Month: August 2020

In my career as an Ironworker I always hated man camp jobs. Projects that were so far out in the boonies that it was necessary for the crew to actually live onsite. Most of the time I avoided them. The reasons were simple. First, it was hard to get a hold of daily needs such as booze and drugs. And secondly, living with a bunch of guys 24/7 was never my idea of a good time. Way too much testosterone!

The only problem with this was, camp jobs payed big money! And as I have stated here before money was what I worked for and pretty much lived for. So, every now and again I would head into the wilds to get the big payday in as short of a time as I could.

I think my least favorite of these jobs was outside of Pembina, North Dakota, not far from the Canadian border. The job itself was not bad being that it was a coal fire power plant. Lots of work, with over 500 guys ‘camping’ onsite. It was kind of a city in itself. The problem was and I did not know it before signing on, there had been a lot of trouble among the men. As happens even on regular sites carpenters and Ironworkers were at each other’s throats. But on this job, it had expanded into all-out war. Upon arrival I immediately heard that ten guys had been given their papers and sent down the road. The place was really like a war zone.

Again, I ended up on one of my favorite structures. I was assigned to a ‘slip form’ crew that was working on one of the 120’ stacks that would tower over the landscape. Most guys did not like the endless work involved seeing that on this type of construction the rebar and concrete work are continuous. The form keeps raising without stop until it reaches the top. For me I liked staying busy. But I did not know that I had entered into the ‘front’ of the battle that had been going on.

It did not take me long to be drawn in. My crew boss stated in no uncertain terms that the carpenters were the enemy and if I was caught fraternizing with them, there would be consequences. Normally I wouldn’t have a problem with this. I had no need to be friendly with anyone, including the carpenters. That is until there was a fly in the ointment. A guy by the name of Jerry Reed.

Yeah, I know what you country and western folks are thinking, but no it was not THAT Jerry Reed. No, this guy was one of my true friends whom I had known since my days living in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. We had fly fished together, he had been one of the guys who had stood up at my wedding. Carpenter or not this was one of the most stand up dudes I had ever known. And there he was before me, big as life, grinning ear to ear. As happy as I was to see him, I knew this was not going to be good. Was I going to honor the battle lines or extend my hand to a best friend?

Every day we have choices to make. There are lines of conformity that our affiliations demand. Republican or Democrat. Conservative or Liberal. Atheist or Christian. The list is really endless. But the truth is the labels we allow to define us are also the chains that tend to bind us.

What is it today that really decides who and what you are? For so much of my life I hid behind the very labels I am talking about. And it was not until I met Jesus Christ that I was able to see that no matter what side of a line I stand on the person on the other side, is not an enemy. He or she is not someone to be ignored or chastised. They are to be seen through the eyes that see all of us the same, Jesus Christ.

I know this sounds very ‘Kumbaya-ish’. We all gather in a circle holding hands and sing. Kind of like a Pepsi commercial. But that is not what I mean at all. The difference should be that a person who claims to follow Jesus should, through him living in us, see not the label or the hated thing, but the heart.

Of course, this is easier said than done. The preacher DL Moody said, “We have to be emptied before we can be filled.”  And the Apostle Peter said this, “Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart, since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God;” (1 Peter 1 22-23) It is a choice only we can make and only God can do. Choosing to submit in obedience to HIS truth we can find true brotherly love that supersedes the world of conflict Satan wants us to live in.

I made the choice back then to shake my friends’ hand. Not out of Christian love. I did not have that in my heart back then. But simply because he was a good guy. I paid the price. Harassed by my boss and sniped at by my co-worker’s day and night. I did not last long on that job. Both Jerry and I ‘drug up’ on the same day. As we sat in the parking lot drinking a beer, he said something I still remember, “I wasn’t sure you would shake my hand that day. But I am glad you did. There will always be another job. But a good friend is hard to find.” I shook my head and agreed. We parted and went our separate ways. The war on that job went on until there were wild cat strikes and some real violence. Kind of a microcosm of our world today. I still struggle with it all but am blessed to have a Savior who does not. Try shaking the hand of a person you have problems with today. Let the love of Jesus override the conflict. You will find your heart is better for it.

Blessings

John

8/31/20

 

The priest whispered through the shadowy screen of the confessional, “Say five Our Father’s and five Hail Mary’s and now make a good Act of Contrition.”

As the window between us slid shut I began to mumble:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen.”

As I knelt at one of the back pews of the cavernous church, the mumbling continued as I recited by rote the penance given. As I did so my head was down, and I did not notice he had approached and was now standing in the aisle next to me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I must have jumped with the contact.

In a low voice he whispered,

“Sorry, my son, I did not mean to startle you. I just felt it was my duty to come talk with you for a moment.

I noticed that his breath was tinged with the sour smell of wine and the black cassock he wore was sprinkled with ashes from a not long-ago smoked cigarette. Where Father Tom had come from, I did not know. But his appearance seemed almost ghostly to me and I felt uncomfortable. Still the old priest was someone I had known from my youth and I could not be rude to him, so I replied with a constrained voice,

“Ah Father Tom, I did not hear you I was just about ready to leave. Is there something I can do for you?

Tom shook his head. As he did his unruly hair seemed to move as waves in a tidal pool. He said in a louder voice then normal spoken in church,

“There is nothing you can do for me, John. It is I who would like to do something for you!

With that he motioned me to move over in the pew enough for him to sit down next to me. With reluctance I did so. Once seated he took a deep breath and looking skyward sighed as only a troubled man does. Slowly without turning he said,

“John, I know you are a troubled young man. Your mother and I have spoken several times recently and she is so worried about you….

At this I attempted to speak, and he turned to me quickly putting his finger to his lips asking me to be silent and his bright blue eyes flashed. Those eyes reminded me of other times I had gotten on Father Tom’s ‘wrong side’ and ended up with a cuff on the noggin. So, I fell silent and waited.

Now looking directly at me he said,

“John, you were once an altar boy. You were a highly decorated Cub Scout. You played basketball for Mr. Doyle and seemed to have such a bright future. Now, I hear you have fallen in with the wrong crowd. Smoking. Coming home with alcohol on your breath. Arrested for breaking windows and brought home in the middle of your sister’s birthday party. I have to ask you, son, have you confessed all these sins? Have you asked God to forgive you?

I wanted to say something smart or just get up and leave but instead anger rose in me and I spoke the only truth I knew,

“Confess? Confess my sins? Yeah, I confessed but what good is it going to do? Confess to God! No, I confessed to Father Ryan, as I have so many times and he gave me the same penance and I have said my five Our Father’s and five Hail Mary’s if that is what God wants then I guess I am good. But I don’t know God or forgiveness or if he even exists!”

With that I fled feeling no comfort feeling more lost than when I had come into the church. I knew in my heart no one could forgive who I had become. Not my parents, not the police, not the priest and certainly not a God who wanted to punish me like everyone else!

This happened long ago but the pain of that moment stayed with me for years. I had been raised in the Catholic Church, attended school in the Catholic Grade School right there on church grounds. I confessed my sins every Friday and attended Church every Sunday. But I did not know God or did I know his true forgiving power.

It led to a life where I sought comfort in every form of addiction. Be it in indulgent sex habits, drinking alcohol uncontrollably or drugs that ruined just about every relationship I had, including with my own son. I ran from the guilt I felt and cursed a God I did not know until by his grace I began to find out who he truly was, is and is to be through absorbing the Word, the Bible.

The God of my youth was mean, he was vindictive but, in his Word, I found a truth I did not know:

“This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” (1 John 4: 9-11)

As I read the entire Book, his Love for me, a sinner, was so apparent so written in every word. I could no longer run from him. I could now truly confess without the need of another man standing between me and the God who loved me and say with the repentant tax collector in the Gospel of Luke:

“God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” (Luke 18:13)

I could know as I could not as a lost youth that God through the love offered to me at the cross has taken my burden and given me true forgiveness. All we need do is seek:

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13)

Today I do not seek to condemn those of you who find comfort and a true connection with God through the traditions of the Catholic Church. I only share my story and know I have been led to true forgiveness in a relationship he has called me to through His Word. My prayer is for you to do the same do not wait for tomorrow:

“Today if ye will hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Hebrews 3:15)

Blessings

John

8/24/20

 

The woods were still except for the sound of wind blowing through the frozen trees. My snowmobile had just quit with no signs of wanting to start again. The trail I had been following had led me deep into the thick tag elders which in summer would have made it all but impassable except single file on foot. But now in the month of January with over three feet of snow on the ground and the underbrush of summer gone the machine had cruised through with no problems. At least until it sputtered to a stop.

I sat on the seat wondering how I was going to get to the meeting place. I was supposed to rendezvous with four friends near the Tilden Mine and from there drop down into National Mine and party at my brother’s house. It would have all worked pretty well if I had stuck to the regular trail at least then I could have hiked out to the road with no problems. Now by taking this short cut I knew I was at least two miles off the beaten path and making my way through the deep snow was not possible. Either this beast of a machine needed to get its act together or I would have to back track a mile then on my trail. Either way without snowshoes I was in trouble.

I pulled on the old Ski-doo’s crank cord a few more times…. nothing. Lifting the hood, I examined the two-stroke engine. Immediately I found the problem. The gas or the gas tank must have had water in it. The carburetor seemed frozen. Not a big surprise with temperatures no higher than 20 degrees all day and without maintaining this old buggy like I should it was certain to spell disaster and this was the day.

Sitting back down I thought I had a solution. Reaching into the storage compartment under the seat, there should be a can of starter fluid. A few squirts of it into the carb should help melt the mixing bowl. Then all I had to do was bleed the line a bit. If I could get it fired up, I could make it back to camp. Great plan but the can was not where it was supposed to be. Slamming the seat down I remember where it was. Sitting in the shed where I had placed it the last time, I had a tough time starting the snowblower. Great! Well at least I had found the bottle of whiskey I had stashed there. I unscrewed the cap and took a pull. I hadn’t checked for tools or starter fluid. I hadn’t done any maintenance on the snowmobile since last winter, but I did remember to bring booze.

Just like me, I thought. No preparation, taking short cuts with a rig that was sure to break down eventually. Now sitting in the winter woods with little prospects of rescue or retreat. I sit drinking. Yep, another fine mess you have gotten us into…

How many times have you taken what you thought was a short cut? You didn’t think it through, it just seemed like the easier choice. For me short cuts were and even though I hate to admit are still too often a way of life. Unprepared and unequipped I blunder forward without giving it a second thought. Then find myself lost! If you can relate then here is a little exercise that I have tried to use and more often RuthAnn helps me use when I am about to jump into the wilderness of thought or deed unprotected. It is simple but also effective. It is called prayer.

Maybe you are saying, “Wait a minute, buster! I am a praying person!”

Hey, I know, I know. So am I. But do I or do you listen and abide by this simple Proverb:

“Commit your work to the LORD, and then your plans will succeed.” (Proverbs 16:3)

Yikes! Short but powerful, right? Before I start my task do I:

“commit my work to the Lord?…”

Do you?

Here is my answer:

No not often enough!

You can put an answer there and if you do every time, I guess you need read no further. But, if you, like me, are not praying before leaping into any task then maybe it is time we slow down and consider a few verses that the Holy Spirit can bring to mind in our time of need. Here is what the Spirit led me to:

“And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Colossians 3:17)

If we are always aware that anything we do is supposed to bring glory to God through not us but Jesus Christ, than it should be a regular thought before we put a pen to the page, meet with that client that is so troublesome, or try to take that short cut that leads to nowhere.

“And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ.” (Colossians 3:23-24)

If we now know we do all to bring glory to God, then we no longer have to fear the judgement of man. We can work heartily or with a full heart and mind. No reward we get here will suffice. But also, there are no short cuts to standing one day in the presence of God.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

Finally, each day, maybe each moment I have to claim this. If I am assured that I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me then there is no reason start any task without claiming HIS strength.

Back in the winter woods, God saved me even in my stupidity and disbelieve. After deciding to try to walk out. I was met by a hunter who was following the track of a snowshoe rabbit then saw my tracks and got curious who would be out in the middle of nowhere. We got my machine going and I made it out with only slightly frozen toes and went on the continue my ‘short cut’ ways without much thinking. It always amazes me looking back now, how many times God has saved me from myself. Today I no longer wish to short cut his work in and through my life. I pray you feel the same. If we recall to do ALL to his glory. If we work with a full heart and mind, not rushing or trying to please others. If we know we can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Slow down! Seek him first and he will do the good works in us all!

Blessings

John

8/17/20

 

 

 

I want to share a story today about the best man I know. Again, I am walking away a bit from the testimonial format that I have been sharing for over three years now, but I have to follow the lead of the Holy Spirit. So here I go!

I met the best man I know the first time, I think, back when I was a teenager. At that time, I was riding a bus. Something I often did in my high school years because my family had moved from Chicago to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan but I had stayed in the seminary school I was attending and traveled by Greyhound every other month on my weekend off.

He sat next to me at the back of the bus. That really bugged me because the back of the bus was where the ‘kids’ hung out. Normally we would play OUR music on a transistor radio or even a portable record player. It was like a club. Smoking cigarettes (yes, back in those days smoking was legal on public transportation) and passing a bottle or a joint around (no those weren’t legal even back in the good old days) It was OUR space and this person had the audacity to invade it and on top of it all sit next to me!

I can’t tell you how ticked I was! But what was a boy to do? My decision was to make his life as miserable as possible. I smoked one cigarette after another and blew the smoke in his direction. I turned around in my seat and asked the hippie girl and her boyfriend to crank up the music. I knew the bus driver and on the late-night run there were few passengers so he would not care. But this old dude was going to get the works. The funny thing is no matter what I did he sat there serenely, reading. And just every now and again he would chuckle, until finally he spoke:

“Son,” he said, “I have been travelin’ on these here buses since before the war and you should have seen the racket them soldiers made! I have learned to read this here book no matter what goes on around me and when I get a chance, I share a bit.” He was quiet for a minute then said, “You is young, smokin’ them death weeds and worse. I did all too starting younger than you! Then I met a man who showed me another way. From that time, I have traveled offerin’ a way to others. Offering to share Jesus, the way the truth and the life….”

I cut him off! I lit up another cigarette and tried to hear nothing else, but his words still bothered me and if I was truthful, I wanted to know more.

We rode together until he got off north of Green Bay, Wisconsin. I felt relieved until I noticed he left his book behind. A Bible. He offered me an escape from the path I was about to travel but I left it sitting on that bus!

I met the best man I know again when I was running a crew and he was killed on my watch. A choker broke and the bundle of rebar landed on him. Filled with guilt I attended his funeral. There seated in the front were his young wife and children. I had drank, at least, a half fifth of booze before I could work the nerve to even attend and as soon as the service was over I headed out as fast as possible and was just about to my truck when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was his wife. I tried to mumble my condolences, but she stopped me with a few soft words,

“John, my husband said you were a good man who just had lost his way. He so wanted to give you this but never got around to it.”

At that she handed me a worn red covered Bible. Without another word left to continue in her grieve. I tossed the Bible under my seat, remembering how many times that man had offered me a different path, but I could not take it!

Surprisingly, the best man I ever knew showed up again in a dark bar outside of Denver, Colorado. Sitting next to me and seeing I was alone and lost, he once again offered me a picture of a different life. He showed up again as a poor woman waiting for a bus in the pouring rain, smiling and praising God even though she seemed to have nothing to praise him for. There he was again in the form of a smiling grandmother who whispered in my ear that she prayed for me every night. And so many more I cannot even mention them all until one day, finally, and after all his attempts, I recognized who he had been all along. You see, the best man I ever knew is Jesus Christ, walking and talking, praying, and pleading through all these people just to save this lost man whom he knew was in desperate need of a Savior. So many lost years, so many offers of his saving power! It was him in the form of every loving person who showed me Jesus. And it is me in this parable, the lost sheep he sought so relentlessly!

“Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

Then Jesus told them this parable: “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’  I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” (Luke 15: 1-7)

If you doubt that Jesus is seeking to save you today, look to how many times he has opened the door to you. If you can honestly say he never has, and you are reading this then the best man I and you will ever know is offering you a chance to meet him today. Don’t wait look to the word of God and see the new life he is offering you. It is when  Jesus is living in you and living in that we become the best man or woman we can be. Like my bus riding friend, I offer you his love!

Blessings

John

8/10/20

 

Over the past two weeks I have written blogs concerning two of the three necessaries of Christian life according to the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:13:

“Now these three remain: faith hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Today I am going to walk away from my usual format of sharing a life event that either shows that I needed God or shows that God loved me even when I did not believe I needed him. I want to speak more in general today about this last of the three, for lack of a better word, virtues: Love. And even though I am not going to share a story, I still am going to try to express the depth of it to me by exploring a bit of my interactions with or missing the mark on its true meaning for years and how that relates to my addictions. A big topic but I will attempt to shrink it.

Growing up as I did in a home where love was not shown in ways that I understood, from the very beginning I mistook any expression of kindness or gentleness as love. Also due to the fact that sexual relationships were never taught or even discussed in my world, the growing feeling I had upon entering puberty got mixed into the idea of what love was all about. This was not helped by the time or generation I grew to adulthood in. Some refer to it as the ‘Love generation’. I refer to it as the ‘Time of Great Confusion” Without a background in moral or sexual code, a whole generation, including myself, came to see the word Love in the context of sex, drugs and rock and roll. For me you can throw alcohol into the mix!

In my case you can also add on the background of Catholic teachings about a God who really had little to do with love. It seemed his job was as the moral policeman who if I sinned, especially sexually, demanded punishment, with the only forgiveness whispered by a priest in a darkened box: penance of mumbled impotent ‘prayers’. In the confusion of my mind that God needed to be removed so I could find love in ways that were neither good nor sacred.

So, I married. Once, twice, three times. Along with innumerable relationships in between. My version of love was so sad. And as my failures stacked up, my addictions grew. And in the wake of them, my decisions became more self-centered and clouded. The little boy who had sought love was now a hard-hearted man who failed even to show the love needed to another little boy, my son.

During my third marriage the depth of all I had become seemed to finally lead me to a place where I thought I would never leave. Separated from my wife, living in a 5^th wheel trailer in a low life trailer park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada, I was loveless, emotionless, and far from even being human. Yet even there, in that desolate land, without my knowledge, the TRUE love of God was still seeking me.

As I see it now God led me to reconcile with my wife. He led me to rebuild our broken relationship. And in 2009 he led me to begin to read a book that is all about Love, so different and so transforming from everything I had ever known. That book is God’s Word, the Bible. It is in this book and only a few verses above the statement about faith, hope and love I started this blog with, that I finally found what real love is all about:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-7)

When I first read this, I saw a definition of love I had never known or understood. I so wanted to believe and make it so in my life, but I was so far from it I could not see it ever happening. It was not until I combined it with these words from the Apostle John that I understood how it works. That it was not about me, it was never about me:

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” (1 John 4: 7-12)

You see it, “God IS LOVE” These words were so transforming to me. Once I saw it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with HIS love so complete that there was nothing, he would hold back to save me, not even Jesus, his son. That love is the real thing, that love is what changed me.

And the unbelievable thing to me is that after the sorrow of my wife’s death, God gave me one more chance to see the depth of that love, in person, he gave me a partner who with now I see that love every day. He blessed me to be able to give love, not selfishly anymore but with Him at the center, RuthAnn and I walk through life able to see LOVE and share it with others, how cool is that.

My prayer for you today is to read the words of God’s love in the true book of love and let it change you. Let the Holy Spirit fill you in a way that you can say with me, “I Love you!” and really mean it!

Blessings

John

8/2/20