a very important message. God is not like the runners in Central Park. He does not have to wait until I am running to sprint toward me and tell me something. No, it is I who must slow down; “be still” in activities, words, and thoughts, to not only recognize but also to honor God.

Be still and listen. Be still and see. Be still and grow. Be still and know. Know that He is God! Be still and know that He knows everything about me, every challenge I must overcome, every joy I will experience. Be still and know that He must walk before me, not run behind me. Be still and elevate Him to His place of honor in my life.

Be still.

So this morning I am being still.  I know that He is God!

I have nothing else to say.

At the beginning of this calendar year, Pastor Mike challenged us to lead someone to Christ.  Shortly after the Sunday the Lord laid someone on my heart.  It is still my heart’s desire to be a part of leading that one to Christ before the year is out. 

However, I never dreamed that I would be involved in bringing my grandson to a recognition that he needed to give his life to Christ. 

Many of you know Alex.  Until he was six years old he lived here and attended church with us.  At a young and tender age he accepted Christ into his life.  When he was 6 years old, he and his father moved to California.  That first summer he returned for a summer visit.  The week before he returned home he was baptized.

Fast-forward 4+ years.  Alex is here this summer for 5 weeks; his first trip back to God’s country since he was 6 years old.  He had not been here long until he began to ask questions about God and Christianity.  He shared that he had been learning to chant (he shared this after hearing a Gregorian chant in a music presentation).  He knew the chants that he was learning were not the same.  He had been learning Buddhist chants.   A friend of his father is a practicing Buddhist.  Little ones are a sponge and really want to do whatever they can to please adults. 

One day, as he began to chant he stopped and asked, “Is that OK?”  It was not OK nor pleasing to God.  His heart was pricked.  I firmly believe Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go,  And when he is old he will not depart from it.”   After an explanation that Buddha is a figure, a dead figure, he is viewed by some as a god, but not The God, etc.; he immediately and solemnly bowed his head and asked forgiveness than asked that Christ accept him back as His child.  And like any other eleven year old, he then went right back to playing.  Oh, to have the faith of a child.  He simply realized that what he had been taught was wrong in God’s eyes, and he wanted to straighten that out immediately, and then go about being an eleven year old child.  That evening he called his father and when he got the answering machine his message was simply, “Hi Dad, I’m a Christian again.  Bye.”  This same message occurred for 3 consecutive days.  (The time difference was making it difficult to catch Dad at home on the west coast before it was bed-time on the east coast.)  When he finally got to talk to his dad, one of the first things he shared was, “I’m a Christian again.”  (I also believe that as in Isaiah 11, even the most unlikely can be led by a child.)

What is the point that I am trying to make?  1) Leading someone to Christ is one of the simplest things one can do.   It also is the most important; it has eternal ramifications.   2) The Holy Spirit will prepare a hungry heart, we are just involved in the role of serving, leading, and loving others to God.  3) Becoming a Child of God is so easy “a child can do it.”  We need not over complicate it.  As adults we need to be more child-like in our approach to the Throne.  4) God’s timing is impeccable.  We need only wait and be receptive.  He will prompt the hearts of those who do not know Him; we need to live lives so that when an unsaved friend or family member feels that “tug” they will know, by our lives, our words, and out actions that we can be approached for help in leading them to Christ.  Be careful what you pray for.  If you sincerely pray for God to lay someone on your heart to lead to Him, be ready.  That person may come to you when you least expect it; and may be someone you were not expecting.  

As some of you may know, our grandson, Alex, is visiting for the summer.  It’s been five years since he was last in southwest Georgia.  He lives in a year round cooler climate (northern California) and he recognized the difference the minute he stepped off the plane.  “Wow, it sure is humid here!”

Alex’s flight arrived in Orlando.  That was good.  My husband had a convention to attend in Orlando, so I was free to spend a couple of days in “children’s fantasy land,” just Alex and me, during the day.

One of the places that he wanted to go was a “theme park” of sorts called the Holy Land Experience.  I checked it out on the internet; the day we arrived (the day before he arrived) I found a brochure about it in the hotel lobby.  But I really was not prepared for our experience at the Holy Land Experience. 

When we first entered the “Gates of the City” we were transformed in time.  I must admit, the first few minutes at the “park” my impression was, “Wow, this is so cheesy.  What are we doing here?  This is a waste of time.”  We entered the “Smile of a Child” which is a part of the park focusing on the attention level and thrills of about a four year old child.  We walked through the throat and stomach (all made of fiberglass) of the whale – Jonah was suspended in the belly praying for an escape.  At the end of his prayer I was hoping at least he would disappear (the narrator added something like, “And Jonah was spit up by the whale and went to do the work of the Lord, as he was told.”)  But Jonah continued to be suspended right there in front of us in the belly of the whale.

We tromped through Noah’s fiberglass arc.  Cute from the outside, but inside was an educational video and little benches.  As we continued through I heard the little girl on the screen singing a Sesame Street type song about the letter “F”.  As we left the “Smile of a Child” we soon ran into time period dressed park employee.  She suggested that we view the scheduled events of the day and attend the dramatic productions that were available.  By now the sun was very hot and I was in total agreement since I figured those productions would be in an enclosure with air conditioning.  Guess what?  The Holy Land (the real one) doesn’t have a lot of artificial air conditioning – and neither did the park!

We went to the Garden Tomb.  A man was there talking about the tomb of Jesus and how in the Holy Land there are two places that hold claim to being the tomb of Jesus; one a garden tomb, the other a city tomb.  We continued to search for a reprieve from the sun and heat.  Temple Square had a musical patriotic production starting in a few minutes.  I saw a couple chairs in the shade of the tall walls.  Armed with ice cream sandwiches and cold lemon-aid, we grabbed those shaded seats.  Observations from the presentation; there was much more in this production than the music.  As we waited those few minutes before it started, a young man with a smile on his hot face handed us American flags.  I was really wondering if there would be an American patriotic musical actually held in the real temple courtyard.  The singers were absolutely amazing.  That, Alex enjoyed.  However, I found myself watching the people in the audience.  On the front row appeared to be a Middle Eastern couple; she in a sari of sorts; he in a tunic.  They were looked very hot in the now blazing direct sun.  When we all stood to pledge Allegiance to the American Flag, they politely rose but did not pledge.  We were seated and a young lady came out to sing the most moving Star Spangled Banner I have ever heard in my life.  As she began, “Oh, say can you see…..” that couple were the first to their feet.  I’ll admit, it was embarrassing to see so many “Americans” that did not know that you rise when the National Anthem is sung.

As the day progressed, a monk (OK, he was an employee), suggested that we not miss the one presentation of “Behold the Lamb.”  The crowd was already gathering around the Garden Tomb.  We actually found some benches in semi-shade and parked ourselves there for the 20 minute wait.  At least we had seats and were not in direct sun light.  I had no idea what we were about to view.  It was the most “passionate” Passion play I have ever experienced.  For a time there, I felt as if I were witnessing the crucifixion of our Savior.  As the actor (who was phenomenal) portrayed Jesus’ death, there were tears in the audience.  But wait; there was still the resurrection to come!  And then there were praises from the audience, just as I am sure there were “in the day.”

We took a 55 minute tour through the Scriptorium.  Authenticated displays that carried us from the beginning of time, through Egyptian hieroglyphics and the actual scrolls, on to the making of paper and priestly transcriptions, the Guttenberg press, an actual Guttenberg Bible, translations to the Latin, from Latin to English, from Greek and Hebrew to English, the stories of those who lost their lives in the controversy of translating the Bible, Jon Bunyan and the an original Pilgrims Progress, much in between these, and finally modern technology that brings the availability of the gospel to all people. 

The last cool – as in air-conditioned - production that we experienced was “Praises through the Ages,” which took art and music from the beginnings of the Psalms sung on the hill sides, all the way through Contemporary Christian music.  By the end of that the crowd was on their feet, singing with the performers and really praising God.  There were people from all over this country and beyond, many races, various walks of life, and a host of denominations – all praising God in one accord.

Tired and weary, we left the Holy Land Experience and drive for an hour and 17 minutes (11 miles in total) in rush hour traffic to return to the cool pool at the hotel.  That drive allowed time to talk and process what we had seen and heard.  Alex, who in 11 years old, felt as if he had really been to the Holy Land.  Everything impressed him and he was most moved with “Behold the Lamb” and to experience visiting the empty tomb.  Many things impressed me.  All day we had been in an Orlando “theme park” and I had not seen any rudeness, from staff or visitors.  There was no obnoxious behavior, no cursing, no pushing or complaining about hot waits in the sun.  I was most impressed that in each production venue, there were basically the same 10 or so cast members.  They had to have had tremendous stamina, sang and acted at a most professional level, and obviously changed clothes a dozen times – always arriving at the appropriate time – looking and acting like they were the real characters that they were portraying.

Alex experienced a piece of history.  I experienced a realization that God’s people are the real thing.  God’s people don’t look, act, or praise in all the same way.  And the Holy Land Experience, it was all about the experience; and the people made it real.

This morning I was reading an article entitled “Eat That Frog.” It was all about setting priorities correctly and having the carry-through to complete the most important priorities first. It was an interesting article. When I finished reading it, I was thrown into this tail-spin of “frog stories”.

My extended family has a family web site where we communicate with each other on a very regular basis. I have a couple of cousins that have the most off center sense of humor. I love it. I remember last summer they began sharing with the family how they were going to raise frogs to be sold for their frog-legs. And not just any frogs. These frogs were of the illegal variety. Daily we were kept up to date on the “frog” adventures. A cousin from military intelligence (civilian now) even tried to warn them of the consequences of such activities (he was the nephew of one of the frog farmers).

Of course the venture sadly ended when one day they checked out their pond of frogs and the frogs had all disappeared. Few in the family knew (or even know now) that the frog farm adventure was nothing more than a hoax from the minds of two cousins that can spin a tale so well it is hard to doubt them or see what they are saying for what it really is.

Bear with me as I share another story about frogs. Once, there was a frog that lived in the middle of a swamp. His entire family had lived in that swamp for generations, but this particular frog decided that he had had quite enough wetness to last him a lifetime. He decided that he was going to find a dry place to live instead. The only thing that separated him from dry land was a swampy, muddy, swiftly flowing river. But the river was home to all sorts of slippery, slithering snakes that loved nothing better than a good, plump frog for dinner, so Frog didn’t dare try to swim across. For many days, the frog stayed put, hopping along the bank, trying to think of a way to get across.

The snakes hissed and jeered at him, daring him to come closer, but he refused. Occasionally they would slither closer, jaws open to attack, but the frog always leaped out of the way. But no matter how far upstream he searched or how far downstream, the frog wasn’t able to find a way across the water. He had felt certain that there would be a bridge, or a place where the banks came together, yet all he found was more reeds and water. After a while, even the snakes stopped teasing him and went off in search of easier prey.

Suddenly, he spotted two big eyes staring at him from the water. The giant log-shaped animal opened its mouth and asked him, “What are you doing, Frog? Surely there are enough flies right there for a meal.” The frog croaked in surprise and leaped away from the crocodile. That creature could swallow him whole in a moment without thinking about it! Once he was satisfied that he was a safe distance away, he answered. “I’m tired of living in swampy waters, and I want to travel to the other side of the river. But if I swim across, the snakes will eat me.”

The crocodile harrumphed in agreement and sat, thinking, for a while. “Well, if you’re afraid of the snakes, I could give you a ride across,” he suggested.

Oh no, I don’t think so,” Frog answered quickly. “You’d eat me on the way over, or go underwater so the snakes could get me!”

“Now why would I let the snakes get you? I think they’re a terrible nuisance with all their hissing and slithering! The river would be much better off without them altogether! Anyway, if you’re so worried that I might eat you, you can ride on my tail.” The frog considered his offer. He did want to get to dry ground very badly, and there didn’t seem to be any other way across the river. He looked at the crocodile from his short, squat buggy eyes and wondered about the crocodile’s motives. But if he rode on the tail, the croc couldn’t eat him anyway. And he was right about the snakes–no self-respecting crocodile would give a meal to the snakes.

“Okay, it sounds like a good plan to me. Turn around so I can hop on your tail.” The crocodile flopped his tail into the marshy mud and let the frog climb on, then he waddled out to the river. But he couldn’t stick his tail into the water as a rudder because the frog was on it — and if he put his tail in the water, the snakes would eat the frog.

They clumsily floated downstream for a ways, until the crocodile said, “Hop onto my back so I can steer straight with my tail.” The frog moved, and the journey smoothed out. From where he was sitting, the frog couldn’t see much except the back of Crocodile’s head. “Why don’t you hop up on my head so you can see everything around us?” Crocodile invited.

“But I don’t want to see anything else,” the frog answered, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Oh, come now. It’s a beautiful view! Surely you don’t think that I’m going to eat you after we’re halfway across. My home is in the marsh– what would be the point of swimming across the river full of snakes if I didn’t leave you on the other bank?”

Frog was curious about what the river looked like, so he climbed on top of Crocodile’s head. The river looked almost pretty from this view. He watched dragonflies darting over the water and smiled in anticipation as he saw firm ground beyond the cattails. When the crocodile got close enough, the frog would leap off his head towards freedom. He wouldn’t give the croc a chance to eat him.

“My nose tickles,” the crocodile complained suddenly, breaking into the frog’s train of thought. “I think there might be a fly buzzing around it somewhere, or a piece of cattail fluff swept into it while I was taking you across the river.”

“I don’t see a fly,” the frog said, peering at the crocodile’s green snout. It seemed odd that anything could tickle a crocodile through its thick skin.

“Would you go check my nose for a piece of cattail fluff, then?” the crocodile begged, twitching his nose. “I’m afraid I’ll sneeze and send you flying. I don’t want to feed you to the snakes.” A tear seeped out of his eye, as if he was holding back a mighty sneeze.

The bank isn’t too far, the frog thought. And it’s the least he could do to repay him for bringing him over. So he hopped onto the crocodile’s snout and checked the nostrils.

Just a little closer, and he could jump… “I don’t see–” he began. Just then, with a terrific CHOMP! the frog disappeared. The crocodile licked his lips in satisfaction and gave a tiny half-sneeze. “Good, I feel much better already,” he smiled, and turned around to go back home.

It’s a tale with a moral; do not become complacent of danger – in a second it will suck you in. Bringing frog stories to the spiritual – how often are we complacent to the point of not recognizing that we are no longer “flirting” with danger but consumed by its draw?

One more frog story and I will stop. They say that if you put a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will leap out right away to escape the danger. if you put a frog in a kettle that is filled with water that is cool and pleasant, and then you heat the kettle until it starts boiling, the frog will not become aware of the threat until it is too late. The frog’s survival instincts are geared towards detecting sudden changes.

The same moral to the tale. Can you identify a slowly developing threat to your spiritual life? Not getting into the pot of cold water to begin with will certainly keep us out of the hot water in the end, so to speak. It’s a warning to keep us paying attention not just to the obvious threats but to more slowly developing ones.

Jeanine

At our church there is a wonderful group of folks called the Pastor’s Prayer Partnership Team.  We pray daily for our pastor.  And a group of us meet every Sunday morning to spend almost an hour in prayer for the services of the day and for our pastor.  I have the pleasure of writing a weekly newsletter to all the Partners entitled the “Partners Pages”. 

There is a person who is deeply involved in the PPPT and most of the Partners have never met her.  My sister, friend, prayer partner, and co-worker, Tammy Drew.  Tammy is the sister that my biological parents never gave me.  She is my God given sister.

She is involved weekly in the writing and distribution of the Partners Pages.  She proof-reads the pages – I can assure you the one’s she doesn’t proof have gross typing errors; there is a marked difference in the ones that go out without her keen eye first seeing them.  And then she makes sure that they make it to the Post Office every week.  Weekly, she asks about prayer requests from the week before.  Daily she prays for those of us on the team.

A few weeks ago Tammy underwent some “tests.”  Bottom line result was that she had a malignancy.  Please understand that it is very difficult for me to use the word “cancer” in the same sentance with “Tammy.”  In the time that has transpired she’s had a biopsy, and a lumpectomy.  She now has an appointment with the Oncologist.  Her surgeon was sure that he removed everything, but she will meet with the oncologist to know the next step from here.

To just about anyone else this would all be devastating. Want to see a person actng more or less crazy, let them go through what Tammy has been through in the past month.  But not Tammy.  You have to know that Tammy has tremendous faith. Almost every day she quotes to anyone within earshot, “With His stripes, I am healed.”  Now, in context of the scripture, Isaiah is talking about our spiritual broken-ness from God is healed. Many folks quote that out of context, believing it is referring only to our physical bodies.  In Tammy’s case, she knows that regardless of the earthly situation, her heavenly situation is secure because she is spiritually healed.  And she is believing that God will also heal her physical body; whether here on earth or in eternity.

Everything about Tammy’s life is in God’s hands.

What a wonderful witness she has been to folks in our department, to her extended family, and to anyone who crosses her path.  There are folks that come into contact with her daily who are in chronic pain, or facing an uncertainty. Her words for them are the same as the words she recites for herself, “With His stripes, I am healed.”

There is a lesson to be learned from Tammy. No matter the situation, those who are called by His name can rejoice! Does that faith and rejoicing mean that the Christian will face no adversity? Not in a heart-beat! Of course not! In fact it’s my observation that those who have such strong faith and publically acknowledge what God has done for them will face more adversity.  Satan would rather see a poor loser than a triumphant Christian; so he throws all kinds of snares to silence the joy.  If you are not facing adversity, chances are satan knows he has a grip on you already — no need to attack those he already has.

Are you living just on personal triumphs, or are you letting those around you know what a difference God makes in your life? I am determined to learn the lesson from Tammy.

How about you?

Jeanine

This morning coming to work I passed a church.  On their sign was “Christians Can Sing.” 

Almost 13 years ago my oldest son was in a horrible motorcycle accident.  When we arrived at the hospital the attending physician met us in the lobby with a very grim look on her face.  She tried to explain his injuries, and honestly, she held out no hope for survival (nothing was even mentioned using the word ‘recovery’).  I remember walking into the ER Trauma Room and had I not know that was my son I doubt I would have recognized him.

He was in a comma and in intensive care for 2 weeks.  They were the longest two weeks of my life.  However, I never gave up hope that in deed he would survive.  God can provide the most wonderful peace when we need it the very most.  I lived at the hospital those 2 weeks.  After the 10:00 p.m. visitation it was my routine to go home, kiss my other 2 sons - already asleep in their beds, shower and then return to the hospital.  If I could get back before 11:00 p.m. there were a couple of the nurses that would let me in for just a moment to kiss him good-night before their shift ended.

I am one who always sings in the car.  It was a 20 minute drive from the hospital to home, then 20 minutes back from home to the hospital.  I remember day after day putting a tape in the tape player and almost immediately turning it off.  There was no song in me.  On the 10th day in ICU, when I arrived home there was a small package for me.  It was a tape I had ordered weeks earlier that was places on back order.  I wasn’t even going to open it, but on my way back to the car I did.  The first song was “His Eye is on the Sparrow”.  As the chorus started I was almost angry.   Those words, “I sing because I’m happy …” Happiness was one of the feelings that had escaped me.  The second song on the tape was “When Answers Aren’t Enough, There is Jesus.”  The words stung.  Then they sank in, deeply.

While I was far from happy, I was at peace.  And it was a peace that no one else in the ICU waiting room seemed to understand.  Looking back I was reminded of the support that surrounded me.  Since Roy and I were both active in Kiwanis, there were a multitude of community friends surrounding us.  In fact one day we commented that Kevin would have to survive, God was being overwhelmed.  That day at one time there were 7 ministers, all of different denominations waiting and praying with us.  God really was good to us.  The only time I was alone were the wee hours of the night, and then I wasn’t alone - God promised that He would never leave us alone, and He was true to His word, the Comforter was with me each night.

It took a reminding me through that second song, that I did not need answers, I had Jesus.

I still could not sing in the car that night, but I could listen.  The next day I could sing!  The first and second song on that tape.  Each night I played them over and over.  And I could sing, “I sing because I’m happy.”  No I was far from happy about the situation, but I was happy because I knew “He watches over me.”

All those memories flooded me as I arrived at work this morning.  I realized that over the last 13 years, He still has never left me alone!  And each day I can sing.  Yes, Christians can sing - because we have something to sing about.  No matter the situation, how elated or desperate we are, Christians can sing.

Oh, and Kevin, it was a long haul, but he not only survived, he recovered!

“I sing because I’m happy,

I sing because I’m free

His eye is on the sparrow -

And I know He watches me.”  

Do you have something to sing about?  You can.  If you can’t sing, email me.  Let me share with you how you too can be a Christian that can sing.

The Parable of the Pup

We recently acquired another four-legged child in our household. Our male Yorkie, Toto now has a “sister” named Dorothy.  Dorothy weighs about a pound and is still getting used to 2 “parents”, another dog, and the run of the house.  Every time she sees either my husband or me she gets all excited and runs to us as if we’d been gone for days. However, she has a habit of darting under our feet and we have basically developed a shuffle when walking in the house for fear that she will dart under a foot and get stepped on.

This morning, I was walking from the bedroom to the dining room and Dorothy darted under my feet. Just as I was setting my foot down I felt her little head and immediately shifted my weight to my other foot. It really took everything in me to avoid a disaster and avert falling. Bottom line is that it scared her.

She started whining and then it was as if her whiner took over and she couldn’t stop it. I immediately grabbed her up in my arms – that seemed to only intensify the whimpers and whines.  As I consoled her and petted her tiny head she quickly calmed down and snuggled close to me. All along I was telling her, “You’re OK; you need to learn not to do that.”

Before I left for work she was scampering around and wagging her little stub of a tail. Seems she’d forgotten all about her little trauma 15 minutes earlier. As I was leaving I turned and saw her perched on the arm of the sofa. I placed her back on the floor and reminded her that she could not climb up on high things; given her size anything higher than a foot off the ground is just too high.

Driving to work it hit me. What a wonderful example of God’s love for us. Way too often we are like the little pup. Running head-strong we find ourselves in places we should not be. Maybe in an effort to do right, but we don’t first seek Godly guidance and wisdom, we get tangled up where we should not be or doing something we should not be doing. Like little Dorothy I find that in an effort to get ahead, I complicate things by rushing ahead and often get tangled up. And other times I find myself face down in grief.  When that happens, God’s mighty arms reach down and pick me up. He cradles me in His comforting arms. He brushes me off and reassures me that everything will be OK. He reminds me over and over how much He loves me.  I am admonished, “You’re OK; you need to learn not to do that.”

Getting tangled up in “things” is no more God’s plan for my life then Dorothy getting tangled in my feet was my plan for her life. And I realized that when I am not where God plans for me to be, often I not only harm myself, but I can also trip others that cross my path.  Like Dorothy, sometimes I forget what happens when I don’t stay on course, and I climb on things that are too high for me; again, places that God didn’t plan for my life. And gently, with that still small voice, He reminds me that I am His and He only wants what is the very best for me. He sets me back down and reminds me that He is there and that He is watching over me.  And I am admonished, “You’re OK; you need to learn not to do that.”

Lesson from the parable:

•  Life is short, stay focused on the right path.
• When I trip and fall I have the potential of taking others down with me.
•  God is always there, just look up and ask.
• In His arms I am safe and comforted.

It is amazing to me that people don’t hug much any more.  I grew  up in a demonstritive family and expressions of love and care where abundant.

Yesterday, I passed a student in the hall.  She looked distressed.  She looked like she was just about to cry, truth be told.  As she passed me I asked, “Are you OK?”  Of course when she truned back around to face me the flood gates opened.  I felt helpless just standing there so I asked, “What do you need.” 

Between the tears she answered, “I need a hug.”  We stepped into my office and I gave her that hug.  She just clung to me and cried.  She took a few deep breaths and was able to tell me that her car had  broken down and now there was a towing and repair bill that she couldn’t pay.  She paused then added, “Something will work out; we’ll pray.”

How often do we get too consumed with daily activities that we fail to watch for God working in the lives of others; when He gives us the opportunity to be His hands on earth and we fail to see it?  Did God cause that young lady’s car to break down and result in a bill she could not pay?  Not my God; He doesn’t work that way.  Did he cause her to be walking down the hall outside my office, cause me to sense there was a problem, cause her to know that I was accessable to her?  Absolutely!!

Back to fishing; the way I see it, my line was cast.  It was my responsibility to watch that bobbing bobber and to have my thumb on the reel to feel even the slightest tug on the line.  When we are sensitive to the needs of those around us, God will provide the opportunities to be “fishers of men.”

Today we had a Staff Development educational program for the faculty and staff of the College.  The speaker shared the story of “The Parable of the Eagle.”  

 A certain man went through the forest seeking any bird of interest he might find. He caught a young eagle, brought it home, and put it among his fowls and ducks and turkeys and gave it chicken’s food to eat even though it was an eagle, the king of birds.Five years later a naturalist came to see him and, after passing through his garden, said, “That bird is an eagle, not a chicken.”“Yes,” said the owner. “But I have trained it to be a chicken. It is no longer an eagle. It is a chicken, even though it measures fifteen feet from tip to tip of its wings.”“No,” said the owner. “It is a chicken, and it will never fly.”They agreed to test it. The naturalist picked up the eagle and said to it, “Thou dost belong to the sky and not to this earth; stretch forth thy wings and fly.” The eagle turned this way and that and then, looking down, saw the chickens eating their food, and down he jumped. The owner said, “I told you it was a chicken.”“No,” said the naturalist. “It is an eagle. Give it another chance tomorrow.” So the next day he took it to the top of the house and said, “Eagle, thou art an eagle; stretch forth thy wings and fly.” But again with the eagle, seeing the chickens feeding, jumped down and fed with them. Then the owner said, “I told you it was a chicken.”No,” asserted the naturalist. “It is an eagle, and it still has the heart of an eagle. Only give it one more chance, and I will make it fly tomorrow.” The next morning he rose early and took the eagle outside the city, away from the houses to the foot of a high mountain. The sun was just rising, gliding the top of the mountain with gold, and every crag was glistening in the joy of that beautiful morning.He picked up the eagle and said to it, “Eagle, thou art an eagle. Thou dost belong to the sky and not to this earth. Stretch forth thy wings and fly” The eagle looked around and trembled as if new life were coming to it. But it did not fly.

The naturalist then then made it look straight at the sun. Suddenly it stretched out its wings and, with the screech of an eagle, flew.

(Written by James Aggrey in the early 1920’s)

As I listened to this story I thought about this blog site.  You say, “What in the world does that have to do with becoming ‘Fishers of Men’?”

Many of us are like the young eaglet. We live a life far beneath our potential; perhaps we don’t even realize the potential we have. God made us to be His hands on this earth. But if we are too busy “scratching the ground with the chickens” we may not realize or recognize who He has made us to be.

We can sit under the ministry of the “best” pastors. We can attend classes and seminars. We can be told who we are and how we should behave and believe. But like the eagle – who did not recognize who he was made to be until he looked high and at the sun - we must look beyond ourselves to recognize who we were made to be.

We too must look beyond what we believe our limitations may be and fix our eyes on the “Son”. It is not until that moment that we recognize and believe all that God has in store for us. It is only then that we soar to heights beyond our expectations.

It is then that we are truly all that God made us to be and we can do nothing but share that with others.

Let’s get out of the barnyard, seek the face of the Son, soar to unknown heights, and build the Kingdom of God!

Jeanine

Fishing.  Fishing is easy, anyone can do it.  You need a pole, some line, a hook and some bait.  And then some patience.Fishers of men.  It’s easy.  Anyone called can do it.  You need opportunity and a message to share.  And then some patience.  I think we make it too difficult.  We want to second guess God on who He wants us to witness to and decide if they are “worthy” of God or not. Truth — none of us are worthy.  But He calls us to fish anyway. We had a lot (and I mean a lot) of rain in southwest Georgia during the last month.  Our fishpond, which has been low for years, is now out of its banks.  I’m talking about 5 feet out of its banks.  Lots of water! Used to be that most Christians knew lots of Christians and only few who did not know God.  But times are changed.  On the way to church we pass more folks not on their way to Church and those who are.  That’s a lot of “fish” in the water that has flowed outside the banks.  The guy walking down the street, eyes downcast; children playing in a front yard; the man mowing his lawn; the woman on her way to buy groceries …..I know that my fish pond is full of fish.  Cast a line and give it a bit of time, and sure enough there is a fish on the other end.  Right now, to get to my fish pond requires effort.  The ground in soggy and muddy and I can’t even see the fish - they are hugging he bottom of the pond.  In my fish pond there are Chinese catfish.  They are about the ugliest fish I have ever seen.  The head looks like a catfish.  But the body is molted and ugly.  But they are some of the sweetest catfish you will ever taste.  I remember, shortly after we moved here, one of my boys caught one.  My first response was to throw it back and to find out what was wrong with our fish.  But instead, Gregory cleaned the fish.  Cleaning a cat fish is not an easy job.  You have to literally skin the fish.  But what was left once the fish was cleaned made it more than worth the effort. My world is full of ponds where I can fish for men and women.  Cast a line (God will provide the opportunity) and there will be someone on the other end that God will direct you to.  It requires effort.  The world is dirty and some of our opportunities are outside our comfort zone.  Often it seems those we are commissioned to catch are bottom huggers and they rarely surface within easy grasp.   The men and women we are commissioned to catch may not look like us.  To us they may be ugly.  But we are to be fishers of men anyway.  You see, God never requires us to clean up the folks that we fish for.  He says, “You catch ‘em; I’ll clean ‘em.”  And he does.  He cleans them whiter than snow.  He makes them sweeter than we can ever imagine.   But He can’t clean them unless we are willing to catch them.Am I willing to cast my net on the other side?  Am I willing to catch even the ugly ones?  Am I willing to be used of God? Am I willing to go fishing?  How about you? Jesus told them, “I’ll make you fishers of men;” Jesus tells us, “I’ll make you fishers of men.” Jeanine