Greenpastures313’s Weblog

The word of the Lord came to Jonah saying “go and preach to the wicked city Nineveh.” But Jonah ran from God, at least he tried. Had Jonah decided to go by land instead of by sea, some particular details of his story would be different but the outcome would have been the same. It’s impossible to escape God’s presence, as Jonah shortly realized. The story of Jonah includes a large fish, but his encounter with the fish isn’t the principle part of the story. That creature is merely one of several things at God’s disposal to teach Jonah what he needs to learn, what we need to learn, and that is that people are constantly in the heart of God. He created them, he loves them, even the “bad” ones, and he doesn’t desire that any of them perish. But we, like Jonah, know better, don’t we? We think we do anyway. Jonah fled from God because he knew that if he preached to the wicked city, and the city repented, then God would spare it. Jonah did not want the city to be spared. Fact is, he secretly wished for it’s fiery demise. Would God rain fire upon it, or cause it to crumble into itself in a mighty earthquake? Who knows, but Jonah was ready for the judgment to come, whatever it might be.

But the Lord captured Jonah’s attention didn’t he? Yet even then, Jonah reluctantly journeyed to Nineveh, and “preached” to its inhabitants. He didn’t beg, he didn’t plead, he didn’t wring the heart of Nineveh with tearful pleas and touching stories of God’s love and compassion. In fact, his sermon was only seven words: “Forty days and Nineveh will be overthrown.” That was it. But with that little information, the city repented of its sin and the Lord spared it. Why? Because God loves his creation. He loves you, and no way you’re on a par with the people of Nineveh. Or are you? It doesn’t matter, you see, because God loves you as he loved them. And your repentance will bring the same good mercy from God. He will forgive, even Nineveh, even you.

Summer VBS is in full swing at First Street Church in Cordele. Unlike most churches, we don’t fit it all into one week or one weekend. Rather we use our regular Wednesday night meeting time throughout June and July. It’s less tiring, and it encourages a lot of people to attend mid-week that normally don’t. We extend our time of meeting only by a few extra minutes, beginning at 7:30 pm and going till about 8:45 or 9:00. 

This year our theme is Fishing With The Master, so we’re learning how to be better “fishers of men.” Each night we usually have a comedic skit to go along with our theme. These are really fun to direct and to watch.  Last week’s story about Jonah and the big fish was hilariously prortrayed by some of our young people, one of whom actually was swallowed by a big fish on stage! (with not so subtle music from Jaws omninously playing through the sound system. Our little Zoe’ had to sit with mama during that part. No tears, but “That’s scary!”). What’s in store for tonight? We shall see!

The teenagers and Vickey entered my upstairs office this morning at 8:30 with a tray of breakfast (Zoe’ was still sleeping). Emma arranged the plate of breakfast casserole ringed with sliced strawberrys a few mini Reeses (a favorite chocolate of mine), buttered toast on the side and a cold soft drink. Too hot for coffee even that early. I felt like the president or some high potentate, eating at my desk as I thought about final touches of thought for todays worship service. Zack presented me with a giant gift bag containing gifts: a new sport coat which I immediately tried on (a perfect fit) – Zoe just entered the room and crawled into my lap. I love you too, little girl, thank you! In the bottom of the gift bag was one of the items on my Father’s Day wish list posted here a few days ago – Dave Matthews Band’s new release Big Whiskey.

I think about how blessed I am with family and friends. I thank God for times spent with my Dad, and lessons learned from him, and for you, dear reader,who choose to spend a moment of your precious time visiting us here. Thanks for reading and have a happy father’s day!

 Gabriel was born with epilepsy so severe he would never walk or talk, but would live out his days in a wheelchair. Motor skills were almost nonexistent but as he grew, he developed some ability to coordinate movements, gestures, smiles. And his smile was infectious. At fifteen, Gabe, as his parents called him, had learned to write his name, well, sort of. Whenever asked to do so, he always eagerly obliged. He began by making the letter G and he made it perfectly every time. He knew that the lower case “a” came next which he could almost create, but he could never remember to attach the tail to the letter so the “a” always looked like an “o.” Finally, he ended by writing a “b,” but again, every time, he would invert the letter so that his “b” always came out as a “d.” And with a stroke of finality to his feat, Gabe would punctuate his name with a large period. With this accomplishment, Gabe became the fount of wisdom for his parents and all who knew him, reminding them that all that matters is what Gabe could write: God. To him, that was his name, and to his mother and father who loved him more than their own lives that was the end of the matter. God, period. Got problems? God period. Got troubles and woes? God, period. Got pain, suffering, sorrow, regret, burdens? God, period. Loving Him, serving Him, praising Him, that’s the most important thing. God is your answer, period. (as told by Beth Moore, via Focus on the Family).

Somebody said that it’s not years and decades one remembers in life, but moments. Being pushed on a new bicycle and turned loose because that’s how you learn to ride without training wheels. I watched fireworks explode in the sky to the south of where we lived when I was four. Daddy corraling the dogs up in the trunk of the old brown chevy to go bird hunting, and holding me high over his head so I could ring the basketball goal. A gun shot banged loud in the night because my brother accidently discharged his .410 guage into the floor.

Not necessarily remembering every word the preacher said at the wedding, but the kiss that came at the end . . . oh man. Moments. Stepping into the aisle and stepping down into the water, new commitment, new life, new intentions and all of them good. Moments. We’ve all had them and Lord willing, we’ll have some more. There are precious moments and there are terrible moments. Hearing words like “he’s gone,” and “there’s nothing we can do,” or the phone ringing at two in the morning. Not all moments are happy.

That is why the Bible says to “be very careful, then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity [moment], because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5.15,16). Have you neglected this verse? Have you ignored opportunities to give your life to Christ? To change? It’s your moment of decision right now. Be wise.

To dwell on my good daddy (in dreams we talk)

Well raised children (already have this thanks to Vickey, but it’s a standing wish).

DMB new release, Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King.

Rogaine

Inspiration

To be able to grow something other than old (in other words, be thankful world food supply doesn’t depend on me; a farmer I’m not).

To ride that three year old filly without breaking an arm or worse (it has to be done this summer, she’s getting some size on her.)

Strawberry pie

With cool whip

A guitar (I only have four for crying out loud!)

Energy for whatever task is at hand

To truly rest in God’s grace and providence

To reunite with more friends on Facebook

For every day to feel like a Friday

To live well

Believe Enough

In the late watches of the night the old rabbi came in search of reason and understanding to the question that perplexed his mind, at times tormented it. He was a teacher of Israel, but had to confess, he was on shaky ground here. This new upstart, as he was thought of by many of the older man’s peers, was a junior rabbi, barely thirty, and yet he spoke with an ease and wisdom about him that belied his years. The older man had heard Jesus’ latest exposition on being “born again” and it intrigued him. He was determined to find out what the man meant by that, so, here he was, at night asking “how can a man be born when he is old?” Jesus answered “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.”

“But that’s no answer.”

“Yes, it is. That which is born of the flesh is flesh: that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. In other words, we resemble that by which we are born.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You are a master of Israel, and you don’t know these things? If you refuse to believe the fundamental things, the earthly things I tell you, how can you believe the spiritual things?”

The old teacher of Israel replied not. What could he say. It was true, the majority of Israel’s leaders did not believe the things this man was saying and doing, even when the evidence was undeniable.

I think he wanted to believe, but did he? We are not given that answer. But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is what you believe about Christ, about heaven, about the Spirit, about baptism, about being born again. If you believe what Jesus taught about these things, then you believe enough.

Ten K

I had to quit. Fifty minutes of nonstop running, well, it started out as running after two miles became a jog. Never a walk though, like some had settled for. But I wanted to walk so bad, to just stop for ten seconds or half a minute, or maybe a minute. I wanted the stitch in my side to abate. I wanted to lie down. Four miles gone and will it ever end? Only two point two left to go, but it might as well have been a hundred point two. My feet felt like anvils and my legs were like two lengths of four inch steel casing. Breathing hurt and sweat stung my eyes. The last mile of the way and three quarters of it on a slight upgrade. Why did I do this? I’m not a runner. I had to quit, I wanted to quit, but I shut my eyes and tried to warble in a straight line, picking up one foot, putting the other one down. I can’t do this anymore, but what’s that ahead? A line painted across the pavement and people, lots of people. They look happy, smiling and all, and they’re looking this way. There’s someone I know in the crowd, and another one I know. They wave and clap. I can see their faces a quarter mile away, a tenth of a mile. The time clock, look at it. It just turned fifty nine minutes, less than an hour, albeit just barely, but still. Gotta pick it up just a bit. Beat the sixty minute mark. I think I can do that. I did do that. Now I can stop, rest, breathe normal at last. I wasn’t first but I wasn’t last either. I didn’t stop.

“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.” (Hebrews 12.1,2).