"Heeerrs... Jabba the Hutt!

"They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of their ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart." 

Ephesians 4:18

     In my reading of the book, As It Was In The Days of Noah, I came across this exposition of the first chapter of Romans.  The author, (Jeff Kinley) presented it like a prosecutor presents evidence against someone in court, who has been charged with a crime.  I began to see that "mankind" has been charged in the court of Heaven with a horrendous crime that has affected not only all life on this earth but eternity to come.   Mr. Kinley, does such a great job of portraying Paul, the Prosecutor, that I just had to share it.  I will be condensing it here and I hope to do it justice, but I encourage you to get the book and read it for yourself.  The Apostle Paul said in Romans 1:14, "I have a great sense of obligation to people in  both the civilized world and the rest of the world, to the educated and the uneducated alike."  I quote this because that same "sense of obligation" grips me.
     Kinley starts out by saying, "Few of life's mysteries are more puzzling than the sticky tension between God's sovereignty and mankind's ability to choose."  And he ends this introduction by declaring that, "One day this mystery will be made clear."  And before you think, Oh this is just a Biblical argument that denominations get into!  You need to realize that the argument also seeps into the very secular world of Psychology.  Two camps exist there and have since it's beginning.  One "expert" argues that man's thinking and behavior is "determined" by his DNA, another argues that it is guided by his "environment".  It's the "nature vs. nurture" discussion and it's a conundrum... "one that stretches the mind" says Jeff Kinley.   But ultimately these experts are asking, "Does man have a choice in his behavior and path of life, or is it "determined" by his DNA or the way he was brought up?"
     The bible says we do have a choice and thus lays the responsibility squarely at the feet of mankind.  One man summarized it this way.  He said, "Insanity is just various grades of irresponsibility."
     So with that in mind, let's look at Romans 1 and what Mr. Kinley had to say about it.  He started by saying, "... possessing this gift of choice, those in Noah's world and our world make very similar decisions.  Noah's generation was essentially devoid of God.  He wasn't even there.  They had unanimously voted God off the island, eliminating Him completely from earth's equation."  Sound familiar?  Although we haven't reached the place where "Humanity hangs by the thread of a thin godly line," (Kinley) we are headed in that direction.  Just like in the days of Noah we are witnessing the return in our country of a God hating breed, where Heaven's message and messengers are largely ignored or mocked, (see Bill Mahar's latest statement) where people for the most part carry on "eating, drinking, and pursuing relationships, without even the slightest acknowledgement of their Creator or reflection of their responsibility to Him."  They have erased Him from their collective conscience and are working on doing this also from the culture.  But what do they actually know about God?  How can they be blamed?
     That's where the "Prosecutor" goes to work.  He says in spite of the fact that there is so much ignorance of God, He has not left mankind in the dark; instead, He has generously revealed knowledge about Himself to everyone.  Paul said, "That which is known about God is evident within them."  So what evidence do we have?
     The first witness God gave to mankind is creation itself. (Rom.1:20)  Our modern science and education system has been trying for years to stamp this out with the teaching of evolution and the mocking of anyone who dares to believe anything else.  But even though they may be convinced that the origin of the earth came through a "big bang" that just happened to happen, Paul, in Romans,  says that God's "invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature" are clearly seen and understood through what has been made.  Even the godless are awed by nature.  Ted and I took a trip on a train that traveled into Northern Canada.  It was early fall and the forest was ablaze with color.  At one point in the  trip, the train rounded a mountain and the view in front of us was so glorious, so beautiful, the colors so astonishing, that the whole car we were in, gave out an audible gasp!  In that instance, every person in that car was filled with wonder at the creation and grasped something about the Creator.   Added to the beauty of nature there's the grandeur of the skies and space beyond, and the animal kingdom and sea world, the wonders around us that are endless.  As it says in the Psalms, "The heavens tell of God's glory, and the skies proclaim the works of His hands."  Kinley says, "...disregard for their Creator-God explains the moral corruptness found in Noah's day."  Are we headed in that direction?  Romans 1 says that because of the evidence for His existence, in a way His creation can comprehend, they are "without excuse".
     But if that's not enough, God has written the knowledge of "right and wrong" in our hearts.  Everyone knows and acknowledges that lying, stealing, and murder are wrong. As a matter of fact the atheist, agnostic, and humanist brag about how they can be a "decent" person with out God, because they know the difference between right and wrong!  Kinley says that this comes to us standard, "like a computer's basic operating system, pre-programed within us."  This elementary knowledge of God is called General Revelation.  Knowing this, why do people deny the reality of God?  Paul says they "suppress the truth in unrighteousness".  In other words they choose to ignore it.  The knowledge of God is like light.  Light in darkness shows things the way they really are and makes us accountable for the way we walk through a "lighted world".  If God exists, a whole lot of issues arise that we have to make decisions about, sin, death, eternity, morality, lifestyle, love, etc... decisions we don't want to confront, and the cry of sinful man is, "Don't confuse me with the facts!  I like living in the dark!"  The Bible says, "They love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil." John 3:19
      And in the end it is all foolishness because suppressed truth is like a beach ball that a person pushes down under the water.  It is hidden for a moment but eventually will explode to the surface for all to see.  That's what will happen in a person's life who tries to "hide" what he knows is true and live according to himself rather than God.  Truth will suddenly explode in his face and all the world will see it.
     This is the results of the "freedom to choose" that we spoke of earlier.  Kinley says that wrong choices are "Perfectly legal, perfectly allowable, and perfectly foolish!" and so many in our country, our culture, our world, are headed in that direction.
     Paul goes on to describe people who choose a path without God.  In their state of denial, they assert that there are no moral absolutes.  They embrace that contradiction while defending their lives, their ways of life,and their stuff.  The beach ball always explodes in their face when they become the victim of someone else's libertarian philosophy. Or some may opt for an upgrade in their life philosophy by transitioning to a more friendly, less demanding religion, inventing their own god. (Rom. 1:23)  They pay homage to Nature itself, Mother Earth, crystals, energy or the "divine consciousness" of mankind.  Kinley says, "Instead of worshipping the eternal God, they choose something with an expiration date."   After all, we have  to serve something.  That's part of our computer programed DNA.  "We are hardwired to worship.  We cannot not worship, no matter how hard we try.  We can't help ourselves." says Kinley.

Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars

     But then there's a third choice the God haters can opt for.  It is simply to make themselves happy...commonly known as hedonism or self-worship.  "This is where the downgrade of the slope drops dramatically." says Kinley.  "When people reach the point where they pursue self-pleasure as the highest form of existence, that's when God releases the parking brake and begins letting go."  Romans 1:24, 26,28  says that's when God "gives them over" to their own desires.  They are free to live without limitations and the natural result of this choice is "impurity".  This is a word that Paul always associates with sexual immorality.  It is Divine abandonment, the very definition of being alone.  Kinley say, "What's left behind when God vacates a life are the passions and pursuits of a sinful heart."  This is deadly.  It will kill... first the body, then the soul.  A person who chooses this way will be on a spiraling descent into a sub level of a life of degrading passions. (Read Romans 1:26,27)  It is a bottomless pit of sin that eventually ends in spiritual insanity, which Paul calls a "depraved mind" (Romans 1:28) I always think here of "Jabba the Hutt", the great fat one from Star Wars.
   Kinley ends this section by saying, "Beliefs about life, relationships, and passions are now totally absorbed into the black hole of a heart eaten up with sin cancer.  Their passions rule their reason, their lives are now "filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, evil; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malice; they are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, untrustworthy, unloving, unmerciful." and, "they enthusiastically cheer on those who practice these sins."   
     What really scares me about this description is that I see it happening in our world.  America is being set up to believe the deluding influence of the Antichrist.  Part of the penalty for repeatedly rejecting God is that the mind becomes numb to truth and the heart calloused to God's love found in the gospel.  Another example of this was Pharaoh in the Old Testament, just before God's judgment came.
    I didn't see the movie Noah, but from what I understand from people who did see it, the movie did one thing right.  It clearly portrayed the people who drowned in the flood.  I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in that neighborhood.  "Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Rev 22:20.

The Long Journey Home, A Christmas Story (Part three)

"Trust Me, Try Me, Prove Me saith the Lord of Hosts

and see, if a blessing, unmeasured blessing,

I will not pour out on thee!
(words from on old Baptist Hymn)

     Perhaps those were the words that were running though my mind for the next couple of weeks after Mother's death.  They certainly were with me a good portion of the time I had left in Texas.  I'd think when they haunted my thoughts, What other "god" of any major religion on earth gives such an invitation?  I knew the words came from the Old Testament... specifically Malachi 3:10. "...prove me...,saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it."  I was learning to "follow Him".  I was learning through these painful, dark days in my life that if I would do what He tells me to do, then He, would do what He said He would do. 
     Mother's funeral was held  the following week at the First Baptist Church in Riesel, Texas.  It was a beautiful service and well attended.  Riesel was her hometown and her family had been there since the early 1900's.  My Grandpa, "Daddy Sam" as all his grandchildren called him, had been the village blacksmith.  His dilapidated old shop was one of my favorite places to visit as a child and probably one of the things that ignited my love of history.  He died before I was born so I only knew the "legend".  But that was enough to make me love him and think of him as bigger than life.  Now as an adult I realize that he was just a humble village blacksmith but as a child I saw him as a smiling, friendly, man, adored by all.  He was a German Jewish immigrant who had changed his name from Kohn to Coone.  That fact alone makes me want to research his life and family.  Were they persecuted for being Jewish?  Did they flee Germany?  It piques my curiosity.  But I digress...
     All this to say that Mother came from a fine family with a good reputation in the community.  They were Jewish by blood but Methodist by persuasion.  Somewhere along the line they became Baptist.
     After the funeral was over and all the friends and relatives had departed, Daddy and I had some huge decisions to make.  Daddy had suffered for years from Parkinson's Disease which meant he really couldn't take care of himself.  Ted's tour of duty had just begun in Spain and I couldn't stay home and take care of Daddy.  He basically had no one but me.  We talked about it for several days during which time Ted called and we talked to him about it.  Finally it was decided that he would sell the farm and come back to Spain with me.  I'd go to bed at night with my head swirling with questions.  Ted had asked, "How long do you think that will take?"  I just looked at the phone, then asked him, "How long do you think it will take?"  He laughed. 
     Along with the farm we also had livestock to get rid of, a couple cats and a dog.  The dog was Joel's little miniature Greyhound, Susie.  We had left her with them when we went overseas.  Mother had loved and petted Susie like she was her baby and the night Mother died, Susie howled all night long.   She would not be comforted.  I'd put her in bed with me, stroke her and talk to her and she'd jump down and run into the kitchen and continue howling.  Finally we put her out on the back porch and closed the door.  When we'd wake up we could hear her still howling.  It was pitiful and eerie.  I'd always heard from my East Texas relatives that dogs howl when a person dies, but I never believed it until now.  I had a lot to learn.
     We began the overwhelming job the week after the funeral.  The first thing we did was go to Waco and apply for a passport for Daddy.  The lady at the court house told us that it would take about six weeks for the passport to come in.  I felt like she had punched me.  Daddy tried to encourage me on the way home.  He said, "Why don't you just go on back to Spain and I'll try to get someone to help me with everything here?  You can't leave your family that long."
     I thought about it for a few minutes.  It was really tempting, but then I thought about everything he'd have to do, clean out the house, get it ready to show, sell all the farm equipment, the livestock and everything stored there, sell his car and fly alone to a foreign country.  I looked at him, his hands shaking in his lap, unable to even hold a full cup of coffee and I said,  "No, we are going to trust God.  He will take care of every detail, just like He has been doing."  I spoke those words with a lot less confidence than I felt, but I think it fooled Daddy.
     We went home and immediately started going through "stuff"... and they had lots of stuff.  Mother had a chest-o-drawer in her bedroom with five drawers that was full of papers and receipts.  I found receipts in there that went back to 1942!  I don't think the woman ever threw anything away.  I was tempted to just dump each drawer into the burn barrel and strike a match but I knew I needed to go through every paper.  It contained their "important" papers, such as insurance policies, marriage license, medical records, etc.  So I dumped the first drawer out onto the bed and sat down in the middle of the pile and began to sort.
     People had been checking in on us since Mother died and they didn't stop after the funeral.  Neighbors and relatives started showing up to help Daddy clean out the barn and the sheds.  Aunts and cousins came to help me with the house.  My friend helped me with the papers asking questions as she sorted.  There was a crowd there every day.  I could literally see the progress at night.  Not only did they work but they brought food!  It was good, country, Texas cooking that we were living on.  They prayed with us and cried with us and laughed with us.  They loved us.
     About the end of the first week a stranger drove into the yard and asked for "the Mr. Stanley who wanted to sell his farm".  Someone took him to Daddy who began to show him around the place.  When they finished, the man asked, "How much?"  Daddy gave him the price and the man asked, "Does that include the farm, the house, all the equipment, the livestock and the furniture?" Daddy said, "Yes, and I'll even throw in the two cats!  We're keeping the dog.  She belongs to my grandson so she'll be going to Spain with us."  The man offered his hand to Daddy and said, "Sold!"
     Daddy came in and told me excitedly, about the sale.  He was praising God.  "He's taking care of us, daughter!" he said.  Then he added.  "The buyer wanted to know how soon we could be out and I told him we didn't know because we are waiting on a passport.  He said he'd like to move in in a couple weeks."
     "Well, he'll just have to wait with us!" I said, but it did make me a little anxious.  I was afraid he'd get tired of waiting and renig on the agreement.
     Ted called than night and I was able to update him.  "Please pray that passport doesn't take five more weeks.  We still have to sell the car, get Susie to the vet and Daddy to his doctor, finish cleaning out the house and take my piano and cedar chest to an Aunt's house."  The job ahead was still very big.
     We went to the bank on Monday morning to close on the farm.  That made me feel a little better.  At least the fellow couldn't back out on the deal now, but I went home and faced the cleaning job with a feeling of desperation.  Lord, will it never end? I prayed, as I looked at a fresh pile waiting for me to sort through.  I could hear the anxiety in Ted's voice when last we talked to him.  The Harrisons, a young couple from our fellowship had moved in with him and the kids, so they could help take care of them until I got home and he was grateful for that. "But," he said, "they need their mother, and so do I."
      I got up the next morning early so I could sit at the table and read my bible.  I recognized that my faith was growing weak in spite of all the wonderful things I'd seen the Lord do since I left Seville.  I had been reading through the books of Kings and was in 2 Kings 20, the story of King Hezekiah. The story there says that Hezekiah became "sick unto death" and Isaiah the prophet came to him to tell him he was going to die. In verse one it says, "Thus says the Lord, Set you house in order, for you shall die; you shall not recover."  Well I was setting my house in order and that frankly was discouraging. So I was identifying with it on some level.  Then it went on to say that Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed.  He asked the Lord to remember how he had walked with Him with a whole heart, and had done what was good in His sight.  I said, "Lord, me too!  Where I haven't, please forgive me!" and the story goes on to say that God stopped Isaiah before he left the court yard and told him to go back and say, "I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears.  Behold I will heal you. On the third day, you shall go up to the house of the Lord...I will deliver you!"  It was a strange story and really didn't apply to me but I believed, all of a sudden that God was speaking to me!   Hezekiah then asked the prophet for a sign that God was really going to do this and he told him that the shadow of the sundial would move either ten steps backward or then steps forward. "It's your choice, Hezekiah.  Which way do you want it to move?"  Well it moved forward naturally so Hezekiah asked God to make it move backward just so he'd be sure the sign was from God.   I got so excited that I rushed out into the sunny morning and looked for shadows to start moving backward.  Now I'd like to tell you that they were moving all over the yard, but unfortunately they weren't, so I just shrugged and said, "Lord, am I losing it?"  Now I know that I wasn't "losing it" but I was "believing it" and after all is said and done, that's all He wants from me.
     I went back into the kitchen, finished my coffee and closed the bible.  I just won't tell anyone about this, I thought.  But don't you know, as soon as Daddy walked in from milking, I told him the whole story.  He said, "So?"  I said,  "What if the Lord brought everything together in three days?  What if your passport came in three days?  Could we leave?"  
     "Well, the car hasn't sold and the dog needs to go to the vet.  I guess I could take her today when I go for my doctor's appointment.  But don't set your heart on it... it's impossible."
     "Well, I'm going to work like it's possible!" I declared and dug in to my job.
     That was Tuesday morning.  On Friday morning Daddy went to the post office early then came home waving his passport.  I cried tears of amazement and joy.  It had been a little over a week since we applied for it.  "Call the airlines and book us a flight," he said.
     Over the weekend we went to church and told everyone goodbye, surrendered the keys to the buyer of the farm, sold the car to a cousin who volunteered to drive us to Dallas to catch our plane on Monday and finished our cleanup job.  Sunday after church we visited Mother's grave one last time.  I stood there looking at the new headstone crying, but running through my mind was a scripture which had been spoken by an angel.  It was, "Why seek ye the living among the dead?"  I wiped my eyes and said, "Thank you, Lord."
     We didn't have a chance to call Ted again.  "He'll be surprised when I call him from Madrid airport," I said.  That very morning in Seville, he was sitting at the dining room table with Judy and Jerry Harrison, talking about how bad he felt because he couldn't be there with me and Daddy to help us get everything done.  He said, "Maybe I should just hop the next transport to the states and go help them.  Would you keep the kids for me?"
     Judy said, "Sure, but I think you should pray about it for a day or two before you go running off to the states.  You don't know what's happening there."
     Ted said, "I tell you what... the bible say that the Lord controls the "casting of lots".  I have a pocket full of change. (He said there were at least 10 coins in his pocket, maybe more.)  I'll grab them and dump them on the table.  If they all come up heads, I'll leave today for the states.  If even one comes up tails, I'll stay home."  He dug into his pocket and grabbed the coins in his fist, opened his hand and dropped them on the table and the three of them started carefully sorting through them, looking for a "head" among the "tails".  There was not one.  All the coins came up tails.  He looked up at Judy and Jerry and said, "I guess I'd better stay put."  The next afternoon about three o'clock I called him from Madrid airport and told him to pick us up in Seville that evening.  If he'd left for the states, he would have passed us about mid Atlantic.
     Now I'm not going to try to interpret all of this.  I'd like to say I've always lived that close to God since then, but that would be a lie.  I've had ups and downs in my Christian experience just like everyone else, but so much of what happened to me at that time has sustained me and taught me to rely on God for little things.  I felt at the time like a child who was asked to cross a very dangerous road, frightened and alone, only to have his big strong Father grasp his hand and say, "Come on, we'll do this together!"  It was the time in my life that taught me to "trust Him, try Him and prove Him" like the old hymn said.  Since then I've done it over and over again and He has never failed me. 
     Another old hymn had played an important part in this story.  It was the Christmas hymn that blasted our eardrums and it's way into our minds and souls the night before mother died..."Joy to the world, the Lord has come!"  That was a time in my life when He proved over and over to me that it was all true.  He had come and He was there beside me all the way.  His promise to me had come true, He had not "left me comfortless but had come to me!"  Which makes me want to close this story with yet another hymn...

"...that soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,

He will not, He will not desert to his foes.

That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

He'll never, no never, no never forsake!"

     With this assurance there really is joy and peace and the bleakest, darkest Christmas is "Merry"!

copyright(c)lauragehrke2014  
    

     
    

The Long Journey Home, A Christmas Story (Part two)

      It was still dark when I landed in Norfolk.  We had left Rota, Spain at 8:00 p.m. but they were 6 hours ahead in time from the states.  So I collected my suitcase and another Navy bus took me to the civilian airport in Norfolk.  Since dependents were not allowed to fly in military transports within the U.S.A., I would have to catch a civilian airliner from there.
     I looked back at the Navy base as we drove out the gate and thought, It's as if they brought me to the east coast and dumped me out!  It was rather depressing, but I repeated my little verse from John 14:18, swallowed hard and combed my hair.
     I walked into the airport with my suitcase and was immediately confused by all the different airlines.  I didn't know which one to go to, so I just picked one and walked right up to the desk.  There were a few people gathering but it wasn't crowded at this hour.  I asked the lady if they had anything going to Texas today and she pointed down the row and said, "Go ask them."
     I went to the next desk and asked the same question and the guy there said, "Not for a long time.  Come see me later."
    So I looked around for a place to relax and discovered that all the hard plastic chairs lined up against the glass windows were molded for butts.  There was not a one where a person could recline.  So I sat down and nodded for a couple hours.  It was miserable and I could feel my neck growing stiff!
     I bolted awake about 7:00 a.m., rubbed my neck and looked around at the crowd.  The airport was now filled with people.  They were standing in line and wandering around looking confused and dazed.  It was December 23rd and all these people were hoping to go  somewhere else  for the holidays.  So I got in line and inched forward with the crowd.  I didn't have a ticket, didn't know if I could get a ticket and didn't really know where I wanted to go, except somewhere close to Waco, Texas.  That was my destination.  By the time I reached the front of the line I had settled on just the state of Texas.  I finally reached the desk and trying to sound calm and as if I knew what I was doing, I said, "I'm trying to get to Waco, Texas.  I'm not sure if your airline goes to Texas but I have to get there soon.  My mother is in the hospital and I don't know if she will live much longer.  I need to see her before she dies.  Can you get me home?"  I stopped suddenly, realizing I'd said much too much and the people all around me were staring at me, including the ticket clerk.  He looked at me with such pity that I thought he was going to cry.  Finally he said, "There's no way you're going to get out of here for two or three days, much less tonight!  Do you see these lines?'  He swept his arm up and down the terminal as he spoke.  "Every airline in the place has been sold out for three weeks!"  Then he asked, "Do you have a place to stay?"
     Now I  was the one about to cry.  I glanced back at my chair against the wall where someone else's butt now sat and shook my head.  I'm sure I looked like a tired, frightened, puppy dog, because he looked upset again, so I added quickly, "I'll just wait over there on the chairs."
     He stared at me, incredulously, and said, "Fine, you wait over there on the chair and I'll see what I can do for you."
     I found another chair, close enough so I could keep an eye on the fellow, but far enough away not to bother him, then I sat down to begin my vigil.  I watched until the long line of people had disappeared into the interior of the terminal, then I saw the desk clerk glance my way, to make sure I was still there.  I was praying with every breath.  Lord, You promised You wouldn't leave me and if I ever needed You, it's now!   This is an impossible situation that only You can solve. Please help that guy get me a flight and please keep Mother alive until I get home.
     I was hungry so I dug around in my purse and found a candy bar that Ted and I had bought at the BX in Rota.  As I ate it I read some more of my book and started to get really sleepy again.  I looked to my right and saw that there were two empty chairs beside me so I got up and placed my bottom in the middle one, put my purse on the arm under my head and draped my legs over the arm in front of me.  I covered up with my coat and put the book over my eyes.  I was sound asleep in minutes.
    I don't know how long I slept but I awoke after noon when I felt someone shaking me. I looked up into the face of my ticket clerk.
     "Get up! I got you a flight!" He was smiling broadly and I could tell that he was just as delighted as I was.
     "You did?... to Waco?... You got me a flight to Waco?"
     "Well, not exactly Waco, but I got you a flight to Texas!  There's a plane leaving Baltimore in an hour, going to Houston and they had a cancellation.  Is Houston close enough?"
     Well, Houston is about 200 miles from Waco but I didn't have the heart to tell him that.  I just smiled and said, "Houston is great!"  I was thinking, I wonder if this man has ever seen a map of Texas!  "But we're in Norfolk, Virginia.  How do I get to Baltimore, Maryland in an hour?"
     "Oh, we have shuttles that go to Baltimore several times a day.  I got you on one of those." he explained.  "They are expecting you up there, so just follow instructions when you get into the airport."
     I felt like a little kid, but I just looked and him and said, "I'm so grateful.  I know you must have gone to a lot of trouble to do all of this."
     "It's Christmas!" he exclaimed with a smile.  "I was glad to do it, but come on, you have to hurry or you'll miss your flight.  Is this your only suitcase?" he asked as he grabbed my luggage.
     "Yes, I can carry it.  Where do I pay for my ticket."  I asked.
     "You just follow me." he replied.  "You can pay in Baltimore."
     I followed him, practically running, through a maze of hallways.  I'm sure it was an unauthorized shortcut.  Finally we hurried down a stairway and out to where people were loading into a small plane.  He handed my ticket to the stewardess and my suitcase to a baggage handler, said something to them both, then turned and jogged back toward the terminal.
     "Thank you!"  I called after him again.  He waved an arm behind his back and disappeared into the building.  When I looked back at the stewardess she was smiling.  "You are one lucky lady." she said.  I'm sure I had a puzzled look on my face because she proceeded to explain.  "That guy stayed on duty for a couple hours after his shift ended.  He's been calling all afternoon, up and down the east coast to find you a ride to Texas."
     It almost took my breath away.  I had no idea the length he had gone to.  I went to my seat and sat down to have a good cry.  I was so overwhelmed with gratitude to him and the Lord for taking care of me.  Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve and I was on my way to Texas!  How much more blessed could a person be?  I remembered my promise from John 14:18 and said a little prayer for that ticket clerk.  I still wish I'd gotten his name, but God knows it.
     When I reached Houston I called my friend who had called Spain when Mother went into the hospital.  She told me that she would be there in three hours to pick me up.  She also said that Mother was hanging on, still conscious and waiting for me.  It was after midnight by then so I searched for another set of seats where I could contort my body into a sleeping position and went to sleep.
     My friend picked me up just as the sun was rising.  She had brought along a thermos of coffee and some breakfast rolls, so we wouldn't have to stop for breakfast.  We got right on the road and arrived at my home before noon.  As soon as I changed clothes, Daddy and I were headed for the hospital.
     I was startled by the sight of my mother.  She was skin and bones, but she smiled broadly when she saw me.  We hugged and cried as we greeted each other.  "I was so afraid I wouldn't make it in time." I blubbered.
     "Oh, I wasn't going anywhere until I saw you." she said.
     "When we left for Spain I thought I'd never see you again." I continued to stammer through my tears.
     "Well you did." she said, matter of factly.
     Daddy and I spent the rest of the day with her.  I discovered a stash of pills in between her mattresses.  She had gotten tired of taking them and was deceiving the nurses by holding them in her mouth until they walked away, then poking them under her mattress.  I fussed at her about it and she said, "They don't do any good anyway and I've been choking on them."  So I turned her in to the nurse.  While the nurse scolded her like a naughty child, Mother just smiled like she'd gotten away with something.  The nurse told Daddy and I privately that there was really nothing they could do if she refused to take her medication.  They suspected that she'd been doing that for several days and now they knew it was true.
     "It's not unusual for a person who thinks they are nearing the end to stop taking their meds.  They just get tired of it all." she explained.  We went back into her room and Daddy began his lecture to her about taking her meds.  She just sighed and said, "Oh Pete, just let me go!"
     We left about nine that night and returned the next morning by nine-thirty.  When we arrived at her room a different nurse met us outside the door.  She gently pulled us down the hall a ways and said,  You mother is out of her head this morning.  She probably won't know you."
     "What?" I exclaimed.  "She was fine when we left her last night.  She was smiling and talking.  She can't be out of her head!" 
     She was nodding as I spoke then she said, "She is... I'm just warning you so you won't be shocked by it.  It's something that happens sometimes just before a person dies.  They lose their mental abilities.  She's probably not going to be with us much longer."
     Daddy and I walked into the room, not knowing what we'd find.  She was laying on her side with her eyes closed.  "Mother," I said.  
     She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.  I sat down by her and looked her straight in the eye.  They were empty, like she was no longer there in her body.  She plainly didn't know me or anything else going on around her.
     Daddy couldn't take it.  He left the room, then after a while he came back in and we sat there, mostly silent, until noon when a nurse came in and said "You two should go find a place to eat.  It's Christmas and I don't know how many places will be open, but I'm sure you can find something.  If not, then you can go downstairs and eat in the cafeteria."
     We felt like getting away from the hospital for a while, so we went downtown.  We did find a place open.  It was a Chinese restaurant, so for the first time in our lives we had Chop Suey for Christmas dinner.  It was a bleak, sad lunch and neither of us ate very much.
     When we returned to the hospital, the doctor was in Mother's room.  he once again led us out into the hallway for a conference.  He said, "I'm releasing your mother.  You can take her home."
     "What!" I practically yelled at him.  "We can't take her home.  We don't know how to care for her.  She's too sick.  She'll die at home.  Please don't release her." I begged.
     "We can't do anything more for her here." he explained, "and if you take her home, she may regain her mind.  Sometimes familiar surroundings will cause a person to snap out of it."
     I felt panicky.  I had no idea how Daddy and I could take care of her in the condition she was in.  Neither of us had any medical training or experience with caring for the sick.  I looked at Daddy and realized that he was as scared as I was.  I pleaded with the doctor but he just shook his head.  "If this drags on for much longer, I'd suggest that you put her in a nursing home."
     Finally I said, "At least give us until morning, so we can get her bedroom ready for her."
     "Okay, she'll be ready to be picked up by nine o'clock in the morning.  I'm sorry." he added, then turned and walked away.  I think I hated that man at that moment.
     That night we drove home crying.  I was driving and wiping tears and Daddy was doing the same.  Finally he said, "I can't let her go.  I don't remember life without her."
     I didn't know how to comfort him, because I didn't remember life without her either.  I reached down in frustration and spun the radio knob.  I had turned it up too loud so a song blasted our eardrums.  It was "Joy To The World, The Lord Has Come!"
     I couldn't help but listen as that song yelled at me, then suddenly it began to sooth me like a balm to my heart.  It was shouting  it's message at me... The Lord Has Come!   Thoughts started rushing through my mind, Because the Lord has come everything will be all right!  Because He has come, we can let Mother go.  She'll be with Him and He'll be with us!
     Suddenly in my grief and fear, peace was breaking through.  I turned the volume down and said, "Daddy, we can let her go because the Lord has come.  He has been here where we are.  He's walked where we're walking and He's with us now.  He understands how Mother feels and how we feel and He will comfort us.  This is where we cash in on our faith!"
       Daddy looked at me for a minute then said, "You're right daughter.  Pull off the road."
    I pulled the car off the road and stopped there.  Daddy bowed his head and prayed..."Lord, we give her back to You and  we thank You for letting us have her all these years.  We trust You to take care of us."
    That night we cleaned her bedroom then slept peacefully.  The next morning we got up early, and drove back to the hospital.  We met them at the door where they lifted her into the back seat of the car.  She slept until we got her home.  Daddy carried her into the house like a sleeping child and we put her to bed.  She never woke up.  She slept all afternoon, awaking only once, but she still didn't know us or where she was.  After a few minutes awake she went back to sleep and slept through the night.  I slept on a couch in her room with one eye open all night.  The next morning I awoke to her calling my name.  I sat up, shocked and looked at her.
     "Aren't you going to get up and fix us some coffee?" she asked.
     I said, "Do you want coffee?"
     "Did you ever see me refuse coffee?" she asked.
     I laughed and hit the floor.  "Coffee, coming right up!"
     Mother and Daddy visited for a long time that morning.  We had propped her up on pillows so she could drink her coffee and they talked about everything they could think of.  She was concerned that he knew where all their bills were and what needed to be paid this month.  She looked at me and said, "Maybe you'd better write all this down." So I got busy and wrote everything down that she was telling us.  Finally Daddy had to go do the farm chores, so it was my turn. She asked about the kids and Ted and how I got home and what they were doing without me.  We talked and talked.  I told her all about Spain  the Fellowship that Ted pastored and his job with the Air Force there and how he went TDY to the middle east often.  About noon she said, "You know what I think I'd like to eat?"
     I perked
     "Pinto beans!"  she said.  "Could you make us a pot of red beans and corn bread?"
     "Sure!"  I replied, and got right on it.  After I had the beans boiling on the stove, I pulled out a tape of one of Ted's sermons and played it for her.  She had never heard him preach, because he became a preacher after we left for Spain.  She loved the sermon and we talked about it for a long time after I turned off the machine.  In the sermon Ted told the story of King David and his men hiding from his enemies outside of Bethlehem.  David had expressed a longing to his men and said, "Oh for a taste of the water from the well in Bethlehem! (Bethlehem had been David's boyhood home.)  Ted explained that he was longing for much more than just water, but the comforts and peace of home to quench his thirst.  That night some of his soldiers sneaked out of the camp and into the city, risking their very lives.  They drew water from Bethlehem's well and brought it back to David.  When he awoke the next morning and realized the risk they had taken and the love and devotion it showed, he poured the water out on the ground as a drink offering to the Lord.  That precious gift he gave back to God.  That water that had been sanctified by the love and sacrifice of these men was so valuable to David that he couldn't possible drink it.  It had  to go back to the Lord.
     I could see that Mother was touched by the story and it's deeper meaning hadn't escaped either of us, but as was her way, she didn't try to explain it as I probably would have.  She just smiled and asked, "Do you think David's water was as sweet as the water in our well?"
     "I don't know,... maybe." I replied.
     "When I see him, I think I'll ask him!"   She smiled again at the thought.  It was the only hint she gave me that she knew she was dying.  Then she added, "You tell Ted that he sounds like Mr. Billy Graham!"  That was a supreme compliment, coming from Mother and would warm Ted's heart for a lifetime.
     We continued to talk after Daddy came in.  An old friend stopped by and we reminisced with her for a couple hours.
     During the day Mother said several times,  "I really should get up and go to the bathroom."
     "Just let me know when you're ready and I'll help you." I replied.  "Daddy can come carry you in there."
     "No, I'm not ready yet." she'd say.  She kept putting it off.
     The evening was coming on and the beans were smelling good.  They were almost done, so I said,  "I'd better go and make the corn bread before Daddy comes in hungry."
     "Wait, before you go in there, you need to help me into the bathroom.  Your dad doesn't have to carry me.  You can help me walk."
     "Are you sure you can make it?  I can go call Daddy."
     "No, I'll be fine.  You just help me." she said.
     So I sat her up and helped her put her house shoes on, then helped her off the bed.  As we walked I realized how weak she was.  I was practically carrying her to the bathroom.  I gently sat her down and began straightening her gown when suddenly her head fell back and her body went limp.  I looked into her wide, staring, empty eyes and knew instantly that she was gone.  I picked her up and carried her into the adjoining room and laid her on the bed.  I felt for a pulse but there was none.  I was shaking so badly that my legs barely held me up, but I managed to stagger to the door and scream for Daddy.  When he reached us, he looked at her and said, "She's gone, daughter."
     "I was crying and nodding but I managed to say,  "Call the ambulance."  We sat by her side until they got there and took her away.
     Before we left the house, to follow the ambulance, I went into the kitchen to turn the fire off under the beans.  They smelled so good.  She would have loved them, I thought.
      What a wonderful, sad day it had been.  With tears spilling from my eyes I marveled at the gratitude and peace I was feeling. 

(To be continued...)

copyright(c)lauragehrke2014

The Long Journey Home, A Christmas Story (Part One)

Note:Several years ago I was given an assignment at my writer's club in Lansing, to write about my most memorable Christmas. My mind went immediately to the Christmas of 1968. It's not my "merriest" Christmas, but it certainly is my most memorable. I thought, as my Christmas gift to you, it would be nice to repost it. The story is one of my longest blogs, so I've told it in a series of three. I hope you enjoy it enough to read all three. "Merry Christmas to you all!

     We had been in Spain for a little over a year, when I received a call to come home.  We were on our second tour to that country with the U.S. Air Force,.  My mother was very sick  when we left the states and wasn't expected to recover.  I feared when we left her, that I may never see her alive again.  I had watched her disappear in my rear view mirror, when our car pulled away from their home and I cried for most of the trip north. There we'd leave the states for Europe.  Knowing how sick she was, I talked to a friend the night before we left and told her to call me only if she thought Mother was not going to make it.  I knew I couldn't be coming back and forth every time she went into the hospital, but if my friend called, I would believe her and come home as quickly as possible.  She promised me she'd do that.
      It was just before Christmas (December 22) and Ted was Temporary Duty (TDY) in Turkey when  the call came in.  Ted's Commander and friend, Major Miller, came to our house and said, "Laura, we just received a call from Texas.  Your Mom is in the hospital and you need to go home."  I began to cry and asked him to have a seat in my living room and wait for a moment.
     I ran upstairs, sat down on the bed and cried and prayed for a few minutes.  My mind was scrambling.  What would I do with my kids?  How am I going to get home? (We were always broke.)  Would Mother live until I got there?  Who is taking care of Daddy?  How can I leave my family?  How could I not go home?  I felt frightened and alone.  I grabbed my bible from the night stand and opened it.  I didn't know what I was looking for but I began to pray.  I needed a word from God.  I flipped the book open and looked down at it.  My eyes fell on John 14:18 where Jesus said, I will not leave you comfortless but I will come to you!  I closed the book and wiped my eyes.  "Okay," I said aloud, "I'll believe that, no matter what happens in the days to come!"
     I went back downstairs to find the patient Major sitting on my couch.  "I need to talk to Ted.  I don't know what to do about a whole bunch of things and I need his input."
     "Okay, we'll go to the chapel and I'll put a call through to him."  (We didn't have phones in our homes and only in an emergency could one call a husband on TDY.)  Major Miller didn't need an emergency, even if this one didn't qualify.  So within the hour I was talking to Ted on the Chapel telephone. 
      "There's no way I can come home right now but you can ask someone in the Fellowship to take the kids until I get there,  I'll probably be home in a week." he said.  I felt a little better after I talked to him.  "Pray for me!" I said and hung up.
     When I left the Chapel office the Major said, "My wife and I will take your kids until Ted gets home and I've booked you on a transport leaving the Navy base at Rota tonight.  The Chaplin said he'd run you down there.  Can you be ready in an hour?"
     I felt like I was in a whirlwind, but I nodded and at the same time worried about money.  I went home and packed a suitcase and a big purse, made sure I had my passport and left in our car to drive to the chapel where it would be parked until Ted got home.  
     Chaplin Mixon met me in the parking lot and handed me an envelope of money.  "That should be enough for food and a ticket to Texas, when you reach to states."  I accepted the money with a lump in my throat, so big I could barely thank the man.  I never knew where it came from.
     When we arrived at the Rota terminal, I went straight to the check-in desk and told the sailor on duty that I was booked on a transport leaving tonight.  I gave him my name and my Air Force I.D. and he never looked up.  He just asked, "Do you have a passport?" 
     "Yes," I said, confidently and began digging in my massive purse.  I dug and dug and searched and searched.  Finally, in a panic, I went over to a chair and dumped the contents of the thing onto it.  I then picked up my suitcase and put it on the chair and started rummaging through it.  Chaplin Mixon began to "help" me, much to my embarrassment, as he took out items that were meant "for my eyes only".   Finally, I walked back to the desk and said, "The answer to that question is, no, I don't have my passport.  It's probably back in Sevilla."
    Without looking at me still, he started shaking his head, then he said, "Sorry, you can't board that plane without a passport."
     I looked at the Chaplin, once again close to tears and he had a look of panic on his face, but he quickly got it together and asked, "Where do you think it is?" 
     "I checked it before I left the house and it was in my purse.  I took Timmy over to the Major's house but I didn't take my purse out there.  I don't know what happened to it!"
     "Don't worry about it. You just have a seat here and I'll go back to Sevilla and look for it until I find it.  You just pray.  The Lord will lead me to it.  I'll try to be back before the plane leaves.  If not then there will be another one.  I'll have the Major call back down here."  Chaplin Mixon was so confident and comforting,  I wanted to hug him but I just said, "Don't speed, be careful.  I'll be sitting here praying."
     He left for his two hour trip back to Sevilla and I sat down on a chair next to a window so I could watch the planes come in and take off.  I was still sitting there at 7:00 p.m. when my transport went wheels up on the tarmac!  I went back to the desk to find that the indifferent desk clerk had gone off duty and been replaced with a friendly guy, so I poured my story out to him and he listened with compassion.  Finally he said, "I wish I could tell you there would be another plane in soon, but all we have scheduled at the moment is one coming in tomorrow evening, headed for the states, but it's loaded with ammunition and civilians are not allowed to fly on it...I'm sorry."
     I swallowed hard and continued my story.  I told him why I had to get home as soon as possible and that my husband was TDY in Turkey and I really wasn't too savvy about military travel and my Chaplin, who had brought me down here, had gone back to Sevilla to look for my passport and I had left my little kids... he just looked at me and I could see him thinking, What a mess!  But he shook his head in pity and said he'd do everything he could to help me get on a plane.
      I went back to my window seat in the now empty airport and sat there silently, vacillating in my mind between sheer panic and determination, bouncing between worrying and trusting.  I'd worry awhile then I'd grit my teeth and repeat, "I will not leave you comfortless but I will come to you!"  After a while I heard someone call my name.  It was Chaplin Mixon.  He was walking toward me waving my passport!
     I gasped then asked, "Where was it?"
     "In the floorboard of your car.  It evidently fell out of your purse when you put it in or took it out of the car.  Fortunately, I looked there first, so I was able to come right back."
     Then I did hug him.  He turned about three shades of red. (He was a shy, single man.) Then he wanted an update on the flight situation.  I told him how I'd watched my plane disappear into the "wild, blue yonder" without me.
     "Laura, that wasn't your plane." he said.  "The Lord has one for you.  You're just going to have to wait for it."
     I told him then about the one coming in tomorrow evening loaded with ammo and he said something like, "Hang in there, Sister!"
     He left me there with some trepidation.  He even volunteered to stay with me until I left but I assured him I'd be all right and asked him to check in on the kids for me.  I hadn't been able to say good by to Joel and Kelly who were in school when I left and I was concerned that they would be upset.  He told me he would and that he would report to the "Fellowship" about the days events.
     I'd settled back down to wait with my passport tucked safely inside the zipper pouch of my purse when my "friendly sailor" came to fetch me.  "Your husband is on the phone." he said.  I almost ran to the desk and grabbed the phone, so happy to be talking to him one last time.  I poured out my tale of woe, cried a little, laughed a little and felt a lot better.  He said he was so sorry he couldn't be there with me and assured me he had talked to the Major and the kids were okay and he'd try to call me again after I got home.
     When we finished talking I went to the vending machines to buy something to eat then, started back to my chair.  The sailor at the desk stopped me and asked, "Do you want me to call a taxi for you?"  
     "No, I'll just sleep in the chair, thank you."
     "Oh, you don't have to do that." he said.  "There's a lounge down the hall where you can wait.  It has a cot and a recliner where you can stretch out.  It's an officer's lounge, but there are none of those here tonight.  I'll call you if something comes in."
     With that promise I dragged my weary body to the lounge and laid down with a book, hoping I could go to sleep and forget about my troubles for a while.  I tried the cot and found it very uncomfortable so I switched to the recliner and before long I was sound asleep.
     About midnight a knock on the door awakened me.  The sailor stuck his head in the door and said, "Sorry to wake you, but your husband is on the phone for you again."  I looked up and thought, For goodness sake!  Why isn't he asleep?  He must be worried too.
     I went back to the phone at the desk and picked it up.  Ted said, "Laura, can you see the flight line from where your standing?"
    I asked, "What do you mean?"
   He asked again, "Can you see the flight line?"
    I stretched the phone cord as far as it would go and looked around the end of the desk.  I looked through the glass doors where the planes taxied up and deplaned.  There sat a big one, its engines still whirring and lights blinking.  It had just landed.
     "Yes, I see a plane." I said.
     "Hang up the phone and keep watching it." he said.
     "But why?" I asked the empty phone line, so I hung it up and walked over to the doors and watched as men began to come down the stairs.  Suddenly I saw a familiar face!  It was Ted!  He was smiling and waving and rushing down the stairs toward me.  I burst through the doors and ran to him.  We stood there hugging and both talking at once, me with the questions, him trying to answer them.  He explained as we walked toward the terminal that Major Miller had pulled some strings and Ted had been given permission to leave for home as soon as he could get a plane out of Turkey.  One hour after he got the word, he was on a plane to Rota.  (It just happened to be flying from Athens to Rota instead of directly to Sevilla.)  We laughed and wondered if our kids were already driving the Millers crazy.  "Way to go, kids!" said Ted.
     So here he was in Rota, the very terminal where I had been detained for the night.  We went in and explained it all to the desk clerk and told him we'd be spending the night in the lounge and if Ted couldn't get a plane to Sevilla the next day, he'd call a friend to come get him.
     We went back to the lounge to settle in for thr night.  we were trying to fit our two bodies into the one recliner when the sailor stuck his head back in the door.  "There's a Navy car going to a motel on the beach to pick up an officer.  Would you like to hitch a ride with him and get a room for the night?"
     Ted looked at me and asked, "Do you have any money?"  
     "I have about a thousand pesetas." I replied.  That was about $10.00 in American money.
     "That will be enough," said the sailor."
     Must be some motel!  I thought.  But we grabbed our luggage and rushed out to the car.  We drove a while through the city of Rota and finally wound our way to the beach on the Mediterranean Sea.  The view was breath taking.  Moonlight bathed the water as the waves crashed on the shore.  It distracted me until I heard Ted said, "Laura, look at this place!"
     I turned my attention back to the "motel" and couldn't believe my eyes.  It looked like a Spanish castle.  We drove into a marble overhang that was lit by a sparkling chandelier.  Ted said to the driver, "You'd better wait for us. I doubt we'll be able to afford this place."
     We went in and walked up to the desk.  Ted asked the desk clerk, "Do you have something for a thousand pesetas?  I was blushing and hiding behind him. 
     The man smiled and said, "Well, since it's off season and you are two of four guests in the whole place... I'd say, yes we have something for about 800 pesetas."
     Ted went and retrieved our luggage from the Navy car, before the man could change his mind, then a bell hop led us up a wide, white marble staircase to a large room.  My mind was reeling from the first sight of that room. The walls were white and the floor was white marble.  All the furniture was dark wood and everything else was a rich red color including the drapes, the bedspread, the pillows, the scarves and the ... it was beautiful!  The bell hop walked over and opened the double doors to the balcony and as the cold December air rushed in, we caught a glimpse of our view.  Once again we watched the sea roll and crash and simmer in the moonlight.
     The man started to close the doors but Ted stopped him.  "Leave them open, please.  The view is so wonderful!"
     He smiled at Ted and said, "You have the honeymoon suite."
     Later we bathed in a round tub with gold plated accessories, then drifted off to sleep snuggeling under layers of blankets and listening to the mezmerizing sounds of the sea.
     The next morning we were awakened at 10:00 a.m by a knock on the door.  There stood a waiter with hot coffee, rolls, butter and honey.  It was then that I realized that God was being faithful to His promise to me from John 14:18.  He had not left me comfortless.  He had sent my husband to me who had real arms to hold me and had given us a night together, on the Mediterranean Sea in a Spanish palace!  It was a night I will never forget and I was a little emotional as I accepted the tray from the waiter.
    

Our taxi ride back to the base about noon, cost, (you guessed it,) our last 200 pesatas.  When we arrived at the terminal the man at the desk said that the transport coming in with ammunition, would be unloading there, then continuing on to Norfolk, Virginia.  That meant I could ride that far with them.  They were scheduled to leave at 8:00 p.m.
     Ted and I  got sandwiches out of the vending machines, then walked a couple blocks to the base Chapel, where we spent the afternoon singing while I played hymns on the piano.  We felt at home there in the empty Chapel. After that we shopped a while in the BX where Ted bought several sacks of gummy bears for the kids, then we took a bus back to the terminal.  We made it just in time for me to board.  Ted walked me out to the plane, kissed me good by and instructed the steward to "take care of me". 
     I entered that plane confident that God really was in control and that I would make it home in time to see my mother again.  I felt the comfort of Ted's love, the prayers of Christians and the care of my Heavenly Father, as I settled down on a long jump seat in the noisy, cold transport.  Just before I drifted off to sleep the Navy steward covered me with a scratchy, wool blanket and said, "Sleep well!" ...and I did. 

(To be continued...)

copyright(c)lauragehrke2014
 

"Snappy Easter!"

     For years I taught a lady's Sunday School class at Butternut Bible Church.  The class was quite large and on Christmas and Easter attendance climbed to thirty or more ladies.  One year I didn't have time to sew Easter dresses, as was my custom, for myself and my two daughters.  So Kelly, who was a teenager at the time, begged me to let her make them.  She was quite a budding seamstress, fearless and talented and did a great job on everything the sewed, so it wasn't hard to trust her with it.
    We went to the material shop and picked out simple patterns that she could put together quickly.  She went to work the week before Easter and completed her's and Jennifer's in a short time.  For some reason though, she put mine off until the last minute.
     So there she sat, Easter Eve, sewing frantically on my dress. It was just about finished at bedtime.  I tried it on and it fit perfectly.  All she had to do was add buttons and buttonholes.  That was going to be a big job because they ran down the front of the dress.  I looked at it and said, "It's going to take you a while to do that job. It may be too late.  Don't stay up late. If you don't finish it I can wear last year's Easter dress."
     Well I should have known better.  Kelly has always been a determined person.  When she starts something, she finishes it.  I could tell by the look in her eyes that she would not give it up.
      The next morning I got up to see my new dress completed, pressed and hanging in the dinning room.  When I put it on however, I discovered that she had taken a short cut.  Instead of buttons and buttonholes down the front, Kelly had sewn large snaps.  I tested a couple and found them to be very strong, so I put the dress on and went to church.
     I breezed into class, a little late as usual, greeted the Easter crowd, and accepted their compliments on my new dress with a proud, "Thank you, my daughter Kelly made it!"  At that time I used an overhead projector to teach, so I proceeded to set it up and pull a stool up beside it.  The class became quite after our opening prayer and I sat down on the stool, then I twisted to the side to turn on the projector.  As I turned, I heard a  metallic rip as every snap on that dress popped and as easily as Gypsy Rose Lea shed her hottest stripper's gown, my dress fell open. There I sat, exposed in all my half-naked glory, listening to a room full of women howling in laughter. As the laughter subsided and I snapped up the dress, I stammered, red faced, "How's that for an entrance?"

"...the days of Noah."

     Because of the movie, Noah there is a renewed interest in the story of the great flood that destroyed the ancient world. My interest has certainly piqued, so I decided to look into it further.
     First of all, the movie is not the biblical story.  According to one researcher it was taken from the Jewish, Gnostic religion, Kabbalah.   It's not Christian or even traditional Judaism, so I decided not to spend my time and money on it.  Just know that if you go see it you're not watching the Noah of the bible.
     I started my "research" in Genesis 6 by re-reading the biblical story, then I bought a book on the subject. I'd recommend it. It is As It Was In The Days of Noah by Jeff Kinley and as it advertises on the cover, it's "riveting". 

Noah's Ark

     The biblical story is sketchy to say the least.  Moses evidently didn't feel the need to elaborate.  If you're interested in deeper historical and scientific study on the subject I'd also recommend, Creation Research Society.  They can be found on the net and they have done probably the best and most comprehensive research on the account.
     However, my point of interest was not the worldwide flood or even the ark, but the man, Noah.  The Old Testament story says little about him but for two simple little statements..."But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord." Gen. 6:8  Then it went on to say..."Noah walked with God." Gen. 6:9 These two statements are remarkable and warrant further investigation.  Most people want to know how did Noah, "find grace (favor) in the eyes of the Lord" and how  did he "walk with God"? The answer to these questions are perhaps the most valuable information a person can find in this life. They are especially surprising in the life of a man who lived in Noah's time.  As a Christian I have met many people who I believe find "favor" in God's eyes and who I'm convinced "walk" with Him daily.  In the "days of Noah", however it was much different.  There were not enclaves of people who agreed with each other, prayed for each other, ate together, communed together, worshiped together on a regular basis and therefore strengthened the faith of one another.  Noah and his family were basically alone in their faith, in a world that was described by Jeff Kinley as being in a "worldwide sin-frenzy". 
    Noah's life did overlap his father, Lamech who was a godly man and who I'm sure encouraged his son's faith and probably helped him with the building as long as he could.  It also overlapped Methuselah, his grandfather who was the oldest man in recorded history at 969 years old when he died.  Methuselah probably wasn't able to give much assistance in the building of the ark, but I'm sure he sat by, watched his grandson and encouraged him in his task and in his faith.  So Noah wasn't entirely alone.  (By the way, Methuselah means "when he is gone, it shall be sent" or "his death shall bring it".  The exact year that Methuselah died, the flood came.)  Noah came from a godly family and the faith he demonstrated was strengthened by their faithfulness to God.  It had been passed down to him and he in turn passed it on to his sons.  But in the end, he became the only one left in a wicked world who "walked with God" and he stood strong.  His strength to work on the ark for 120 years had been built like an oak tree, layer upon layer.  God had been building a man to do His work on this earth.
     I'm sure Noah had his moments of weakness, moments when his body ached, when the scoffing of his neighbors chipped away at his resolve, moments when he hadn't heard from God for a while and doubt began to worm it's way into his mind.  But going through these things and coming out on the other side, with his faith intact, only served to strengthen him.
     He had been called to what we would see as a ridiculous, almost crazy task.  God asked him to build a cruise ship sized boat on a plain in the middle east where it had never even rained before.  The cost to him and his family was immense, in every way, physically, mentally, and economically. He literally had to give his life to a job that seemed useless and well,.. .insane!  But Noah was convinced  of God's call and purpose for him.  In a word, he believed  God.  Only a person who "walks with God" daily can have that kind of resolve.  He believed God not because of something he had read or of some off repeated mantra but because he communed with Him on a daily basis.  He worshiped Him and asked for His protection and provision and waited to see Him come through for him.  He lived  with his unseen God every day of his life. That kind of living takes faith out of the realm of the imaginary and brings it into  hearts and minds and out through hands, feet, and mouths.  Noah's faith had been hardened like a muscle and in the end prevailed because what God said he would do, He did. God vindicated him and saved his family from destruction.
    Because of that faith, Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.  In Hebrews it says, "By faith... he built the ark for the saving of his household" and "condemned the world (around him)  and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith."  So it wasn't the building that saved him, the cleaning up after two of every kind of animals, in a floating barn, during the worst storm in history for 40 days and nights, or even his faithful preaching to hateful, debauched neighbors for 120 years, but his continued trust that God would do just what He said He'd do.  That is the importance of the story of Noah.  This is what we need to glean from it and what we need to guard from Hollywood or any others who would try to distort it. 
     Personally, I don't think I could do it.  Never mind the building which would been impossible for me.  The tending of the animals would in itself put me off.  Can you imagine the noise and  the smell?  I can barely tolerate the noise of the birds on a spring morning or the smell of the cat box in the winter.  But then God hasn't given me Noah's job and the one He has given me is so puny compared to his.  My "walk" with God is so much easier than his was and I'm grateful for that.  Having said that, I do face challenges to my faith and I continue to pray for some of that "oak like" muscle to face them every day.   After researching Noah, I think God's up to that task. 

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