Up to Bat

 "Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." Ps. 31:24

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."  Prov. 13:12

I watched the Franklin Graham 2020 Prayer March last Saturday. Boy, did I need that. Prayer. But more importantly, hope. It's amazing how prayer reorients you. All the negative news. All the negative speech. All the negative attitudes. All, I confess part of my life at present. It disparages. It overwhelms the good and pushes aside the positive. It's hard being positive all the time. And sometimes...just down right impossible. But hope is a very powerful antidote.

For some reason, I have been reading a lot of WWI and WWII era writings. I finished Ian Murray's biography on Archibald Brown, the successor of C. H. Spurgeon during the late 1800's up unto the beginning of WWI and then read through Banner of Truth and Trust's two volume compilation of his sermons. Wow! It was like hearing sermons written for today's struggles. I also read Ellie Wiesel's Night. My goodness...if there was ever a time to just give up and die. Some did. Many survived but were dead inside until the physical caught up with the spirit. I read it in one sitting. Captivating. Convicting. Contemplative. Man's inhumanity to man. Hope in times of absolute hopelessness. 

The great Catholic Theologian, G. K. Chesterton wrote, "Hope is hoping when  things are hopeless or it is no virtue at all. As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength." 

I saw this first hand when I worked with Hospice as a guest pastor. Those who were terminal and had no hope died very quickly. Those who had hope lived and some even recovered to the amazement of the medical community. 

Theologically, I know this. When the spirit is willing but the body is weak, it will keep pressing forward. But when the spirit is weak and gives up hope, the body will quickly follow. 

There is a story of a little boy who was hospitalized with a very serious illness, each day getting worse, each day giving up. His school, along with his parents, asked his teacher if she would be willing to go up and make sure that he kept up on some of his school work. If nothing more, it was a distraction from the seriousness of his illness. The boy made an amazing recovery and the doctors asked him what changed. He said, "Well...I was about to give up hope of getting better but then they sent my teacher up to teach me about nouns and verbs. I thought, 'If I was dying, why would I need to learn about nouns and verbs.'" 

Hope is a powerful thing. 

A man approached a little league baseball dugout and asked one of the boys what the score was. He said with a smile, "We're losing eighteen to zero." The stranger said, "How can you be so happy about that?" The boy said, "Well, pretty soon we'll be up to bat!"

Hope is a pretty power thing. 

Don't be discouraged. We'll soon be up to bat. 

Taming the Beast

 "My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires."

I was reading the latest edition of the Pennsylvania Game News that brother Earl gives to me after he's finished perusing and came across an interesting article about raccoons - "masked bandits." 

Belonging to the family class named, "Procyonidaes" (don't you just love learning new words you can use at Thanksgiving!), they are nocturnal, have 3-5 offspring called "kits" (refer once again to the above parenthetical), have five fingers that they use much like a human, are Covid-ready in that they prefer to wash their hands and food before eating, and they have retractable claws that are much stronger than our finger nails. And...they are soooooo cute. You just want to cradle them like a little baby and give them a bottle of milk while gazing into those big brown eyes. 

Oh...one more thing...they are vicious and are the second most infectious carriers of rabies next to bats. They have been known to attack deer when pursuing food (legal bait sold that is illegal to use 😜 ), when cornered or when you get between it and her young. In other words, they're not pets. They're animals with attitudes. It is how they survive, especially down in Philly where they are having a raccoon population problem because of the amount of free food and housing.  

My animal attitude has been coming out of late and I'm not alone. I feel threatened by BLM, Antifa, irresponsible neighborhood dog owners, and politics in general but I won't even go there. I feel like I'm under attack as a white, male, conservative, Christian, non-dog owner in ways that I have never felt before. Seeing old people in Portland and in Seattle being blocked from crossing the street by thugs masquerading as social justice proponents. Threatening to burn down homes that display the American flag. Stupid Covid requirements that have nothing to do with public safety but with public control and politics. Deep breath. I feel the beast rising. And yes, dogs barking as soon as I step outside of my house. 

I don't have an answer to the BLM/Antifa/non-stop barking dogs problem...well, I do and they're both fully loaded. Whoops. There I go again. Let's start over. I don't have an answer to the BLM/Antifa/dog problem but God does. He very clearly tells me to listen...listen to the genuine concerns but listen more closely to the heart. They are unbelievers. They are in need of salvation. They need Jesus, not conjured up demonic spirits promoting a spirit of lawlessness. And...they're going to need that dog when I'm in heaven and they are stuck here on earth with the Antichrist. 

Be slow to speak. Amos 5:13 says, "Therefore the prudent keep quiet in such times, for the times are evil." 

Be slow to become angry because it doesn't produce the righteousness that God desires. I am reminded of the description that Peter gives me of Jesus - "When they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly." 

I want to be like Jesus. I'll be in prayer. I'll repent of my sinful anger. I'll listen. I'll be slow to speak. I'll trust the Lord. I might even buy a box of dog treats...mmmmm...I don't think so. 

He's still working on me and the raccoons.  

 

Spotted Lantern Fly

 "Jesus replied, 'No one who puts hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom." (Luke 9:62)

Ah, the beauty of those little bugs. We thought we had escaped them this year. Grey spotted wings. Red underlying wings with a rich yellow body. Lighting everywhere. Laying eggs all over for another year of plague. Another gift from Asia to the world. The Spotted Lantern Fly. 

The Spotted Lantern Fly "is a planthopper that is indigenous to parts of northern China, Taiwan, and Vietnam. Although it has two sets of wings, it hops more than it flies." It goes after grapes and fruit trees laying its eggs in mass - between 30-50. It also produces a sugary sap that turns into a black type of mold that will eventually kill the tree or plant. 

What I find fascinating is that its hard to kill the darn things with your foot. We finally figured out that they must have eyes in the back of their heads and somewhat blind in the front. If you try to sneak up on them, they jump. If you face them...squish. My back patio is often littered with the carcasses of my insect dance. I'm assuming this is what the neighbors are observing as they see me moving my feet up and down in a strange, and unnatural motion, trying to get in front of them as they keep turning to keep their back toward me. Given a feathered head dress and an animal skinned drum, I could do a good imitation of a first nations dance routine or maybe a good start to some good ole Pennsylvania clogging. 

I find that too many Christians live like this. Always looking backward so as to not get hurt but losing out on life because they neglect to look forward. Yes, those who do not remember the past are destined to repeat it. I'm not suggesting that we do. But I had a dear friend who said to me, "There is a reason the windshield in your car is much larger than the rear view mirror." Live for what's ahead while once in a while checking to see if something is creeping up on you from the back or the side. 

Jesus was pretty straight forward to those seeking to follow after him. If you want to follow me, take up your cross daily. If you want to follow me, your family has to come second. If you want to follow me, know that the things of this world cannot be a passion for you. If you want to follow me, grab hold of the plow and make a straight line while holding on to your oxen. I don't want any farmers who look back while trying to plow, i.e. I don't want a person who is always looking to their past life while trying to live for me. It won't work. 

Isaiah tells us to forget the past and to look for what God is doing in the present for a blessed future. 

We haven't been designed to merely jump but to fly. 

Solution:  Stomp away. 

 

Faithfall

"As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, will never cease." (Genesis 8:22)

Ah, the lazy days of summer are about ready to go into winter hibernation but not without the transition of Fall. I don't know how others sense it but its in the air for me. I think botanists call it "tree mold" but I prefer to call it my favorite time of the year (allergies not included). 

Warm days. Cool nights. Crickets. Cicadas (how they get that loud I'll never understand). Changing of the leaves to their true colors. Mums. Fried pumpkin donuts with cinnamon glazed frosting (definition of heaven). Pumpkin milk shakes. Pumpkin cereal. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin...enough with the pumpkin flavors. Oh...and pumpkin pie (reserved for Thanksgiving). And as a farmer...the harvest. The culmination of your work and the visible result of the grace and mercy of God. 

In normal ministry time, this would be the most stressful time of the year, with the exception of December. All the ministries would be in full operation. The church doors would have been open to someone almost every night of the week. I would have already had meeting exhaustion by now. But alas, the halls are still quiet. The building is dark most nights. The young voices screaming with delight as they play in Beatrice Hall are silent. It feels like we have been robbed of the harvest as we stare at a barren, empty field. Not true, of course. The apples are still on the trees. They are just in backyards and in other orchards. Seeds we planted that have borne fruit. We just have to look a little harder for them. We have to go get them rather than they come to us. 

This is interesting to me because Fall brings the sense that things are not beginning, but things are coming to a close. Sometimes that is a good thing. Sometimes things have to close, to die, in order to be reborn. Everything has its season. It has been the blessing of this epidemic. Rebirth. New ideas. Creative ministry. Better congregational care. Intentional care. Intentional ministry. Evaluation. Introspection. Forced change. 

Change. I think this is part of what God was trying to communicate to Noah after the devastating flood. Change was what God was promising. Change was the hope. Change was/is meant to be a blessing. 

As long as this earth endures, God will faithfully bring forth the seasons and with it change. It is a reminder that we truly are blessed that God does not leave things the way they are.

He, indeed, is a faithfall God.  

 

Porch Swings

 "Now, brothers, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders. But this is how God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, saying that his Christ would suffer. Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Christ, who has been appointed for you - even Jesus. He must remain in heaven until the time comes for God to restore everything as he promised long ago through his holy prophets." (Acts 3:17-20). 

"Times of refreshing." I always took that phrase to be something that I could attain in the present but I can't think of the last time that was true for me. A holy discontent. Jesus said, [I paraphrase] "Come apart before you come apart." Thank God for vacations. But even then I don't think I experience what is intended for me. Get a bunch of sinners together, redeemed though they may be, and there is still conflict, negative talk, different food, and a bed that's hard to sleep on each night. 

Refreshing. I think I received a little taste of this on a bench swing at my in-laws this week. Mid 70's. Overcast. Slight breeze. Eyes periodically closed. Nature sounds. A good biography on Archibald Brown (ca. late 1800's). But then I came to the section where all kinds of church strife came into his life. Denominational splits. His best friend, Charles H. Spurgeon dying as well as two of Brown's wives and several children. Cultural changes that saw people disinterested in the things of God. Reminders of the stress of this world. Book closed. Eyes closed. Elusive refreshment. Deep breath. Almost.

Reminded me of simpler times when I was a kid, sitting out on the back porch on what seemed like a ten person black bench swing with my cousin, Beth, whom I thought I would surely marry. My grandmother's very large apartment was located on top of a liquor store right on the main street of town. We all (my mother's side of the family) have such fond memories of that place. It was noisy but it was quiet. The lights of the nearby filling station shone brightly and offered just enough light for us to see each other. The weekend cruisers went up and down the street. And yet there was a sense of tranquility. Peace. No one said anything. We just were. Swinging. Gently. Rhythmically. Great memories from a farm kid of the big city. 

Our vacations are usually spent driving back to Indiana to visit family since we live so far away - its nice, but its draining for me. It was nice to not have all of the work deadlines but that darn phone keeps dinging with people sending texts and notifications. They generally start out with, "I know your on vacation but..." It's okay. I love those people and ministry is not a job but a life for me. But the spiritual tank was near empty when I left and not much came home. I'm tired. That's okay. 

You see, that verse on refreshment is not for this world. There is a rest for me, for us, but its when Jesus comes to take us home. He helps us bear the burden in this world but relieves us of it in the next. It's my hope, our hope. 

I thought about joining a monastery but I do love the company of my dear wife. And...I have read enough of Church history to know that they are fraught with the same tensions and stress of the world. You're just locked in and have to eat veggies the rest of your life. 

I thought about another dangerous mission trip to a 3rd world Muslim country but the danger would actually be riding in the plane for that long with Covid recirculating air. 

A nap sounds good but effects the body more than the soul. 

The swing it is...and a daily hope for His coming. And wouldn't you know it...its raining. Maranatha!