Jacob's Great Adventure

Last night my wife and I watched our grandsons, Jake, who is four, and Jack, who is almost seven months. As with most kids those ages, they can be quite a handful, especially Jake, whose energy level is pretty much without limits. We live in a two bedroom apartment, so it is pretty tight quarters for an active four year old. Since Nan needed to give Jack a bath, I decided to take Jake on a walk around the grounds of our apartment complex to see if I could help burn off some of that energy and make the rest of the evening a little less hectic.

The walk turned into quite an adventure as Jake immediately took the self-proclaimed role of "leader." It turned out that this was for the best, since I didn’t have an “imaginary, invisible map” like he did. Throughout the adventure he would take out the map, unfold it, and tell me what the map said about which way we should go.

“The map says we have to follow the sidewalk this way!“

The map took us on a journey that included the discovery of gold! It was right where the map said that it was, under the “X” on the ground. All we had to do was dig it up with our imaginary shovels. What a wonderful discovery in these hard economic times!

We also spotted a stray cat that “needed to be rescued,” but was to skittish to allow us to get too close, a giant inflatable snowman, a manager scene missing the baby Jesus, and Christmas lights. After passing by some Christmas lights, Jake spotted more up ahead and said,

“How convenient, more Christmas light up there!”

After a very extensive exploration of the entire complex, traveling most of it more than once, Jake announced,

“The map says we’re lost!”

He then turned to me and with all to melodrama he could muster cried out,

“Just look at the mess you’ve gotten me into!”

All I could do was laugh.

So reflecting on the adventure of last night, got me to thinking about how we, "only being human," often want to blame others for the bad decisions that we make. And how sometimes we even want to blame God, when He was there all along trying to warn us about the trouble ahead, if we had only taken the time to listen.

It is that feeling down on the inside of you that says, “If you do that it isn’t going to turn out good.” But too often we just push right past it and do what we want to do at the time. Or sometimes we just aren’t listening for it at all. And we inevitably find ourselves stuck with the consequences.

The Bible reminds us how to listen for God.

“Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.”

I Kings 19: 11-12 (NKJ)

So when all else fails, as it is likely to do, LISTEN! He will speak to you in that "still small voice."

(Author’s note: after all was said and done, we did find our way back home!)

Having A Birthday At Christmas

I have a friend who has a birthday on December 25th, and I was thinking about what a rip-off that is to celebrate your birthday at that time of the year. Who has time to think about your birthday when so much other stuff is going on.

It makes me wonder how he feels, taking second place to all the "hustle and bustle" and the "dashing through the snow" to get the "best deals" at the "door-buster specials" during the "holiday sale" for "everyone on your Christmas list" at "Your Place for the Holidays."

I wonder if he resents "Santa's Big Scene," at the mall or the "Christmas Parade" in every town around. And I wonder how he feels about "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire," and "The Grinch" stealing all the attention away from his birthday.

But hopefully this year his family will at least remember to try to make it about him and he won't be entirely left out . . . just maybe.

So may I just say to him,

"Happy Birthday, Jesus! You are the only Christmas gift I really need!"



"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"
--Luke 2: 8-14 (KJV)

Merry Christmas!

November Thanks

I think November must surely be my very favorite month of the year. I enjoy the cooler weather moving in after another of Florida’s long, hot, humid summers finally gives up. I like the fact that November means not breaking into a sweat first thing in the morning simply from walking out of my front door and to my car!

The change somehow energizes me, puts a bounce in my step, gives me a little get up and get ’em in my get-a-long! But even more than the change in the weather, I enjoy that Thanksgiving happens in November.

Thanksgiving is a wonderful time of the year for me. I guess that I like it so much because it is a little less commercialized than some of the other big holidays like Christmas, Easter, or even Halloween. It is as if the giant commercial machine didn’t have time to mess with Thanksgiving, because it had to get rolling on to Christmas if it was going to fully capitalize on the money making potential of December’s biggest holiday.

And, that’s just fine with me! Leave Thanksgiving alone!

I like that my memories of Thanksgivings past are filled with the warmth and love of family and good friends. Of days that overflowed with Mom’s good cooking, and laughter, and peace.

I like that Thanksgiving comes more towards the end of the month. It gives me plenty of time to think about what I am thankful for.

This year, like every year, I have much to be thankful for--even though it has been a very hard year. In fact, it has been one of the tougher years of my life. And the tough season hasn’t past yet. But it will pass. And I am so grateful, because through all that has happened, I have loved and I have been loved beyond measure!

So this month, my wish for all of you is that you might know the boundless love of you creator. And be forever thankful in every situation, trusting in Him, resting in His love for you.


"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give thanks to You forever."
--Psalm 30: 11-12 (NKJ)

Sometimes Just a Little More Noticeable

Have you ever thought about how everything around us is in a constant state of change? Of course, that’s obvious!

But have you noticed how there are certain defining moments in time that abruptly bring into focus just how much things have changed? Yes, there are certain points in time when how much has changed is just a little more noticeable!

Last night was such a moment. Last night our nation elected the first African-American to the Presidency of the United States. An amazing change by itself. But possibly even more noticeable, Americans elected a man who has promised to take our nation in a much different direction.

When the results of the election were announced, some were overwhelmed with excitement and anticipation for the promise of change. Others were gravely disheartened by the prospect of the change that this election decision would bring.

Some were uncertain about the change, some feared the change, and some really didn’t care what this new President-elect would bring. They were just glad that all the political advertising that was interrupting their television watching had come to an end!

Some knew it was going to be for the best. Others knew it was going to be for the worst. But regardless of where you stand on the issues, I think that you know that we are in for some changes--some “noticeable” changes. Still one thing hasn’t changed. And that is our deep need for true healing in our nation.

There is too much that divides us in our country. There is an abundance of dishonesty, and lack of integrity, and yes, wickedness. How sad that so many in our country have turned their back on God and failed to honor Him. How frightening to think that we have not held our Creator in reverential fear!

The Bible reminds us of God’s promise:

“. . . if My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14 (NKJ)

It is time to stand up for what is right and against that which is wrong. We truly do live in the best country in the world, but we need to pray that it remains that! So, I’m asking you to pray for our nation. Please pray!

I would also encourage you to pray for our new President (and all of our leaders) that God Himself would touch his heart, and guide his decisions, trusting that what the Bible teaches us is true:

“The king’s heart is in the hand of the LORD,
Like the rivers of water;
He turns it wherever He wishes.” Proverbs 21:1 (NKJ)

May God bless you and God bless America!

Back In The Saddle Again

One of the richest experiences I had growing up was living on the family’s four acre farm. While it was maybe only two years of my life, I have been blessed with a treasure of memories from that time when I was about seven or eight years old.

One of the new experiences for us on the farm was the opportunity to raise farm animals. As I recall, we had the usual assortment including a cow, chickens, turkeys, a lamb, cats, and an extremely protective farm dog. And what farm would be complete without a horse. Unfortunately, a horse wasn’t within the budget.

I mean cows give milk, chickens can provide you eggs (or sometimes fried chicken), turkeys are great at Thanksgiving and Christmas, a lamb (a 4-H project for my brother Ken) teaches responsibility and then gets sold, cats help keep the rodents down, and a good protective dog is a wealth of security on a farm. A horse on a place as small as ours would only be expensive entertainment.

But then, as things worked out, a Methodist minister in the small Colorado town near our farm needed a place to keep his horse and burro. (For those of you who might not be familiar with burros, they are best described as small donkeys.) The horse was a pregnant Appaloosa mare named “Chili”. The burro was named "Taterbug" and was a good source of company for Chili, and amusement for us as kids.

Chili was a gentle enough horse and we were thrilled to have the opportunity to ride her (although my sister, Jean might remember her a little differently). When I recently asked my dad about how long we had the horse, Dad simply replied, “Long enough for her to throw Jean off and break her arm.” I had forgotten about that, but I hadn’t forgotten being thrown off myself.

Now, this is the way that I remember it, but at my age, memories can be funny things, sometimes. I had remembered it as yet another of the many misadventures that my older brother, Ken, got me into. But my younger brother remembered it as being him that I was with. Regardless, I am sure I was there.

Usually, whenever we rode Chili, the fastest she was willing to take us was a bone-jarring trot. On this particular day, Ken convinced me to ride “double” with him, putting me just behind the saddle hanging onto his waist. The plan was that we were going to get her to gallop--a faster and much smoother ride. On cue, we both began to kick her sides and whoop and hollar encouraging her onward. Chili started out trotting, but we were relentless in pushing her for more.

Then about the time one of us exclaimed, “She galloping!” The other shouted, “No! She’s BUCKING!” And with that, it was over. Both of us found ourselves quickly dispatched into the weeds. Neither one of us suffered major injuries, other than to our pride, and we hurried to the house for comfort from Mom. I know that I was crying and I suspect Ken was too, but I was being very open about it, while Ken was probably trying to keep it in.

Mom checked to make sure we weren’t hurt, then said, “Well, the best thing you can do is go right back out there and get back on her.” Ken disappeared. I tried to get myself back together and quit crying. I was in shock! Go back out there? What, go back out there and see if I can really get hurt this time!?!

Nevertheless, I knew that she was right and that I needed to face my fear. So after several more minutes and a few more tears, I went back out. Chili was in the pasture grazing. I approached her ever so slowly--probably talking softly to her saying something like, “Please don’t kill me!”--and got a hold on her reins. She had calmed down more than I had and allowed me to lead her over to the haystack. I managed to climb up onto the bales of hay and ever so carefully ease myself down onto the saddle.

Then . . . well . . . then nothing. She stood still and I sat still. I made no demands of her--not even the hint of a request. I just sat. I didn’t stay on long, but it was long enough to no longer feel so afraid.

I had fulfilled the instruction that Mom had given me to the letter. (And not one letter more!) I had faced my fear! I was going to live to see another day! Not only that, but I had “bested” my older brother, who remained “disappeared.” It was a good feeling. It was richly satisfying. I had not gone down in defeat--although I did opt for a negotiated truce with Chili and released my dreams of galloping on a pregnant mare!

So, how many of us have fears today that we need to face? I just thought I would try to encourage you to face your fears, and remember as Moses said to Joshua:

“. . . the LORD, He is the One who goes before you. He will be with you, He will not leave you nor forsake you; do not fear nor be dismayed.” Deuteronomy 31:8



Author's Note: Now, in the interest of full disclosure, it could very well be that Ken was not the one that got me into the situation, but rather my younger brother, John, who made the infamous ride with me. But it reads better the other way and leaves me with a little less responsibility for the results when I portray myself as the younger impressionable brother! So I hope you can forgive me (if in fact it was my younger brother) for re-writing history to suit my purposes. After all, I'm not running for office here! I'm just trying to tell a story!

Also of note is that Chili lived through the ordeal as well, and went on to give birth to her colt on one of the coldest days of the year, through a barbed-wire fence! Yep, when she had fully delivered the colt, she was on one side of the fence and the colt was on the other. Other than a few scratches, both were fine.

Starting Out Strong . . . Once Again.

Here we are approaching the end of yet another month. October is nearly gone and I have done less writing on my blog, than in any other month since I started it. I am saddened by that fact and this is why.

When I first started my blog, I looked at many other blogs for ideas. What I found time after time was that many people started out strong, but didn’t last long. I vowed that it wouldn’t happen to me. I was determined to write every week, and maybe even two or three times a week. I started out strong.

What happened? Interference. Like doing anything that is worthwhile, there were opposing forces trying to make sure that I was not able to do what I set out to do. Sometimes it was just busyness, sometimes it was personal conflicts, sometimes it was challenges at work, sometimes it was impending national issues or even global problems that pulled at my attention. Mostly, I just didn’t know what to write because I hadn't taken the time to get quiet and listen. It is all too easy to just get a little overwhelmed at times.

“ ‘So, now what? Whatcha-gonna-do-now?’ ” --to borrow a quote from my second posting.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I am going to do. I am going to step out in FAITH. . . and write.”--once again.

And maybe I won’t have any earth shattering revelation to share with you this time and I may not even have something big for you the next time that I write. But I will continue to write because I know that this is what I’m supposed to do. I just have to get up and take another run at it.

I mean who says you can’t start out strong more than once?

Losing Sight of What's in Your Toy Box

An associate from work reminded me of something that I had not thought of recently. As part of my weekly routine, I print and distribute full work schedules to each individual employee in addition to the “store copy“ of the schedule which gets posted in the backroom of our store. I think of these individual copies as “refrigerator copies,” because my intent is for each associate to have a copy at home to refer to since their work schedules vary from week to week.

Not only do the copies provide them with a view of their own schedule, it also allows them to see everyone’s schedule for the week. This becomes very useful when an associate needs to make an unexpected change after the schedule has been posted, as sometimes happens. Typically, my associates will take the initiative to work out a “fix” between themselves, to insure that the schedule is covered, by seeing who can fill in for them. Once they have it worked out, they then approach me for approval of the plan. (In case you didn’t recognize it, that’s called Teamwork! And, yes, I am very blessed to have a wonderful team of individuals working with me!)

The other day while I was distributing next week’s schedule, one of my associates said that she didn’t need her schedule, because her schedule doesn’t change very much from one week to the next. Since I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to have a little fun, I pretended to be highly offended and even went as far as to white-out her name on her copy and make it the “store copy.” Upon realizing what I was doing she changed her mind and began to plead with me that she needed her copy so she could see who she was working with. I assured her it was too late now, and threw in a little mocking of her saying that she didn’t need her schedule. She became so desperate to have a copy that when I wasn’t looking, she took my own copy, crossed out my name and put her name on it!

Now, understand that this was all done in fun. But it did cause me to consider how often we take for granted things that we have, until we see them being taken away from us. We are just like a little kid, who’s mom is going through his toy box getting rid of long forgotten toys. He stands there looking at her in disbelief because he can’t believe that his mom would be asking him to part with such a treasured item! How quickly we lose sight of how blessed we are until those blessings are being pulled from us.

So, today, do your best to not take for granted that you are loved, sheltered, fed and clothed. Or that you live in a country where you get to decided much of your path, rather than having it decided for you. And just take some time to do an inventory of what you do have, rather than always looking at what you do not have. I’m sure you’ll come away feeling very blessed. I know I do, already!

Is Anyone Listening?

Has anyone else noticed that there is a lot going on in our country, as well as in the world today? (I know, I know, “Just a slight understatement there, Robert!”) There is the economic crisis, the political turmoil, the threats of terrorism, and on and on it goes. There is so much yet to be resolved. And it seems at times, there is so little progress towards resolution.

I find myself very challenged by all of this. The challenge for me is how to stay informed (as a good citizen should be) without becoming overwhelmed by all of it. And the even bigger challenge for me is how to sort through all the noise that people are making on all sides of the issues, so I can find what I believe to be the paths that we should take to try to solve our problems, and then find a way to support those directions.

So I just wanted to share an observation. In watching opposing sides on issues “discuss” their viewpoints, I am struck by how little listening is going on. All too often, they seem to spend all of their time talking over each other, in ever increasing volume levels, with ever increasing anger, until no one can pick out much of anything from what is being said.

We all have been guilty of not listening. I’m reminded of how many times each day that instead of really listening to what someone is saying, I am thinking about what I am going to say next. As a result, I set myself up to miss out on so much by not focusing on what is being said by others.

One thing that I discovered when I was growing up came out of the fact that I was shy and not willing to speak out much in my classes in school. I would sit and listen to all that was being said in discussions about a particular topic. Time and again I would realize something that others were missing simply because they were so focussed on what they were saying, that they forgot to listen to each other. All I did was piece together parts of what was being said and then muster up the courage to speak. As a result, I would look a whole lot more intelligent than I really was.

So this is what I want to share with you. As I have been listening to those debating their opposing viewpoints, I have been reminded again and again where the Bible gives us the following simple instruction that I think would benefit us all:

"So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God." James 1:19-20 (NKJ)

My wish for each of you this day is that you might have a day full of listening and peace.

My Love For You, My Precious Wife

A soft, warm thought of you caresses my mind and brings a quiet smile to my heart. A swell of deep felt emotion builds until it overwhelms me as I long to be near you and hold you in my arms. How I want you to know my love for you!

My love for you is relentless! My love for you is forever unconditional! My love for you has no end! I willingly give you my life!

How I long to sustain you in my love! How I long to protect you in my love! How I wish you could know my love in all its fullness, and rest there, secure, at peace, in my love, for all of your days.

Come away with me, my love, to that place where our two loves meet as one. Where nothing can stand against us! Where joy overflows! Where sweet victory is ours!

Come away with me, my love, to that wondrous place of knowing without speaking. And remain there, with me, forever.


by Robert A. McArthur

A Tale of Two Teachers (part 2)

Of all of the teachers that I have had over the years, there are only a handful that I remember and even those I don’t remember very well. Some I remember fondly, others I could stand to forget. Mostly, I remember the phrases that they would repeat over and over again. “Use your time wisely,” one teacher would say in a nasally tone, at an elevated volume to speak over the noise of a class that was obviously not doing so. Or, “I’m a busy man!” from a hyperactive little man who was very caught up in his own importance and who wore his pants too high for his 97 pound frame. When this same man would vigorously erase the chalk board with his right hand, his left hand would work the air just as hard.

Others I remember for a particular moment in time, like the time our school was experiencing some pretty serious racial tensions and the school had gone on “lock down”.

“Mr. Jones, to the office, please. MISTER JONES!”

That was the signal for teachers to lock the doors and keep all of their students in the classrooms. It was supposed to keep the students from panicking, but everyone knew their was no “Mr. Jones.” So, naturally, everyone ran to the windows to get a look at what was going on. The teacher tried in vain to get us away from the windows and regain control of her classroom. She even suggested that we sing a song together. And so she started with the only song that came to her mind, “Happy Birthday.” No one joined in. I just looked at her in disbelief. As I recall, she was the only one panicked by what was happening. Everyone else just seemed curious. I wish now that I had tried to offer her some comfort.

But this is supposed to be a tale of two teachers, so please excuse the little side journey. The second teacher I wanted to tell you about was my English teacher in my senior year of high school. Whenever I think about the teachers that I have had, she is usually the first one to come to mind. I owe her a great debt of gratitude.

I don’t even remember much about her, but these things I do remember. She was kind. She smiled. She acted like she liked her students. She came off as a little out of touch with the present day, but in a wholesome sort of way. Most of all, I remember her as an encourager, to all of her students.

It was a time in my life that I was trying to build up my self-confidence. And she was trying to help me to find my gifts and reach my potential. It was something a slightly under performing student like myself really needed.

I remember a particular project that she had us do. My subject had something to do with different forms of poetry. We were to present our projects in front of the class, but also in front of a video camera. I was very nervous and can only imagine that it showed. I was reading some of the examples that I had written to illustrate my points. As I was finishing up, she gently interrupted me and encouraged me to share a few more of the examples I had written.

When the taping was done and the camera was off she commented on my work. She didn’t tell me I slouched or that I needed to take my hands out of my pockets. She didn’t tell me I needed to speak louder. She didn’t mention that I was shaking like a leaf or that I stumbled all over myself or that there was no flow to my presentation.

Instead, she smiled as she commented on how well she liked my examples. Then she said, “You command such a presence when you are up there.” I’m not sure I understood what she meant at the time, but I do know it felt good. It felt good because I knew that she saw beyond the obvious and saw the possibilities.

That is how I believe God sees us. And maybe--just maybe--because He can see beyond the obvious, it makes us a little more lovable.

Maybe if we could see others as God sees them, we might find them a little more lovable, too.

A Tale of Two Teachers (part 1)

She was a bitter, tired, frustrated, mean-spirited old woman who had long since lost any love of teaching that she had ever had, and was left hanging on to the only thing she knew to do to sustain herself, until she could finally, mercifully, retire. Looking back, I wonder what horrible life experiences she had that brought her to that place, back in the early 1970’s. What was her heartbreaking story? What could have hurt her so badly that this was the best she had to offer? But back then, I could have cared less. When I wasn’t busy fearing her or avoiding her, I just despised her.

She taught Algebra in the high school I attended. It was well known that she was the one algebra teacher that no one wanted to get. So when I got my schedule that year, I knew that I was in trouble. I was a decent student (though a little under-performing) and usually made A’s and B’s. I wasn’t used to failing. She was, in her own twisted way, determined to make sure that I didn’t fail, and thus sealed my fate. I failed her class miserably.

I have never had a person humiliate me in front of my peers like she did. She seemed to delight in having the ones of us who weren’t “getting it” work problems in front of the class on the chalk board. If we didn’t understand how to work the equation, she would leave us standing there, relentlessly chiding us for not seeing the obvious solution, until the bell finally rang and she would be forced to set us free. I already had very low self-confidence, and as skinny, overly tall, awkward teenager, I just froze it those situations, unable to focus on solving the problem for feeling ashamed and embarrassed by being singled out and put on display.

There were many other things that she did to make sure I felt like a total idiot, but I think that you can get the idea without me going into further detail. As a result of that experience, I found myself avoiding anything that had to do with math. I took the easiest math courses that I could get away with in college. I already knew that algebra was out of the question. I wasn’t going to set myself up to fail, and she had thoroughly convinced me that I would.

Many years later, I decided to pursue some additional schooling at the community college where I live. I was told I would have to take algebra. I started the class with a great deal of anxiety, but soon discovered that I understood the material and actually found it fairly easy. I passed with an “A”.

Here’s my thought in looking back at all this. A lot of who we are is determined by how we deal with what life brings us. We have all heard great stories of how a person has overcome terrible experiences and done great things in spite of them. Wouldn’t it be great if it always worked that way for everyone? It is here where I see the mercy of God at work.

My real concern is for the people who don’t take responsibility for how they treat others, not realizing--or maybe not caring--that in their words and actions is the power create or destroy. Even more frightening is when a person knows that they are cruel, and feels that because they are older, or because of some position of authority they have, they have a right to be that way and don’t have to take responsibility for it. No, we should always hold ourselves accountable for what we say and how we act.

Most of us would never set out to drive a knife into someone’s heart, but to many of us do so by our words alone. The Bible tells us,

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue . . .” Proverbs 18:21a (NKJ)

You Are My Song

You are my hope, when hope is nearly gone.
You are my strength, when I’m no longer strong.
You are my joy and my peace.
Lord, You’re every little thing
That I might need
To make it through
Just one more day.

You are the love,
My heart is aching for.
You are my friend,
When friends are friends no more.
You know my every need,
Lord, You look after me
Like no one else,
Has ever done,
Will ever do.
Your love is true.

And just to know the love You have for me
Is deeper than the sea,
And that You hold me in the palm
Of Your own hand.
To think that You the God of all there is,
And all that there will be,
Would choose to die,
For such a wretched mess as me.

You are my hope, when hope is nearly gone.
You are my strength, when I’m no longer strong.
You are my joy and my peace.
Lord, You’re every little thing
That I might need
To make it through
Just one more day.
You are the way.

And now I know that it is You that lives
And moves inside of me.
And that Your Spirit’s here to guide me
On my way.
A symphony of sights and sounds surround
And fill my heart with love,
With songs of love
Sent from above
For each new day.

You are the Word, given unto me.
You are the Truth, You came to set me free.
You are my Lord and my King.
I need the grace that you bring
Into my life,
Into my heart,
Into my soul.
You are my all!

The melody
That lives in me
You are my Song!


(song lyrics by Robert A. McArthur)

Blazin' a Trail for Greater Things to Come

All this looking back that I’ve been doing lately has got me to thinking about how much of my life has been spent blazin’ a trail for those coming behind me. So, since you asked, let me share with you a few examples to illustrate my point. These examples relate to my younger brother and my two sons. After all, they are the ones that followed after me.

In junior high school, I took on a paper route. (This was back in the olden days when boys delivered papers in the afternoons after school.) The route was in some disarray when I took it over, but I managed to get it straightened out and was able to “grow” the route to the point that it had to be divided because it was getting too large. During that time I was honored by being selected, Paperboy of the Month. I even got my picture in the paper along with a nice write up about me.

Later, when I decided to go onto other things, my younger brother, John took over the route. He was also selected as Paperboy of the Month, but additionally was selected as Paperboy of the Year, clearly taking advantage of the trail that I had blazed for him and having learned everything that he knew from me.

Later, in high school, I decided to try out for the high school musical, “Lil’ Abner.” It was a big move for me as I was a very shy and awkward teenager. But I was determined to push past those insecurities and as a result, I landed a part. And it wasn’t just any part, it was a speaking part--okay, just one line. But I did get to do a song and dance routine with three other kids--and my dance partner was none other than the Homecoming Queen!

Following my example, my brother auditioned for and won the lead role in the high school production of, “Carousel,” and as a result, became famous, and the rest is history. Would this … could this have possibly happened had I not been there first, laying the foundation?! I think not!

And so the pattern continues with my sons Chris and Mike. As you may have already read in my last post, one of the first businesses my brother and I had was a marginally successful Kool-aid stand.

Now while Chris and Mike’s first business venture was not quite as successful …something about trying to sell drawings that they had done door-to-door … they did hit pay dirt when they built Black & Brew Coffee House and Bistro from the ground up. And where do you think they gained their insight and business savvy from? One can only assume the obvious.

I would like to say my “trail blazin’” has always been positive, but that simply is not the case. After all I did shoot my brother, John, with a bow and arrow, (see my post: The Deadly Weapon). And unfortunately, following my lead, Mike shot Chris with a bow and arrow. For the full story on that episode--at least from the victim’s perspective--click the following link:

http://thoughtcombustion.blogspot.com/2008/08/deadly-weapon-full-circle.html

But setting that misfortune aside, here’s my point. Don’t ever think that what you are doing is small or insignificant, you may only be blazin’ a trail for greater things to come. At least, that’s how it looks from here!

More Than a Cheerleader

I’ve been thinking lately about what a wonderful thing it is to have someone believe in you--believe in your talents and abilities, your dreams, your potential. Many a mother and dad has said something like, “Son, you can be anything that you want to be.” But not all parents go much beyond cheering their child on with,

“You can do it, Yes you can, If you can’t do it, Nobody can!”

My mom was (and still is) an excellent cheerleader for her children, but she was much more than just that as we were growing up. My mom was a great believer in getting involved in what her kids wanted to do, so that they could more fully explore their potential and learn from their experiences.

It was the mid-1960’s. In our family of four siblings there were three groups: Ken (the oldest son), Jean (the only girl), and the little boys (myself and my younger brother, John). John and I were separated in age by two years, just like each of the siblings, but we were grouped together--shared the same room, played together, fought together and grew up together. In fact, when we fought with each other, one of the most effective punishments that my parents could give us was to separate us--we couldn’t stand being apart.

It was during this time that John and I made one of our first attempts to go into business for ourselves when we decided to start a Kool-aid stand. Mom agreed to not only let us, but agreed to be our wholesale supplier. She figured out what it would cost to make the Kool-aid and charged us for the materials (at her cost or below I’m sure, and she probably threw in the first half gallon for free to get us started).

As part of our marketing effort, John and I came up with a catchy jingle we could sing as potential customers came into range. We even enlisted the assistance of a neighborhood girl. We convinced her to ride her bike around the block singing our jingle for free:

“Kool-aid, Kool-aid taste great,
Get it here at 208 . . . Meeker Street, that is!”

Undaunted by a less than enthusiastic response from the community--sales were slow--before long we were looking into expanding our menu. We negotiated with our supplier, M.O.M., and were able to add cupcakes to our menu, at a minimal expense to ourselves. As John reminded me in a recent conversation, Mom only charged us for the cost of materials and threw in the cost of production (her labor, equipment costs, cost for electricity) for free.

It was great working with such a supportive supplier who was so willing to help us meet the changing needs of our expanding market. For example, one day we had a gentleman come by the stand. We asked if he would like to purchase some Kool-aid. He said that he really didn’t want any Kool-aid, but he would take a hamburger if we had one. After a quick negotiation with Mom, we produced a hamburger for the man. Another sale saved by the quick response of our supplier!

As you can see, things did get a little out of hand, but Mom was tireless in her support, helping us to succeed, or at least, helping us to learn while trying. I don’t know how many days this enterprise went on, but it did make a lasting impression on both John and myself. Especially how Mom showed us that supporting someone’s dream often involves a little more than just cheering them on. It means getting involved to help make it happen. But that was the type of mother we had growing up and that’s the type of person she is to this day.

So, of course, I would relate that to how God is always there pulling for us to succeed. And not only that, but He supplies all of our needs. What a blessing to know a God who is for us and not against us!

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Romans 31:8 (NKJ)

The Deadly Weapon

A little over forty years have passed since the time I shot my brother, John, but that event is etched forever in my memory. I was just a kid, probably nine or ten years old at the time. I had been given a bow and arrow set for a birthday, or perhaps, as a Christmas gift. It was a simple wooden bow and the arrows were metal-tipped target arrows.

I can still remember stringing the bow using my legs to hold one end of the bow and bending the bow enough to slip the loop at the end of the string over the other end. It wasn’t hard to do if you knew the technique. And I was quite skilled at it.

I also remember the sensation of drawing an arrow along the bow and releasing it to fly, especially when the bow string contacted the tender meat of the inside of my forearm. My arm would become bright red after repeated twanging from the bow string. Still, I loved shooting arrows.

I especially liked shooting them nearly straight into the air. On more than one occasion I would lose sight of an arrow and hold my breath until I heard it come down, praying all the while that it wouldn’t come down on top of me! One reason I liked shooting arrows in the air was that there was less chance of losing an arrow that way. After all, though it was a simple bow, it could shoot an arrow quite a distance--at least as far as a boy my age was concerned. I only had two or three arrows and they would have been expensive to replace given my “small change” allowance.

The only thing I can remember trying to kill with my bow were prairie dogs--rabbit-sized rodents which were common enough creatures in Southwestern Colorado. I never did. I never even hit one. In fact, I was always thankful when I missed. Partly because I don’t think I really wanted to kill anything, and mostly because I was afraid I would lose my arrow if I hit one and they managed to retreat into their burrow, dragging my arrow with them.

I’m quite sure that I was well instructed in bow safety by my parents (though I don’t remember it), because I knew not to ever allow a person to be standing in front of me when I shot it, even if they weren’t in the particular direction that I was shooting. And I would only string the bow when I was using it and was well aware that it was an outside toy.

That brings us to that fateful day. My brother John and I were playing together as we always did, only this day we were playing with my “outside toy” inside. Cowboys and Indians was the game and as you have already figured out, I’m sure, I was the Indian.

My first error in judgment was that I had strung the bow inside the house. The second was that I had slipped the nock of an arrow unto the string. The third was that I had pointed the arrow at someone in front of me. The fourth was that I had pulled the arrow-loaded string back. And the fifth….

Accidents happen, but this was not an accident. No, I shot my brother on purpose.

Now, that being said, I never intended to kill him or even hurt him in any way for that matter. I only did it to bring a little realism to our game. I had only pulled the string back ever so slightly and didn’t halfway expect the arrow to reach him at all. It did, though.

It was a glancing blow to the chin. A slight cut. A little blood. And a healthy scream from John, probably more out of surprise than hurt. You’d have thought the arrow had gone completely through him to hear him carry on. I dropped the bow and immediately ran to his aid. (Well, actually, it was my intent to try to shut him up and give myself a chance to do some damage control before Mom and Dad arrived on the scene to investigate.) I pleaded with him not to cry, that it was just a scratch, that he was fine, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

Dad rushed into the room and I just as quickly backed away. He took a look at the injury, looked around the room and easily surmised what had transpired. Next he looked at me, eye to eye, for several seconds, and without a saying a single word, he let me know how disappointed he was with me. He never spoke to me about it, he didn‘t have to. The magnitude of what I had done was crystal clear to me. The thoughts of how much worse my brother’s injury could have been flooded my mind and emotions.

I braced myself for punishment that never came. My father bent over picked up the bow and the arrows and placed them on his work bench. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t say that I couldn’t ever play with them again. He didn’t say I was on restrictions for a month. He didn’t spank me. Nothing.

But the bow and arrows sat there on his work bench for a very long time before I decided that it was okay to use them again. I didn’t ask permission. Somehow, there was an understanding that when I felt that I had punished myself enough, I would know that it would be acceptable to retake possession of them.

I am so thankful that the injuries as a result of my carelessness weren’t more life changing for my brother John--though John might tell you he has been “terribly emotionally scarred by the failed attempt on his life by his own brother.” But seriously, in many cases things like this turn out much worse.

I am also thankful for the restraint and wisdom that Dad showed. He knew that if he spoke to me that it would be in anger and he didn‘t want to lose control. He didn’t feel it was necessary to tell me every little thing I had done wrong that day, though I'm sure he had quite a list. He knew that I knew already, and left me to me to deal with it. And I did, and in doing so learned many lessons that I still carry with me to this day.

A Little Bit Of Heaven

This is my newest grand-daughter, Heaven. I've yet to meet her in person, but my wife recently met her for the first time. When I asked Nan about her, she only gave me a two word description of her: "She's perfect."

I'm thankful for the pictures, because if I didn't have them I would have thought that she had exaggerated, just a little!

Heaven basically has her whole life ahead of her. Yet, before she was born there were things in place, and in the short time she has been alive there are things that have happened, that have forever determined certain parts of the course of her life. Still, in the end, it will be up to her to become who she really is, by how she deals with whatever life brings to her.

So as I contemplate what lies ahead for Heaven, I am comforted to know that God has already made provision for everything that she will ever need. All she has to do is trust Him.

And God has already seen to it that she has someone to show her how to do it, by her example of faith--her mother.

Seeing Clearly, Looking Back

My last post to my blog entitled, From My Heart To My Mouth, got me to thinking about the value of looking back and reflecting on memories of times now passed. Certainly, as a Christian, I am to live in the present with a hopeful eye towards the future. And I should not try to live in the past or allow the past to hinder me from being everything that I am called to be in the “right here, right now.” Still, within each of our own pasts there are so many valuable lessons to learn that, if remembered, would help us with our present and our future.

For me it is very comforting to look back at my life and see how God has been faithful to see me through every single thing that I have faced in my life. Seeing this, and knowing what the Bible tells me about God, empowers me for the things that lie ahead of me. So I can’t help but feel that memories are meant to help us deal with the “right here, right now.”

Apparently, God felt that it was important also. He so wanted the children of Israel to look back and remember how he moved on their behalf, that when they finally crossed over the Jordan River and entered the Promised Land, He told Joshua to have them build a memorial of twelve stones from the river. He did it so that when their children asked about the stones they could tell them of how God had moved for them, and remember it for themselves all over again (See Joshua, Chapters 3 and 4).

Sometimes, at the time that we are going through trials, we might lose sight of how God is moving on our behalf. We might even feel that He has abandoned us, though He has promised to never leave us (See Hebrews 13:5).

I have found, for me, that the steadfast hand of God at work on my behalf is much easier seen, when I look back at the path I have traveled to get to where I am today. It is then that I can truly see that He was with me all the way.

From My Heart To My Mouth

The other day I was remembering a time many years ago and many miles away from where I now call home. I was 11 or 12 years old at the time. Life was pretty good as I remember it. My dad was the minister of the Presbyterian church in the small town of Delta, Colorado. We lived a few blocks from the church in a home that was provided for us by the church. It was a mansion, in my eyes, with a large yard and a very tall cottonwood tree off from the back corner of the house.

I have many fond memories of that place, but my favorite memories are all centered around that cottonwood tree. My younger brother, John, and I spent many days climbing and playing in the tree with friends. I can still remember a place in the tree where four branches split off of the main trunk and formed a perfect place for an eleven year old boy to stand, with relative safety, hanging onto the branches as the wind gently pushed the tree back and forth in a two or three foot sway.


From that spot, high in the tree, you could see the top of the chimney on our two story house. It was a perfect lookout spot to keep watch for enemy invaders, and in the summer, when the leaves were full and green, you could easily go unnoticed by the people passing by on the sidewalk below. It was a place where a growing boy could go to be alone and think about stuff.

At some point in time, my friend John Logan and I decided we would like to build a tree house in the tree. We schemed and designed an elaborate plan for an amazing tree house. We searched out the neighborhood for supplies and materials, and when we were confident we could really make it happen, it fell on me, to ask permission.

I figured Mom was the easier one to approach so I tried her first. Mom, however, (more wisely than she realized) told me I should ask my father. A question of this magnitude demanded a face-to-face meeting with Dad, who was at work down at the church. And so I embarked, alone, on one of the longest two or three block walks of my life.

I can still remember walking very slowly, planning my argument, pleading my case over and over in my mind, bracing myself for objections or even rejection, but hoping beyond hope for favor. It was without a doubt the biggest request that I had ever made of my father, at least as far as I could remember. I entered the church in reverential fear.

Somehow, I managed to get my request from my heart to my mouth. I braced myself for the response. The answer came back quickly and simply, “Yes.”

The rest is a blur. I’m sure I must have thanked him and I probably walked quietly out of the church, but the next thing that I actually remember was running and jumping and hollering, with inexplicable joy, all the way back to the house to share the great news with my friend!

Did we build it? Absolutely!

Was it everything we envisioned it would be? Absolutely not!

But that was probably more due to a lack of available materials (or financing to acquire them) rather than a lack of desire or willingness on our part.

I wish I knew how to really explain to you what a great gift my father gave me that day. He probably didn’t (and still doesn’t) fully comprehend it either. But I knew. And even today it means the world to me that he said yes.

So, in reading my little story, you might be able to see why it is easy for me to understand God as a Heavenly Father. You see, I grew up with a natural father who wanted to do good things for me, who took care of me, who disciplined me as I needed it, and who nurtured and loved me. But my dad not only saw to it that I had what I needed, he even allowed me to do things that were desires of my heart! And all I had to do . . . was ask.


“If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!”
--Matthew 7:11 (NKJ)



(Author's note: I left Delta in 1968 and have not been able to go back since. My parent's visited in 2004 and took the pictures that I've included here. The first is of the cottonwood tree, more than 36 years later, and the second, of the church where Dad had ministered.)

Time to play

I finally got around to watching the movie, "We Are Marshall", this past week. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the film, it is a telling of a true event which happened in the early 70’s in West Virginia. In a tragic plane crash, virtually all of Marshall University’s Football Team was lost. The movie is about the rebuilding of the football team and the healing of the school and the town. It is a very moving film and has many thought provoking aspects.

I was particularly interested in a one theme in the film as the coach of the new team realizes that winning isn’t always everything, that it doesn’t even necessarily matter how you play the game, but rather just that you do play and that you do it with your whole heart.

We all face things in life that we don’t want to face and it is easy for us to come up with excuses for not facing up to those things. Part of trusting God is just to do the things that we know to do with our whole heart and leave the results up to Him.

So, maybe God is telling you to do something.

So, maybe you don’t succeed.

So, maybe you didn’t do everything just the way you should have.

What really matters is that you do it from your heart.

So, to borrow a line from the movie--


“It’s game day. Time to play till the whistle blows!”

My Brother, The Hero?

Have you ever been a hero? Have you ever wondered, if given the chance, whether you could do something heroic?

Just yesterday, my brother John was having lunch with someone when the man began choking. John noticed the man in distress and asked him if he was choking. The man nodded his head. John got up, went to the man and did the Heimlich maneuver on him, and was able to dislodge the obstruction and save the man’s life.

Usually, when we think of someone as being a hero, we think of the stories of someone racing into a burning building to save a baby, at great risk to their own life. Or maybe it’s a soldier sacrificing himself by falling on a grenade to save the lives of those around him. But sometimes it only involves taking the risk that your lunch might get cold, or that someone might look at you strangely wondering, “What the heck is he doing to that guy?”

John took very little risk. Did something he already knew how to do. Was probably well able to get back to finishing his lunch before it got cold. But what made him the hero--at least in that man’s eyes, if no others--was that he did it. No one else in the restaurant moved to help. No one called for help. Not one person.

I’m a person that believes in “divine appointments”. I think that God Himself causes us to be in certain places at certain times to show us His great love for us and for others. Now John does have a free will and he didn’t have to be there. He could have missed the appointment. But, I have to believe that God knew that John was going to be there and that John would act on what he already knew how to do. He loved that man so much that He made sure there would be someone there to help. I expect God even tried to warn the man not to order the chicken! Maybe a nice bowl of soup, instead.

So as you go through your day, looking for a burning building to run into, or a live grenade lying around that you can fall on, don’t miss the obviously less sacrificial ways that you can be a hero. God will put someone in your path today just so you can be their hero. The trick is not to miss the chance and to understand that it doesn’t have to look heroic to be so, nonetheless.

The real hero, yesterday, was God--though I am mighty proud of my little brother.

Just Like a Child

The other day, my wife and I were talking about the fact that she has many childlike qualities. The question raised by Nan was whether that was a good thing or a not-so-good thing. So it got me thinking about the qualities that she has which are childlike and whether they serve her well. It didn‘t take long to decide that, without a doubt, they are a big part of what makes her a blessing to so many others.

After spending most of the day, yesterday, around my grandson, Jake, and thinking about my other grandkids and some of their qualities, I jotted down just a few of those qualities that I think all of us should have. So here they are for your consideration.

Enthusiasm: Ever notice how most children rarely just say, “Hello,” when a person they know enters the room. I can still remember how my granddaughter, Elania, used to greet me when I would come home from work with an excited, “Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa!” as she launched herself into my arms.

Wonder and Amazement: At three and a half, Jake is so aware of and interested in the world around him, like when he spotted an unusual looking bug on the edge of the swimming pool and paused for a closer look, a quick inventory of its parts, and a little poke to see if it was still alive.

Imagination and Creativity: Jake is into pirates big time right now, so as he was standing on the edge of the swimming pool he said, “Grandpa, you be the ship and I’ll be a cannon . . . wait . . . no, my head will be the cannon ball and my body will be the cannon.” With that he abruptly dove into the water towards me head . . . uh . . . I mean, cannonball first!

Energy and Life: I think most all of my grandkids have just one speed, GO! They have an amazing ability to go full speed through their day and then suddenly shutdown, unable to go another step. I know my grandsons Gydeon and Justin got a double dose of energy that their mom only wishes she could tap into!

Curiosity: It’s not enough for my grandsons to know that something works, they seem driven to know how. Lots of dismantled toys, whenever they are around.

Innocence and Faith: This is a fragile one. And it doesn’t take much to change this in a child, and that is a real shame. I remember this quality in my grandson Shane, and have seen it in my newest grandson, Jack, as well. I can only believe it must be there in my granddaughter, Heaven, the only grandkid that I’ve yet to meet.

Anyway, I think we miss out of a lot of joy from feeling like we have to be so adult all of the time. And while there is a big difference between just having some fun and being foolish, we shouldn’t ever miss the chance to embrace our lives with enthusiasm, wonder, amazement, imagination, creativity, energy, life, curiosity, innocence, and faith.

(What are your thoughts? Please share them, so others can be blessed.)

No Cow Bell Necessary

In the back room of the place I work is a cow bell. It used to hang over the backroom door as an alarm bell of sorts, alerting associates to anyone who entered the backroom without authorization. Eventually, it was taken down by someone who had the good sense to see that it was overly loud, extremely annoying and not really necessary in the first place!

It still sits on a shelf as if someone consciously decided, “We’d better hang on to that--never can tell when we might need it again. And you know how often you need a good cow bell and can’t find one for nothing!” But more likely, it is still there because of the fact that whoever bought this one for the store, spent $18.25 for it, and it seems like a lot of money to spend, just to throw it away. So it will probably be around for a bit longer, gathering dust and more than a few puzzled looks.

I was noticing this particular cow bell at work the other day and was reminded of a time in my life when I was exposed to cow bells as they were intended to be used--on cows. For a short, but significant part of my life as a child, I lived with my family on a very small farm. Our neighbors across the street, an elderly man and his wife, had a much larger spread than we did and had quite a few cattle, so I was used to seeing cow bells.

The woman, on at least one occasion, had suggested to Mom that she and Dad should put cow bells on us kids so they could keep up with the four of us. (We had a lot of freedom to roam the area in that day, and we liberally exercised that freedom.) They never actually did resort to cow bells, but were probably tempted to do so a time or two when we were hard to find after a day full of exploring.

So, it got me thinking how God doesn’t need a cow bell on his children to know exactly where they are, what they are doing, or the challenges that they are facing. He not only knows where we are, He is there with us and He promised He wouldn’t ever leave us. I find great comfort in knowing that no matter where I am, I am never alone. And that if I trust Him, no matter how far I’ve wandered away, He can always get me back home.

I serve a wonderfully loving and caring God, who is mindful of my every need, and forever faithful to watch over me and keep me. All that, and no cow bell necessary! How blessed is that!

To Live Without Regrets

Ever wonder what it would be like to live without regrets? To feel good about every single thing that you did, every word that you spoke, every thought that you pondered. No regrets. No looking back and thinking, “Oh, I wish I hadn’t . . . .”

I’d like to suggest that if that were ever to happen, it would only happen as a result of totally and completely surrendering every thought, word, and action to love . . . to God’s love in us.

I remember my brother telling me something a very long time ago, about the girlfriend he had at the time. He said that he had never heard her say anything bad about someone else. As I listened to her in the weeks and months that followed, I found what he said to be true. And I also noticed that when someone else began to be critical of another person, she was always quick to come to their defense with a possible reason why they had acted the way they did. I was so impressed by her example, that I determined in my heart not to ever speak badly of another person as long as I lived. Five minutes later, after failing terribly, I realized that I had a lot of work ahead of me.

Now, thirty something years later, I’m ashamed to admit that I still have so far to go. And it isn’t even like I don’t know what I need to do to make it happen. I do know.

First, I need to let God love me--accept His love, and take a good look at the way He loves me “in spite of . . . .”

Secondly, I need to love God--and in loving Him, I will want to please Him.

And then, because of my personal relationship with God, I will begin to see others as God sees them--not only as they are now, but also as He intended for them to be.

And finally, I need to bring my thoughts under control--to choose what things I allow to stay in my thoughts, because it’s not so much about not ever having a bad thought, but rather not allowing those thoughts to linger.

Seems simple enough, right? So, next time I’m tempted to say something bad about someone, I’m going to try to give them the benefit of the doubt. I’m going to try to understand that I don’t know everything about their situation. I’m going to try to slow down enough to realize that I don’t know what battles they are fighting. I’m going to try to look for their potential. I’m going to try to realize that they probably just need some love and understanding, and that it isn’t always easy to find it in our world. And I’m not going to later regret what I thought, said, or did.

Well, at least I’m going to try. How about you?

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God . . . .” 1 John 4:7a (NKJ)

Amazing Love

Sometimes I am amazed at a person’s ability to love someone . . .
. . . even when that someone is not likable.

Sometimes I am amazed at a person’s response to being loved . . .
. . . how it can melt away years of hardness or pain.

Sometimes I am amazed by how someone expresses love for me . . .
. . . and it catches me by surprise.

Sometimes I am amazed by how much I feel love for someone else . . .
. . . to the point that I am overwhelmed by it.

Sometimes I am amazed at how God loves me . . .
. . . even as messed up as I am.

Sometimes I am amazed that so many people don’t understand . . .
. . . that love is not necessarily something you feel . . .
. . . but it is always something you do.

Maybe we should all take a moment to thank someone who has loved us.

After all, they didn’t have to do it.

Maybe we should all take a moment to love someone who needs it.

After all, the Bible tells us,

"Love never fails.” I Corinthians 13:8 (NKJ)

(I'd love to hear your story about amazing love. Just click on comments and share a little love.)

Life is Hard . . . But God is Good!

My father sometimes tells me that he is inspired by my great faith. Interesting comment, since I feel that the greatest gift my parents ever gave me was their example of faith.

I believe that one of the things that persons of faith hold in common, is that they have established certain things in their hearts. They are able to hold on to certain absolutes, and never let them be shaken out of their heart, regardless of what it looks like, sounds like or seems like. They walk by faith and not by sight.

One thing that I hold forever established in my heart is that God is good all the time. That He is working for me and not against me. Now, just because I believe Him to be good, doesn't mean I get a free pass from troubles and problems. No, the Bible tells me, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the LORD delivers him out of them all. Psalm 34:19 (NKJ). I like the "delivers him out of them all" part of this verse!

My father has shared with me on more than one occasion, that one of his favorite Bible verses is: "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28 (NKJ).

Through my past experience, I know when bad things happen, I can stay at rest, knowing in my heart that God will turn it toward good. When I look back over my life I can see time after time where God has sustained me through a tough situation and brought good out of it in the long run. I think all of us can look back at our lives and say, "You know, if this hadn't happened, then I never would have . . . ."

Last year, my wife and I found ourselves in a situation where we had to sell our home and move. At the time, it was very hard on us, and yet God has turned it to good for us, and we love the place we live now even more than our former home. That's the kind of thing He has always done for me, so I can't help but look forward to seeing what He does with the challenges that are before me now.



(I would like to invite you to share your experiences of witnessing God bringing good out of something that seemed bad at the time. Just click on comments and share your story!)

At Rest

This is a picture of my newest grandson, Jack.

Jack is a very peaceful baby.

Jack doesn’t worry about a lot of things. He doesn’t wonder where his next meal is coming from or how he is going to be able to afford to put gas in the car. He has already learned, in the short few weeks that he’s been here, that if he needs something, his mommy or his daddy, or someone who loves him, is going to make sure that he gets it.

He might not get it as quickly as he thinks he should, but he’s going to get it. All he has to do is ask . . . well, cry, and he’ll get what he needs, and be well satisfied, and taken care of, and loved.

I cried to the LORD with my voice, and He heard me from His holy hill. Selah
Psalms 3:4 (NKJ)

As you can see in this picture of my grandson, Jack is at rest. He's trusting in his mommy and daddy. How much more should we be at rest, trusting in our Heavenly Father?

Be anxious for nothing . . . let your requests be made known to God.

Phillipians 4:6 (NKJ)

So, now what?

"So, now what?

“Look what you’ve started, Robert. You were so excited to have begun your very own blog. You went out and invited people to read it, and they actually did. And they even acted like they might be willing to read more of what you write! They were gracious and encouraging . . . .

“So, now what?

“You've looked around on the Internet enough to know that there are all kinds of blogs out there. And just how many of those were you even a little interested in? That’s what I thought. So, why would yours be any different. Why would anyone look forward to your next posting?

“So, now what? Whatcha-gonna-do-now?”



Well, I’ll tell you what I am going to do. I am going to step out in FAITH. . . and write. You see, I know this as well as I know my own name: I have been given a gift by God Himself. It’s a gift--an ability to write. When it is in operation at it’s best, I stand back in amazement at what I have written. That’s how I know it is God that is forming the words in my heart; when I am blessed (sometimes even to tears) by reading something I just wrote.

I just start out, and trust Him to do the rest. I don’t have to worry about the result. That’s not my job. It’s His job to make what He will out of it. And He is ever faithful and true. He meets me here and carries me to places and shows me things beyond myself. How wonderful is that? Who wouldn’t want to see God in action--moving through the gifts that He Himself has placed on the inside of them?

This is what FAITH is all about. It’s about knowing that you know something will happen. You might not know all the how, why, or when of it . . . but you know . . . you are thoroughly convinced and have a deep inside peace . . . and nothing can change that which you hold in your heart. Sometimes, your mind might want you to doubt. It may look beyond impossible, but your heart is steadfast, unshakable, unwavering--trusting in Him--at rest, knowing He will do it.

“So, now what?”

So, now I write . . . The Song of My Heart, The Words That I Write.




Author’s Note: I’m quite sure there are blogs out there which would interest you. If my blog interests you, you might want to take a look at another one that is worthy of your time. It's by Gary S. Chapman, an amazing photographer, an even more amazing man of God. Enjoy!http://www.garyschapman.com/blog/

And so I begin.

Thank you for joining me on what I hope will be a life changing adventure for me and for anyone who will go with me. It is my intention that this blog will mainly focus on faith and love, conveyed through the power of words. Still, it is likely to be a journey of unexpected discoveries, as I only have a starting point, and the destination is not entirely defined.


As a retail manager, I often quiz my staff on what the "goal" is. If they don't know the goal, the next thing I say is, "So you're taking a trip, but you don't know where you're going. So how will you know when you get there?" Goals are vital to success in business and necessary in our personal lives if anything is going to get done. But I sometimes feel as if we are setting ourselves up to miss so much of what God has for us if we are goal driven in everything we do.


Nothing would thrill me more than to be able to afford to get in my car and drive with no particular destination other than to discover what is out there to see. No clearly defined goal, open to whatever I might find. So this is why I have decided to begin this blog--because I can't afford to get in my car and drive with no particular destination other than to discover what is out there to see.


(My brother John has a wonderful posting on his blog that speaks to this very idea. You can find it at: http://jtmcarthur.blogspot.com/2008/03/changing-directions.html )


Words, however, are free. And they can take you to some amazing places. They can touch you, inform you, empower you, console you, inspire you . . . set you free!


So it is with a good deal of excitement that I begin. I begin this journey at the coaxing of my brother John, whose love and support of me has been immeasurable over the years, but especially now. How can I say thanks, John? It is too big for words. And when it's too big for words, that's when you know . . . it is LOVE.