Don't Open the Spine-Chilling-Terrifying Door

Don't Open the Spine-Chilling-Terrifying Door

     Vicki was a widowed bookkeeper.  I knew her from church and had always felt she was one of the sweetest and most-all-together women I'd ever known.  She had met a widower who said he had an in-home business and hired her to do his taxes.  After several meetings going over his taxes he invited her for dinner.

     She described Philip as tall, handsome and very quiet.  In fact she said, "I think he must be an introvert.  A really deep introvert."  After about six months of dating he proposed to her.  She accepted and the church women tried to give her a shower.  But Vicki said they had decided to not have a special service but were going to fly to Reno and get married that weekend.

     That was about three weeks ago.  And already she had made an appointment for counseling.  She was as on edge as any human I've ever known.  She could barely sit still to explain what was going on.  I waited patiently and silently.  I watched her eyes and nervous twitches of her limbs and wondered if she needed to see a Neurologist instead of a Counselor.  But with her rapid speech, darting glances and near hysteria, I chose not to interrupt her and listened intently instead.

     I always pray before a counseling session that the Lord would help me understand the true needs of the person.  Then during the session sometimes when I'm unsure of how to frame the right words to assist someone to make the best decisions for the difficulties they're facing I pray silently asking the Lord to supply the solution.  I learned this early on in my years of counseling hurting hearts.  God always comes through.  But sometimes I get impatient and try it on my own.  Not smart.  Grade me a D- for that.

"God, the one and only -- I’ll wait as long as he says.  Everything I need comes from him, so why not?" (Psalms 62:1, The Message)

     "Wait" in this verse is an unusual original word.  It doesn't mean take a nap or spend several days and then God will give the answer.  It means, "pause for His message."  So I learned to pause with anticipation that the answer would often come before the counseling session was over.

     I could tell Vicki was desperate and my heart really desired to help her.

     She began.  "We never visited his house when we were dating as he was remodeling it.  But when we returned from Reno he said we're moving into the house now.  I was excited and looked forward to it.

     As we started to get out of the car he said, "Vicki...there is something you can not do."

     "What?"

     "You can not go into the garage for any reason.  Promise me you won't."

     She figured he must have his office out there.  Or, maybe he was making her a Christmas present or something.  But she kept her word and never went into the garage. 

     Vicki continued, "He would spend most afternoons in the garage.  In the evenings we would watch TV after dinner and sleep in a Queen bed in a pretty plain looking bedroom.  I saw no indications of a woman's touch anywhere and found the house to be drab and depressing."

     After about a month he told her at dinner, "I have a surprise for you.  I will show it to you in the garage at bedtime." 

     Vicki began shaking uncontrollable as she tried to continue.  But her voice froze as her eyes projected intense fear.  "I...I...I...just didn't..."  Her lips locked tightly.  She couldn't speak.

     "Vicki, I'm here to help you.  I took her hand and whispered, "Try to tell me what was in the garage."

     Wiping her eyes, sighing deeply, she said, "It was dark and I didn't see them until he shined a small flashlight on the first one."

     "The first ... what?"

     "It was a large... wooden rectangular... object." 

     I could see her straining just to speak each word.

     "It was a wooden box I thought.  But then he reached up and tapped the top of the box and a lid slowly opened.  And a soft light came on." 

     Vicki wept and excused herself to go powder her nose.

     Curiosity really held my attention.  I spent the time pleading with the Lord for understanding and that she would be able to recover enough to continue.

     She returned. 

     "Please tell me more, Vicki."

     "He pulled a small stepladder over and told me to step up and look inside."

     "Oh, No, I don't want to do that," I told him.

     He said, "You're my wife and I made this for you."

     Then he lifted me onto the stepladder and before I knew it I was looking down inside that box.

     It wasn't an empty box.  It had a mattress, pillow and blankets and a small light.

     Vicki uttered loudly.  "It was a casket.  And there was another one beside it."

     I screamed at him, "What on earth are you doing?"

     Vicki, "I built these for us so we can sleep in them each night.  Tonight will be our first night."

     I couldn't believe it.  What on earth was going on?  I had never heard of such a thing.  Never.

     "He told me to go get ready for bed and that he would help me get in.  I went back into the house, grabbed my things, put on my coat and drove to a relative's house.  I will never go back." 

     She wanted to move a zillion miles away.  She was terrified.  She was temporarily staying at a relative's house.   But she knew she had a problem... they had gotten married.  How would the Lord accept her for leaving her husband?

     Then... she pondered... and asked if I would go talk to him.  I felt inadequate for the task, but she persisted and I sensed the Lord was telling me to do it. 

     I sure couldn't see what good it would do.  But, Vicki was between a rock and a hard place.  I must try.

     When I phoned he immediately asked if his wife would be coming with me.  I said, "Not today, but let's visit first."  I visited for a few moments with him in the modest-sized living room.  With an indescribable smile he asked me if I'd like to see the whole house.  So he gave me the grand tour.  Yes, the garage also.

     In the daylight I quickly saw the boxes.  Indeed they were caskets.  I knew that Vicki's nightmare was indeed a real-life, bizarre horror event.  I told him I was going to leave and would see myself out.

     As I skipped down the front porch steps a man quickly approached and shoved papers in my face.  "Ha, you can't avoid me forever.  You've been served, Philip."  I glanced at the paper and realized it was a Court Summons for Philip.  In fact there were two summons.  I told the Server, "You've got the wrong man.  I'm not Philip... he's in the garage."  I showed him my driver's license and business card.

     He swore at his difficulty serving Philip.  He said, "He refuses to accept service.  I can see he's home but he won't answer the door."

     I figured the two Summons were for unpaid debts until the Process Server muttered, "Can you believe this creep?  He is a bigamist.  His last two wives have been trying to get their valuables back and he won't accept the divorce papers."

     Mercifully it turned out that he was not a widower as he had claimed but was still married to two other women... whom he had recently tricked and who had fled for their lives and he had never divorced them and refused to accept service of their attorney's papers. 

     I knew then why I had been sent to meet Philip.  He had "married" Vicki fraudulently.  He was still married to two other women whom I suspect had fled for their lives as well.

     You may think this is a vampire fiction tale.  It is not.  It is the true story of one woman's plight when she re-married.  An attorney took care of Vicki's entanglement.  Today she is, once again, the sweetest, most all-together woman I've ever known.

     Displayed above my head in my counseling office is a mounted copy of this painting by the late Harry Anderson which my wife purchased more than 20 years ago.  

     Not only did folks I counseled see it, but it was a continual reminder to me of who the ineffable Great Counselor is. 

Who Am I

Casting Crowns

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King Of The Sandbar

King Of The Sandbar

     Some years back I managed a church camp in south-eastern Missouri.  It was in August and the heat and humidity drove us to daily dips in the cool stream.  When classes ended mid day everyone got their swim suits on.

     The stream was shallow out to a sandbar about 15 feet from shore. Past the sandbar the stream was deep and swift.  The sandbar was just below the surface.  When I stood on it the water was up to my knees.  Somebody said, "Let's play king of the sandbar."  So we did.  I got on the sandbar and groups of the kids would try to knock me over into the deeper part... making a big splash.

     If they knocked me over the king had to start all over again.

     We'd been skirmishing for about 45 minutes when someone screamed, "Snake!  There's a snake in the water!"  And they weren't kidding.  All the kids dashed madly to shore... terrified of the snake.  But I wasn't so fortunate.

     I had just regained my position as king of the sandbar and was about 15 feet from safety.  I looked to my left and saw the gross creature curling it's scales in the water with just its head above the surface.

     That's when I saw it and realized the danger I was in.

     Its head was triangular, its mouth was open and it looked like a giant piece of cotton in its mouth.  It was a water moccasin and it was heading downstream between the shore and me on the sandbar.  Having grown up in the Pacific Northwest I had never seen a venomous snake.  And this one was closing the distance between us too quickly.

     I prayed that it wouldn't come directly at me and strike me.  I felt the Lord telling me to stand absolutely still and trust he'd send the scaly killer past me and on down the stream.   And my prayer was heard.  To this day I can still see that white cottonmouth and wondered how I had been able to not shake like the scared man I was.

     I later learned that the Cottonmouth could sense heat sources and I know the Lord's Angel kept it from sensing me.  Don't try to convince me that our guardian angels don't protect us from water snakes and the great serpent Satan.

     The Bible records a great many references to snakes.  In fact crafty Satan tricked Eve into disobeying God and introduced sin into the world.  For doing so Genesis says: 

     "So the LORD God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this, "Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals!  You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.  And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel." (Genesis 3:14-15, NIV)

     Crawling on his belly from this moment on was physical punishment that all snakes have because of the great serpent Satan.  But far greater is the spiritual warfare Satan was forced to battle.  In fact he thought he had destroyed the Holy Son of God when he crucified him - the above prophesy predicted, "you will strike his heel.  "But when the Lord Jesus came out of the grave the above prophecy says to Satan, "He will crush your head."  

     Can you picture all of Heaven crying when Jesus was crucified?  It makes me cry just to ponder His death.  But Thanks be to God ~ the Lord's children have an eternal home thanks to Jesus crushing Satan under His heel.  

Ten Thousand Angels Cried
Heritage Singers

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White or Black Stone

White or Black Stone

     “Heads I Win, Tails You Lose.”  Many of us have heard this silly little cheater’s slogan since early grade school playground days.  You recall it don’t you? It simply meant Only I can win.  You can only lose.  Is this only a childhood slogan, or are we sometimes faced with it as adults?

     The I.R.S., in spite of some noticeable improvements, targets you for an audit.  You take the books all neatly prepared by your former employee only to learn that serious errors had been made.  It dawns upon you, “I thought she knew her stuff.  I wonder what this will set me back?”

     When the auditor shows you their decision you slip back into your chair, shaking, weak and sick to your stomach.  You hear your parched lips saying, “But I paid her good money to keep these records.  I did the best I could.” But, your plea is met by that frozen look of “I’ve heard it all before.” And you realize that even the IRS sometimes utters, “Heads I Win, Tails You Lose.”

     You’re deeply in love with your spouse and discover that an affair has ripped your heart to shreds and blackened your future.  Your food is tasteless.  Beverages are lukewarm.  Your stomach aches and refuses sustenance.  Your mind races or crawls.

     You want someone to talk with, to unload your heavy heart but the words won’t become audible as your tongue thickens in your mouth.  “O’ God", you cry out, "is there no way out of this pain? Will I ever feel OK again?"

     Your spouse has effectively said, “Heads I Win, Tails You Lose.”

     Let me introduce a couple who personifies heads I win, tails you lose.

     Sophia called to make the appointment.  She said she and Wallace were close to splitting up.  But they wanted to try counseling first.

     "Would it be possible for me to come in alone and get some help? I'm sure you'll agree that our marriage is beyond hope."

     "I don't recommend that, Sophia.  When only one spouse comes for counseling then it tends to alienate their partner because they feel the Counselor knows all their dirt and is prejudiced against them."

     "Oh, I never thought of that," she quickly responded.   She continued, "But I think I must tell you the ugly facts.  There's so much you'll need to know."

     "Sophia, I respect your concern but I still insist that I see you both.  I recommend that you tell your husband that the Counselor wants both of you to come for just one session.  Push him a bit if you have to.  This may save your marriage."

     Meeting Wallace and Sophia I guessed they were in their mid-thirties.  Sophia began, "We were High School sweethearts and have been married for 14 years and have two children."

     During that first session I felt like Sophia was steering me to recognize her side of everything they were fighting about.  She seemed to want me to be a judge and slam my gavel and say, "Wallace...you are guilty of causing all of your marital discord!!"

     Wallace spoke only a handful of comments while Sophia devoured the time.

     In addition she displayed a rare clue to where her heart really was.  When I asked a question she played the eye game.  In answering a question truthfully she met my eyes straight on.  But if her answer sounded false her eyes looked just above my head.  Subconsciously that often indicates an intent to deceive.

     I asked each of them if they wanted to keep their marriage together.  Wallace softly said "Yes" looking me right in the eyes.  Sophia said, "Of course...why else would we have come for counseling."

     Oh, and her eyes looked above my head.

     Then I asked, "Do you sleep together?"

     They nodded affirmatively.

     "Do you know the meaning of vulnerability?" But I didn't wait for an answer.  Continuing I said, "Vulnerability is having an argument where you feel you might have gotten hurt or been hurtful and each of you crawling into a king-sized bed...but scooting to the far edges.  You can't sleep.  You lie there without moving an inch, wondering if your partner went to sleep.  Your heart is pounding and it cries out...turn over and apologize and cuddle with your spouse.  But you're unsure what will happen if you attempt it.

     You're wanting desperately to make all OK.  So, after quite a while you quietly turn over and silently reach over and lightly touch your souse's back.  If your spouse turns towards you, healing will begin.  If they scoot farther away or leave the bed your vulnerability was crushed.

     "If you both have tender hearts that reward vulnerability then the Lord will quickly restore your struggling relationship.  If instead that type of sweet love and vulnerability is missing, I'll be giving you homework and, either way we'll need to meet weekly until things improve."

     We closed with prayer and they started to leave.  Sophia trailed a bit behind her hubby and slipped me some papers when he was out the door.  The papers were 6 typed pages with the following heading: "These are the rotten things Wallace did this week."

     Slowly Sophia and Wallace's relationship improved.  Their faith and trust in the Lord stopped the bickering and note taking.  We worked through the love teaching in 1st Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

     "Practicing this kind of heavenly, God-sent love will make the most dreary days cheerful.  The most dry deserts an oasis and sprout life from death and decay."

     In our final session I told them I want to tell you a quote from a famous actor and a story of a king who practiced Heads I Win Tails You Lose.

     Clint Eastwood's alleged quote about marriage: "They say marriages are made in Heaven.  But so is thunder and lightning."

     They both chuckled.

     A despotic king had been lusting after wives of his subjects.  He had devised a scheme to where he would win the woman by challenging the husband to a contest.  It wasn't just any contest...it was a rigged one.

     One afternoon he challenged the man to the contest.  "If I win, I get your wife.  If you win you keep your wife." The man loved his wife and hated the King for forcing him to win a contest to keep his own wife.

     Nobody had ever won against the king before.

     The king led the man and wife up to the top of a hill.  The king bent and picked up two stones and dropped them into a dark bag.  "All right," the king challenged, "Draw out the white stone and she remains with you.  Draw out the black stone and she’s mine."

     As the king’s words were sinking in, the man’s eyes met the eyes of the king’s advisor.

     The advisor’s eyes warned of deception by the king and his lips were silently mouthing words

     Remembering the King never had lost a contest sweat engulfed the unsure husband.

     As he took the dark bag from the king his love for his wife flooded his mind.  How can I be sure which rock is white? Reaching into the bag the man gripped the two stones, felt their edges and tried to decide which one to pull out.

     All hope seemed lost and then he saw the king's advisor again.   It seemed he was saying.

     Drop the stone.  The advisor's head even slightly nodded downward.

     The man desperately and quickly pulled his hand out and fumbled the rock and it fell from his hand onto the piles of rocks below.  There was no way to ever know which color it was.

     But the king took charge.  He said, It was black.  Your wife is mine.”

     But, then the king’s advisor spoke, “Pardon me your majesty.  Since he dropped the stone the only way we can know for sure which color it was is to look at the other stone…the one still in the bag.”  He continued, “If the stone in the bag is white, then indeed he did draw out the black one and his wife is yours.  However, if the stone in the bag is black, then he must have drawn out the white stone and his wife remains his own.   What color is the stone in the bag?”

     Since the king had lied and placed two black stones and no white stones in the bag he had set up a guaranteed win.  There was no white stone at all.  So, in spite of the king's scheme the man won and kept his wife thanks to the clever wisdom from the advisor, each of us needs to keep our eyes and ears open.  When you face those absolutely, positively, unquestionably, without any doubt un-winnable difficulties remember that old motto “Heads I Win, Tails You Lose” was a lie, is a lie and always will be a lie.  Replace it with, “Really difficult things take a while.  Absolutely impossible just take a little longer.”

     To my knowledge Sophia and Wallace's marriage is still intact.

God Will Make A Way

Don Moen

  
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My Soul Storm

My Soul Storm

     We live in a world of paradoxes.  Billionaires and street people.  Massive International Corporations and a dearth of Mom and Pop stores.  Farm ownership is disappearing faster than the morning dew.  Desperate people are all around us.  National catastrophes seemingly are more common than ever before.

     As we pulled out of the driveway from Safeway, my wife and I saw a young man holding a sign with his wife and baby sitting at his feet.  We swung back around and handed them $20.00.

     Over a lifetime of events, challenges, gains and losses, modest income and poverty periods I kept at the most important work on earth: trying to lead people to the Lord.  I never actually took the IRS "Oath of Poverty," I just lived it.

     I ministered to several congregations nearly all of which were small and were only able to pay me a small amount.  I also counseled a large number of folks with hurting hearts and broken dreams.  Typically these counseling sessions were for a minuscule amount or for no charge.  It was always my intent to nudge them to come to Jesus or return to Him while never focused on collecting money from them.

     In one of those periods I felt adrift in a storm ~ unsure if my anchor would hold.  I needed to supplement my income.  We had bills to be paid and I took a temp job selling business to business.

     Early on day one I left the house  and drove the 16 miles.  As I pulled into the town I saw a red light flashing on my dash.  It wasn't just any red light it was the fuel gauge.  I knew my wallet was empty and the gas tank would be soon.

     I only had one option.  I had to park my car and walk to each of the businesses.  But I had something that was far more urgent than walking.

     I sat in the car and buried my face in my hands and tried to pray.  I felt so alone.  So hopeless.  So unsure of where to go and what to do.  My mouth felt dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.  Words wouldn't come to my lips.  My hands were shaking and then became wet.  I was crying and my soul was humiliated.  Never had I felt like this.  I was not worthy to even have a family.  I was such a failure.  My mind felt like scrambled eggs.  And then it happened.

     From deep within my soul two words crawled out:  "Abba.........Father..." Followed by "Dear Abba Father I'm such a failure."  I wept harder.

     My soul continued, "Holy Lord, You know I've spent so many hours the last few days ministering to people who needed help... but they couldn't pay anything.  Now I'm so weak, weary and desperate, I'm afraid to even try to do this new job - selling to businesses."

     "Oh, Lord," tears gushing, "Please help me.  Please..."

     Realizing I was almost late for the appointment I dried my eyes and parked my car.

     As I opened the business' front door I stepped softly inside unsure what response my effort would bring.  And a response was exactly what awaited.

     "Mr. Smith, I'm so glad you made this appointment.  I've been needing this for a long time.  Please can you do two things for me?" Paula asked.

     "Please tell me how much to write the check for and then can you take the time to show Martha at her shop on the next corner.  She can't wait to see you either."

     This isn't a lengthy story but it is true.  I remember it like it was yesterday... though it was a number of years ago.  Before that day I had always been optimistic and even proud of my work ethic.  You know I could fix anything and hated to be dependent on anyone for anything.  And though a diligent Christian, my philosophy had always been: The Lord helps those who help themselves.

     Ever since Abba Father sent me to Paula the loving Holy Spirit has been remolding me into dependency on Him and placing and keeping Him number one in my life.

     Maybe it had happened before this story, I can't recall.  But from this moment on I was a broken man.

     The Lord taught me that He alone was sufficient for me to lean upon.  I began to realize my supposed macho attitude was arrogance and pride.  God didn't want me prideful.  He wanted me broken.  Humble.  Dependent on Him.

     I've been reading the Psalms in the new Passion Translation and recently these verses expressed what my soul has discovered:

"I am standing in absolute stillness, silent before the one I love,

waiting as long as it takes for him to rescue me.

Only God is my Savior, and he will not fail me.

For he alone is my safe place.

His wrap-around presence always protects me

as my champion defender.

There’s no risk of failure with God!

So why would I let worry paralyze me,

even when troubles multiply around me?

God’s glory is all around me!

His wrap-around presence is all I need,

for the Lord is my Savior, my hero, and my life-giving strength.

Join me, everyone! Trust only in God every moment!

Tell him all your troubles and pour out your heart-longings to him.

Believe me when I tell you—he will help you!"  

(Psalms 62:5-8, TPT)

Sometimes It Takes A Storm

Jessica King

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Where's The Line To See Jesus?

Where's the Line to See Jesus?
 
     On one side of the spectrum Christianity is about adults who are called to yield to their eternal savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.  On the other side of the spectrum are children whom Jesus wanted brought to Him.

     Jesus, in no uncertain words, chewed out disciples who tried to block children's access to Him, told adults to become like children or not be able to enter His kingdom and advised that those children had heavenly angels who appeared before the Father in their behalf.

"People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them.  When Jesus saw this, he was indignant.  He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them." (Mark 10:13-16, NIV)

"Taking a child, He set him before them, and taking him in His arms, He said to them, "Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me." (Mark 9:36-37, NIV)

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones.  For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."  (Matthew 18:10, NIV)

     Short-sighted adults deride these claims, "If God really cared about kids why doesn't He prevent all the horrible atrocities they suffer worldwide?" These mockers blame God for anything and everything heinous on this globe.

     Have they never read that the first man and woman brought sin into the world by succumbing to the treacherous lies of the evil one, Satan.  Ever since that moment the Devil has urged and nudged mankind to do unspeakable acts including diabolically mistreating children.  This is sinful man's thinking and conduct ~ not the Heavenly Father's desire.

"In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish." (Matthew 18:14, NIV)

     I've always loved children.  My wife and I became Foster Parents assuming we'd be able to make a difference in the lives of suffering children.  But after we provided care for darling kids suddenly they'd be removed.  I don't remember the exact number whom we housed but I do recall how ripped apart our hearts were when they were suddenly transferred and we never saw them again.

     One afternoon I read about a unique idea by Judge Soukup in King County Washington.  He conceived the idea of using trained community volunteers to speak for the best interests of abused and neglected children in court.  This creative idea grew out of the Judge's observation from many years as a Family Court Jurist that parents, offenders and relatives usually had an attorney to represent them ~ but the children had no one.

     I felt led by the Holy Spirit to become such a volunteer ~ for abused and neglected children.

     It required being totally vetted, after which there were many long days and hours of training.

     After about 6 months I was sworn in by a Judge as a Court Appointed Special Advocate: (CASA) for juveniles brought into Family Court.  But I had to wait until a child was assigned to me.  Wait, I did.  The system seemed so slow.  All that training and then pray that I would indeed be assigned a hurting child to help.  Then my phone rang.

     The CASA Supervisor said 2 young children had been abandoned and were now in custody of the State.  The Supervisor asked if I could advocate for both of the children.  Of course I said, "Absolutely."

     When I read the police report I couldn't believe my eyes.  The report said 911 had received a call saying there were two young children in a cold, damp car parked behind a Tavern.  Worse they had been there for 2 rainy nights.

     The police removed the young children and discovered they were not only cold but were also starving.  Scrounging around for anything to eat ~ all the food they could find was a tube of toothpaste.  They had been abandoned by their prostitute mother.

     They were in a temporary shelter home when I first met them.  Bobby and Brenda were brother and sister and so cute.  He was 7 and she was 5.  I was delighted to help these two sweet kids.

     CASA training had prepared me for typical causes why the Court would have custody of the young children.  They tended to be parents who were drug/alcohol addicts, or guilty of criminal behavior, or single moms with abusive live-in boyfriends, etc.  Often a neighbor witnessing children being mistreated in these broken and abusive homes would report them to the Authorities.

     So the Court set up the CASA program as an experiment.  Each advocate was to represent the children members of these dysfunctional homes.

     But represent is far too pregnant a term for us.  Our only involvement was to visit the children in whatever residence they were in and report to the Court what we saw.  Were they healthy, fed, bathed and safe.  Or were they in harm's way.

     As advocates no physical contact was allowed.  We really were just volunteer reporters.  We were trained to not even give a struggling child a hug.  So when Christmas rolled around Bobby and Brenda  wanted to go see Santa.  But I couldn't take them anywhere.

     Later, Bobby and Brenda were taken from the foster home in which I first met them and were returned to their mother.  She had been begging the Court to return them to her.  She lived alone in a small apartment.  The Court's allowance stipulated she was not to have any other adult residing with her.

     Mom didn't have a phone so I had to schedule a visit by knocking on her door.  She fought the visitation tooth and toe nail.  It took handing her a Court Authorization document and threatening to call a deputy to enforce it before she grudgingly allowed me inside.  I will never forget that day.

     Mom had broken the agreement and had her former boyfriend living with her and the kids.  Brenda was sitting on a stool watching TV.  But where was Bobby? 

     "Oh, he's in the bathroom.  He'll be right out." 

     When the door opened Bobby shuffled slowly toward me.  I smiled at him but he didn't smile at me.  He had obviously been quietly crying his eyes out.  I quickly saw why.

     Bobby had a nasty bruised eye and a badly swollen lip.  I wanted to rush to him and hug him and tell him everything was going to be OK.  But, as a CASA I couldn't make physical contact.  When I left I went directly to the CASA office in the Family Court and reported the obvious abuse.  First though I collapsed in my car as I couldn't drive with my eyes gushing a torrent of tears.

     The Court called a hearing to deal with the abuse report and consider moving the children to a safer home.  I had located out of town relatives who agreed to take the children.  They were a great family and I hoped the Court would send Bobby and Brenda to live with them.

     When the Judge called me to testify I carefully detailed what I observed.  Then there was an explosive outburst.  The Mom and boyfriend stood and screamed snake venom filth and abuse at me.

     What did the Judge do? Nothing.  What did he say?  Nothing.  Looking at his face I could see he was horribly intimidated.  I protested and said my report was the truth.  But then their vindictive rant increased.  The boyfriend said, "We're gonna follow you home and kill you and your whole family."

     Am I making this up?  No.  It is 100% true.

     What did the Court decide?  I remember the Judge scooting down in his chair a bit and saying, the Mom could retain custody of her two children.

     Having won the battle to keep her kids Mom and boyfriend quickly exited cursing me as they left.

     Is this narrative designed to deride the CASA program.  Absolutely not.  The problem was not the program.  The problem was that the forcefulness of evil is so horrendous that little can be done to corral it.

     A short-time later I worked with primary children in a special program at church.  It was very fulfilling and the forces of evil didn't vault to the front.  Instead of taking children to see Santa Claus they were introduced to Jesus.

     My wife said this story reminded her of a touching song:

Where's The Line To See Jesus?

Becky Kelley

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Life is Often Not What You Expect

Life is Often Not What You Expect

     Ruth was born in Culbertson, Montana in the second month of World War I.  Her father had a small farm and raised horses and cattle.  He also ran the ferry across the Missouri River serving north-eastern Montana and western North Dakota.  Ruth had five siblings: three older brothers and two younger sisters.  She remembers her Dad working long hours and her Mom as being a great cook.

     Dad would often rock his daughters on his lap when he had a few moments before dinner or just after.  Then one day he got real sick with horrid pain in his stomach.  The one doctor in the county took one look at him and said it was appendicitis and placed him on the first train to a hospital in Denver.  It was nearly two weeks before he returned.

     His body was still very tender and his bandage had to be replaced frequently.  Nile, the oldest son fed and watered the stock while his Dad, Adee, was on the mend.  3-year old Ruth was being rocked one afternoon when Nile came in and asked his Dad what he should do as one of the horses was acting up.  As Adee went to calm the horse he opened the gate to approach from the back.  It happened faster than the eye could see.  Suddenly the vicious beast kicked backwards with both rear hoofs ripping open Adee’s stomach.

     The neighbors got him on a stretcher for the next train to return him to the hospital in Colorado.

     Ruth didn’t know when he’d come back home and thinks it must have been a month or more before she overheard a neighbor tell her mother, “I’m sorry Adee didn’t make it.”

     Talk about a tragic and heartbreaking start to a life.  3-year old Ruth would have more than her share of heartaches along life’s way.

     After her father was killed her mother couldn’t keep up the farm nor be the nurturing Mother anymore.  Her brother in far away Oregon said she and the kids could come and stay with his family.  It was more than a thousand-mile trek and Ruth remembers how horribly long the trip was and getting motion sickness on the way.

     Finally they arrived at her Uncle’s place and, though really crowded, it was warm and felt secure.  Her Mom kept job hunting and the kids felt lonely but found ways to play between their many chores.  One afternoon her Mother kept looking out the window like she was expecting someone.

     Ruth and Lillian, just two years apart, were really close knit and were playing when there was a knock on the door.  A man and woman came in and had a cup of coffee with Ruth’s Mother.  The girls kept playing but Ruth felt she was being stared at.

     The couple stood up and Ruth’s Mom called her.  “Ruth, come here”, as she took Ruth’s hand and marched her to the couple. “Ruth, this is your new Mom and Dad.”  Though Ruth clung to her Mom she was shoved away to the man and woman.  Ruth remembers that horrible time as one of the worst in her whole life.  Not only was she leaving her own Mother but also Lillian and her other siblings.  It would be many, many years before she saw any of them again.

     After a very difficult adjustment and harsh, unreasonableness, Ruth finally became an adult.  She couldn’t move out quickly enough.  She found work on a large farm as the cook.  She was naturally gifted at cooking and remained that way all her life.

     She met Roy at the farm and later they married and moved to their own flat.  Shortly thereafter they had a sweet little blond daughter, Mary.  Roy struggled earning a living partly because he was an alcoholic.

     One morning Ruth hugged Roy goodbye when he went to work to pick up his paycheck.  But that was the last time Ruth would see him alive as he had a heart attack and passed away late that afternoon.

     Ruth was very, very hard working and her daughter, Mary, praises her to this day.  Ruth was lonely and struggled to survive with her young daughter through the great depression.  Community dances were common during that era and Ruth occasionally went, secretly hoping to meet Mr. Right.

     A handsome, strong young man asked her for a dance.  Ruth enjoyed dancing with him and felt secure in his rock-hard embrace.  They dated several times and the attraction seemed to be growing.  That is until what happened at the restaurant.

     Ed got upset at a man whom he felt made a pass at Ruth.  Ed had drank enough to be nearly drunk.  He grabbed the man and beat him so severely Ruth thought he would kill him.

     Ruth wisely decided to not stay in relationship with a man of such a violent temper when drinking.  So she refused to date him anymore.

     About two weeks had passed when unexpectedly Ed showed up at Ruth’s flat.  Little Mary recalls the exact shirt he was wearing and would tremble ever after when anyone wore that kind of shirt around her.

     Ed came in and apologized to Ruth about his horrid-temper outburst.  He swore he’d never do it again.  He handed her a little ring and said “We’re going to get married.”

     Ruth said, “No we’re not and I want you to leave now.”

     Suddenly Ed thundered as he marched her to the kitchen, “Oh Yes we are.”  Holding Ruth by the hair he pulled a butcher knife off the counter and held it to her throat.  “I’ll slice your throat if you don’t say ~ Yes ~ right now.”

     Later it was learned that Ed was a felon on parole from a serious, violent crime, when he met Ruth at the Dance hall.  Over the years Ed and Ruth stayed married because she feared him so much.  Along the way they had three children.  Charlene, Douglas, and me. 

                                         Ruth Vail

A Tribute to Ruth

 

     For the rest of this story go back and read the story I wrote previously: “Murder Attempt Led Me To The Lord.”
 
     Postscript: Ruth became a Christian in midlife and lived to be 86.  She was the best Mom and grandmother on the planet.  My wife loved her more than her own Mother and wrote the following epitaph for her memorial service: “Don’t cry for me because where I go Angels sing.”

When You Come Home

By Billy Gilman

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A Most Nauseating Dinner

A Most Nauseating Dinner

     Mom and Dad asked if I could come to their home and advise them what to do with their daughter.

     Desiree was turning 18 in two months.  They described her as uncontrollable,  argumentative and defiant.  In fact, Desiree had dropped out of high school and run away from home.  But they didn't want that to become public or church gossip.

     I began searching for someone who might know of her whereabouts.  My oldest Son had heard through the pipeline that she was staying with a family from another church several hundred miles away.

     I was able to leave a message that I'd drive to her current town just to talk if she'd agree to meet with me.  We met at a fish and chips restaurant and her warm hug gave me hope we could make some sense out of the separation from her parents.

     "Desiree, I've known your mom and dad since before they were married.  I've attended the same church with them but don't know them really all that well.  They told me how concerned they are about you and miss you very much.

     "Excuse me," she said as she hurried to the Rest Room.  When she returned she'd obviously been crying and her composure was unsettled.  She continued, "I didn't know you'd be getting so personal. I'm not comfortable with that.  Maybe I should just g..."

     Seeing her emotional state I wished I hadn't been so direct.  "Desiree, I've known you since you were born and have always loved you and my family does also.  You know that... so please forgive me for hurting you... but I hope you won't leave.  I've driven for hours to get here because I truly care about you."

     She shifted her body in the chair, took another drink and dipped a french fry in catsup.  "I was glad when you said you're coming just to see me.  It's a long story but I just can't take it anymore.  If I hadn't left I don't know what would have happened but it wouldn't have been good."

     Trying to read between the lines I wondered what deep, dark skeleton was in their closet.  I grew quiet as I pondered why she said something bad would have happened had she not left.  I was not prepared for what she was about to divulge.

     "I think everyone's blind to what goes on in my home behind closed doors," tearfully she whispered.

     "Can you share just a bit with me?"  Two couples were chattering at a nearby table so I leaned closer as I couldn't hear her very well.

     Her eyes welled up with tears.  "What does your family eat on Sundays after church?" she asked.

     Where o' where was Desiree going with this?  I had no idea.

    "Sweetie that varies.  You know I love pizza.  And we all eat Kentucky Fried Chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy.  My wife's meatloaf is the best on the planet.  Why do you ask?"

     "Her face contorted into a twisted sarcastic hardness, her voice accelerated and she asked, "What do you think our family eats every single Sunday?  Do you have any idea?"

     Not waiting for my response she suddenly snapped, "We have boiled elder and fried preacher.  I cannot recall any Sunday when my Mom and Dad didn't berate and gossip about anyone and most everyone. I've never heard them say, 'Boy that was a good sermon or anything nice.  I think they're hypocrites!  I had to get out of there before I exploded."

     I knew I was in over my head and asked the Lord to give me wisdom to know what to say and the kindness to help her through this.  I clearly hadn't suspected this was what had caused her to leave home.

     Suffice it to say this didn't get resolved that night.  It took several more visits and two very uncomfortable meetings I had with her parents.  When enough time elapsed and she visited her family I was told it felt very awkward at first but a lot of apologies and forgiveness was on the menu that day.

Epilogue

Hypocrisy

     The Scriptures are replete with teachings about setting good examples and being continually on guard against unchristian behavior.  I am cautious to call anyone a hypocrite though sometimes it is necessary to confront a person whose action is hypocritical.  Certainly Peter was not a "hypocrite" but he did act hypocritically a few times.  In Antioch the apostle Paul had to confront Peter for bad hypocritical conduct that was leading several Christians away from the truth.

     I suspect the most familiar Bible verse to many unbelievers is:  “Judge not, or you too will be judged." (Matt. 7:1, NIV).

     Jesus went on to warn that judgemental people may very well be hypocrites.  "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.  Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?  You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye."  (Matt. 7:2-5, NIV)

     To list the number of hypocrites discussed in the Bible takes a computer.  To list the number of hypocrites in churches today is not my assignment.  That will be the task of the angels when the Lord returns in the clouds according to two of His parables.  In Matthew 13, His disciples questioned the meaning of two of his most sobering teachings:  The parable of the Weeds and the Parable of the Drag Net.

"As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age.  The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil.  They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.  Whoever has ears, let them hear. (Matthew 13:40-43, NIV)

“Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish.  When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore.  Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away.   This is how it will be at the end of the age.  The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."  (Matthew 13:47-50, NIV)

    Honest hearts and sincere consciences will repent of hypocritical behavior.  Sometimes as a counselor, I've had to confront hypocritical behavior and/or thinking.  The old adage is so true: Thoughts lead to behavior.  Behavior leads to habits.  Habits lead to destiny.  Destiny leads to eternity.

Critical Temporary Assignment

     Some parents forget that children are, when you ponder it carefully, a temporary assignment.  Though there are exceptions to the norm the Lord assigns us the awesome and terrifying task of training our children from an early age until they're adults.  Once they can make it on their own we're to bless them and send them forward to build their own homes.

     God even created most animals to be caring parents until their young can make it on their own.  Kangaroo joeys stay in Mom's pouch for about 8 months and when they are out they suckle for a couple of more months.

     Majestic eagles typically have two eaglets.  Eaglets can't fly and are fed by their parents until they're about 3 months old.  Since eagle wings often span 6 feet, four in a nest is quite crowded.

     Mom and Dad don't push their eaglets out of the nest.  Instead when the parents think they're old enough to make it as a fledgling they quit feeding them.  That's usually about 10-12 weeks and then the eaglets anxiously test their wings... they're hungry.

     So if we are going to be successful at parenting we need to be dedicated to our children from day one.  I can't count the number of Moms who are still weeping over their grown child who will have nothing to do with Jesus.  Or the number of Dads who have disowned their own offspring.  How tragic, sad and the opposite of God's plan for our parenting.

     I'll never forget a dear friend who told about his childhood.  He said, "After Mom tucked me in for the night sometimes I'd get up to go to the bathroom.  When I did I'd hear voices.  So one night I quietly peeked into the living room. I'll never forget what I saw.  My Father and Mother were down on their knees praying... for me and my brother."

     Is it any wonder that the two boys became Ministers?

Were I The Perfect Child of God

T. Alonso and M. Mahler

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