Saw this spoken word by way of a random search. Awesome.
Think I’ll get a coach and learn how to do this. I really like what young people are doing with different forms of communicating the hope found only in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Tag Archives: God
Memories
Memories. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes bitter. Almost always instructive.
A recent conversation brought this to mind. It gave me cause to reflect on my “days on the farm.” What an awesome, incredible, joy-filled experience… especially for a city boy.
There is nothing quite like waking up to the sight of five or six cows on the loose and running down the road. Nothing much can prepare you for the frightful moment a turkey decides to lunge at your midsection. And the yard work…oh brother, forget it! The weeds never go away.
If you are familiar with farms, then you know what I mean. If not, you have nooooo idea.
Neither did I. In fact, I thought it would be everything my childhood imagination insisted.
Bare feet.
Fresh milk.
Omelets every morning.
Horseback riding.
Sipping lemonade on the porch.
Dangling hot feet in cool streams.
A dog for the front yard.
A dog for the back yard.
A dog for the truck.
And a dog for Mama’s lap.
Mice keeping the crumbs away and cats keeping the mice away.
Roosters crowing.
Sheep braaaing.
Cows bawling.
Children playing.
And grown-ups talking.
Well, I guess it’s all of that and quite a bit more. Some I experienced. Some I still dream about.
During our first church ministry, my young family and I were invited to live on a farm with some members of the church. They had just built a new home on the farm leaving the old farm house empty. We could hardly believe our fortune. The scent of hay filled our senses from a hundred miles away. We could barely contain ourselves. Graduating from school, packing our household items and tying up loose ends became mere formalities. In our hearts we were already on the farm.
The arrival only reinforced the expectations. And four years on that beautiful farm confirmed our expectations were right. We built friendships stretching to heaven and memories that seem like heaven.
One in particular still gives me reason to giggle. My wife, Vanita, was out weeding her small garden. Remember, we were city folk living the country life…always willing, not always as wise. As she kneeled, pulled, dug, and rearranged, our first child, Matthew, played around her, on her, under her, and sometimes over her. He played with the tools…well, he managed to lift a handle or two, seeing as he was just two years old or so. He picked up the discarded weeds…put some of them back in the ground. He dug deep in the soil with his bare hands. He chucked a few small stones. All in all, he was becoming the little boy I once longed to be.
Playing behind Vanita, Matthew said, “Mama, is dirt good?”
“Yes, Sweetheart, the dirt is good,” she answered.
“Mama, is the sky good?”
“Yes, Honey, the sky is good.”
“Howbout the rocks, Mama? Rocks good?”
“Uh-huh, rocks too, Matthew.”
“Grass?”
“Yes, grass too.”
“Mama, are worms good?”
“Yes, Baby, worms are good.”
And for just a little bit our son fell silent.
… … …
Then,
“Puh, yecch, blech, puh, puh, splech, khu-poo…uh-uh, Momma, worms not good!”
Turning, my beautiful wife witnessed Matthew spitting the last remnants of a large earth worm from his mouth. He turned, lips and cheeks all covered with dirt, smiled and said, “Uh-uh, Mama, worms are ugh.”
Memories are awesome. They bring back good times…sometimes not so good times. They give us a reason to pause…slow down…reflect…and learn. You can fill in the blanks regarding the lessons we learned from that little episode. Even more so the many lessons learned during a not so successful transformation from city folk to country folk. Perhaps for me the lesson is this: children want to learn. They are born with the who, what, where, when, and how questions ready to explode from their minds and their lips. More importantly, the why question is just begging to be fulfilled.
“Why is dirt good, Mama?”
“Well it helps us grow food.”
“Why, Mama?”
“Because, it has the right stuff for growing the food.”
“Why, Mama?”
“Because, it’s always been that way, darling.”
“Why, Mama?”
“Because, that’s how God made it.”
“Why, Mama?”
“Oh, Baby, sometimes I just don’t know why.”
…
…
…
“Why, Mama?”
If you are a parent, you’re saying, “Been there, done that,” right?
Most often their questions make us proud. Often the questions stump us. Sometimes exasperate us. Hopefully they do not anger us.
It’s the way God designed us. The human being is a question producing, information gathering, idea synthesizing product of an all-knowing, never-changing, wise and creative God. We learn. He teaches. We’re made in his image. So we get to teach also.
Be careful, then, Mom. Be careful, Dad. Be careful, grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, teacher, preacher, counselor, mentor…be careful. In the Bible we read this:
Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Deuteronomy 6:4-7
and this
My people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth with a parable; I will utter hidden things, things from of old—things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us. We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done. Psalm 78:1-4
and this
Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord. Ephesians 6:4
Be careful that you help your offspring not only know about God, but come to know him. The last thing you want to hear from your son or daughter one day is, “Puh, yecch, blech, puh, puh, splech, khu-poo…uh-uh, God’s not good!”
The Ethos of a Navy Seal
The Navy Seals have been in the news a lot lately. They cause us to stand in wonder. And standing in wonder has caused me to wonder what drives these guys? Well, perhaps, the statement of the Navy Seal ethic can help. Here it is:
In times of war or uncertainty there is a special breed of warrior ready to answer our Nation’s call. A common man with uncommon desire to succeed. Forged by adversity, he stands alongside America’s finest special operations forces to serve his country, the American people, and protect their way of life. I am that man.
My Trident is a symbol of honor and heritage. Bestowed upon me by the heroes that have gone before, it embodies the trust of those I have sworn to protect. By wearing the Trident I accept the responsibility of my chosen profession and way of life. It is a privilege that I must earn every day.
My loyalty to Country and Team is beyond reproach. I humbly serve as a guardian to my fellow Americans always ready to defend those who are unable to defend themselves. I do not advertise the nature of my work, nor seek recognition for my actions. I voluntarily accept the inherent hazards of my profession, placing the welfare and security of others before my own.
I serve with honor on and off the battlefield. The ability to control my emotions and my actions, regardless of circumstance, sets me apart from other men.Uncompromising integrity is my standard. My character and honor are steadfast. My word is my bond.
We expect to lead and be led. In the absence of orders I will take charge, lead my teammates and accomplish the mission. I lead by example in all situations.
I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity. My Nation expects me to be physically harder and mentally stronger than my enemies. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission. I am never out of the fight.
We demand discipline. We expect innovation. The lives of my teammates and the success of our mission depend on me – my technical skill, tactical proficiency, and attention to detail. My training is never complete.
We train for war and fight to win. I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country. The execution of my duties will be swift and violent when required yet guided by the very principles that I serve to defend.
Brave men have fought and died building the proud tradition and feared reputation that I am bound to uphold. In the worst of conditions, the legacy of my teammates steadies my resolve and silently guides my every deed. I will not fail.
Wow! Awesome! I am absolutely thrilled with the whole, but these words from the sixth paragraph are off the chart: I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity…if knocked down, I will get back up, every time… I am never out of the fight.
I believe the Holy Spirit inspired the Apostle Paul to write a similar motto for fully devoted followers of the Savior. You can find it in Philippians 3:7-16. Here it is:
But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained.
Passion. Does anyone doubt that Navy Seals possess it? Does anyone doubt followers of Christ possess it? As Arsenio used to say, “Just something that makes you go hmmmm.”
50 Years of the Rolling Stones
Recently, I read a brief article regarding longevity. You know, the ability to stay the course for a long span of time. The featured evidence in the article? The Rolling Stones. That’s right, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards et. al. I found the article in the Bloomberg Businessweek. I know nothing of the magazine other than my nephew, Ricci, has a subscription.
Check this out…
In 2012, the Stones celebrated their 5oth anniversary. Other celebs not so fortunate (at least not yet):
The Beatles
Johnny Carson
Led Zepplin
Michael Jackson
Madonna
Michael Jackson (or any other Jackson)
U2
Even Tower Records came and went telling us the Stones have not only out lived and out-performed many, they have even out lived some technology.
When the Stones started out a 45rpm record (two songs for those too young to know about 45’s) would cost $1.00. In 2012 dollars that would be $7.60. Today the top iTune price for a single is $1.29. Stuff cost a lot in the good ol’ days!
The average age of a Rolling Stone is 68.75. The average age of a Supreme Court Justice is 66.11. While the Stones seem to get better and better, I’m not so sure about the other guys.
The Rolling Stones were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989. My sons were little fellas then and my 21 year old daughter had not yet been born. Still, the Hall of Fame didn’t slow them down. Since 1989 the Stones have played live concerts in front of 25 million people. Do the math. That is over 10 million people a year.
The Stones most recent tour, A Bigger Bang Tour, pulled in $558 million dollars. The gross domestic product of the nation of Tonga is $439 million. One tour!
And just for the record (no pun intended) the Stones have 42 gold albums, 28 platinum albums, 12 multi-platinum albums, and a diamond album. Gold albums equal 500,000, platinums a 1,000,000, diamonds 10,000,000. Only Elvis, The Beatles, and Barbara Streisand have done better.
So what’s the point in all of this information? Well, besides just the sheer impressiveness of the Rolling Stones career, it tells us something about sustainability. Purpose, desire, attitude, and more can help a person or group overcome the odds, reach and maintain success, and achieve and sustain a vision. The Bible talks about this kind of truth. A person or a group literally can will something to come about. Determination and drive can propel us to great things. And they should…except for…
…except for salvation.
King Solomon learned this truth centuries ago. In his book, Ecclesiastes, he chronicled the pursuit of meaning through desire, profit, achievement, success, wealth, power, education, and fame all wrapped up in a package called longevity. Read it. It won’t take you very long. You will find that this “wisest man in all the world” discovered something quite sobering. He learned that no amount of short or long term success, not the pursuit nor the catch, could fill the hole in his heart. Somewhere deep down inside there would always be a severe sound screaming in his soul so long as he attempted to silence it with success.
In the end, God revealed to Solomon a wonderful truth: a person can only find real and lasting meaning in the source of his being…the Creator. Ecclesiastes 3:11 puts it this way: “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” Did you get that? God has set eternity in our hearts. We long for it. We yearn for it…and God alone can give it, because God alone is eternal. Anything less will never fill that hole in the heart.
Now while I understand the specific nature of the Rolling Stones song, Satisfaction, I can also see how it reveals this biblical truth: I can’t get no satisfaction. Without the eternal God there will be no victory in the vacuum of our hearts.
Outside of his music, Mick Jagger has been quoted as saying, “The elusive nature of love… it can be such a fleeting thing. You see it there and it’s just fluttering and it’s gone.” Even love cannot sustain us.
He also said, “Lose your dreams and you might lose your mind.” Even our dreams, our hopes, our vision will not satisfy the longing in our lives.
Statements like these might also be why he said, “I’d rather be dead than singing “Satisfaction” when I’m forty-five.” Mick sounds a lot like Solomon: “Meaningless! Meaningless! says the Teacher. Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless” (Ecclesiastes 1:2).
Longevity is not the measure of success. If it were than one might just as well attend church for fifty years without ever really knowing the Lord.
In fact, success itself is not the true measure of success. If it were than the person dying with the most toys really would be the winner.
Longevity and success, while not irrelevant, simply are not enough. They were not enough for Solomon. They are not enough for Mick Jagger or the other Rolling Stones. And they are not enough for you or for me.
Sure, work hard. Do your best. Be your best. Never give up. Never get old. Stop being childish, but never stop being child-like. Give it your all from start to finish with as much energy as you can muster. Don’t settle for empty houses or empty accounts. Do all of this, but not when it comes to the hole in your heart or the severe screaming in your soul. For this kind of emptiness you need the Eternal.
Brewer Road
Brewer Road. Douglas County. Georgia.
My sister married into a large family that came from Brewer Road.
The last name of that family is Camp. The family is even bigger these days. Included in the family is Jeff, my nephew.
Living so far away we do not get the opportunity to know one another very well. My loss.
However, a little less than a month ago, Jeff and his Mom, my sister Barbara, came to the great northwest for a short visit. The visit was prompted by the death of my other sister, Floria. Now, okay, not the best circumstances for a visit, but still the visit was sweet. I learned a few things on account of that visit. Barbara is a great Mom. Jeff is a great son. And I’m positive I can say the same kind of thing about the rest of that Georgia family.
Jeff could not contain himself. While I have met his wife, Amanda, only once (and that on their wedding day), and have never met his beautiful little girl, McKoy, I feel as though I know them well. Jeff simply spilled and gushed tid-bits and news regarding both of them. If Jeff has ever hit a home run, shot game while it was on the move, succeeded at business beyond the expectations of others, or any other way gained some small town fame, I would not know. He didn’t talk about himself. He talked about others.
His wife.
His daughter.
His Mom.
His Dad.
His brother.
His extended family.
His co-workers.
Even the former sheriff of Douglas County (if you ever meet Jeff, you will want to ask about the Sheriff).
And it was all positive. And sometimes what he shared was priceless.
One of those stories took place on old Brewer Road. If you can recall the song by Brooks and Dunn, “Red Dirt Road,” then you’ll have a good picture of Brewer Road back in the day. Now for just a few moments allow yourself to transport back to the early 50’s. That’s right, right back in the middle of the last century. Picture for yourself an old, red dirt road stretching and winding its way through the pine trees, kudzu, scupanon vines, corn fields, and cabins with nothing but dirt for yards.
Now imagine a young man walking that old dirt road with nothing but a duffle bag hung over his shoulder. Mixed in his heart were the expectations of joy for returning home and the exasperation of pain for remembering war. His name is Ernie. He was coming home from Korea. Ernie was one of seven boys born to Fred and Manie Camp.
Imagine also a mom, dad, and six brothers standing, milling around, kicking the dust, chatting, longing, looking for him to round the curve and enter into sight. Early in the morning they gathered. Eagerly they waited. On that day they waited. Think about that…that day, for them, today, their day, his day…an epic day…a day they had contemplated and anticipated…time stood still on that day. It stood still the way you want time to stand still. It stood still with the joy of life not the humdrum of life. Time is like that. When you are focused on the event, the celebration, the glory and the hope, time is inconsequential. Ernie’s soon and coming return produced this kind of hope. It was more like an eternal moment than minutes and hours on a slow southern day.
And then it happened. No confusion. No mistake. Recognition was perfect. The son and brother came into sight. He ran. They ran. The dust of the old dirt road churned. Whoops and hollers from deep southern drawls sang their way through the dark corners of woods and swamps spreading the light of their joy. Young legs carried young men toward one another. Older legs of Mom and Dad trailed behind, not for want of enthusiasm, but simply for age. Six brothers reached their brother. The reunion would be spectacular. One brother plowed right through them. Ernie’s eyes were on Mother and Father. Yes he wanted to rejoin his brothers. He wanted to hug them. Talk with them. Catch up with them. But first…first came Mom and Dad. He ran into their arms. The son was home. The parents were content. The brothers watched. Deep satisfaction paved old Brewer Road. Beautiful. Incredible. Fantastic. I can imagine Mother Camp whispering in the ear of her returned son, “Well done. I’m so glad you are home.” I can also imagine his tears of joy.
As Jeff told me this story, his eyes also filled with joy…not tears of joy. Instead, his eyes were afire with joy. Genuine excitement moved him body and soul. He recalled his Uncle Don telling this story now enshrined in their family hall of fame. His Uncle Don—the preacher—loved this bit of family history. It reminded him of His Story. It reminded him of heaven.
Heaven, where time stands still with the event of God’s glory.
Heaven, where every reunion pales in the light of our union with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Heaven, where all the out-stretched arms of loved ones who have gone before must yet remain empty of our embrace as we thrill for the promise of the Everlasting Arms.
When one finally reaches the final destination, he or she does not run into the arms of anyone other than the most beloved. So, for a little while, can you allow yourself to be transported to your final destination? Does that destination look like the one described by Jeff and before him his Uncle Don? Does your destination sound and feel like this:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. Revelation 21:1-6
Will your destination find time standing still with joy and expectation? Will the glory of the never-ending event of the presence of God satisfy all your longings? Will you run past all the others into the Everlasting Arms? Will you hear the Savior say, “Well done. I’m so glad you are home?” Will you?
There is a road.
There is an old dirt road.
It is paved with memories.
It’s called Brewer Road.
There is another road.
There is a long narrow road.
It is paved with life.
It’s called Salvation Road.
Ricki Lee Brooks 