"In a pit with a Lion on a snow day"...lessons garnered from another

“Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada, a fighting-man of Kabzeel, had done great acts; he put to death two young lions going into their secret place; and he went down into a hole and put a lion to death in time of snow. And he made an attack on an Egyptian, a very tall man about five cubits high, armed with a spear like a cloth-worker's rod; he went down to him with a stick, and pulling his spear out of the hand of the Egyptian, put him to death with that same spear. These were the acts of Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada, who had a great name among the thirty men of war. He was honoured over the thirty, but he was not equal to the first three: and David put him over his servants.” (1 Chronicles 11:22-25 BBE)

A co-worker with whom I have some theological debates from time to time hurried over to me Monday morning as we prepared to work and said, “Who was in charge of David’s bodyguards?” I couldn’t come up with a name, although I knew the exploits of the Mighty Men of David and their existence….men who came to him as ‘men in distress, in debt and embittered in spirit,’ (1 Samuel 22:1-2) numbering 30 among about 400 men of similar dispositions and did great deeds under David, their Captain and future King. We tried to find the reference that my friend had heard, but couldn’t so I asked him for the church’s website to see if I could pull the sermon or audio off the site to study this suddenly perplexing question and see where God was leading me in this. I sent the pastor a message requesting sermon paper or audio.

Pastor John Lane, shepherd of the Bedford Free Methodist Church in Bedford, Indiana, was quick and gracious in his response…..apologizing for the technical difficulties with the audio that caused no recording to be available but who was nice enough to send me a copy of his rough notes for the sermon, prepared for Father’s day and entitled “In A Pit With A Lion On A Snow Day.”

The name that escaped me was Benaiah, which means “Built up by Jehovah.” He was son of Jehoiada, the chief priest, who was set by David over his personal bodyguards of Cherethites and Pelethites (2Sa_8:18; 1Ki_1:32; 1Ch_18:17). The Cherethites, as a people, were the inhabitants of Southern Philistia (Philistines) and many believe they were the ‘executioners’ of David’s decrees. The Pelethites, as a people, were believed to be another group of Philistines and are only mentioned in conjunction with the Cherethites. The word is believed to mean “couriers or runners” and it is that function that many theologians attribute to them. Both groups were standing with the enemy of their countrymen, protecting the very source of that army’s strength and power……in human terms. And Benaiah was the captain of them…in charge of this powerful young man named David. This service would extend to David’s son, Solomon where he would appointed as ‘commander-in-chief’ of the Israelite Army. From a ‘broken’ refugee to the most powerful warrior in the entire nation’s army…..all under the leadership of a man ‘after God’s own heart, built up through the work of the Holy Spirit…..

As I read Pastor Lane’s notes, a powerful sermon for the fathers of the modern age, the image came to my mind of the movie 300, in the opening moments of the tale where the one-eyed solider speaks of the Spartan practice of growing warriors….mighty and powerful warriors….by throwing them out into the wilderness. A young leonius, future King of Sparta who would stand against Xerxes of the Esther tale, is armed with only a spear and is set upon by a mountain lion….he is hungry and cold…..and afraid, to a degree. He uses his terrain against the beast and triumphs, skinning the animal and returning to his people victorious. Much like Lane speaks in his sermon, the focus of which is the defeat of the lion in a pit on a snowy day…..fear is felt but not allowed to control the actions and desire of the young warrior (Benaiah as well as Leonius). The spirit within the young Spartan demands and empowers him to stand in the face of overwhelming odds….The lion is mightier in mass and strength, speed and agility….to overcome this certainty of death. He becomes the King who can command three hundred warriors to stand against a sea of thousands upon thousands of enemy combatants in the assurance of death’s embrace.

In our wilderness, thrust out (unfairly it may seem) by God and similarly apparently alone, we face our lions in the barren harshness of the worldly landscape armed with only a spear…..hungry, cold, tired and our limbs laced with fear…..with only the hope to keep us warm and the spirit’s prompting to move our feet as we stumble backwards against the oncoming assault of the massive beast of our sinfulness……seeking a way out, a salvation that seems will never come…..and, as the beast snarls in unholy rage at the mountain sides that prevent it from reaching us, its prey, striking with a true and desperation-driven thrust……and returning home victorious, our testimony speaking of God’s provision, strength and hope given to us in our need. Too few have only one or two wilderness experiences that drive us into a more dependent and intimate relationship with God….others, like me, require more……much more….coming out at the end something greater than we could ever be without the repetition, servant-warriors of the One, True King.

Benaiah faces his wilderness ‘shaping’ in, as Pastor Lane points out in the biblical text, the form of two Moabite warriors (their best, no some run-of-the-mill conscripted warriors), an Egyptian 7 and ½ feet tall armed with only a ‘stick’ while that giant carried a ‘spear like a weaver’s rod,’ (Lane offers a visual comparison…..Shaquille O’Neal is 7 feet 1 inch tall with a wingspan of 7 inches and a reach of 9 and ½ feet standing) and a lion (Lane gives us some stats; common foe of shepherds in that day, 8-10 feet long, 416 average pounds, capable of 50 miles an hour in short distances and a roar that can be heard 5 miles away) in a pit on a snowy day. From the man represented in 1 Samuel to the warrior declared mighty and his feats proclaimed in 1 Chronicles and then Commander-in-chief of the whole of Israel’s armies in 1 Kings.

As Pastor Lane points out, Benaiah teaches us that we are not called to safety, avoidance of fear or even a 'comfortable' retirement in this life, as men. Our attempts at establishing a boring life of safety, avoiding our 'wilderness experiences' wrought with fear and seeking a life of simple comfort in the elder days of our lives are foolish to attempt and absent of God's enticement to join Him in the work He would have us do. The goal of masculinity, of all of God's children, is to be faithfulness Lane points out….encountering our lions (those situations that we'd like to avoid but need to be confronted). In a life pleasing to God, we must face the best of the Moabites (modern day representation….lusts of the flesh…), our giants (the worldliness of Egypt) and the lions (Lane quotes 1 Peter 5:8 "your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion"). How do we, as broken men who haven't had an example per se of godly masculinity, be a Benaiah?

We each have our Davids in our lives. We each have our 'three mightier men' that even our best cannot match. Men who have heard the yearning of their David's and sought out the simple desires in the face of overwhelming odds, showing a faithfulness to David and ultimately to the God he serves. Men who fight their battles with lions, giants and the fallenness of the world with the throbbing passion of faith…..Israel's God, David's God, their God….the True God…..is alive and victorious yesterday, today and tomorrow. Men who move in the face of overwhelming fear, certain defeat and looming death to walk in the purpose of God and perform the work to which He calls us all.

Though my exploits aren't even close to the mighty deeds performed by my 'three' and my spiritual leadership cannot even come to measure against my 'David', I stand counted by these men as one among them…..…the few who girth themselves in the armor of the Lord and step into the world to bring the truth and light to all who are stained in the darkness of their sins and the blindness of the enemy's grasp. Men, who recognize that the battle isn't of a physical nature but a spiritual one, and who move despite the fear to face the enemy. A band of brothers, who fight alongside each other, living a life unsafe, robbed of comfort's laziness and struggle fully in the light of day in faithfulness to be examples for themselves, each other and those they know in the darkness of night. For the wives to which they must live, the sons to which they must teach, and the daughters to which they must represent godly manhood in the ordained, created and designed model that God sets forth in the Word.

Men who don't claim superiority, but humility, in these efforts to live a godly design. Men who, like the mighty men of David's time, speak not of their exploits nor boast in their victories but simply move as God has called them to, without claiming the glory that is God's alone but with the intentionality of providing Him with the testimony of that Glory. Men who live what they believe, represent what they have faith in and empower the generations to come with the truth.

I know who my David is, who the 'three mightier than the mighty men' are, and even the second tier of heroes that walk in the landscape of this world…..and there are my brothers in arms who stand with me in the spiritual battles that men were built to fight; to bless those around them.

I will not fear, I will not run and I will not turn from the struggle to be an example to my children of the man God made me to be. Will you?

This morning, when I went to the website of the church, I was impressed with the ‘motto’ if you will of this distant part of the family of God (in physical distance that is)…..”Empowered through Christ, we will Serve, Save, Strengthen and Send” Serving the community, introducing saving faith to others, strengthen believers and sending loving people into the world to ‘repeat’….it is seldom that you see such an impactful statement in the churches of this western culture today and it would be interesting to see how effective they are being in faithful execution to their god-purposed mission. There are so few churches that are empowering the body with the good fruit of the Gospel that the masses are surrendering to the bondage of the enemy just to be able to eat unclean food. The Bedford FM church’s website is www.bedfordfmc.org . I’d recommend a look and a visit if you are in the area.

Refreshed for the journey....

"[Elijah] then walked another whole day into the desert. Finally, he came to a large bush and sat down in its shade. He begged the LORD, "I've had enough. Just let me die! I'm no better off than my ancestors." Then he lay down in the shade and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel woke him up and said, "Get up and eat." Elijah looked around, and by his head was a jar of water and some baked bread. He sat up, ate and drank, then lay down and went back to sleep. Soon the LORD's angel woke him again and said, "Get up and eat, or else you'll get too tired to travel." So Elijah sat up and ate and drank. The food and water made him strong enough to walk forty more days. At last, he reached Mount Sinai, the mountain of God, and he spent the night there in a cave. While Elijah was on Mount Sinai, the LORD asked, "Elijah, why are you here?" He answered, "LORD God All-Powerful, I've always done my best to obey you. But your people have broken their solemn promise to you. They have torn down your altars and killed all your prophets, except me. And now they are even trying to kill me!" "Go out and stand on the mountain," the LORD replied. "I want you to see me when I pass by." All at once, a strong wind shook the mountain and shattered the rocks. But the LORD was not in the wind. Next, there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. Then there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. Finally, there was a gentle breeze, and when Elijah heard it, he covered his face with his coat. He went out and stood at the entrance to the cave. The LORD asked, "Elijah, why are you here?" Elijah answered, "LORD God All-Powerful, I've always done my best to obey you. But your people have broken their solemn promise to you. They have torn down your altars and killed all your prophets, except me. And now they are even trying to kill me!" The LORD said: Elijah, you can go back to the desert near Damascus. And when you get there, appoint Hazael to be king of Syria. Then appoint Jehu son of Nimshi to be king of Israel, and Elisha son of Shaphat to take your place as my prophet. Hazael will start killing the people who worship Baal. Jehu will kill those who escape from Hazael, and Elisha will kill those who escape from Jehu. But seven thousand Israelites have refused to worship Baal, and they will live." (1 Kings 19:4-18 CEV)

Elijah, one of the great prophets of Israel's history, who followed in the footsteps of one seemingly even mightier than he was, was finished.....the road of following God's purpose defeating him and bringing his own humanity into death's grip. So he ran.....as far and as fast as he could until exhaustion seemed to overtake him and he fell asleep under the shade of a tree, his mind shutting down from the stress of what he was running from. God, nothing more than the confrontation that God was bringing by Elijah's prophecying. God is a pretty mighty foe to run from. He had reached the 'breaking point' of his humanity and wanted it finished, over with. Elijah and I are soul brothers in this feeling.

The nails are removed from the boards that I had sealed the door to that childhood home I once 'lived' in human terms but where my spirit, in Christ's terms (or Eldridge's terms), died at the hand of the despot ruler of the kingdom contained within the walls of the Wormer home......that is where the atrocities of the King happened....the apartment in Ferndale on the street off of Woodward where he served as a landlord tenant still stands but there is only one of the happy memories of my mother...that short fiery woman of Polish descent....stirring a big shiny pot on the stove in the tiny kitchen and an innocent little boy asking shyly what she was cooking and her response that was made in jest but had frightened that little one so bad he didn't want to eat it....."My witch's brew". The shock and guilt that flashed across her face when she realized the fear that it caused was one of the many faces that her love showed in the years that I was blessed to have her in my life.

The giants pound on the walls of that house on Wormer, in the shadow of St. Paul's monastary, as if they can smell the very blood that flows in my veins and remember the delicious taste of my young soul....wanting it more, since they haven't been fed in years and years since I've nailed the door shut and tried my best to make the vision of the King's prophecies come true. I shake with a fear that comes from the core of my being....sweat from the incredible heat that seems to consume even the sweet air of the Lord's gifting of the Counselor making my body try and regulate my body's overheating condition. The knob in my hand, to the front door on that little porch that was in front of the house, seems to turn against my will...my hand is actually straining to keep it closed..."Oh, tried it," I'd say, "but it was locked up tight. So sorry Lord." It opens, the creaking reaching down into my soul with naily barbs to run fresh wounding jagged lines into the depth of my soul. I can imagine the depth of Christ's cry when His Heavenly Father had to turn His back on Him....the despair that formed the words, "My God, My God! Why have you forsaken Me!"

The darkness is total, though the sun is high in the sky...nothing prenetrates the soul of this house. Nothing good, at least. What is God doing in this place, why must I travel the roads that are best forgotten and erased? To face my father is to face myself, to find accountability for his actions and inactions to hold myself to account for those actions, for I share too much of him to disassociate myself even if I could try. The door is open.....and I am of Elijah's "Kill me, I''ve had enough!"

I don't want to go in; to face the reaction of the man who hated so much the curse of having a son who looked like him but was so much 'weaker' than he would ever be or ever was. A boy who was prone to 'daydreaming' because there could be no illness in his family...from his seed. Even when the epliepsy was diagnosed, after I fell off the kitchen table and bit off my tongue (or at least bit it badly)....it was unacceptable for him. It would set the tone for our relationship all of my life, until the week before he died of a massive heart explosion (doctor's words). I told him that I had given up on trying to please him and be like him, and of hating him for seeing his face in the mirror each morning.....I had come to bury the hatchet. He seemed surprised that I would ever think that he would be disappointed in me. Apparently the life I led was as much a mystery to him as it was to me in that childhood; a father divorced from his family for the sake of work....classic Lewis. But, an accounting was never given and so resolution and redemption never obtained. A week later, my sister called with the news.

"These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." John 16:33

I fear to face those giants contained within these walls; the images haunting my sleep and my waking hours, yet Christ overcame the world and therefore I have within me, as kinsmen, the same ability.

But God knows me so well and knows this journey home is impossible without Him and even then, it will have to stretch my faith and my relationship with Him to new depths. He knows the journey ahead into the darkened depths of this house will cost me in strength, pain and anguish...so He gives me the grace to refresh at each turn, each discovery, to come to a place where an accounting is given, responsibility assigned and then healing through the forgiveness of a absent father who created a ghost son can be more real and encompassing that it was before. He promises me, and so I refresh before I enter.

"When we choose to believe the promises of God, we will have the strength to endure all the broken promises of the world." Teresa Ortiz tells us in her blog, "If we set our hearts and minds on heavenly things – Knowing and loving God by studying His word, and loving people, He promises to walk with us through our trials – or carry us when we can no longer stand."

God has shown me, in the end of this journey, what prizes He has for me to give; the ability to walk into the darkness of another's soul and sit within with them speaking God's love, provision, and strength until they too obtain that which God has brought them to get and freedom from sin, from humanly assigned purposes and from the past are realized under the flowing water of Christ's sacrifice. This is the taste of heaven we can have on earth.

This is the song He has begun to teach me in the gathering darkness of the past, as a journey into its depths is begun and the end of it comes into sight....to sing, to praise and to worship the I AM in the blessings of His friendship, His love and His promises. For when I walk into the purpose to which He calls me, these things I will need to know in the depth of my heart so that I can give it to others in their need, in their journeys.........

"You have turned 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

For the few who will be saved through the telling of my story, through the encompassing of my smaller story in the greater context of God's bigger story......through the trials, tribulations and destruction of a dead and dying world as man walks further and further from God's hand...

Oh Lord, let me speak that they hear You, let me live that they see You and let me die that they might see that You live........not in the storm, earthquake or tempest but in the gentle wind that comes before it....speaking the promises of Your love into the souls in need of refreshment...


AMEN

A house of horrors and seeking the beloved...

"No one will be able to oppose you successfully as long as you live. I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will never neglect you or abandon you. Be strong and courageous, because you will help these people take possession of the land I swore to give their ancestors. "Only be strong and very courageous, faithfully doing everything in the teachings that my servant Moses commanded you. Don't turn away from them. Then you will succeed wherever you go. Never stop reciting these teachings. You must think about them night and day so that you will faithfully do everything written in them. Only then will you prosper and succeed. "I have commanded you, 'Be strong and courageous! Don't tremble or be terrified, because the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.'"" (Joshua 1:5-9 GW)

"Spiritual strength and energy, the courage of faith," John Darby says, "are necessary, in order that the heart may be bold enough to obey, may be free from the influences, the fears, and the motives which act upon the natural man....."

When God introduced this verse to me yesterday, I felt it was a precusor to the battle that lies ahead in confronting the church in its duplicity within the worldly realm of humanism and the particularly bitter wounds that it has visited upon me in my pursuit of my ministry calling. That is what I was going to blog about, but I never felt the easiness of the words flowing nor was able to contribute the time to 'coax' them out. Usually, as if one would think I should automatically realize by now, that means that the intent I heard behind the word wasn't God's but my own.

Last night, I had the priviledge of sitting with some of my band of brothers under the tutelage of John Eldridge, author of Wild at Heart (and a wealth of other books) and the Ransomed Hearts Ministries. My brother in Christ, Kurt, had purchased tickets and a friend from the Awanas program was willing to watch my son while I attended this Monday meeting. Though I have read and felt there was some worth to Eldridge's books, I've felt that he never really was 'deep' enough for me. Didn't have the answers, the formulas, or the ideas I needed to grow. I truly only attended because I have learned that when God moves my brother to do something, usually there is a collision coming.....between me and a point God wants me to confront.

I humbly submit that I was wrong about John Eldridge and the wisdom that he writes within his books.....the effectiveness and passion of the man is not found there.....to experience the story behind the stories, you really have to see him in person. And listen to him tell a story; of boyhood, of the cowboy, of the warrior, the king and the sage.

He is but another teacher, abiet a more distant one than my current teacher, God is using to entice me and countless other men to allow God to bring true masculinity and spirituality into their lives. Like Lewis of Men's Fraternity, Dr. Crabb, Dallas Willard, Matt Lobel of Out of the Wild, and the group of Mighty Able Men; Kurt, Ken, Randy, and Scott. Some are willing to fight alongside me, to live life in its imperfectness with me. Others speak wisdom, enticing me to turn around and face that which has devastated and crushed that 'boy' of so long ago. Most are willing to stand and hold me up, edifying me when I question my own validity in this pursuit. All call every man to battle the fierce giants that stomp unchecked in their lives and prevent them from being fathered by the Father.

My brother in Christ and I had a long talk on the trip back to my car, and the tasks of single parenthood; picking up my son, going home, getting him to sleep, and working on getting myself to the same state....to do another day, to step out into the world that is reality in a broken world. Swirling images, bitterness, and mourning complicated those tasks. They still do today and may for some time. The giant isn't the church in its humanity, but the wounded soul of a boy.

And he looks bigger and stronger than that puny giant that the church has become.

How prophetic it seems now, my son's desire out of the blue to 'know where his father came from', to visit the old neighborhood....to see where his dad did the 'generalities' of life (school, home, friends, adventures). The house on Wormer still stands, I'm sure, though I have not travelled down that street in years although I have been in that neighborhood because my children's mother lived there with her boyfriend for a time. The images of what lies hidden within that house, in the past of its history, are more vivid today than they were growing up.........more powerful and more frightening than they ever had the weight of as a child. Unless the current or previous owners have gutted it completely, I can walk the layout; the front room, the short hallway that contained the two first floor bedrooms (my parent's and my younger sister's) and the bathroom (only one for a family of five). At the juncture of that hallway, a opening from the living room, the dark recess of the short hall, the opening for the kitchen and right behind you (facing that darkned hall) is the door to the upstairs. To the world I lived in and the one I still cling to today. Four walls containing the world I knew and haven't allowed change to come to....Johnny Horton's album playing over and over upon the LP player I somehow had, "North to Alaska....we're going north, the rush is on." Calling me to an adventure of risk and dangers untold....

I faced that house when I was invited to share with my (as of tomorrow) ex-wife during a marriage retreat; the parent-child dialogue that brought it into my view for the first time since the family no longer called it home. Like the Amityville Horror, its eyes gazed unwaveringly out at me as I stood on the sidewalk, as if to say....'Come, enter your house of horrors and be damned.' The totality of its reality brought full force into my mind, elicting a gasp from my mouth from it's impact.....that trip into that house of my broken childhood to face the specter of who claimed the name father was a bitter, heart-breaking, and sorrowful experience. In front of other couples, to boot. Shutting the door on that was a relief....a bone-felt, marrow deep relief.

And God wants me to go back. There is, as my BIC said, unfinished business within its smoke-stained, plastic-covered furnitured, and darkened halls.

I'm not afraid to say I'm down right frightened beyond the point of reality, the image after haunting image bouncing like richocheting bullets (equally as damaging) inside the recess of my mind. In the kingdom of my father, even the court jester had it better than I.

The sins of my father, the cruelity of the verbal and emotional abuse that was visited upon the middle son, for no other reason than the luck of the draw in my birth. For I bore the face of the king of that painfully dark realm and earned the wrath of it because I wasn't what he thought I should be. Not the genius of my elder brother nor the mechanical inate abilities of the younger. Any desire to protect that was biologically supposed to be engrained, as evidenced in my sister, was bleached away in the inadequacey and diasppointment of a father towards the son who's image was his own. Who was weak, a daydreamer with no discernable talent, a weakling with a handicap, and yet, in the cruelest twist of fate, bore his own image. Unlike the other sons, here was the one most like him physically and so far from what he felt a son of his should be.

Now I can understand why my mother (not the one of birth, but the one who raised me) was so angry at my father for the picture he chose when I was at the Hall of the Divine Child military school.....my dress cap was down low enough to cause a shadow to cover my upper facial features. Everyone else''s was clear. As if to hide the fact that I was his son. And that is the only place I was worthy to live, to be allowed to live, was in the shadows where such horror couldn't be seen by the light of day.

It struck me as odd when I visited that house on that day along the shore of the western side of Michigan that the images of the others in that house were shrouded in mystery or blurry snapshot-like glances as I walked that short, dark hallway towards my father's room....no clear images of my brothers, no memories of what we did---as all young children do---no adventures, no shared friends, no memories exists in the fabric of my mind of such things. A younger version of my birth mother, the memory of caring for me when I was stung by a bee doesn't float to the surface of the wreckage.....my sister, in her younger years.....nothing. It struck me as Scott brought my ex and I closer to that dialogue experience how much of my memories of that house were like that of a ghost, a wraif, a creature who had no weight.

Eldridge said that God has a way of bringing us back to those stages of masculinity that have been skipped, tarnished, and unfinished because His whole desire is to finish the unfinished man. And each stage interlocks with the others for the necessary foundation of it all. If a boy isn't treasured and given the understanding that he is the Beloved son of the father.....life will remain unfinished; bitter and broken. Because God wants to father the fatherless; even those who's biological dad remains a part of their lives.

In that house of my childhood, sheathed in darkness and foreboding.....where the crimes and abusive parenting left bleeding and dying upon the floor of its altars the body of the beloved son......God, in all His immortal craziness, calls me to go. I stand upon the stop in the grass I can still find today where I fell asleep in the front of this house; failing to keep this man from leaving or even acknowledging my sobbing pleas as he got into that pea-green station wagon and left.....and where the burn from that event remains today an indentifying mark upon my arm----standing there frozen in fear and loathing. The house of my horror, the house of my unfinished masculinity.

This is where God calls me to go and where even angels fear to tread.

One might wonder what this has to do with the verse quoted above.... Imagine, Joshua lived under the guidance and 'protection' of the massive figure of Moses. He was free from the weight of responsibility and doubt, those were Moses' burdens to bear as he brought the Israelites through 40 years in the desert. Now, suddenly on the cusp of realization of the Promised Land, Moses is gone...and Joshua takes the mantle of leading a people. There is no indication that Joshua knew of Moses' ban nor that he would assume such heavy responsibility.

As this duty passes on to him, there isn't silence. God boldly steps into the face of his fears, worries, and doubts and tells him to do what he knows to do and that the promises and assurances He gave Moses will be Joshua's to have. God will walk with us into the face of our fears, whispering words of strength, encouragment and power into our frozen feet and our paralyzed minds.

D.L. Moody says that many of the promises God has given to His people, to us, "seem to be pretty pictures of an ideal peace and rest, but are not appropriated as practical helps in daily life. And not one of these promises is more neglected that the assurance of salvation. An open Bible places them within reach of all, and we may appropriate the blessing which such a knowledge brings."

John Darby said, "The most difficult path, that which leads to the sharpest conflict, is but the road to victory and repose, causing us to increase in the knowledge of God. It is the road in which we are in communion with God, with Him who is the source of all joy; it is the earnest and the foretaste of eternal and infinite happiness."

As my knowledge of God increases and the desire to be His grows, I will face such giants that have been familiar companions in my life, but stand in the way of realizing God's love for me.

What holds you back from the love of God? Are you aware that you are Beloved and Purposed? What demons must you conquer to be in the peace and contentment of the eternal promise?

I know one I must explore and lay to rest..........the Prodigal is going home...........

Slopping for the pigs......

"But when he came to himself, he said, 'How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants."' And he arose and came to his father." (Luke 15:17-20a ESV)

There is no time frame given in which the prodigal son is slopping the pigs, wishing for food that is only fit for them and their substance. This story is often used to help understand the process of salvation; we realized that we have sinned and are absent from the relationship with our Father, The repenting sinner turns with firmness and resolution from the bondage of Satan and his worldly lusts and returns to God through prayer...."notwithstanding fears and discouragements," Matthew Henry says. He returns to take the servant's role, to the Father's rejoicement and restoration to his place in the home.

But, as I have travelled this journey, slopping for the pigs who are placed so much more highly than myself in this world (who are of the world) I wonder if God didn't intend for the message contained there to stop with the repentant sinner and the joyful celebration of his return home. There is so much more contained within the story of his conversion. Pastor Jim Combs, of the River of Faith, brought another context a few Sundays ago, about the elder son and the prodigal and how that should be reflected between mature and newborn Christians (I'd recommend listening to it www.hissalt.net). But, even there I think lies a true message, but not the only one......

The world will, as the lesson clearly teaches, fool you into its embrace and promise wealth, glory, and relationship....until what you have to sustain the illusions is gone and then it will cast you upon the rocks of despair, leaving you valued less than the pigs, who are quite content to wallow around in fith and muck. Even those who have 'backsliden' from what they know is true.

What kind of home did he leave? Apparently a wealthy and prosperous one where he had experience with independence and authority, for he demanded his inheritance and was not stopped from leaving. Maybe there was a disagreement he had with his elder brother, the mother, or even the father...whatever the reason, he rejected the 'nature' of his home and went into voluntary exile. Steeped in selfish gratification, he held to a 'bondage and gloom' image of what home was like instead of its truest picture until even the illusion of such denial came to break under the Truth of reality; the world didn't want him unless he had wealth to give and in the 'empty, desolate, withered, perishing' (Jamieson, Faussett and Brown) situation he found himself in, the Truth found him once again and reminded him that even the lowest in the household were treated better than what the world offered him when nothing else was left that he had to give.

He came to 'himself', not as if he had gone mad but back to the person, I think, he was when he lived in his father's house. A house filled with peace, wealth, freedom, authority and dignity even for the servants of the family. A warm and living reality that breaks the bonds of his disillusionment and gives him the resolve to journey home.....he envisions the initial meeting and what he would say....and goes home, expecting only enough grace to become a servant under that remembered roof.

So heartening is even that lowly status, to serve those he once called family, is enough to make him journey non-stop back to the country of his birth, back to the home he had rejected. Hungry growled within his stomach, his feet were sore and dirty from the walking, and his heart was tired of the deceptions with which he had lived with for so long.

He was broken, yet he journeyed to become nothing more than a servant in his father's house.

Even when life doesn't work, our efforts are nothing more than dirt thrown into the fierceness of the wind to come back and cover us once more and the remembered grace of our Father's house becomes the only sustaining hope that we have left to push us back to our feet, back to our senses, and back home to be nothing more than servants placed in our own home to be the laborers for those who enjoy what we once did...even then, that hope remains.

There is no flipping back and forth for the prodigal; no question in his mind that his father will accept his request, either through pity or compassion. There is that assurance that, even with what he had done, squandering his inheritance, rejecting his home, and now coming back to his father smelling of filth and stained with the dust of his journey. He expects nothing more than his rightful due; to be a servant, nothing more.

As I got home last night from work, being touched once more by the grace of God and His love....oh my God....His love for even the lowest in His house....being broken again and lifting my hands high even in that humbling, that pain, and realizing how far I have come....servanthood is a dream to what I have come from....I came back to that "Amazing Grace" lyric...."I once was dead but now I live....now my life, to You I give.", I looked at the mail; the packet from Reverend Doctor John Gotberg arrived. As I read the commission that appointed and annointed me as an Ordained Community Chaplain, I felt that assurance that even in my Father's house....servants are fed and well-treated. In my Father's house.

In my Father's house, even the suffering is preferable to the illusionary happiness of the world. In my Father's house, even the hired servants are cared for and treated well. In my Father's house, once I had rejected and walked away from, there is an assurance I will be given an opportunity to be there...in whatever capacity...but I will be in my Father's house!
Even if I spend my life toiling away, indentured not as a son to a Father but as a servant to the family, I will be better off in my Father's house than what the world, absent from that home, would allow me to do.

In the group I've never felt I belonged to, unworthy and unqualified for the task and the scope of the mission God has complied these mighty giants to do in and for the Kingdom, it is far far better to be the lowly servant than to be absent from their presense. If I can do nothing more than perform the mudane task of a servant, in my Father's house, I will be far better treated than what the world could give me.

I don't know if I'll ever reach home; I'm faminished, tired, bruised and filthy with the illusionary stain that seems to never wash off ...........like a rape victim, I can't shower enough or be clean enough to seem to remove the stain, the filth of what the world has done to me.....but even if I don't make it home, the vision of what it will be like shall sustain me till that point I cannot go on.

And when I lie collasped in the sand, I'll try once again to get back up and continue...so that I can be a servant in my Father's house...........for they are treated better than the world offers, this lies within my heart to move me to move, get up when I want to stay down, and sustains me in my hunger...such small hope, such a small faith......

Even faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.....

And I think I can see my father's house just over where the valley floor ends.....

A few more steps, and I'll be home.

Stormy weather....

Life happens, I wrote in the blog on Monday.

Life; broken and bruised, battered and bleeding, happens throughout the world each day. Victories won, battles surrendered, lives changed in the blink of an eye and circumstances come to beat down even the most powerful people. In an instant, life happens. In the tempest of the storms, Christ calls us out like He did Peter…..one simple, direct word: “Come.”

Too few of us will give up that immediate and illusionary safety of the boat and the companionship that surrounds us. Yet Christ stands upon the waves so high that it surely seems He should drown. He holds out His hand and simply says, “Come.” Yet, we who have surrendered our lives to Him in dying to ourselves and our own foolishness react much like the other eleven disciples did…..”It’s a ghost!” and continue to battle the wind, the sea, and the tempest deep.

Just as Jesus commanded the twelve to get into the boat and cross the sea, sometimes the events of our lives are nothing more than the result of our actions, sinful and immoral, that are an accounting; Our Father God bring about that which we desired so much to do that we strayed from His path…..and He, ever faithful, calls us back. It is that moment; between the realization of sin and the calling of our God to repent and return that we find our boat moment.

Like Peter, is our desire to be living examples of Christ and to do His will enough? Peter knew that what Christ commanded He was also empowered to do. William Carey once said, “Expect great things of God, and attempt to do great things for God.” Despite what I am sure was opposition from the others in the boat, Peter denied what his mortal body told him and stepped into the tempest.

And walked on water, defying the very laws of physics that bound his physical body by the application of his faith.

So, you’ve stepped out into the raging seas….walking confidently those first few steps with confidence and faith…..a surreal moment bound by the eerie silence and heaviness of faith…….

And then Chaos exerts control and you feel the sway of the tide, the wetness of the waves and the howling of the wind. You hear, as Peter did, the boisterousness of the wind. It seems louder than God’s voice and far, far more desiring of you attention than Christ.

“Unbelief puts our circumstances between us and God.” F.B. Meyer remarked, “But faith puts God between us and our circumstances.”

Faith cannot be called faith unless it is followed by action, obedient action, in the worst of storms and raging circumstances. A faith untested is a useless thing, for anyone can say, “Lord, Lord” and yet walk a life that brings devastation and chaos to all they come into contact with. Few can walk the path that Jesus laid out, and none can walk it as Christ did.

Our storms cause us to wonder and fear stands before our faith.

We, like Peter, take our eyes off Christ and begin to sink…………………..

Life happened yesterday. Like a nuclear explosion. Like a runaway train. Like the betrayal of a wife who seeks the arms of another. Like the husband who hides his heart from those who need his unconditional love. Like the Body of Christ who stand in judgment and issue the decree of reasoning for another’s struggle.

Life sank, and God stood there upon the waves of fury and despair…...

I don’t know how long it took Peter before he cried out for Christ’s help. Maybe he looked around, and tried to turn back towards the boat. Maybe he sank as far as his chin before he cried out to Christ for help.

I know that when the life-altering, exploding and damaging wind of this life’s happening hit the walls of my faith, I shuddered……and felt the pain of its impact. And I lost sight for a moment of that figure on top of the waters of this violent and troubled world.

Sinking isn’t a pleasant feeling…..especially when you’ve been at the bottom before and knows of its despair and hopelessness.

And God said, “Why, with what I have brought you through, do you doubt My authority and My power? My grace. My mercy. Above all, my son, why do you know doubt My strength?”

He’s trained me to carry a lot more as a testimony of His power and this new burden is but a fly upon the cross I carry for my God…….

Lesson learned……God has shown up and is…..


calling me out of the boat to walk on the water……

Life happened......

"Anything which comes from God is able to overcome the world: and the power by which we have overcome the world is our faith." 1 John 5:4 (BBE)

Life happened this Sunday evening.

Life is its' most distruptive, sorrowed and chaotic way brought several of us journeyers together in the stark, quietly busy enivronment of Annapolis Hospital in the evening yesterday.

My ex-wife called to say that she had received the call, that call from the hospital that you never hope to get but know in the passage of time that it will come. The Doctors had done all that they could do in regards her father and recommended that he be put into a 'safety and comfort' status, so that his final days would be free from pain and discomfort. He lost the battle against the host of health issues that he's fought most of his life, but more intensely in the last three months. It was time to gather, to say goodbye and let him move into his eternal reward.

No longer were the issues of possible cancer, the amputation of his right leg below the knee or the big toe on the left foot. No longer was the infection of primary concern; nor the effects of its ravashing of this man's body. No longer were his respiratory or diabetes an issue. No longer his heart...nothing no longer was the issue....

The battle upon this world and its desire to fell the righteous was over for this warrior; who had bravely marched under the command and order of his LORD and King these many years.

Tripping and falling, surely as is the wont and fate of any of us broken and sinful human beings. But standing more often than not upon the battlefield's front lines in the battle between Good and Evil; an inspiration and comfort to those who came alongside him.

His battle fought, the scars of a long effort upon the front lines etched upon the mortal flesh; his LORD called him from the battle, saying that it was time to pass on the sword of righteousness, the shield of love and the breastplate of Truth and come home.

To those of us; Carol, Betty Jo, Ed, Tammie and the grandchildren, who bore this warrior from the lines of fierce fighting for the souls of the lost, the disheartened and the weak, did so with sadness and sorrow for he was a father, a grandfather and a friend.

But far from the front lines and the din of the ongoing battle, we were able to speak the words of goodbye and Godspeed to the hearing ears and echoing voice of this warrior. To account in our words the deeds; both mighty and small, fruitful and destructive, Godly or manly. And know in each of the children of this great warrior, a piece of him would continue.

Life happened this Sunday evening.

But it won't end there; not for those left with all-too-familiar sorrow at the passing of a loved one. No, for amid the darkness of death's approaching, there stood silent testimony to the power of the One who overcame its' power. The new life promised shone as a beacon to those who had accepted Him as their LORD.

As I travelled home from the hospital last night, bearing this warrior's grandchild home to carry on with the life that we have left to live upon this earth, though absent of a loved one held so dear who's departure is counted now in days rather than years, I reflected upon the life we've shared, him and I, and how God has moved within its pages; writing the story of this epic with His own hands.

Where once, for the same purposes and passions, we once stood in opposition and battled against each other for the benefit of those loved ones we both shared and how life moved in destructive ways upon the landscape of our journey, wounding and scarring us both. And how blessed and honored I was, in these latter years, to fight alongside him in love and brotherhood for the common salvation of all those loved ones.

Maybe not always in agreement, but always with the love taught and bore by the LORD and Savior of our lives.

It struck me, in the echoing background of moving tires, bright lights, and the drone of the highway traffic, that all of us die....it is the result of Adam and Eve's original sin and the deviation of mankind from the purposes and plans of the Creator who fashioned and breathed life into our bodies.

There is no way to cheat the due of the "Grim Reaper." It is the fate of all who breathe a breath upon the reality of this world.

Some of us, though, are fortunate enough to die twice.

In our spiritual death, where we die to ourselves and the world subjecting ourselves and our will to that of the Father, we find the One who has gone before the "Grim Reaper" and left him empty-handed and find life abundantly. For, to those who have discovered the hope of eternal life in the gift of salvation bought by the sacrifice of Christ, what other kind of life can we truly have, except abundant?

Gone is the assurance of death's completiness, replaced by the confidence of God's promised gift of eternity, free from the brokenness of this world's suffering and sorrows!

Jack's reward, his graduation if you will, from this world is a moment of joyful celebration and jealous envy for he will be with the Savior seated with the saints who gone on before, to await the time that the Father only knows to return in victory with our LORD and King.

What would not bring such a celebration upon the attaining of a Christian life's goal?

But, for those of us who are left behind; the loss of his smile, his love and even his gruffiness are those things to which our sorrow is expressed and felt. But, even in that sorrow is the assurance that it can only be temporary...for God promises us that as well.

Today, as I step back out upon the battlefield of this fallen world; girthed in the belt, breastplate, helmet, sword and shield of the Most High King, my LORD and Savior Jesus Christ.....I paused for a moment and looked to the sky, in its beginning daily progression of overcoming the darkness of the passing night.

I feel my Father's hands upon my head, speaking the blessings of the day to which He knows I will need and will make good use of. He accepts my hopes for my son, my daughter and all those to whom I have been blessed to be given to love. He gives me the assurance of the request for those I don't know yet, to whom I pray my life will speak of the Father's love and His promised hope. And He promises to be with those who are burdened with sorrow anew as He gathers His son Jack, and all the other saints whom have recieved the waited call home, into His arms to wait the coming victory and establishment of God's Kingdom.

I have to smile a bit bigger today....for I know that I will stand before the Throne on that day and hear the name of my brother called from the Book of Life as he is rewarded for his good and faithful service. Another victory today for the LORD my God from the enemy is etched into the granite of God's promise.

For Jack Small was dead to the world years ago, born anew from the Father God into a new man. And all things that come from God overcome the world and our victory of triumph over sin's wages lie within our faith in Jesus Christ, our LORD.

Makes us indestructible, don't it?

Today, as I stepped off the front porch of my home and began my journey into this thing called life, such thoughts captured my mind and lifted my heart in the midst of the sorrow.

In Jesus, we are the Chosen people, part of the royal priesthood and offered a place at the King's table for the victory banquet that will be coming when Christ returns to this world and brings defeat to the enemy, establishing His kingdom upon the creation borne from His Father's hand.......

But until then, the harvest is full though the workers are few;

As you step out into the world today, girthed with the armor of the LORD, take a moment to remember who's you are and remember His promise:

Press forward -- swinging the sword of righteousness and truth with the assurance of knowing who you are in Him, and giving true service to the Great Commission today as you step into the darkness of this sinful,broken world among the loss, the broken, the sinful and the victorious.

We cannot chose the manner in which we depart this world, but we can chose the manner in which our lives are lived upon this world.

For the eternal hope which is assured and the coming of our KING!

A generation speaks.....

This video speaks of and for itself. I recieved it in a AFA email and felt it needed to be passed on.

Blessings to this little girl, wise beyond her years......

In Christ,
Jim
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOR1wUqvJS4

Generation LOST

"Under three things the earth trembles, under four it cannot bear up: a servant who becomes king, a fool who is full of food, an unloved woman who is married, and a maidservant who displaces her mistress." Proverbs 30:21-23 (NIV)

Last night, at the Awanas ministry that I am now participating, I gave the 'lesson'.

It has been a point of worry with me that such ministries in the Church of today are nothing more than a reflection of society's "no-compete or accountability' mentality and that has created within the Body of Christ a disillusionment of the Truth in the young that transposes itself into disassociation with church in later years or the emergent postmodern view of "religiousity" so that such 'clubs' are nothing more than social groups that are too often divided and contrary to the original biblical purposes to which they were formed.

We make games to keep them entertained, bringing video platforms and pool tables....with a bit of biblical instruction and call it ministry.

They become nothing more than 'holding pens' in which those called to the ministry of the children are often frustrated and disillusioned from the lack of desire and respect that the children exhibit about their faith and their pursue of God. I believe this is why there is such a high 'turn-over' in children's ministry volunteers.

I, myself, am trying to stay away from the opinion of "simply marking time" (in a way) because of the 'viewpoint' of the leadership in regards to ministry as a whole.

It is not my calling to serve in the children's ministry, but I saw the need (there are only two men in the whole of the Awana's program at the campus) and stepped into it to meet such need. An year's commitment is one of the 'requirements' of a 'favorable' Church view on the desire and purpose of those who minister in the church or want church backing to new ideas. Those are the rules, otherwise I would have probably left the position my first day.

At least, I figure, I can try to impart the importance of bringing God into their Wednesday night activities rather than just rubber-stamp their progress through it.
The 'model' of churchy things has led to a wealth of those who are unfit and unprepared for the rigours of living by faith and the persecution that comes from the evil one and his minions as a Christian walks closer and closer in relationship with God.

We have created, with our desire to 'be all things to all people', weak and unhealthy spiritual people who have brought those weaknesses into the home and are passing them onto the next generation.

I speak not from accusation...but from experience. I struggle with my son to implement such disciplines in my own home, because of my own history. I do better than some but realize I am far than the model. Going back to the discussion about 'judging' that I wrote a few blogs back.....I judge myself accordingly too.
We have created the conditions of the field and now are reaping the corrupted harvest.

As the Jamieson-Fausset-Brown Bible Commentary says about this Proverb, "Pride and cruelty, the undue exaltation of those unfit to hold power, produce those vices which disquiet society."

If we do not learn in the years to which we are under the tuleage and instruction of those placed in authority above us, we will be a self-focused and self-serving people in our latter days. Much like what has happened in cultural and society, where the creed of the United States once was based on the 'consensus of the majority' has been corrupted into the 'minority view' of subjective righteousness and truth.

We act out of our wounded beginnings. And, rather than having cultivated a 'servant's heart', we learn of the 'protection of one's self'. When we are advanced into positions of power, our corrupted sense of 'religion' begets further corruption, to which society adjusts to accept as the 'norm'.

Our government is a large reflection of it. Our patriotism, now held to be separate from our faith, is the gaping wound of such sinfulness. The current definition of tolerance, in and of itself intolerant of one religion (Christianity), shows the progression from a people more interested in the edification and qualification of the young to a people who have declared the young to be lucky...that we allow them to breathe.

As I began the lesson, based on the instructions of Paul to his young charge Timothy, one of the more 'free-spirited' (read...uninterested) young persons in the group I belong to as a 'leader' was ignoring the common respect and courtesy one was once expected to give both the instructor and the fellow students. I called him upon it, reflecting that I was of the school where disruptive behavior such as he exhibited was dealt with in the form of 'corner watching'. "Nose to the wall, son" as my dad would say.

It wasn't his reaction that appalled me, it was one from the 'friendly and loved' leader, a young adult who is serving in the ministry group.

I upset her, which was given in evidence to the children around her with the rolling of the eyes and other body indications. The young man sat quietly, for a few moments, until he saw that and returned to his previous attitude, quietly. I knew I had lost one, before the lesson even began.

I had placed the verse I was teaching from on the board the previous Wednesday and asked the group to bring in a picture of someone they wanted to emulate or copy; be it professionally or personally. Only one child, out of twenty or thirty, copied the verse down and attempted to learn it. Even with the enticement of 'money' (reward points for the 'store' where they can 'purchase' prizes), only one came into Wednesday night's Awanas and tried to recite the verse.

Only one.

And only four brought a picture, two of them creatively making a collage of many clipped photos, of a person they wanted to emulate in a profession. Not a great ratio. Using the examples given, I reflected how our Christian journey isn't to gain eternal salvation but to walk in the confidence and assurance towards that destination already assured, in the training of ourselves into being copies of Christ.....emulation. That is what answers the internal question of "Why is Christ the answer?"

If we show those values we claim to follow in the biblical text to be nothing more than convienant and occassional to our own lives, it is reflected and amplified in our children's disinterest and disrespect of God, though many will claim to be followers of Christ.

Which leads me into the conviction I have, as do a growing number of men, that since Adam...men have been living unpurposed and undesigned lives. Society has amplified this disconnect by feminizing men, declaring their innate instincts to be undesireable, and not holding the men to a biblical and clear standard: just use of Godly designed power, working in conjunction with a woman's design to create life-giving, life-nuturing and ultimately God-purposing environments for the generations following.

Instead of telling a child that they can do whatever they wish, creating an non-competitive environment where their God-designed purpose and talent isn't shaped and molde to be forged into unbreakable faith, and teaching them that rote learning is better than indepth, wisdom-seeking understanding; we have created a generation who is unknowing of God, undesiring of His ways, and who are self-involved in this life that they have been taught they are lucky to be existing in.

We've put the emphasis on the physical well-being and neglected the spiritual well-being. Is it any wonder the children of the world are striking back?

We need to return to the right focus, as emulated and reflected in the life of our Savior Jesus Christ. "Not my will, Father, but Yours be done." "The words I speak are from the Father and not my own."

What was the verse, you ask, that sparked this?

"Rather, train yourself to live a godly life.Training the body helps a little, but godly living helps in every way. Godly living has the promise of life now and in the world to come." 1 Timothy 4:7b-8 (GWT)

A no-brainer, eh?

It's time to retrain ourselves so that we, through the power of the Spirit, may reclaim and redeem generations of unbiblical living and save the generation to come.

JMT

Christmas broodings......

"Even though an army sets up camp against me, my heart will not be afraid. Even though a war breaks out against me, I will still have confidence [in the LORD]. I have asked one thing from the LORD. This I will seek: to remain in the LORD's house all the days of my life in order to gaze at the LORD's beauty and to search for an answer in his temple." Psalms 27:3-4 (GWT)

It is so easy to look around our world and despair. There is nothing in the world that seems to bode good will and everywhere we look there is only fear and confusion. The duality of our nature; the human side worrying and stressing about the reality of a fallen, broken creation and the Christian side, matured in the realization that true peace is obtainable even in the ferociousity of the storms that ravage this world because of who's we are......and the event we celebrate this coming 25th of December. The birth of our salvation in the manger of Bethlehem, right underneath the corrupted human government of Herod.

It is a reality we are facing – the economic outlook grows gloomy and dismal with each passing day. Many Americans are looking to a human savior, in the form of our President-elect Barack Obama, to save us from the entitlement lifestyle that we have lived....far from our true American roots that our forefathers envisioned and set to paper years ago. Even in the form of the faith, we have moved far beyond the unbelievable gratitude and awesome experience of mercy for a gift that none of us deserve and none of us could obtain on our own to a 'God delivering on His promises' faith that emboldens us to an expectant entitlement of the many blessings that we find in the Bible. All we need to do is name it and claim it.

With the Government spending billions of dollars to 'bail out' the economic crisis, we find out the true nature of most Americans today. Instead of dropping to our knees in supplication and appreciation for the coming celebration of the birth of the WORD made flesh, we rush out to the stores in search of the big bargains and super deals.....we shop, shop, shop using credit cards for money we do not have, dealing with the created traffic jams of vehicles and humanity because WE deserve that deal armed with our to-do-lists and who-to-buy-for lists while making sure that we schedule the most convenient service (we pick between three to five) at our church. We get caught up in the production; after all, the CEOs who come (Christmas and Easter Only) come not for the value of the show but the entertainment quality of the Christmas story. We fret about how much to spend on each person, some of us wondering if we should spend any at all since the looming possibility of being unemployed in the new year overshadows the Christmas spirit.

Years ago, in my youth, I was one of those CEOs (by my mother's insistence). We gathered at the local church, Dunning Park Chapel in Redford Michigan, for the Christmas celebration. I remember the Pastor standing off to one side, reading the Christmas story from the Gospels as the young children 'acted' it out on the stage behind him. In less than an hour, it was over. But there has never been a more impactful Christmas 'production' that I've seen since. The children in the background weren't the focus....it was the retelling of the beginning of the plan to redeem mankind from sin. In two thousand years, that story hasn't changed, but the elaborate glitter of human involvement has.

The innocence of that youthful experience has been lost, by all of us. I guess that is why I don't like the 'holiday' season, not because of what happened but because what I have lost in the hustle and bustle of the searching for the 'perfect' gift for those I love and the 'peace and goodwill' expressions that only happen once a year at this time. We expect the stores we shop at to use the proper titles for the season, "Merry Christmas" instead of 'Happy Holidays". We argue against the growing trend to be 'inclusive' by our village, city, county, state, and federal governing bodies with the additions of the Star and Crescent, the Atheists statements, and so on. We create committees and argue about the best way to 'produce' an culturally sensitive, welcoming to all kind of play that will fill our pews and chairs in the main sanctuaries of our churches. We brood over the money we spend, bouncing back and forth from giving to missions or buying simpler gifts for our loved ones. We create the illusion of joy and peace that lies empty and unbelievable in the morning light.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of a census demanded by the Roman Empire and the national celebration of Passover, a family journeyed to Bethlehem to meet the demands of the governing body to be counted. Mary, pregnant with Christ, went with her husband Joseph to his home city. In the self-centered environment of to-do-lists, shopping for the meal to be prepared, and the stress of being counted, our salvation was bore on a donkey quietly into the small village, only to find room in the stable cave with a bed to be made from a feeding trough for the WORD made flesh. The magi began their journey to visit this King, whose birth was displayed by a star high in the night sky. Shepherds, tending their flocks in the alienated world they lived in, were rocked by the heavenly choir that proclaimed our Savior's birth to such lowly men. Upon fine linen and enclosed within warm walls was not this baby born, but among the animals and cold of the night air. Attended by only His earthly father and mother.

Hearts despairing over their plight in the economics of the times, children going hungry, families bearing the celebrations with illnesses or deaths of loved ones, the poor still poor and the rich still rich swirled around the 'royal' family of peasant beginnings. Did Mary know what the child she carried would do? Did Joseph's thoughts center around just how he would raise the promised Messiah? They didn't make demands of their status in any of the places they stopped at in search of a room. They didn't claim privilege because of the honor they were given. No one whispered as they passed on their way to that luxurious cave filled with animals of their 'royalness' or the importance of the child the woman bore.

Joseph's thoughts past the birth of this child the angel told him was the Messiah, Immanuel (God is with us), probably wandered to the pressing concerns that assaulted his mind; lodging for his young family, the census, and the host of fatherly and husbandly duties that he faced. The bills still had to be paid and work had to be done. Evidence shows us that the family stayed in Bethlehem for at least two years, possibly with the intention of staying longer, so Joseph would have been looking to start his business anew in a new city.

The nation that waited with desperation and hope for the coming of the promised Messiah went about their lives with no clue that in their midst was the one they waited for. They continued with their joys, their sorrows, their worries, and their planned attendance at the synagogues for worship services. Families gathered together to celebrate the Passover and to be counted, friends met with friends, and hearts ebbed and flowed with the emotions of love, hatred, peace, joy, sorrow, and expectation.

I wonder how many future believers resided close to the Promised Messiah when He was born what their thoughts and dreams were as the WORD made flesh took His first breath of this broken world's air and His new ears were assaulted with the sounds of animals restless around Him, His nose filled with the fragrance of the stable smells. I wonder if they looked back thirty-three years later, as that baby boy's arms were stretched out painfully to be nailed upon a cross of wood by iron spikes, and thought of that night past when their salvation was born upon this earth. How they missed the biggest event of their lives and how that baby's life was ended.

I can remember the worry, the joy, and the fretting that I felt when my son Casey was born premature. I can remember the long wait for my daughter Sara to be born in the birth room of another hospital a year+ later. I can look back in my life and see those personal events that caused a course change, for good or bad, and realize in hindsight how important those things were, though at the time they seemed just another part of the life I live. I can see God's hand moving in my past even when I rallied against Him and shunned His hand. I wonder if the children that grew up with Christ looked back upon those childish incidents of ridicule or scorn that all children seem to visit upon each other at one time or another…..I wonder if their shame was amplified by their hindsight.

We have the blessing of being able to live our lives peacefully - in the midst of chaos - and find joy in the midst of tears. We know that our Savior lives, that from the beginning of our physical birth that He was knocking at the door to our hearts and asking to be allowed in. Our ability to live lives of expectation in the face of despair and fear is due to our amazing God, who provisioned for us before we were even born to find our way back to Him, to be in relationship with Him. He shows us His amazing mercy, joy, and peace in the pages of the Bible illuminating His kingdom through His word, His Holy Spirit, and in a birth that took place a day 2,000 plus years ago.

As we gather with our family this Christmas morning, amid the gift wrapping paper discarded in heaps upon the living room floor and the excited content voices of our friends, family, and children who play with the physical representations of happiness and joy…….let's stop and listen.

In our hearts we'll hear the moo of the cow, the brisk neighing of the donkey, and the sigh of a mother cradling a baby in her arms. In our mind's eye, let us take in the smells and the quietness of this moment in time with this family who were chosen to bring God's promise into the reality of this world.

And let us give thanks to our Heavenly Father, who loves us so much that He allowed the WORD to become flesh, fully God and fully Man, to usher the beginning of the redemption of mankind and the end of the evil one's reign upon the broken creation.

And feel in the heart of hearts which the Spirit resides that glorious and thunderous joy of the assembled Angels as they praised the birth of our Savior.

"Behold! Unto you this day a child is born………"

A story who's power will never be lost and whose impact upon the world has never dimmed. The power of my God displayed in a poor, working stable in the mundane life of humanity where the painful process of redeeming mankind from their sins began with the newborn cry of the Promised King whom God sent because of His love.

Freedom is a prayer away because of that birth.

Let us remember that beauty and that love that upon that day in Bethlehem was born to us a Savior by name......

No matter what the culture says,
Or what society may display upon the lawns of governments.

A little piece of Heaven here on earth......

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory and all his angels are with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. The people of every nation will be gathered in front of him. He will separate them as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right but the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, 'Come, my Father has blessed you! Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, and you took me into your home. I needed clothes, and you gave me something to wear. I was sick, and you took care of me. I was in prison, and you visited me.' Then the people who have God's approval will reply to him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or see you thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you as a stranger and take you into our homes or see you in need of clothes and give you something to wear? When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' The king will answer them, 'I can guarantee this truth: Whatever you did for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant [they seemed], you did for me.'" Matthew 25:31-40 (GWT)

My eyes are still not dry from the ride into work, an hour trip on way that I often do on autopilot. Since I 'splurged' the five dollars for a cheap attachment so that I can plug my nieces' gift of an used MP3 player into my 1995 'classic' radio system, I can listen to my favorite tunes on the way....connecting with God in a way that life doesn't seem to allow outside of the worship services of my new church, The River. I'm probably a sight, driving down Dixie Highway, Telegraph, M-10, and the Southfield Freeway.....arms popping up to the sky and belting out the song louder than the radio itself!

It wasn't the events; so many within the last few months that have my eyes in tears, raising my hands and voice in praise to our Lord and Savior...though one would understand surely if that was indeed the reasoning and approve of it.....

One song, listened to over and over and over.....hit me as God wrapped His warm and loving arms around me this morning and for the first time in a while.....I drove along in silence, playing the same song over and over again.............for the hour's drive......

"I can only imagine what it'll be like when I walk by Your side. I can only imagine what my eyes will see when Your face is before me. I can only imagine. Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for You Jesus or in awe of You be still? Will I stand in Your presence or to my knees will I fall? Will I sing Hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all?" I Can Only Imagine MercyMe The Worship Project.

I've often felt that wonder, that wonder of what the awesome and powerful impact of having my Savior standing before me and speaking to me person-to-person in a physical, relational way....far beyond the times His Father has spoken verbally to me or the Spirit has impassioned me......that day I long for, strive for, and know in my heart will eventually come; in His time and not my own. It is why I hang on by that fingertip on the ledge of this broken world....it is why I struggle against the flesh. For that moment in time, that place in the Heavens. Something my heart longs for, yet has never yet known.......

Or has it?

There is that saying, "A little piece of Heaven here on Earth." It has been used as a slogan for a destination vacation spot or some fancy new treatment at the local spa, inferring that the blissfulness and joy of Heaven has been 'recreated' at that spot or with that treatment.....

God told me this morning, as I listened to MercyMe......"A piece of Heaven here on Earth for you, My Beloved son."

And I knew how I will act when Jesus stands before me, face-to-face. I will fall to my knees, eyes in tears of joy, and be unable to speak..........

A month or two ago, a brother of mine in the ministry M3 sent me an email asking about how things were going. I mentioned that I was okay, not buying up Lincolns to drive and huge homes to dwell in; but 'struggling well' as one of our mentors says. Things were tight, but not disastrous........I mentioned needs that were unfulfilled but being worked towards............

He said that he had some clothes his kids had outgrown for my son, who seems to have experienced a major spurt in his growth.........we made plans to meet to exchange them as the months progressed, emails of clothing sizes and such flying back and forth in the air of the Internet age.

We met up last night as my son practiced flag football with his team on the field of The River's eventual home a short jog away on the highway. Recently my thoughts, as I am sure the thoughts of parents everywhere have, turned towards the looming holidays and how they were going to be so different from the holidays in the past recent years.....as I remarked, somewhat bitterly to a friend, "This Christmas is going to rely on the charity of strangers."

Don't get me wrong....it isn't that such isn't appreciated, far from it. I'd rather focus my attention on giving to others than having to ask for gifts for my children, for that is the only reason I'd ask for it in the first place.

It was a blessing in disguise....a brother in Christ I haven't seen since the Story Weekend we both went on a year ago, Vito, was there as I arrived. A brother who's story touches my own and who's heart is reflective of God's powerful light. It was great to reconnect with my brother-in-arms, and to be reminded that lives touched are lives changed.

The gentleman, Tim, who's house we met at said a comment that describes best the connection that, untapped for a year, still exists between a burly, Italian powerful man of God and I; "You can always tell the guys who have shared a story weekend."

As I travelled back to the practice field to watch the remainder of practice, I peeked in the bags that my brother had helped load into my car. It struck me as odd that there were tags sticking out of the bags......and the clothes, supposedly used, had that 'new clothes fold' to them. I arrived at the field and parked. I noticed one smaller bag within one of them, so I pulled it out.

Inside were some gloves and a head band thingy from Isotones....you know, keeps the ears warm....as it was colder, I grabbed the head band thingy....I had to remove the tags though......

Practice ended early, the coach citing the cold and the falling darkness (the field is unlit). My son, as my dear child is oft to do, was excited about the practice just completed....and the adventure awaiting ahead trying on what he assumed were used clothes from another family who's son had outgrown them. He was excited, after the introduction of the head band thingy.......which he was quick to inform me was his favorite, since it kept his ears warm.

Long story short....the clothes were new, with the store tags still attached. My BIC said that his friend that was giving the clothes didn't have any used, so went out and bought new. It was a soothing balm to this Dad's soul to watch his son's excited and delighted face as he tried them on and made plans for what he would wear for his next month's worth of schooling.......and his comment of 'can I make a card to thank your friend?'

A little piece of heaven here on earth.................

When I called my friend about how the 'used' clothes were new, my friend told me that a brother wanted to bless me and had arranged with my landlord to take care of my December obligation.

A little piece of heaven here on earth.................

The biting cold of another Michigan winter is whispering at the doors of the season and yet I am warm inside. Because a few of my brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ followed the example of the Groom Himself, and displayed the light of His love, the power of His touch, and the compassion within His heart in a darkness of a broken world.

Proclaiming the Gospel without uttering a word, without a handshake in appreciation.

Showing the love of Christ in a simple way, maybe, but in a way that is undeniably God's. It isn't the clothes in and of itself.

It is a group of people who moved where God told them to go; without question and without qualm.

I don't have to wonder what I would do when I come face to face with the Savior, His hands and feet bearing the nail marks and the wound in His side. I don't have to think about whether I would sing His praises or be in utter awe to the point of silence.

I am seeing Christ reflected from the actions and words of silent beacons in the darkness of the world, I feel the whisper of the robe of the One who walks beside me in the words of those who interact with me during meetings and discussions.

Maybe it is just that being at the bottom, I can hear my God more clearly because I have no where to look but up. It may be, as I see how I can't do this life alone, that I rely on God's mercies each day.

It may be, but I don't think so.

The deeds of loving kindness, true benevolence, and agape love are what we, as church, called to in service to our King. They can be done in many different ways by all types of people, regardless of financial status or inclination.

As Chrysostom said, "He said not I was sick and ye healed me; or in prison and ye set me free; but ye visited me and came unto me." Personal and real service, involving some sacrifice of ease, time, or even property.

We aren't to do such things, such acts of unparalleled beauty and mercy, because they entitle us to eternal happiness but rather for the sake of God as a mark of our holiness as believers under the effects of grace.

A light upon the hilltop, shining into the darkness.

Exposing a piece of heaven here on earth............

"Thus life and death, good and evil, the blessing and the curse, are set before us, that we may choose our way, and as our way so shall our end be." Matthew Henry.

A taste, real and savory, of the Kingdom yet to come..............

Some people try to hide their failures, sinful nature, or mistakes made. Not me, I want people to know 'why' I look this way. I've travelled a long, long way and some of the roads weren't paved. The joy isn't in the road travelled, but the blessedness of those met upon the journey home.

In this life, regardless of your 'lot', make sure that you direct your light in a manner befitting the King you serve. Do something that is honoring to your God and King. A smile over the handing out of a warm, home-cooked meal to those displaced from a home, a blessed word to the 'grumpy' co-worker who is worried about their job, or a contribution of funds to a shelter, food bank, or clothing store for the poor.........something that stretches you in a way that makes you reach beyond what you can do so God can show you how to do it.............

In the darkest recess of a broken, fallen world is where the smallest light can shine the brightest .......


Bring a little piece of heaven to those you know here on Earth.

And find out how you will act when you meet Jesus face-to-face!

What you are voting for this election from American Family Association.

Please take a moment to watch this short video.


http://www.valuevotersusa.com/


Sincerely,



Donald E. Wildmon,
Founder and Chairman
American Family Association

True warriors for the King

Last night, while I attended the Men's bible study at the College street campus of The River, I was caught up in the thought ofhe great battle in Heaven, between Archangel Michael and Satan. I guess it was because of the discussion of John Eldredge's book, Wild at Heart, which the group is currently using. Eldredge's talk of Braveheart and movies of that type that stirs something in the hearts of men....the warrior heart.

The question was put on the table by the group leader, Dan, about why is the men's ministry (specifically at The River) was so poorly attended as opposed to the women's ministry. I put forth that the Gospel has been 'feminized' and doesn't speak to men's hearts, but with the growing movement within the body of Christ to regain the masculinity of men and restore it to the God-designed purpose, it seems that such an explanation falls short of the full truth.

Eldredge says that men need 'permission', perhaps to themselves, to be true godly men. Robert Lewis, of Men's Fraternity, says that society has redefined masculinity into a 'feminized' manhood that is far from the truth. Yet, as we walk the hallways of our churches and open our eyes to the powerful imagery and effect of the Scriptures....we don't see the 'godly man', we see 'churchy men'.

God isn't just a god of love. God is full of wrath, vengeance, and jealousy. He is complete, yet only the 'feminine' qualities are announced in the church congregations. God is also a God of War....and men were meant to be His warriors.
Michael and the rest of the Heavenly Host once stood against the vastly superior numbers of Satan's army and held.

Not much is mentioned in the churches today concerning this 'great and epic' battle between the forces of Good (Michael and the remaining angels) vs. Satan, the Great Deceiver, and something like 2/3rds of the Heavenly Host. The Bible doesn't go into much detail about the actual battle itself; the battle was not in the Deceiver's favor and he was cast down with his army to earth.

Revelation 12:7-12: "And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down, that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: "Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Christ. For the accuser of our brothers, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down. They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death. Therefore rejoice you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short."

All of Heaven rejoiced with the victory upon the battlefield of Heaven and a warning was sent down to those who lived on the earth, warning that the Devil was filled with fury because he knew his temporary power upon the earth would be short-lived. Whereas angels once led the charge against the Evil One the battle, which still rages today, falls upon the sons of man, equipped by the Holy Spirit and empowered by Jesus Christ's triumph.

From the silence of Adam to the modern day destruction of the family, men are failing to account for their complacency and failure to stand with their backs against the order and beauty that God created them to fight for, protect, and guard against as they face the growing destruction and chaos of a world torn by the enemy forces of a vanquished foe, who knows that he is destined to be utterly defeated. Men don't want to be held accountable for their inaction.

If we would only look to the first battle raged against the forces of Good by the scheming of Evil, we could find our secret; that weapon that brings us assured victory and helps us move into the wilderness of chaos and destruction.....against a vastly superiorly numbered force. We were designed for better, and given the blood of Christ with the strength of our struggles (testimony), to overcome this arrayed army.

We should heed the story of the King of Tyre in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 28. There is a debate amongst biblical scholars about the king of Tyre; this passage speaks of either, an ancient ruler of the city of Tyre named Ethbaal, or Ithobal, a future end-time religious/military leader, Satan, and/or all three. And, of course, there are the wilder theories, such as "the Christian's Satan is none other than the ancient Poseidon aka Neptune."

"Son of man, take up a lament concerning the king of Tyre and say to him: `This is what the Sovereign LORD says: "`You were the model of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty. You were in Eden, the garden of God; every precious stone adorned you: ruby, topaz and emerald, chrysolite, onyx and jasper, sapphire, turquoise and beryl. Your settings and mountings were made of gold; on the day you were created they were prepared. You were anointed as a guardian cherub, for so I ordained you. You were on the holy mount of God; you walked among the fiery stones. You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created till wickedness was found in you. Through your widespread trade you were filled with violence, and you sinned. So I drove you in disgrace from the mount of God, and I expelled you, O guardian cherub, from among the fiery stones. Your heart became proud on account of your beauty, and you corrupted your wisdom because of your splendor. So I threw you to the earth; I made a spectacle of you before kings. By your many sins and dishonest trade you have desecrated your sanctuaries. So I made a fire come out from you, and it consumed you, and I reduced you to ashes on the ground in the sight of all who were watching. All the nations who knew you are appalled at you; you have come to a horrible end and will be no more."

Ancient Tyre was a coastal city of Palestine, which now lies in ruins partially reclaimed by the sea. A newer city was built, but not on the original site. It was the capital of trade in ancient times and a very desirable target for the opposing nations. Alexander conquered it by building a road across the sea to lay siege to it.

The human King of Tyre wouldn't have been created, but born of man, and so was far from perfect. He didn't have access to the Garden or to God's throne, being mortal. Rather, this human king was most likely representative of what Satan was and what man could become.

"Many expositors have suggested that besides the literal sense of this lamentation there is an allegory in it, and that it is an allusion to the fall of the angels that sinned, who undid themselves by their pride. And (as is usual in texts that have a mystical meaning) some passages here refer primarily to the king of Tyre, as that of his merchandises, others to the angels, as that of being in the holy mountain of God." Matthew Henry writes about this chapter, "But, if there be any thing mystical in it (as perhaps there may), I shall rather refer it to the fall of Adam, which seems to be glanced at."

Lucifer had the potential to remain perfect and do good works or lose that perfection and produce evil, worthless works and we know, by the battle that raged upon the heavenly landscape, what course he chose. Man is created to live perfectly and chose the same destructive route as Lucifer did; from Adam on down through the generations.

The King of Tyre was looked upon as the wisest among the capabilities of men to be such, and happy in the human way that riches can create, and enjoyed the pursuit of life. He was the complete man, perfect among his kind. He thought of himself as the guardian angel of his people; bright, strong, faithful, appointed, and qualified for the 'office' to which he laid claim. His ruin lied in what he valued most and what was important to him. Not service to a people that he governed rather the beauty and dazzling splendor of his kingdom. He was so concerned with his own sense of greatness that he lost the ability to discern wisdom and the value of such ability. He became that which he valued, temporary and foolish.

"There is nothing outside the man which, going into him, is able to make him unclean: but the things which come out of the man are those which make the man unclean." Mark 7:15 (BEB)

Such is the warning of what happens when men turn the power given by God to be spiritual leaders and the 'head' of the household into unjust self-service. We will fall like Satan did, in the Tyre allegory. Like Adam in the Garden. Like countless leaders in the church today.

That is why men, I believe, don't attend men's groups. Because we want to go at it alone due to a fear that we cannot measure up to the illusion of what we should be; a King of Tyre---handsome, wise, and totally destructive in our sinful humanity.

We are not to be Kings of Tyre rather servants to God --like the Archangel Michael, leading into the chaos and defending the order/beauty that God rendered under our care, never retreating, never surrendering.

The true path of manhood, far from the 'steps' of development offered by Eldredge, Lewis, Crabb, and others, is simple (though they each contribute towards the restoration of men);

"I know your works and where you dwell, where Satan's throne is. You hold firmly to my name, and didn't deny my faith in the days of Antipas my witness, my faithful one, who was killed among you, where Satan dwells. But I have a few things against you, because you have there some who hold the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to throw a stumbling block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed to idols, and to commit sexual immorality. You also have some who follow what the Nicolaitans teach." Revelation 2:13-15 (WEB)

Standing strong, firm, and with authority....our backs against the beauty and order that God created in our wives, our children, and our friends; facing the chaos and destruction wrought by the Evil one and his minions.

We, instead, have become Nicolaitans and Balaam followers.

The Nicolaitans were a sect of evil influence in the early phase of Christianity, notably in the 7 Asian churches, who ate 'things sacrificed to idols' which was forbidden (Acts 15:29) and most likely fell into a pagan laxity of morals because of their association directly with such practices. Not only did they cause themselves to sin, but they led some in the Pergamum church, and possibly Thyatira, to adopt their teachings.

Balaam was the son of Beor from the Mesopotamian city of Pethor who possessed a gift of prophecy. Balaam knew God, but it appears his knowledge was corrupted by heathen practices and conceptions. He knew enough of God to obey Him, but hoped to win Him over through liberal sacrifices to a self-serving plan of his own. He was a man who loved the gain of unrighteousness, corrupted by superstition, covertness, and wickedness. "Balaam is the type of a teacher of the church who attempts to advance the cause of God by advocating an unholy alliance with the ungodly and worldly, and so conforming the life of the church to the spirit of the flesh." (Bibloc.com)

Men are called to lead among the path to righteousness, through the right use of the power given through the authority of the Spirit, and to defend against false doctrines. In love, in authority, and under accountability.

"By the word of their testimony: the powerful preaching of the gospel is mighty, through God, to pull down strong holds." ---Matthew Henry

Men are called to hold to Christ's holy name, expand and declare their faith in the troubled times where such is not the 'wise' thing to do, cleanly and without humanism or universalist teachings calling us to ignore the Biblical truths for a more 'easier' approach.

The ultimate war, the one for the Kingdom of Heaven, is still raging in the hearts and minds of men, women, and children of the world today and it is becoming more intense and deadly as it approaches the final stages. Christ is calling His Army to the field, to once again defend, protect, and stand against the chaos and destruction of the Evil One. We, men and women, have retreated from this war for far too long. It is time to resume the battle positions to which we were called, purposed, and created for.

Men, we are called to be the warriors we were created to be, loving others as we love ourselves--by the standard set forth by our Father and our kinsman Christ. We are called to fight for God in the spiritual realm where the battles rage; as a husband servant to his wife, as a father mentor for his children, and as a man brother to fellow warriors in the battlefields wounded, lost, and confused.

Our wives call out for the heroes of old; godly men, wild and mighty warriors who fight not only for them, but depend upon them for their contribution to the war. If we were only made to recognize chaos and destruction, it would be our standard for beauty and order. Our wives, who edify and uplift us, and stand within the gap believing in us and for us, are our equals who have willingly submitted themselves to our authority under God's plan. Submission of an equal to a position under the authority, not the dominance of another.

Our children suffer the wounding of our lack of protecting, instructing, and support as they assume their God-given purposes for the Kingdom. We have, through our own inaction and silence, created a generation of walking wounded.....not equipped or able to fight the battles that Satan brings against the faithful.

Will the warriors of the Army of God be ready to follow our Captain, the Lord Jesus Christ, into the battle to defeat the Enemy's forces once and for all? Or will we be standing beside those to whom we were accountable for and shrug our shoulders in dismay?

Simcox, "Revelation" in the Cambridge Bible; H. Cowan in Hastings, Dictionary of the Bible (five volumes), article "Nicolaitans"; H.B. Swete, The Apocalypse of John, lxxff;, 27, 28, 37.
Butler's Sermons, "Balaam"; ICC, "Numbers."

http://www.heaven.net.nz/answers/answer19.htm
http://orthodoxwiki.org/Archangel_Michael