Friends

I have been sitting back for a while now just watching the forums. I have not posted much. Only a few sporadic post. I have been intrigued with the interaction of the members here. I can't help but think we go through our daily lives and form friendships and relationships on a regular basis. Most folks, at least those who have not experienced it, do not understand the attachment that can be formed here on the internet with people we know little about. Frankly I was quite amazed myself. It is like a good series of books of T.V. shows where you suddenly find your self relating to a certain character and feel like you really know them.

I have had the pleasure of meeting many of the people posting here and look forward to meeting others in the future. I have formed friendships here that I never dreamed could exist. There are many members of these forums who have touched my life. Some at a deep level. I may not always agree with someone but I have learned a great deal just by interacting with you.

I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to those I have met, those I am going to meet and to those I may never meet this side of death. Thank you for your friendship, thoughts, prayers and just for putting up with this old country boy and overlooking my faults and misgivings.

May our Heavenly Father richly Bless each and every one of you is my prayer.

Again I just wanted to say thanks.

GOLF and LIFE

I haven’t written a blog post in quite a while. Frankly I just could not come up with anything to say. But this has been on my mind for a couple of days so I thought I would attempt putting it in writing. For those of you who do not know me there are few things outside my salvation, family and friends that I am passionate about. Southern Gospel Music and golf are at the top of that list. I started playing golf about forty years ago and really enjoy the game. Now golf is a sort that does not depend on size and strength. Anyone can learn to play golf. There are a few basic fundamentals like proper posture, stance, grip, swing and choosing the right club but, then you let the club take over and do the work. If you follow these fundamentals you will have a good game and your score at the end of the round will be good. If you do not follow these fundamentals you are asking for frustration and a lousy score. For example I played golf last Friday afternoon. I was doing quite well and playing my game and my score card reflected this. Then I got to a long par 4 hole. I was on the tee box and took a practice swing and mentally checked the swing to make sure it was right. I approached the ball and mentally checked my posture, stance and grip. I had my driver in my hand. I took a good smooth fluid swing and let the driver take over. The result was the ball flew about 270 yards down the middle of the fairway. This is where I started getting in the way. For my second shot I chose a club I have yet to master and frankly probably the wrong club for the job. I decided I could muscle the shot to the green. The result was a ball lying about 15 yards off the fairway behind some trees. Going against everything I have read and all instructions I have ever received I decided I could get the ball up and over the trees and on the green. I gave it my best shot. I could hear the ball clipping small branches but never heard the thud of the ball striking anything solid. I was elated I had gotten through. We searched the green, the area around the green including the sand traps and could not find the ball. We went back and looked around the area where the trees were to see if it had been knocked off course and still could’t find the ball. Finally I had to take a penalty stroke and drop a ball. I now have three strokes. I take the fourth stroke and chip up to the green and double putt for a 6 on the hole. All my training says I should have taken a club and punched the ball back into the fairway and then proceeded to chip. Had I followed those instructions I could have gotten a par on the hole or at worse a bogey. But I let me get in the way. As I was leaving the green I happen to look up and there firmly wedged in a fork of a tree limb was my ball about 25 feet off the ground. Now what is the point of all of this? Our walk with God is much like that golf game. When we follow the rules and instructions (the Bible) and then let God take over we do much better than when we decide to let ourselves get in the way. Just like that golf game when I get in God’s way life does not go so well. But when I leave it up to him the score card looks much better. In life we should read and follow the instructions given to us in the Bible and then just get out of the way and let Good take over and do the work. We can’t do it anyway. Here’s wishing you a good score card on the golf course but more importantly in life.

Another thought or maybe two on my previous post.

John 3:16 says "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him shall not perrish but have ever lasting life." If God went to such extremes to see to it no one perrished why would anyone believe he would create a bunch of babies that would die and go to the very place He was trying to keep anyone from going to. That would be totally against the nature of God. Jesus said he came to save the lost. He even said the well are not in need of a doctor but the sick needed a doctor. Just maybe the babies are among the well that needed no doctor. Look at the parable of the lost sheep. 99 sheep stayed where they were supposed to be and one strayed. The shepard went in search of the one lost sheep and saved it. The 99 needed no saving because they were not lost. Just maybe the babies are among the 99 sheep that were not lost. After they have never strayed from the fold. Just something else to think about.

Do Babies Go to Heaven?

It appears the answer is Yes, No, Maybe, and that's final. After much thought, consideration and prayer I have decided to blog about this topic. The answers to this question are as varied as the people you ask. No one has convinced me they have been to Heaven, took a look see, and then returned to let us know who is or is not there. Short of this miraculous happening they are all venturing into guess work. First there are who read this blog that have suffered the tragedy of the death of a baby. I have no idea how that must feel but I can imagine it must be heart wrenching. I know two people who have gone through this and I suspect there are many more. The two I am aware of I have become quite fond of over the months here on a Christian forum. To those two and any others I do not know about let me say I am sorry. Not only for your loss and the pain you endured but for your exposure to some of the insensitive statements made by others on that Christian forum. It is my sincere desire that those who have lost a baby will find comfort in this post. There is a Latin term used in the legal profession called pari materia. This simply means of like subject or must be considered together. I believe this is the way the Bible must be read. You can't pick a few verses here and there and not consider the whole. Therefore to reach the conclusions I have come to we have to take the scriptures as a whole. Yes all the way back to the beginning. God created the earth and all in or upon it. God created man(mankind). God looked upon his creation and saw it was good. God being God and therefore perfect saw his creation as perfect. Then and only then did God take a break and rest. Then comes man's fall. The original sin. Man fell prey to the temptation of satan and disobeyed God. Indications are and I believe prior to this they were perfect. Why? Because God would create nothing less. From this original sin came the sin nature we hear so much about. Exactly what is a sin nature. Does having a sin nature mean one has sinned. It does not. It simply means man has the propensity to sin. Man is prone to sin and left to his own abilities will sin. However, to be guilty of sin one must have committed sin. Then there is the sins of our fathers argument. Are we doomed to damnation for the sins of our fathers. There is no scriptural support for this theory. Are we or do we suffer because of the sins of our fathers. Yes and there is plenty of scriptural support for that. But, the suffering takes place here on earth and not in eternal damnation. For example, my great grandfather was born in Tennessee to a wealthy family. One night during a drunken brawl he pulled a knife and killed a man. He fled Tennessee in the middle of the night to avoid retaliation and hanging. He and his family ended up in Alabama. My great-grandfather spent the rest of his life working as a share-cropper on someone else's farm. All of his children and grand-children were share croppers. I believe his descendent's suffered for his sins. Will any of them go to hell for what he did. No. There is no support in the Bible for this kind of thinking. You often hear people saying we must be born again. We must become as little children. What is the significance of this? Don't leave now this is where we get to the babies. A baby is the purest form of human life there is. God formed that baby in the womb. God created that baby. From conception that baby is perfect because God would not create anything less. That baby is born sinless. It has a sin nature but it has committed no sins. So to be born again has a two fold meaning. First being born into the family of God. Second is to become sinless and pure. Think about it. The moment you were saved you were perfect, sinless(because they had been washed away) and pure. Didn't take long for that to change did it. Also Jesus said we must become as little children. What did he mean? We have to return to that pure state. That happens when we are saved. Why did Jesus come to this world? To save the lost. To be the supreme sacrifice for our sins. If we were all like little babies Jesus would not have had to suffer because we would have had no sins. So. God created everything perfect in his sight. That baby was created perfect and without sin. If for some reason that perfect, pure, precious little baby dies where will it spend eternity? Where does anyone perfect and without sin spend eternity. The obvious answer at least in my mind is Heaven. To say anything less is to say God created something that was less than perfect and sin filled. We all know God hates sin. I cannot believe he would ever create something already full of sin. That is something we do ourselves. There is a lot more I wanted to say but time restraints prevent it at the moment. I will probably post more later

Marriage and Divorce

I was married at the ripe old age of 18. The young lady was only 16. And before anyone ask, it was NOT a have to situation. The young lady was not pregnant. We thought we were in love. In reality we probably did not actually know what "in love" was. This marriage lasted a little over four years and produced a daughter before ending in divorce. And for the record, over the years we have reconciled and become friends again. After the divorce I met and eventually married a wonderful woman. We were best friends for a long time before any other relationship started. We have no been married almost 35 years and we too have a daughter. Now we have two lovely grand daughters and a terrific son-in-law. It seems that some would have me divorce myself from my wife and spend the rest of my life single. Or else be living in an adulterous relationship. Were I to do that it would not only mess up both of our lives but would really mess up the lives of our daughter, grandkids, and countless members of both sides of the family. I just can't see how God would expect or condone causing that kind of hurt to innocent parties. We are both saved and Heaven bound. We are not living in an adulterous relationship. Our lives are centered around our faith in Jesus, and our families. Yes we made mistakes in our past but that IS in our past. The wonderful thing about the saving Grace of Jesus Christ is it covers all sins. So the mistakes of our past are covered by the blood just like all our sins. To divorce now would not be solving a problem. A divorce would only serve to compound a problem and create another sin for which forgiveness would be needed. Just my thoughts on the Marriage after Divorce.

Can God use You? Or better worded Does God Use You?

Think about it for a minute. I know some of you are thinking are you crazy. God can use anything. He can loose the tongue of a donkey and make him speak. He can cause the rocks to cry out. And you are right. God can use anything or anybody. The question is does He use you? Does He use you and you don't even know it. Yes he does. I know a lot of you have the same feelings I do from time to time. We post here and there and wonder if we are doing any good whatsoever. We will venture out of our comfort zones and into some of the areas that are geared more to debates and arguments. We all get frustrated from time to time. I know I do. I often get so down I think I will just throw my hands up and quit. Don't you? I usually try to post in areas where the people are of like mind and spirit. My comfort zone. I will however visit other areas and post if I feel lead to do so. Sometimes I think I am just a glutton for punishment. Then I stop and think, why am I posting here. Am I trying to change someone's views. I hope not because I don't think that will happen. Am I simply trying to express my views? I don't know. Frankly I don't know why I even bother most of the time. I have been on several occasions ready to just say that' it I quit and stick to my comfort zones. Now this is where I get back to the heading of this post. Every time I reach this point something amazing happens. Well at least to me it is amazing. Just when I am at my lowest and want to quit I will receive a e-mail from someone that I don't know and to the best of my knowledge have had no interaction with. These simple little messages will say things like "I just had to let you know I read your post and they are funny" "I really enjoy reading your post" "Your post brought a blessing to me" "You bring a fresh air to the conversation". I may be wrong but I feel this is God's way of letting me know He is using me to brighten someone's day. To give a blessing to someone. I certainly am not capable of giving blessings on my own. This happened as recently as last night. I got a message from a someone that I don't think I have talked to that said some of these things and ended with "Don't Quit." How did this person know I was about to stop posting. This got me to thinking about all the posts I have read that touched my heart. The ones I received a blessing from. Then I thought I have never told that person what they meant to me. There is a thread in CrossWalk in the Southern Gospel folder called "Inspirations From Santa." On more than one occasion he has posted something or a link to something that turned out to be just what I needed to read at that particular moment. Something that reached down inside me and brought me to tears. I hope I told him what a blessing he had been but I probably did not. I am going to end this post by issuing a challenge to each and everyone that reads this. If someone has made a post that touched you, that you received a blessing from, that brightened your day and lifted your spirits, or simply made you smile, drop them a note and let them know. You have no idea what it means to get these little messages. If one person is blessed by something we post it makes the frustration worth living with. Until Next Time I am in His service Sam

The Old Man and the Dog by Catherine Moore

Although not written by me, this was to good not to pass on. You may want to have some tissue ready. In His Service Sam A BIT LONG BUT WORTH READING "Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone. My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers." "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.