Anamchara

The Last Anniversary

2008-08-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

My wife of 33 years died on our anniversary on Saturday, August 9Th. Eleven years ago, we had celebrated our anniversary days after her first surgery for brain cancer.

My wife was an extraordinary person. Over 350 people turned out for her funeral. Her love for her family and friends, her courage, and her ruthless trust in God are a few of the things that defined her. She was known in this small town for her beautiful smile and her positive attitude.

A couple of weeks before her death, and before her speech went, she told me she didn't want to leave me. We talked about how we had been able to be together every day since her second surgery 3 years ago. I told her we could have spent a lifetime together and, if she would have been healthy, may have not spent that much time together. She also said she wasn't dying, she was living. She always said she could not ask "Why me" without asking "Why not me." The priest at our little Episcopal church told of her many trips to the altar rail during our Wednesday evening healing service. Never once did she ask anything for herself, but always asked for prayers of strength for me and our boys.

I was able to keep her at home, and she died surrounded by our boys, two daughters-in-laws, and her best friend. It was hard. The hardest thing I have ever experienced. But, I would not trade those days for anything.

Her funeral was held at 5:30 in the afternoon on August 12. The burial at the cemetery wrapped up just as the sun was setting.

I will miss her dearly.

Fiery Trials

2008-05-21T22:11:00.000-07:00

As Christians, if we suffer long enough, or if "friends" and/or "Christians" don't understand or agree with our suffering, meaning suffering is something they can't handle for whatever reason or reasons, we sometimes find ourselves alone. In my own case, this can be an opportunity to identify more closely with Christ, who himself died alone.

Jesus never condemns us in our suffering. He never tells us that we have no idea about real suffering, given the suffering He endured on the cross.

Rather, Jesus comes along side us, and shares in our suffering, as we mystically share in His.

"Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner." I Peter 4: 12,13 The Message

My circle of friends has gotten very small as my wife and I have suffered. I take comfort in the communion of saints. We have, by God's mercy, been able to "have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:18,19 NIV)."

The Birthday Present

2007-07-17T16:39:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday was my wife's birthday. Her only wish was to go eat a late breakfast at a diner in an old strip mall. This was quite an undertaking, as her brain tumor has caused her considerable trouble walking.

Debra insisted on using her four-pronged cane to walk into the diner, and she did so with her ever present smile in place. We shared a wonderful time together. As I went to the front to pay, she began making her way to join me. An older gentlemen stopped her and told her he was inspired by her attitude and determination. I overheard him ask her what was wrong - had she been in an accident or something. She told him she had a brain tumor.

By this time, I had joined this man and my wife, and he introduced us to his wife. He explained that they had moved into the area to be closer to his son and his family, and he was the associate pastor of the Church of Christ. He asked my wife and I if he and his wife could pray for us, and after saying yes, we joined hands in the middle of this little diner and he prayed.

I don't remember much of what he prayed, as thoughts of gratitude were flowing through me. Didn't he know we were Episcopalians? What business would a conservative Church of Christ pastor have with some liberal Episcopalians? He didn't ask if, or where, we went to church. He just saw a need and he prayed, no questions asked.

We have lived in this small town all of our married lives, except for the college years, and we know many people. Ten years ago to the day, on Debra's birthday in 1997, she was in the hospital having seizure after seizure, as we tried to decide a course of treatment for her newly diagnosed brain tumor. This was the first time in all of these years that someone had offered to pray for her on the spot that I can remember, and outside of a church setting for sure.

We had planned to be in Austin for her birthday, as Debra was to start another round of chemotherapy on Monday. She had been wanting to visit our youngest son, but had not been able to because of her low white blood counts. A last minute request from another son to watch his dog had kept us in town. There is no doubt in my mind that God arranged for the four of us to be in that diner - we needed encouragement in the worst way. I thank God for Pastor Perry and his wife. Christ himself was telling us that he is aware of our circumstances and struggles. Pastor Perry and his wife were the vessels he used that day. What a birthday present from a creator who doesn't miss a sparrow falling to the ground.

Changed Lives

2007-07-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

I was visiting with an old friend on the telephone yesterday. Jerry is some thirty years my senior, and I consider him one of my closest friends. When I was in high school, several of us guys converted to Christianity. Jerry used to have us over to his home every Sunday night for some conversation and Bible study. Jerry had recently converted to Christianity, and he talked with us as equals.

Yesterday, Jerry was telling me how he came to believe in Jesus. His wife, Jean, had converted first, and he was watching her from a distance, so to speak. What got his attention was the change he began to see in Jean, and the other new Christians she was meeting with.

Changed lives. The result of the Gospel, the Good News. Not the substituting of one set of rules and regulations for another, but a change in, and of, the heart. The "power of the gospel" showing up as changed lives, "rooted and grounded in love." A relationship with the Christ, an historical figure who lived, was crucified, died, and was resurrected some two thousand years ago.

I am always amazed how all of life, and I mean all of life, is found, expessed, and summed up in the person of Jesus Christ. This overused phrase, "changed lives," means allot of different things to different people, but in my experience, there is a certain aroma surrounding the real deal.

I'm glad Jerry was, and is, around to bear witness to the power of God as revealed through Jesus Christ.

Don't Be Afraid

2006-11-20T15:17:00.000-08:00

Stephanie is the last person I would expect to see in the "chemo room" of a neuro-oncologist's office in Dallas, but there she was, sitting in a recliner, hooked up to a bag of a new chemotherapy drug for brain tumor patients. She is young, married, and has twin seven year olds. In the last year, Stephanie has had brain surgery, radiation therapy, and chemotherapy.

My wife has a primary brain tumor, and she has been fighting it for 9 1/2 years. She had gotten some pretty bad news the week earlier - part of her tumor had come back in a more aggressive form. Part of it had come back less aggressive, but that part is slowly infiltrating her brain stem. Having been through 2 brain surgeries, 3 different chemotherapy treatments, and radiation therapy, her treatment options are limited. She can choose focal radiation, called the Gamma Knife, to treat the aggressive part, and she can do another round of one of the same chemotherapy drugs and risk that the tumor has become resistant to those drugs. Or, she can take a newer, more aggressive chemotherapy drug, with all sorts of side effects, including bleeding into her tumor, which could be fatal.

My wife's cancer is in the left frontal lobe of her brain, where her decision making takes place, so I have to help her make the decision on what course of action to choose. I was wary of giving my wife something that might kill her. We talked to other doctors and friends, and we prayed for guidance. However, I still didn't feel sure about one course of action over the other.

When we arrived at the neuro-oncologist's office, we were still undecided, though we were leaning towards one of the known chemotherapy drugs. A PET Scan done the previous week confirmed what the doctor and the MRI had suggested - her tumor was fast-growing, and it was getting into the brain stem.

We finally decided on the more aggressive chemotherapy, and so we headed down the hall to the "chemo room." Which brings me back to Stephanie.

Stephanie told us about herself, and how the new chemotherapy seemed to be working. She comforted my wife as she began feeling wierd as the drugs flowed into her. There was, and is, something about Stephanie that I can't explain - she is so "alive".

Stephanie had some books open on her lap, including her Bible, and I asked her if she was reading anything interesting. She told us she was catching up on the daily devotions written by Charles Stanley, which was my wife's favorite daily guide before she got so sick. Stephanie began to read us the scriptures that went with each daily devotion, and then the devotion itself. At one point, as she was reading, tears streamed down her face, and she told us her relationship with Christ was so personal to her.

I don't understand it, but I know God had Stephanie in that room to help us out. For me, God was confirming that He is with us, which is wierd, because if that's true, He could heal Stephanie and my wife in the blink of an eye. Similar situations and encounters have happened to us several times. Could God be interested in something more than a quick fix - like trust, and community?

Oh, and Stephanie read me the story about Jairus and his sick daughter and how, when Jesus had been told of the daughter's death, He told Jairus, "Don't be afraid; just believe."

Stephanie said that was for me.

Avoidance Technique

2006-06-06T05:12:00.000-07:00

Before Easter, Good Friday. Before joy, suffering.

Until this last year, I have viewed suffering as something to be avoided. I have tried to avoid suffering, yet I suffer. And still, I find myself trying to avoid it.

Some of my suffering is the result of my own bad choices and sin. Some of my suffering is caused by events beyond my control. My solution, though, is usually the same - try to avoid suffering.

I have tried looking for the right formula. Maybe more prayer, or bible reading; or watching television, or exercising. Yet, all of these things, many of them good in and of themselves, are aimed at relieving the symptoms of suffering - hopelessness, depression, judgementalism, and generally just being too hard on myself and others. They do nothing to stem the suffering itself.

I am seeing, though dimly, another way. The way of embracing my suffering. And, when possible, offering my suffering up to God.

Release versus relief. Release of God's Spirit in my life. This is risky, as I have to lay down my shovel and stop digging my own cisterns. As I quit digging my own cisterns, and become still, I may be putting myself in a position to recognize the soft breeze of God's Spirit, blowing and moving when and where it wants. For God's purposes, not mine.

Suffering messes up my perspective. If I continue to view it in the wrong light, I will continue to be too introspective, too self-absorbed. It puts me in the position of feeling I am at the center of the universe, instead of seeing myself on the receiving end of God's grace and loving-kindness.

Trying Harder, Eddie Haskel, and Freedom

2006-05-18T07:15:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried to be good? I mean consistently, positively, good? I have. In my case, the harder I tried, the more I failed. I gradually became self-consious, then self-absorbed, and, finally, self-obsessed. I focused more on my failures than on anything else, including God and others. It was very frustrating. It was a very noble undertaking, this being good. Wasn't it?

I found the Apostle Paul faced this problem. In Romans 7: 15-17, Paul speaks of the frustration of trying to be good. In verse 17, Paul says it is the sin inside us that makes us do evil things, and that it (sin) is stronger than we are.

As a Christian, one way I reacted to my inability to overcome the undertow of sin in my life was to deny it existed. I gave lip service to being a sinner, but I'm not sure I realized what was going on.

My second reaction was to try even harder, at least on the surface. Do you remember Eddie Haskel of "Leave It To Beaver" fame? Poor Eddie. He really knew how to act. He knew what he should do, as evidenced in his politeness to Mrs. Cleaver. When it came to the Beaver, though, Eddie's dark side surfaced. He just couldn't help himself.

I found myself becoming an Eddie Haskel. I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't all that bad, that I was a good Christian. So, like Eddie, I was nice and polite to those I wanted to impress, and I gauged my righteousness based how well I impressed them. That, in turn, would impress God.

Oh, but my darker side came to the surface when I encountered the "Beavers" in my life - those I felt I was better than, more powerful than, and better looking than. But, my very actions condemned me. So, back on the treadmill of trying to be righteous; my sinful nature emerging; followed by guilt, shame, and condemnation.

A third way I attempted to deal with my sinful nature was to develop an 'I'm sorry' response to life. I began to see myself as a failure, or a victim, unable to change. I thoroughly agreed with Romans 7:18. I tried to shore things up. Re-commit. Confess any and all deficiencies. And, worst of all, follow a list of someone else's religious rules and regulations.

The specter of acknowledging my own hopelessness and helplessness caused me much fear and anxiety. I finally realized I was unable, on my own, to fix myself. I had to come face-to-face with, and accept, my own humanness.

As Paul says, what a predicament I was in. Who would save me from my slavery to this deadly lower nature? Thank God - it has been done by Jesus Christ my Lord. I will spend the rest of my life "living into" that which has already been done. That's true life, and that's true freedom.

Scars

2006-04-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

My wife has been battling brain cancer for almost 9 years. In the last 9 months alone, she had her second surgery, followed by a two-month combination of radiation and chemotherapy, and, following a month off, 6 more months of chemotherapy. Her doctor recently told her to be thinking about continuing the chemotherapy for longer, maybe a year. All of this to keep the cancer from spreading into the speech area of her brain, and to hopefully buy some time until a new therapy is developed. If a cure was found tomorrow, though, much damage has already been done.

I'm in this battle too, but not from a physical perspective. We both experience emotions like fear and anxiety, but I'm sure they are different for each of us.

Over the past 9 years, she has accumulated a number of scars, physically and emotionally. Scars on her head from two brain surgeries. A scar looking area on the top of her head from the radiation, where her hair refuses to grow back. Scars on her veins, from blood tests and chemotherapy. Scars on her brain, causing memory loss and chemical imbalances.

Maybe the worst scars are from friends and family who, because she looks pretty good on the surface, don't understand how sick she is. Some hope for a miracle; some try to fix her; and some fade away because they can't handle their own feelings of helplessness. Some people have their own problems, and some are just plain callus.

The problem with scars is they are often times not visible to anyone but the one who bears them. People may know you have them, but after awhile they forget you still have them. Loneliness and isolation are companions of those with scars.

And, we wonder, has God forgotten our scars, or is He indifferent to them?

I went to our early church service this morning by myself, as my wife was too tired. I know I need to be around people, and I like the early service because there are few people there, and it is quiet - there is no music at the early service. As I sat in that quiet church, with the sun shining through the stained glass, I began to look at those few people who had made their way to church in the early morning.

I saw a woman about my age, who I know has been battling an illness for years. She looked tired, as did her faithful husband. Another woman lost her husband years ago. Another woman lost her husband to cancer several months ago. I saw another woman who has been faithfully attending church since I was a boy. I remember her having a beautiful little daughter, but I never saw her husband with her.

Directly in front of me sat a couple with their daughter. The daughter had been in car wreck with her sister about 12 years ago, on their way to school. The sister was killed. This one lived, but she has significant brain damage. Her parents have patiently taken care of her all of these years.

I was humbled looking at all of these people. I wondered how they kept going. I wondered what kept drawing them to church. I wondered the same things about them that I wonder about me and my wife.

The Gospel reading was from the 24th chapter of Luke, where the risen Jesus is standing in the midst of his disciples. "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.

There it is. Those of us with scars are coming to the One with scars. We can identify with that One. We feel comforted by Him, and we feel understood.

"Then he opened their eyes to understand the scriptures....."

Naked Before God

2006-04-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

I can't stop wondering about the crowd that so enthusiastically welcomed Jesus' arrival in Jerusalem, only to turn against him later in the week. Not only the crowd, but the disciples themselves seemed thrown off by the events of that week, even though Jesus had told them three times of his impending suffering and death.

Then there was the young man that was wearing nothing but a linen garment. He was with Jesus, and when the soldiers tried to grab him, he literally ran out of his clothes to get away.

As I try to take in these events, I am in some small way beginning to see what was really going on. Everything the disciples, and the crowd for that matter, had been thinking, was in disarray. This good man would suffer and die an unimaginably gruesome death. For what? For my sin, that's what.

There it is - I've said it. I had a part in this whole matter.

I am suddenly faced with my own sin, and sinfulness. Like the young man in the linen garment, I am naked before God. Pride is energized when I realize what I am, and the cost that was paid for me. Do I humble myself and admit I was wrong? I hate that. All pride leaves as I agree with God that nothing good dwells in me. To be identified with Christ, I have to come face to face with the fact that sin stands in the way of God and me. And now I see that God has never taken sin lightly.

No wonder the cross is an offense. No one likes to admit they are wrong, selfish, hateful, and on and on and on. Admitting that to ourselves is like dying. Yet, that's exactly what Jesus had been trying to tell his disciples, and all of us, while he was here on earth.

To be identified with Jesus is to agree with him that we cannot save ourselves. We may like his teaching ministry, and his healing ministry, and his love. We can like all of that, and still hold on to the idea that we are pretty good people in our own right.

No wonder the crowd turned on Jesus. No wonder the world hates those who follow Jesus.

No one likes to be naked before God.

Pure Grace

2006-04-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

I try to recreate moments or feelings that meant something to me, but it is never the same. I cannot recreate any more than I can create. Grace just happens. Like manna from heaven, moments of clarity are just that - moments; acts of trying to recreate special moments are futile.

Jesus' remark about my becoming like a little child comes to mind. A child does not try to capture moments of joy. Children live in pure grace. They take every moment as a gift, experience it, and then move on.

The experience and those feelings I had on that mountain in Colorado years ago at a Young Life camp cannot be recaptured, nor should they be. I have spent parts of my life trying to return there.

'Live in the moment', I'm telling myself. Like the wind, the Spirit of God blows where it will. If I try to recapture even one of those graceful movements of God, I may camp out there, maybe form a cult around that movement, however fleeting it may have been, and I will not mature, and I will not move on towards the promised land.

The stark fear that I will never experience again what made me feel so alive keeps me in a prison of my own making - a prison where I do not trust God to provide for me.

"I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him."
Romans 12:3 (The Message)

Prime Time

2006-04-01T20:13:00.000-08:00

Talk is so cheap! I used to get really angry that no one comes to see my wife. Now, I'm just sad about the whole thing. I'm understanding that it really does cost to become involved in someone's life. It mainly costs time. And not just any time. A sick person knows when they are getting the leftovers of someone's time. No, a sick or dying person needs prime time. Real prime time, not the Deon Sanders prime time - you know, all slick and glittery with no substance; all talk - no listening.

I have a friend who helped start a bible church. Lately, it's made me sad when I call him for lunch and he tells me he has a church meeting - his prime time slot is full. Oh, it's for a good cause. Ministry, he says. Oh, really?

Maybe I'm being too hard on my friend and others. Hey, they tell me they're praying for us. I just don't remember reading where Jesus ever told anyone he would give them a rain check, or to make an appointment, because he was doing ministry and was too busy for them.

"This is how we know him (God): Whovever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did."
I John 2: 5(b)-6 (NIV)

Jesus in an MTV World

2006-03-31T12:27:00.000-08:00

The "Live 8" concert last summer made me wonder, 'why didn't God wait and put Jesus on the scene at this time in history - in the 21st century?' With all of our high-speed communications, think of the exposure Jesus and his message would have received.

Would Jesus' message have been a series of sound bites, with all sorts of experts telling us their opinions and interpretations of what he said? Would millions of young people have been convinced, and convicted, to deny themselves, pick up their crosses, and follow Christ? Could a kingdom not of this world have been birthed in the hearts of the masses? Or, at the end of the day, would we have turned off our televisions and logged-off the internet, and wondered to ourselves, 'is this guy for real; is his cause worth giving up my right to do with my life anything I choose? Hey, he's just a person on TV. I don't even know this guy personally.'

Can Jesus Christ be birthed in our hearts without someone we actually know, and trust, telling us about him?

I think Jesus came at the right time. He knew the best way to communicate who he is, and who God is - one on one.

I like rock music as much, if not more, than the average person. I couldn't help but be cynical, though, as I watched the "Live 8" concert. Whose kingdom, and what kind of kingdom, was being promoted?

Anmchara

2006-03-30T18:30:00.000-08:00

"On the first day of the week, two of Jesus' followers were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him." Luke 24:13-16

"Now, turn around. See the sunlight. Imagine a friend walking toward you while you're still in darkness, still dancing to hell's music.

Imagine a friend, what the medieval Irish called an anmchara, a person you could trust for a lifetime. They had a saying: 'Anyone without an anmchara is like a body without a head.'

Stretch your imagination. Let this person who enters the devil's dance hall be fluent in SoulTalk, someone who:

thinks beneath, who sees your real battle between the Old Way and the New Way, who knows the difference between the false gospel of religion and the true gospel of Christianity;

thinks vision, who looks at you with eyes brimming with hope, eyes that see your uniqueness and believes in who you could become;

thinks passion, who is self-aware and therefore humble, who is so broken that he is confident in the Spirit, and when you're with him, you catch a whiff of Jesus, and the fragrance is sweet;

thinks story, who patiently endures as you tell your story - as a tragedy, romance, irony, or comedy; someone who listens with transcendent curiosity and therefore can see a soul looking for God in all the wrong places, a friend whose eyes glisten with love as he rebukes and confronts and exposes, whose voice drips with grace as he directs and invites, whose words carry unshakable hope as he explores the story of your soul."
SoulTalk by Larry Crabb, pp. 213-214

It is not good when I live my life in self-obsessed religion, always doing and saying and trying to be the the "right" thing or person. Thankfully, I listened when I met my friend Dorota, and I was able to really hear and appreciate her, and ultimately, God.

Dorota is such a neat young person. But, I would have never known that, or appreciated her, except that for once in my life, I listened. Really listened.

It is my desire to be quiet - quit talking and discussing - and just listen. I have become so self-obsessed with getting everything right that I'm missing the point.

A Struggle

2006-03-30T16:55:00.000-08:00

"Follow me." (Matthew 4:18-22); "Be not afraid." (Genesis 15:1)

I was reading a blog entry by "Jane" regarding her feelings about God in the midst of tragedy, as in the case of the miners who died in West Virginia. She is angry at God, and lays out her reasons why. Her thoughts run to there being no God, or if there were, who would want a God that does not come to the aid of innocents. She concludes there must be no God.

I have a few thoughts on this regarding my own life.

First, Christ beckons me to 'follow Him', and to 'be not afraid.' Do I need belief before I follow him, or does belief follow obedience? And, am I afraid of Christ's call? Do I have faith? Is it genuine? I will probably only find out in the hard times. But, who wants hard times? Or suffering? Or rejection? Oh, and then for over 8 1/2 years I find myself in those times. Although now, they feel like regular times - one foot after another times.

Second, Jesus exhorts me to build on Him, on the Rock so to speak, so that when the hard times come, and they will, I will not find myself standing on shifting sand. I thought I was building on rock, but I must have been mighty close to the shoreline. Maybe I didn't ask the hard questions like Jane does before I started off on my little journey. Like the "count the cost" questions.

I am to walk by faith, not by sight. My trust in Christ must be ruthless. Sounds hard, but hey, I'm one of the "few and the proud", at least until I got in this firefight I'm in. Now, every time I get shot at, I'm not sure I want to go back to the front line.

Finally, when the unexplained happens, my first human reaction is often anger and rage - normal human emotions I am told by the self-help gurus. But, are my thoughts and feelings, whether in good times or bad, to be taken as proof of the existence of God, and how He intervenes in my own earthly affairs? Most of the time I would prefer a logical (to me) God rather than a mysterious God whose ways I do not understand.

However, Jane's thoughts deal more with the very nature and character of God versus how we humans deal with tragedy and heartache. Jane suggests that to be human is to ask these hard questions. Well, I am human, and I struggle with these questions. I also struggle against "pat" answers and, like Jane, with the nature and character of God.

I Ain't Much Fun Since I Quit Drinking

2006-03-28T07:56:00.000-08:00

The scripture reading at the temple today was good. Moses and the Ten Commandments. Fire on the mountain. Stiff-necked people, rebelling against 'the command of the Lord your God.'

Ever since becoming a Pharisee, I like the Ten Commandments story. Rebellion and God's wrath. That's what got my attention to begin with. I kind of knew deep inside that I wasn't all God wanted me to be. Once I started trying to follow all of the commandments, I began to see how bad people really are. They do things I would never do, at least in public. I knew I was on the right track.

I'll admit, trying to follow all of the commandments, and the rules and regulations that go along with them, is hard work. I'm never really sure where I stand with my superiors, much less with God. Sometimes I wonder what I am supposed to be obedient to; what rebellion I am to squash today. All I know is I don't want to end up like those party animals that made Moses so mad that he threw the Ten Commandments tablets on the ground and broke them.

Larry next door could have really benefited from hearing the story today. He and I talk about these things when I slip over there to taste his home brew. Larry and I went to school together, so I can pretty much be myself around him. But, Larry doesn't get it. And, he's not Pharisee material. You can't be a Pharisee and have as much fun as he does. And, he keeps bringing up this guy he met at a party - says this guy has forgotten more scripture than I'll ever know. That, by the way, is a sure tip-off that the guy, Jesus I think Larry called him, is not on the up and up. Don't get me wrong - privately I don't mind partying, and I sure don't mind quoting scripture, but just don't do both at the same time.

Larry says Jesus is telling people the Ten Commandments, and all of our rules and regulations for that matter, can be summed up by loving God and loving our neighbors. If that's true, I might be out of a job. No more enforcing God's laws for Him. On the other hand, I might be able to go to a party without feeling guilty about having fun. Having the responsibility of always judging others takes away all of the fun.

Like Larry says, I ain't much fun since I quit drinking - in public.

Go Transfigure

2006-03-27T12:23:00.000-08:00

There I was, minding my own business, and my fishing nets, when this guy walks by and tell me to "follow" him. It was more like a request than a command, though. There was something about the man that drew me to him.

I followed, and watched, and listened. Crowds were always around us, and I thought that was pretty cool. Me, a mere fisherman, being identified with this miracle worker. I had never felt so important.

Then, he hit me with something I didn't expect. This man, who had called me, began to say that if I were really going to follow him, it would involve denying myself and taking up my cross, whatever that meant, and following him. He went on to say that if I tried to save my life, I would lose it, and if lost my life for him and his story, I would gain it.

I was scared and confused. I kept thinking, 'this guy called me to follow him, and I did. Now things are really getting heavy. Forget about the crowds, and the popularity; I think I'll go back to my fishing nets - sounds safer.'

Anyway, about a week later, he tells me and and a couple of other guys to come with him up this mountain. When we get to the top, all of a sudden this man's clothes turn the brightest white I had ever seen, and these two other guys show up out of nowhere, and....it was all pretty scary. And, here's where I think I may be going crazy - I hear this voice saying this man is his son, and he is pleased with him. Hmmm.

It was as if there was another reality. I mean, I saw my friends, and at the same time I saw these dead people, and we were all alive together at the same time. And, in the middle of us all, was this man I had been following around, shining like the sun.

Somehow, I'm comforted by what I saw. I think I will hang around for a little longer. One minute this man is telling me I'll have to die to really be one of his followers, and the next minute we're up on this mountain, and I see this life that I didn't even know existed.

I know - you probably think I'm crazy. But, who cares? Everyone's been telling me that since I left my fishing nets.