Month: March 2019

Monday mornings seem to be the hardest time for me to put thoughts to paper. But this morning is even a little more difficult than normal. During the school year we are up by 4:30 AM at the latest so by the time I sit down to write, we have usually been up for three hours or more. Not so this morning. Because this is the day of my quarterly cancer checkup, RuthAnn took the day off to be with me. It is a loving gesture on her part, and I love her for it, but we did not get up and going as early as usual. Or maybe I should say, I didn’t. She was up and doing her devotions at 4:00 while her sleepy husband did not get up until after six.

So here I am later than normal and even though I slept longer than my usual 6 or 7 hours I still have a foggy brain. All that to say I am struggling to write a coherent blog. Even so I know that I have prayed to share something worth while and know the Holy Spirit has something for that purpose.

The one thing for sure is that I have been being led lately in ways that have made me take pause and wonder if I have been doing all that I can to serve the Lord as he wants me to. As I stated in my blog on Friday, last week was one of those times when God is truly doing all to speak in ways I could understand and relate to. His message was clear and, in some ways, stinging. It comes down to that I am not doing all I can to reach the lost, especially those who could benefit the most from my testimony.

Sure, I have shared it here for nearly two years now. And I believe that this blog has and will reach some who need to hear that our God seeks to save all including those who do not believe in him. I have also spoken in churches sharing the same message. I do not stand before a congregation to preach but to share God’s power to save through my testimony. But is that enough for me? Is what you are doing to share his love with others enough? Is there ever a place or time where we are doing ‘enough’. I think if we look to Jesus the answer to that is simple. Simple yet a bit scary, because of the words Jesus spoke pertaining to how much we should be willing to give if we are true followers of his.

“If you were of the world, it would love you as its own. Instead, the world hates you, because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. Remember the word that I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will persecute you as well; if they kept My word, they will keep yours as well” (John 15: 19-20) Reading Jesus words what then is enough? According to what he is saying we cannot be of this world and if we are not then the world will hate us. Hate us enough to be persecuted. Hate us enough to kill us as they did Jesus. Isn’t that scary? Isn’t that extreme? Did Jesus really mean what he said? Can’t we just do the comfortable things? Can’t I just write a blog from the comforts of my home or speak to like believers in a friendly church. If I believe Jesus and believe his words, then I need an answer to all of this, so, yes it can be scary. And yes, it is extreme and yes Jesus knew the cross was our only way of salvation and it was extreme for the Creator to die for his creation, can we expect anything less for ourselves. And more so, no writing a blog is not enough. Nor is speaking to like believers going to fulfill God’s call. It will only be when I am willing to surrender all to him and live every day and every minute seeking to share what he has done for me, no matter the consequence that I will hear Jesus say, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful in a few things. I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness.” (Matthew 25:33) These are words I long to hear.

I told you I was not extremely coherent this morning and if these disjointed thoughts have left you more confused than fulfilled, I pray they have at least made you think of where your life is now. How much are you willing to surrender. A quarter, half, maybe three-quarters? Is it enough? That is the question I leave with you all. I know my answer, how about you.

Blessings John
3/11/19

I started out this morning writing a completely different blog. Spending almost an hour writing, I came to that place where I just knew it was not what the Lord wanted me to share. You know, I really hate when he does that. I mean, here I had this story I so wanted to tell, over 500 words written and nothing else would come. That happens almost every time I do not seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance before writing. In the end I know that if I am writing just to share John’s thoughts, well, there isn’t much I can inspire you with today or any day for that matter. So here are the thoughts He has given me.

Have you ever had one of those weeks where it is almost like a ‘theme week’? You open a book and there it is the very thing you had just studied in the Bible. You decide to listen to a sermon, which I do often when I am driving alone, and there it is again. Well, that has been my week. In fact, it was so intense around Wednesday I wrote my blog about it. Some of you might have read about the faithful fish. The story from back in the day was brought to mind because the whole idea of faith has been in just about everything I have done this week.

I think the most interesting part of this is that the question has been posed from several different sources, “If faith is so important, then why do we as a people and me as an individual not be able to share it and its meaning with the world?” I have to tell you that this has caused some consternation and contemplation in the past couple of days.

I think the thing that set it off happened as I was listening to a sermon where the speaker shared his ideas of how we could and should share what faith means to us with atheists. As I listened, I thought, yeah, this guy has got some good points, but as a former atheist I would have laughed at the points he made. Don’t get me wrong, they had all the bells and whistles of doctrinal believe. Lots of theological and truly Biblical evidence that should convince the most skeptical. But the speaker only grazed over the one thing I think could and did stop even this (myself) confirmed atheist, a life changed by faith. That by believing anyone could be transformed.

This morning RuthAnn was re-reading my Wednesday blog, in all honesty because she was looking for one of my many grammatical errors. Being a teacher, she is my editor, when I let her. But as she read, she said, “You need to write more about this subject.” Meaning faith. But as I thought of that, all the things God has laid before me this week ran through my mind and in the end the only thing, I could come up with was this simple statement: “I once was a drunk and a drug addict and now I am not.” That is my faith statement. Yeah, I can embellish it and tell you how it happened, but the truth is that if I was talking to an atheist today, that would be it. Jesus Christ has changed me from being who I was, and he does it time and time again. One person at a time.

I have talked about how I came to the Bible and yes as I read it, I knew my life was going to be changed. But I am going to tell you, I needed something more to break through the hard-hearted man I was. It came in the testimony of one woman, her name is Cheri Peters. Abused, abandoned to the streets so young. Drugs, prostitution. The depth of degradation ready to commit suicide, yet the love of Jesus Christ reached her even there. When I heard that testimony for the first-time faith became real. If you have not heard her story just google her. It will amaze you how God has used this one woman. It did me and I knew from that point I must share my simple testimony. All the glory to God!

I bet there are some of you out there saying, “Well, I have never been a drunk. I have never used drugs. I have been in the church all my life. What is my faith based on?” My friends, that is a question you need to answer. And you need to answer it today. Every one of us has a “God story” and it is what this dying world needs to hear. Pray today. Seek God with all your heart.

This week God has answered my prayer for how I can draw closer to him. Recognizing again that it was “…by his stripes we are healed.” That my testimony should be on display every day and this blog is not about my stories but how he saved me from my stories. It is a good way to end this week. Knowing I don’t need 1000 words to express my belief, my faith, it is that simple statement: “I was lost and now I am found!”

Blessings and Happy Sabbath,
John
3/8/19

We had drove over 30 miles, the last 5 or so on a deeply rutted logging road. Now we were walking. It would be about 2 miles to reach the beaver dam pools of the Rock River. My partner and I had been up here every year at the beginning of fishing season.

As usual the walk was a challenge. Both of us had hip waders on and were carrying our fishing rods. I had just bought a ‘break-down’ Wonder Rod made by Shakespeare and it was easier to carry because it disassembled into four sections. Kerry was not so lucky, he had the standard fly rod and because it only had two sections, he was struggling to make it thru the tag elder brush without getting snagged often. Both of us were also carrying creels that contained our flies and would serve as storage for the number of fish we had faith were going home with us by late this afternoon.

After walking for about a half hour we came upon the river. It was not much of a river here and you could walk across it in two or three steps. The rest of our trip would follow it until we reached the plain where the beaver must have been building their dams for a millennium.

Kerry was leading the way and talking as he went. Most of the time he was a good fishing partner and we spent a lot of our time together in silence as we concentrated on our goal, landing the perfect brown or brook trout. But now he was talking away and not really worrying if I was listening or not, it seemed. For my part I was happy I did not have to look interested, as I would have if we were sitting face to face or next to one another in a bar. But suddenly he said something that actually caught my interest. “John, do you have faith in fish?” I was like what is this guy talking about. I think I mumbled, “Ker, I have faith in few things, but fish are not one of them.”

With this he stopped and I not paying attention almost ran into him. “No, man, no. You don’t get it.” I was thinking that is for sure, this guy has smoked one to many doobies. He continued, “Listen, fish are one of the few things in life you can have faith in.” I think at this point he saw the look on my face and said, “Hear me out! Ok, we come up here every year, right?” I just nodded affirmatively. He continued, “We do that because we have faith in fish. I mean, we know if we come up here the fish are going to be here, and we are going to take home a creel full. John, if I did not believe that would I do all this for nothing?”

I wanted to point out that maybe my faith was in the pool where the fish were so plentiful. But I guess in his mind that was the same thing. So instead I said, “Alright, Ker, I guess I have faith in fish or at least the fish here. But not all fish because some of them can be very fickle and not want to hit my fly….” Kerry wasn’t sure if I was kidding or not, but when I shook my head and laughed, he did too. I pushed him forward, “Let’s go catch some of those faithful fish, the mosquitos are pretty faithful too and they are eating me alive!” Kerry turned and headed for the beaver dams about a half mile ahead. I shook my head in humorous disbelief, “Faithful fish, I think now I have heard everything!”, I muttered.

Faith is a mysterious thing, or I used to think so. I can’t really say I had much faith in anything by the time I reached my mid 20’s. I guess as a kid growing up in the Catholic Church I thought of faith as a structure. I would hear my mom say, “Those friends of yours are not of our faith, I don’t think you should hang around with them.” So, I guess, I thought faith was like a disease, if I hung around with those kids, I might catch their ‘faith’. And according to my mother that would mean eternal damnation.

People have always thrown the word around. Back in the 60’s you would hear things like, “Keep the faith, baby!” It always seemed so hollow or empty in some way. Without knowing it I lost faith because I never found the true meaning of it. Can you believe it, I was in my mid 50’s before I found a definition that I thought made sense? It was found in the book of Hebrews, Chapter 11.

Here is how that chapter begins, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1) I heard that when I was listening the Bible through for the first time. Walking and listening to an MP3 player, I had to stop. It struck me like a lightening bolt. That was a definition I had never heard. And a verse later this is written, “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.” (Hebrews 11:3) “Faith is believing that by God’s word all things were made and made of nothing or nothing we understand. Faith is believing God is who he says he is. That day I saw the possibility of that and as Chapter 11 goes on to describe all those of the Old Testament who believed, most without seeing, faith started to make sense for the first time in my life.

The funniest part of my story is that when we got to the pools above the beaver dams, we caught nothing. I teased Kerry all the way home about the ‘unfaithful’ fish. It became our catch phrase every time we got skunked (didn’t catch fish), we would say, “The fish weren’t very faithful today!” I am blessed today to know we have a God who is always faithful. If you are struggling with the idea of faith, try reading the Book of Hebrews, it changed my life. The 11th chapter is called the ‘Faith Chapter’. My faith now is in a God who loves me so much he would die just for me, that is the evidence I needed to believe. And that is our God. This is not just another fish story!

Blessings John,
3/6/19

The woman in line seemed familiar. Of course, there were two people between her and myself and I had only seen her profile, but there was certainly something about her. The checkout line was long, and this didn’t seem to concern those in charge of the store, because no second cashier was being called to alleviate this situation. Normally this would irk me, but today my mind was occupied with the mystery woman in line ahead of me.

These kinds of instances seemed to be happening more frequently these days. I was sure some of it was just getting older, slower on the uptake. But most of it had to do with meeting people while under the influence. And seeing I was in that condition often, during my sober and lucid moments I had a lot of these ‘ghost’ memories. The scary part of this was I would never be sure if I had done something that was insulting or embarrassing while in the presence of the person, so I was always remiss in approaching them. In this case though it was she who approached me.

She had reached the cashier and was checking out. In the meantime, the store had finally saw the dilemma of their single check out line and called another cashier to the front. The two people in front of me must have thought their chance at quicker check out lie with the new cashier, so I was advanced to next in line behind the mystery lady. With all the commotion of moving grocery buggies she turned just as I pulled up behind her. I could see she recognized me also, but there was no humor in the recognition. Ahh oh, what had I done this time.

She returned her attention back to emptying her groceries on to the slowly moving conveyor and the cashier continued to ring up her goods. I tried to be occupied with the magazines lining the racks near the check out but every now and again stole a glance toward the woman. She finally spoke, “I can see you remember me, but I bet you do not even know my name.” I gave her my best innocent look, then tried looking behind me as if to say, “Are you talking to me?” She wasn’t going for it, “Yeah, John, I am talking to you. Do you remember my name?” This was not going well.

I stuttered a bit and then said, “Ahh, …well, it is right on the tip of my tongue but…” She humphed, and said, “I thought so. Even after we talked for at least two hours and I gave you my phone number. Is ok. I knew you were one of those kinds of guys. I am just glad I ran into you to confirm it.” With that she turned to the cashier who was pricing her last items. Paying her the cash and receiving her change she gave me one last nasty glance and headed out. I tried to think of something to say that would put me in a better light, something I could shout to defend myself, but nothing came. As I started loading my groceries on the belt, I could see the cashier had heard every word of our brief conversation and now she was also giving me the ‘you dirty dog’ look. Just another beautiful day in the neighborhood.

For those of you who have never over indulged or in the less politically correct terms, ‘gotten drunk out of your skull’, you might never have experienced something like I have just described. For me this incident was one of many. My problem with alcohol was that I could never drink one or two, I always drank for oblivion and I most always succeeded. Whole nights and sometimes whole series of days were lost in the fog that extreme drinking induces.

I am sure that there are people out there that can explain the physical phenomenon, but I want more to address the spiritual. One of the fruits of the Spirit is self-control. For those of you who are not familiar with these fruits here is the most popular list of them, “…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22) Do you see that one right on the end, that is what I am looking at today. In actuality substance abuse, including alcohol, kills every one of these fruits. I could give you an instance when I lacked each one under its influence. But it is when I gave away my self-control to alcohol that all other things happened.

The amazing Book of Proverbs has several things to say about self-control and alcohol abuse here are just a few:

“Like a city that is broken into and without walls Is a man who has no control over his spirit.” (Proverbs 25:28).

“Wine is a mocker, strong drink a brawler, and whoever is intoxicated by it is not wise.” (Proverbs 20:1)

Both of these show the nature of those who have lost control to any substance. And I know that under the influence I have done things I still cannot recall and even worse things I recall that I can never take back.

So, I guess my point today is that those who say, “I can have just a few and it does not harm anyone.” My question would be, “Why do you need to have a few in the first place?” I am not here to judge just to testify that in the last almost 9 years I have had times where I have lost control but never given my control over to a substance. And even with age, I can look each person in the face and know what I have done or not done. And that is a good feeling.

I never remembered that woman’s name or even where we had the so-called conversation. I wish I could say it was the only time I had this kind of experience, but it was not. I like living where the only control I release is to the Holy Spirit, all the while seeking His fruit. I now know self-control is mine through Him!

Blessings John,
3/4/19

“Oww!” I said, followed by a stream of swear words. I threw the ratchet on the ground and brought my now bleeding knuckles to my mouth. Crawling out from under the old car, I sat up and shook my head in total surrender.

The last month had been one defeat after another. We had moved from Salt Lake City to St George, Utah. Before we left the city, my truck had been impounded and because of illegal licensing I could not reclaim it, my wife’s car had died and we had spent most of our savings to buy a 20’ ancient motorhome in which we planned to live, only to find it needed extensive work. Over two week I had done enough repairs to it to make the over 300-mile trip and had also purchase one of the ugliest cars I had ever seen for hundred bucks. In this mean looking caravan we had headed south.

Arriving in St George, we soon found out that several of the RV parks didn’t want our vehicles to grace their beautiful parks. Most places were filled with ‘snowbirds’ rich, retired northerners that spent their winters in the desert warmth that St. George provided. Their rigs were expensive and made our old, tired motorhome look like an ‘Okie’ rig straight out of ‘Grapes of Wrath’. In desperation we had settled into the only park that took in anyone who had enough cash to pay two months in advance and would sign a one-year commitment. Paying for the cheapest space we could, our rig now was set up in #4 alongside other beat up and desperate folks, whose living accommodations looked a lot like ours.

Trying to adjust to our new lifestyle, we found so many things that we needed to accept. Seeing our motorhome did not have a shower, we would need to use the park’s facilities. The problem was that they were old and never cleaned. Fill with mold and mildew and with no heat, winter showers were an experience. Other things were more frightening like hearing gun fire at night and drunken arguments that seemed to be right at the door of our rig, left me feeling our very safety was at risk. Then came insult to injury.

The ugly car, that is what I called it the whole time of ownership, needed to be safety inspected. In Utah before a car is licensed it needs to be inspected. When I took ugly car in, I was told for it to pass the front brake calipers would need to be replaced. Hence, John on the ground, busting his knuckles and knowing life had finally defeated him.

Sitting on the ground, leaned back against the front bumper, I heard a voice say, “Hey son, that car seems to be kicking your behind (not the word used at the time).” I lowered my head and thought, “Just what I needed an ‘armchair mechanic’ to give me advice.” When I looked up, the man was not standing but had gone over to the other side of the vehicle and was looking at the brake assembly. Peering around the car, he said, “I have been pulling these off cars for years.” And without a second thought was grabbing tools and within minutes did what I could not do in hours, the old caliper was out. He winked at me and said, “Just a matter of knowing what you are doing!” He continued to work and soon the job was done. When I offered to pay him, he just shrugged and said. “My young friend, I have seen you and your wife struggle since you moved in. I been living here a long time. I have seen a lot of folks down on their luck. I just wanted you to know you are not alone.” With that he held out his hand, “My name is Joseph P. Ritcher, and I live over in #19 you and your wife come say hi some time that is all the thanks I need.”

I have written many times about the kindness of strangers and how it can change a person’s life. There were several times in my life when I was down. Some of those times people chose to kick me. Some of them were so called Christians. We judge so much by appearances. At the time I am writing about today, it had taken 3 years of living to get from total bankruptcy, living in a tent in Salt Lake City to buying that motorhome. It was all we could afford, and it was old and when we drove it anywhere, we were judged by its appearance. On top of that the ‘ugly car’ I write about was a rusty, mustard yellow Datsun hatchback, with peeling faux wood on the sides. It was ugly for sure, but it was the most dependable car I owned in those lean years. Still we were always judged by its appearance. Because we lived in this old rig and drove that ugly car, we must be undesirable. Have you ever been in this place?

I was that day when Joe P., as I would come to call him, came to the rescue. I felt I was a failure and had brought my wife to a place where our very lives may be in danger. I was ready to give up. But that one good deed, by one good man, changed it all.

God’s Word says this, “If there is a poor man with you, one of your brothers, in any of your towns in your land which the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart, nor close your hand from your poor brother;” (Deuteronomy 15:7) There may be an opportunity today for you to reach out a hand to someone in need. Please, do not judge that person by appearance. Remember how God judges each of us, as he reminded the prophet Samuel “…The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) May we all look at each other through God’s eyes today.

Blessings and Happy Sabbath,
John
3/1/19