AugBlog

“A faith that hasn’t been tested can’t be trusted.” That quote by Adrian Rogers has been floating around in my head for months now, probably since I first became aware that I had ALS. Faith in Christ has been the cornerstone of my life, and it’s had a lot of heavy use lately. And my faith has become even more certain as time has passed.

I want my faith to be full and complete, not lacking in any way. I take that to mean that my faith needs to be tested fully. You see, the process of testing filters out misconceptions and error, and purifies and strengthens what remains. The Bible compares the process to refining gold or silver, using fire to remove the dross and leave pure metal. It sounds painful and severe, but it’s the only way. (See for example 1Peter 1:6-7, 1Corinthians 3:12-15, or Isaiah 48:10)

For many people, the greatest and last test of faith is death itself. Death is final, only undone by the power of the resurrection. Jesus overcame death because he went through it. And my faith is about to be finally and fully tested in that way. Why do I not shrink back? Because I am keeping my “eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame.” (Hebrews 12:2) Is not that same joy awaiting me?

I go to meet the One who loved me before the foundation of the world and who created me in his image, the One who waits for me with open arms and shows the nail-scars in his hands, the One who overcame death and who gives resurrection, the One who promises eternal life and in whom I place my soon-tested faith. Amen!

[This final post was prepared prior to my death, in expectation of that day, and is posted at my request. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey.

I wish with all my heart that I could just hand you my faith, and that it would be yours to keep. But life doesn't work that way–you must make that choice yourself. May you choose wisely, and may you experience Jesus' many blessings.]

I’ve always hoped that keeping everyone up to date, and “in the loop” would provide best for everyone, and everyone would know what to pray for. But that’s not always been possible, as we do not understand ALS well ourselves. But in this case, it seems that there’s foul work even at that level, because the disease seems to have components of analysis that still prevent our cooperation.

It seems I still have attributes related to short term memory loss due to some function of ALS itself. This was not supposed to be happening, as memory degradation was supposed to be unchanged further by ALS intervention. But our experience shows quite the opposite struggle, and we have been having a very difficult time coping with reality. We don’t know much detail, but will try to let you know.

Please pray that our needs be met, and that, as it turns out that I have to be continually re “learning” the simplest decision unpredictably, that God’s strength be constantly in use. May his use of your prayer be mighty.

Silence! Silence and waiting. Some people find these to be difficult, weary tasks, and a chore beyond endurance. But I think otherwise–I think it’s an asset of seasoned Christian experience that I find worthy of discipline. Yesterday, I waited as the contents of the tomb now hold something entirely new, something remade in Christs’s crucified image took place as we sat here. “Of course … change is always expected”. But do we know what kind of change to expect? “Of course not … change is always more than what we expect.”

So today i’m listening more than speaking–i’ve got the time. I had noticed that these blogs had been (always) getting longer lately, and (always) found it a little troublesome (always) to me personally. The problem is that I could keep on adding more information indefinitely, (and always) but never enough more of God–who (always) seems to be larger than expected–as is an attribute of his nature.

So here’s the total grand plan. My new goal is to include only enough material to tell the necessary story, with only enough glue to keep it in place together. God will use himself to fill in anything missing, and we’ll all have plenty. A daily resurrection to all we ever needed in life. Enjoy!

John knew Peter. He knew him well–better than all the hints suggested. Actually, I’d bet that John knew Peter to his depths. So when John writes something in his gospel, and we get extra tips about Peter’s character and nobody flinches, don’t raise your bet. Peter is the man whom he claims to be–nothing more, nothing less. It’s usually Peter’s friend John who has held his tongue until the end. Peter is capable of denial and, in spite of all honesty, here it comes. Or there it goes, … Depending upon your perspective. You can read the details beginning with John Chapter 18

Jesus had already defused all the theological debate before Peter could speak–a little quick healing of a sword-cut ear, and Jesus’ declaration that he was the “I AM”–God’s Messiah. Because forgiveness is between Jesus and Peter, no one else.

John knows enough of the right kind of people to be on the wrong end of two or three questions about political firewood of the wrong party tonight. “The woman asked Peter, ‘You’re not one of that man’s disciples, are you?’ “No,” he said, “I am not.” (John 18:17) Again, because forgiveness is between Jesus and Peter, no one else.

Jesus knows that Peter needs forgiveness. Peter’s forgiveness is based on Jesus’ knowledge, his declaration, his crucifixion, and therefore  was 100% secure. Jesus (and only Jesus) knew it absolutely. They are perfectly free to accomplish it–to forgive, one-on-one. It’s kind of neat that it can just be “done away with” between Peter and Jesus and John. I always tend to think of it being chronologically much later, but really, it’s the end of the same day for Peter.

So … Peter is around those who are 100% new. His day can be undone. And it is, as he is forgiven by Jesus. So I wonder … how often is the forgiveness of sin simply an “un-doing” of sin, or are there always additional unique events. Or perhaps only God knows. Always the miracle as seen from our perspective!

I’ve always been interested in how languages fit together. Origins of words–that kind of thing. A partial connection to a similar word might help refine the meaning. At best perhaps it’s a curiosity to me at the same time. (I like puzzles. Specifically, the explanation of puzzles.) So when a word-connection becomes part of its explanation–well, twice the fun. So today I’m pondering a sentence about how mankind reacted to sin that I find quite interesting because of the word connections. Because of Adam and Eve’s choices (sin), they essentially withdrew from God’s presence. But I don’t think they knew what that meant.

If we could leave theology aside, (which we of course cannot, and probably should not, even if we wished to), and since the term for God’s Spirit in Hebrew (“ruach”) means “wind” or “breath” I’m looking at a sentence that describes that first time that Adam and Eve did not respond to God’s invitation to walk and talk. It goes like this: “When the cool evening breezes were blowing, the man and his wife heard the Lord God walking about in the garden. So they hid from the Lord God among the trees.” (Genesis 3:8) You’ll notice no particular sign of remorse or condemnation coming from God’s end. I find that there does not seem to be any particular difficulty “having” sin, only a problem running from sin, hiding from sin, living with sin. It seems that it’s equivalent to marking some other box for “Status“. In my case, I presently claim “Sin”, (my present nature), but will soon change my claim status to claim “Life” because of Ephesians 2:1-6. So will today now be the next date of our random chat? If so, please put it on my calendar.

Actually, God, can we still chat together this week, regardless? Because If we’re going to be giving up the “Jesus, what’s on your mind this week?” spontaneity, then I think we are giving up too much. I really enjoy the surprise of an otherwise unadorned day. (Note to self: If I could find out, for instance, what God does on his day off, I’ve just found out something that I personally will cherish greatly. But then who decides which results are important enough to keep? Maybe I’ve gotta find out who empties the wastebaskets around here. This is gonna be fun ….

The mere weight of evidence has perhaps now equalled its usefulness. I can, in theory, copy useless or useful information into this system. It. Can therefore be commented on, and the knowledge becomes larger than the original. But since it’s my blog, I keep it to a few hundred characters. In fact, list length of characters is a good start for the intro paragraph. What I even care about is that we’re all going to end up becoming some kind of contributor, if not bloggers ourselves, and therefore feel _some_ responsibility for the glut–I grew up in a smaller world, you know. It it real. But what is YOUR response?

You may have noticed that I used “YOUR” in all caps–actually equivalent in politically correct talk such as this, to “yelling”. You will rarely find it. I scarcely use such strongly politically correct language, intentionally using all caps at this instant for the first time in decades. But I mean it, which then exactly means you’re dealing with the “for real.” This at the very moment that I’ve been spreading the word that I’m become less capable than normal in making and keeping responses via blogging, due to manual dexterity, it becomes less helpful for God to use only me instead of his Holy Spirit in such manner anyway, since almost anyone can now blog if he/she wishes to. Why am I spending hours doing laboriously what I once would have just written better input software to do anyway.

I’ve been thinking about faith so much lately, but I expect it’s really your faith I’ll have to eventually trust anyway, isn’t it. I must trust your faith, friend, to increase as mine becomes something more. (Why do relationships always have to trust so much. You know, the “He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less.” (John 3:30) kind?)

I’ve always been suspicious about mass-produced items intended for consumers. But my personal paranoia is just bigger by design. I like leaving room for the unexpected. I first became enamored by computers when I saw what things they’ll be able to do graphically as technology advances. Even now, we’ve barely scratched the surface. But I’m more than ever convinced that I’d rather see nature’s bloom rather than a perfectly matched, Pantone-specified, color adjusted perfect photograph. Even when the stem of my flower leaves me with a souvenir scratch or two. I prefer reality.

Several years ago, a friend who managed a campground in Alaska was willing to coordinate our trips to Alaska, so that we might attend their wedding. And to assure our arrival for a dinner, where fresh salmon was being served. Being from Ohio, I had been formerly unaware of the difference between fresh salmon and some ice-packed fishy substance ofttimes sold near here under a similar name. I will not make that mistake again. That fresh Alaskan salmon is the standard by which all fish is measured by my taste buds. It’s a different food. I prefer reality.

When I was in my early teens, I went to an evening gathering of church youth. It was definitely a fiasco for the leader who was supposed to be “in charge”. Only four youth even showed up. I was not even a believer, personally waffling between atheism and expressing my disdain for those who might claim otherwise. Yet what I saw at that meeting were other youth who loved me with an impossible love, a love deeper than what was physically possible. The existence of such a “spiritual” love–Jesus’ love–is proof to me of God’s existence. I prefer reality.

We’re not in Kansas any more, Toto. Hebrews 11:1 claims, “Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.” When by faith we know that our eternity is secure, what other assurance could we ask? “Instead, you must worship Christ as Lord of your life. And if someone asks about your Christian hope, always be ready to explain it.” (1Peter 3:15) I am anxious to show our faith for what it is, newness and fullness. I prefer reality.