Ruth Simmons

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and deeply loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with one another and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.  Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful.  Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom.  (Col 3:12-16a)

 

My mother’s younger sister became my port in the storm.  You never know when your life experiences—the trials and storms through which you’ve traveled—are going to provide the tools needed to guide another through their times of trouble.

 

My Aunt Ruth is a perfect example.  After years of tumultuous marriage to my uncle, he, having found another, walked away from their marriage.  She was left to face many years of loneliness, heartache, education, and preparation which had given her a huge capacity to provide encouragement, empathy and the straight “I’ve been there and done that” talk which I needed so desperately during that period of time.

 

Upon my release from jail, I lived with my brother and his family for six weeks.  While I was so thankful for them and their hospitality, I began to feel my presence there was causing conflict in their marriage and disruption in their lives.  It was time to go.

 

Ruth, still living alone in a beautiful house situated on a lake outside Memphis, graciously took me in, gave me the downstairs master suite and fed me for ten months. 

 

From her recent letters, I feel confident she would agree that we helped each other in a symbiotic way through those months.  She provided a safe and stable home environment – a serene haven where the weekly visits with my children could occur within the terms of the court decree.  I helped with the upkeep of the property and was a companion to fill some of the lonely hours.

 

Together we ate, watched television, went to church.  We wept, laughed, prayed and rejoiced.  She advised, chastised, instructed and loved me through those days, and she will never (this side of heaven) fully comprehend how much I appreciate and love her for her help, love and sacrificial spirit.

 

She was my third angel!

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Go on to Chapter 37….

Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.

Past Experience Determines Future Actions

It’s part of the human condition.  Unless there is a mental defect that causes us to ignore what has gone before, the things we experience tend to affect future decisions and actions.  We don’t touch the red-hot burner because we’ve been burned before.  We don’t speed through a certain stretch of road for we’ve been stopped there before.  We don’t take that deduction due to the audit it caused before.

And this is the way it should be – the way God intended that it should be.  The learning curve – while longer in some – is God’s way of teaching us the important lessons of life so we can avoid the pitfalls that have the potential to harm us.

But it’s interesting (at least to me) that, while we can remember not to clip that toenail too short (ouch!) or take that big swig of steaming coffee (ouch again!) or stick our tongue on the frozen flag pole (duh!), we don’t remember the faithfulness of God in the past when we’re faced with new challenges.  We are all poster children for forgetfulness and we all seem as geese and wake up in a brand new world every day, forgetting how He made a way through those deserts in our past.  We haughtily scoff at the poor children of Israel when we see them repeatedly turn from God at the advent of every new trial while we do exactly the same thing in our day to day living.

Just once I would like to be able to face down a trial and the potential for depression and despondency by pointing back to His faithfulness and deliverance and sustaining grace that have not just punctuated, but have characterized my life, especially of late.  If I stop to think about it, He has provided in such wondrous and miraculous ways through out my life.  He has protected me and the ones I love even as I was doing my best to destroy all I should have held most dear.  He was carried me through the deep waters and the long nights and has placed me in a place of safety and met all my needs when I probably deserve it the least of anyone I know.

And yet, just as the Israelite whose sandels were still dusty from the floor of the Red Sea voices his desire to return to bondage, I seem to face each new situation with dread and fear.

When will we learn?  When will I learn that He is able and willing so handle every situation and provide for every need according to His riches?  When will I realize once and for all that nothing surprises Him or catches Him off guard?  When will it sink in that He never thinks, “Man, I didn’t see that one coming!”?

Ouch and Duh.  Maybe next time………..

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For more Ponderings, click here.

A Prayer for the Day

July of 2006 was difficult.  The fact that I had accepted the reality that i would have to finish paying my debt to society inside the prison rather than on parole did not alter the fact that I still had fifteen long and tedious months to go before I would be allowed to enjoy physical freedom again.

Into that mindset entered a wonderful friend and encourager.  She brought me back from the brink of despair more times than she knows.  I thank God for her.

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            There are those among us – ordinary, everyday, almost anonymous people – who have and exercise the gift of encouragement.  They usually feel unimportant because their gift – at least in their eyes – seems so small when they compare it with the gifts of others around them.  They probably cannot sing.  They would be mortified if asked to speak to any group larger than two.

            And yet they have this ministry of encouragement and they throw themselves into it with all their being.

            The apostle Paul was blessed to have such people in his life.  One in particular, during those early days after his conversion, with everyone suspicious of his new-found faith in Christ, was a young man named Joseph, to whom his friends affixed the moniker of Barnabus.  He came to Paul’s aid.  Barnabus went out on a limb, took a chance of damaging his reputation and vouched for Paul to the brothers in Jerusalem.

            If it had not been for Barnabus, this quiet and unassuming man, our New Testament may very well be much thinner.  Without this encouragement, Paul may not have had the dramatic success that he ultimately had.  We’ll never know the effect this gesture had on the apostle’s ministry.

            I am blessed in this way, too, for I have an encourager.  She, like Barnabus, is a quiet and unassuming person.  She has enough problems, issues and stresses in her own life that anyone would understand if she turned her focus inward and put blinders on as to the rest of the world.

            But this person has chosen to become my encourager.  Even at risk to herself for, like Paul in those early days, my supporters are not well received in many places and circles.

            But she doesn’t care.  She writes, sometimes two and three times a week.  She send me postage stamps.  She searches the internet for inspirational items to send in the hope that they will brighten my day.

            And they do!

            I thank God for her.  She sent me this prayer, which I have modified slightly and reproduced for you here.  I hope it helps you as it did me.

 

Dear Lord,

I thank you for this day.  I thank you for being able to see and hear this morning.  I’m blessed because You are a forgiving God and an understanding God.  You have done so much for me and You keep on blessing me.  Forgive me this day for everything I have done, said or thought that was not pleasing to You.  I ask now for Your forgiveness.

Please keep me safe from all danger and harm.  Help me start this day with a new attitude and plenty of gratitude.  Let me make the best of each and every day and to clear my mind so that I can hear from You.

Please broaden my mind that I can accept all things.

Let me not whine and whimper over things I have no control over.  Let me continue to see sin through Your eyes and acknowledge it as evil.  And when I sin, let me repent, and confess with my mouth my wrongdoing, and receive Your forgiveness.

And when this world closes in on me, let me remember Jesus’ example – to slip away and find a quiet place to pray.  It’s the best response when I am pushed beyond my limits.  I know that when I can’t pray, You listen to my heart.  Continue to use me to do Your will.

Continue to bless me that I may be a blessing to others.  Keep me strong that I may help the weak.  Keep me uplifted that I may have words of encouragement for others.  I pray for those that are lost and can’t find their way.  I pray for those that are misjudged and misunderstood.  I pray for those who don’t know You intimately.  I pray for those who don’t believe.  But I thank you that I believe.

I believe that You change people and You change things.  I pray for my loved ones.  For each and every family member and their households.  I pray for peace, love and joy in their homes, that they are out of debt and all their needs are met.

I pray that every eye that reads this knows that there is no problem, circumstance or situation greater than You.  Every battle is in Your hands for You to fight.  I pray that these words will be received into the hearts of every person that sees them – into the hearts that confess You willingly.

This is my prayer,

In Jesus’ Name,

Amen

 

            -Modified from a prayer of Ruby Dannhaus.

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For more Ponderings, click here.

Fellowship with Him

“And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness.”

Ephesians 5: 11

 

The questionable thing is often the last stronghold of the enemy in our souls. It may be a matter of our very survival to continue to nurture its….

 

Fellowship With Him

 

“No fellowship,” dear God–not just with sin–

But all that bears not fruit for Thee alone;

How easy just to drift until we’ve grown

                Shallow, lean, and cold, and Christ within

                Is grieved with our divided love for Him!

 

How tempting now to choose the fruitless way,

The “pleasures of the world” within our gates;

The thing that’s maybe good, but satiates

                Our thinking ’til the best has fled away!

                (You warned us, God, to ever watch and pray!)

 

Thy fruit is goodness, truth, and righteousness,

Which leaves us no excuse in choice to err;

Lord, let not compromise become the subtle snare

                That robs us of the knowledge Thou dost bless-

                Outside Thy will, there is no peace or rest!

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For more of the poetry of my grandmother, visit the “Uplifted Eyes” page.

Tim Jacobsen

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.  Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.  In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so they may take hold of the life that is truly life.  (I Timothy 6:17-19)

 

Shortly after my arrest, and as the first step in the long and frustrating criminal justice process, I was arraigned and advised of my $150,000 bond.  For the uninitiated, (and I pray you stay that way) freedom can be obtained by the payment of ten percent of that amount and the pledging of assets valued at more than the full amount.

 

Consequently, since Sally was in control of all of our assets, the thought of freedom never even entered my mind for the first few weeks.  Well, that’s not entirely accurate, freedom was a constant thought and prayer, but there was little hope, short of a miracle, that it would become a reality.  I don’t know why I made the comment on that particular day.  It wasn’t the first time I’d spoken to him since my arrest, but on that day I pled with my friend to get me out.

 

I’d had the privilege of meeting Tim Jacobsen in 1992.  He was a prominent and successful real estate agent, and I was a closing attorney in need of new clients.  Our first meeting was more of an interview.  Unhappy with his current attorney, he was looking to make a change and I was thrilled.  He was a blessing for my business then, but became much more than a client during the years that followed.

 

In the weeks following my arrest and unknown to me, my family, not quite sure about my frame of mind or what I would do if released, sought an agreement that Tim would not assist in obtaining my release.  He refused but offered a compromise.  He agreed not to initiate bail or bring it up in conversation with me.  But he went further to say if I ever asked he would do whatever he could to affect my release from the jail.

 

So when I made my plea to him on that mid-August morning, he set wheels in motion, collected six thousand dollars from two other families, added two thousand dollars of his own, and pledged his property as collateral.  On August 25, 2001, still uncertain as to my future, I walked out of the jail on a dark and steamy Memphis evening.  Nothing has ever felt so good!

 

Through the following months, during this time of restricted freedom, Tim and his wife “hired” me to help them paint their house, fed me more times than I can count, gave me access to their Arkansas lake house, and, most importantly, took me to church, prayed with and for me, provided the court-mandated chaperone for visits with my children and allowed me to weep on their shoulders. I’ve never had a friend like Tim.  I’m still in contact with him and thank God every day for his presence in and impact on my life.

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Go on to Chapter 36….

Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.

A New Holiday

Regrets
          Renewals
                    Rewards
     This shouldn’t be as difficult as it’s turning out to be. And, as opposed to the normal writing issues, the difficulty here comes not from having nothing to say but from having too much. I simply can’t include it all.
     The humbling part of all this is the realization that it was one year ago today that I was released from prison, walked out of that gate and into the arms of my three sons and my brother. In many ways it seems like an eternity. In others it seems just a blink ago.
     There are the natural regrets: a way of life lost; the disintegration of a family; disappearance of material possessions; the years wasted languishing away in the prison.
     But the focus cannot stay there for that is counterproductive and dibilitating. The focus must – and does – shift to the renewals: revived relationships with my children; work to accomplish with my mind and hands; friendships forged, both inside and out, that endure; and most vital of all, the renewal of my relationship with my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ – without having to endure the things listed in the regret column, I wonder if I would have ever been truly free and completely His.
     And there are rewards. Even this early on I can see that the story I have been given through this time is one that has the potential to help others. My prayer is that I am able to find the channel by which I may accomplish that.
     But you’re wondering what this new holiday is. It is my personal emancipation day. It is a personal Thanksgiving – a time of remembering the past, even as painful as it is, so that the mistakes are not repeated and the renewals and rewards are not taken for granted.
     One year ago today, the stress was thick and excruciating. No home. No mode of transportation. Very few worldly possessions. No job. Very little money. Only questions and apprehension.
     Today I enjoyed a vacation day from the job where I have progressed from janitor to administrative assistant. I slept late – 8:30 compared to the normal 4:20. I drank an entire pot of freshly ground Starbucks coffee brewed in my own coffee-maker in my own kitchen. I listened to beautiful and uplifting music on my own stereo in my own living room. I had lunch with a friend. I vacuumed out my car. I shopped for groceries and am now attached to a wireless Internet account writing this entry.
     So many simple things. So many things taken for granted and unappreciated.
     Not me. Not now. Not today.
     I’m free. Free from prison. Free from sin. Free from guilt and shame. Free from hiding and secrets and the pain of living a life away from God.
     On this new holiday – one that will be spent as a time away from the norm every year – I am free and thankful.

November 2, 2001

The letters were written at about the same time.  From my end of the world, the storm was still looming large but there was a calmness there beside the beautiful little lake east of Memphis.  The jail was over two months in my rear-view mirror and the holidays were approaching.

Five hundred miles away, in the sleepy little river town of Danville, my precious father was battling his own demons and regrets.

I didn’t receive his letter – he never mailed it.  It was over six years later, as my brother and I sifted through his belongings several days after his death, that these words were read for the first time.  And, unlike the stirring and motivating epistles that carried me through the prison years, this letter reveals the other side of my father – the side that never really recovered from his failure and fall.

My heart breaks every time I read it.  I feel that I should have been able to clue in and help him in some way during those years.  But I didn’t.  Couldn’t.  And now it’s too late.

My only consolation?  He has received the ultimate healing and is now in the presence of his Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus.  In that light, it’s more difficult to maintain that regret.

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Hi Dad,

 40 years ago. WOW!!!

 You’ve been such a great help to me, Dad.  I can’t thank you enough for your trips down here, your understanding and unconditional love.  For sharing the journey that you have made and helping me to learn from the things that you have been through.  Thank you.

 I’m seeing the boys tomorrow for the 2^nd time and I’m looking forward to it.  Ruth is going to get them and will be here during the visit. (She’s been great.)

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November 3, 2001

Sons – Dan and Andy,

   I am trying to settle on my final arrangement with the funeral home.  It will be a cremation.  It apprears to total about or under $2000.  I am to meet with them on the 5^th to sign the contract.

   At my decease, I will be taken to the hospital emergency room for a death pronouncement and then to the funeral home where they will transport me to Martinsville for the cremation.

The burial plot is paid for.  All funeral costs will be underwritten by me.

   I will enclose my DD-214’s (Honorable Discharge) from the military who will reimburse part of the cost of the funeral.

   I am working to have a will drafted leaving the house to both sons.  Also, access to my checking and savings accounts.  All furniture goes with the apartment house but you are welcome to anything – it’s yours to rent out or sell and split the surplus between you.

Clothes and personal items that you don’t have a use for can be put in garbage bags and put at the pickup behind the garage.

   Sorry to put you boys to this trouble.  I feel I have been enough trouble already….in every way.

   Final words don’t come easy.  But I love you both since the time of your birth.  I have lived these years on memories.  I regret that I disappointed you and left you and your mother.  For many years I have tried to recover our home and family.  I guess it was a case of “too little – too late.”  I have loved your mother all these years.  Nobody could ever take her place.  I have been empty and dead inside but never giving up hope that someday it would work out in spite of all that has happened.  Recently, when your mother became ill, I finally gave up – that light of hope has gone out.  I hope we will all meet again.  The four of us, like it used to be.

Thank you for your love, patience and forgiveness.  You will both make it – as you have already learned, it won’t be easy!  “The world, the flesh and the devil”, like three wild beasts waiting to ambush at every bend of the road.  It takes the “whole armor of God” to withstand this terrifying assault. 

   Your mother related a dream she had about her daddy shortly after he died.  She said it was as though her Dad was right there in the bedroom and spoke the words, “Gwen, only those that ‘endure to the end’ shall be saved.”  She was weeping with both fright and joy over hearing her Dad’s voice and his message to her.

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I am unsure whether he was interrupted in the writing or that it was just too painful to continue.  There was no final words – no “Love, Dad.”  It just ended.

After all that has happened in our lives and all the things I have witnessed and experienced, there are several things of which I am sure:

- My Dad is no longre dead inside but is alive, vibrant and rejoicing in the presence of His Savior.
- My precious Mother will be there soon, for her condition has worsened and, before Alzheimer’s stole her, she had a glorious testimony.
- I have my own letter to write to the Sons with whom God blessed me, for I have failed them and hurt them and will never be able to make it all up to them in this life.
- I have wasted huge portions of my life chasing after things that could never possibly satisfy.  NO MORE!!  Whatever time there is left, and with whatever God will see fit to allow me to do, I will savor and succeed, not squander and waste.
- The end is close.  Jesus’ return is beyond imminent.   We MUST be ready to go.

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For more of the Prodigal’s Mail, click here.

Eyes of a Donkey

And Jehovah opened the mouth of the ass, and she said unto Balaam, “What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times.?” -Numbers 22:28

We sure are hard on each other. And, that being so, we are usually hardest on those who love us and who are trying to help us.

The donkey was getting a pretty good beating and her only mistake was being afraid. She wasn’t being stubborn, despite the proclivity of her breed. She wasn’t being willfully disobedient or even mean-spirited. She was just afraid. Afraid of what was plainly there in front of her and her master. Afraid of what had to be a fearsome sight – an angel of the Lord, sword drawn, standing in their path.

Blinding, pure, heavenly light piercing the eyes in broad daylight. Ten thousand suns barring their path. Who wouldn’t be afraid? Who wouldn’t turn aside?

I would.

          You would.

                    The donkey did.

But old Balaam was blind. Not physically maybe, but definitely spiritually blind. Consumed by his own ideas, wishes, plans and desires. He was blinded to the reality of the blocked path, the closed door, the dead end.  Sound familiar?

Recognize that description?

Look in a mirror. Do you see a blind man? A visually challenged woman? Maybe you see a donkey.  What’s it going to take to get your attention? A divorce? A bankruptcy? A prison sentence? Maybe a talking donkey?

That’s what worked for Balaam. Are you going to listen to the messages sent your way or are you going to be the donkey?

It’s really up to you.

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For more Ponderings, click here.

Gene Lee

God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble (Psalm 23:20)

 

See I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you.  (Exodus 23:20)

 

The county jail in Shelby County, Tennessee, ranks in the nation’s top five for both internal violence and size.  The number of inmates housed in those seven stories averages around 4000.

 

I spent my first ever night of incarceration on the lower level of that imposing facility which is more like a dungeon than anything I’ve ever imagined.  I was on suicide watch.  This meant I was issued neither sheets nor blanket and was awakened every fifteen minutes all night.  I reckon someone figured that at some point through that night, lying on an old bare State mat, shivering in that subterranean hell-hole, I would realize the severity and desperation of my situation and decide to end it all.  The thought never crossed my mind.

 

The next morning I was moved to a pod (or group) of cells on the third floor of that behemoth.  I’d heard the stories.  I was nervous, but the day passed without incident.

 

Morning #2 found me moving again.  It wasn’t a big deal, you understand.  I mean, all I “owned” was a couple of pair of County-issued clothes.  I didn’t even need a bag.

 

Anyway, I guess it was in my file that I needed my Celexa (the “wonderful” anti-depressant) which surely kept me from doing something really stupid, so I was assigned to the second floor.  Floor two is where all the inmates receiving medications are congregated in order to ease the severely overwhelming burden imposed on the nursing staff by reducing their travel time.  I’m being a bit facetious here but the wide-spread disbursement of the drugs would certainly have medications being sold and exchanged more than already occurs. This latter reason for the special existence of that floor is dubious.  Drugs—both legal and illegal were readily available.

 

The point of all this is to introduce you to my first “angel”.  Gene Lee and I could not have been more different.  He was black—I was not; He was the father of thirteen children by four different women—I had only three by one; He had been incarcerated multiple times aggregating to over twenty of his forty-six years—I was a rookie; He was a self-admitted drug addict who was never sober unless he was incarcerated—I’d never even seen drugs unless they were prescribed; He smoked—I didn’t; He was a gang member—I was scared to death.  However, in spite of our differences, I thank God for Gene Lee.  He was quiet and steady and, for some reason, took me under his wing and taught me how to “jail”.  He spread the word that I was to be left alone.  He taught me some card games, and we would sit in the cell, play cards and talk about God. He helped me survive those first 69 days and taught me things that continue to serve me well.

 

I left Gene in the jail on August 25, 2001, but I stayed in touch with him.  When he was later transferred to the Penal Farm (a work camp in the county), I was his only visitor.  When it came time for him to be released, I was able to take him some “street” clothes (since his had been lost in the system), outfitted him with some of the necessities from K-Mart, ate Church’s fried chicken with him and delivered him to his aunt’s house.  The last time I heard from Gene, he called to tell me he was being baptized at the little church he had been attending.  And, even though I have not heard from him in over six years, I consider him my friend and thank God for him. 

 

Maybe he’ll read this and get in touch with me again.

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Go on to Chapter 35….

Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.

…including Peter

“….including Peter…..”  (Mark 16:7)

           

It had been a rough week for Peter.  For the one Jesus had dubbed “the Rock”, the events of the past ninety-six hours had been the sledge hammer.  He was a broken man.  Smashed to pieces against his own good intentions.

He had protested at the foot washing Jesus had performed.

He had brashly proclaimed his willingness to go through death with his Lord.

Feeling guilty over his inability to stay awake in the garden, together with his proclivity to act before thinking, he sliced off an ear and received the rebuke of the One he was attempting to protect.

We can almost hear him think, “I just can’t do anything right.”

Then, to compound all of that, when the rubber met the road he faltered.

He failed.

Did you hear that?  He finished what he had started….making a complete mess of things.

And, when the rooster crowed that morning and his mind’s eye replayed the scene and he heard once again Jesus predict this failure, he was done.  Finished.  Humiliated.  Embarrassed.  Done!

Brashness was gone.

Self-image destroyed.

Hope of recovery shattered.

Peter, the Rock, became Simon the fisherman again.  Resigned to a life of mediocrity and obscurity – a failure.

But Jesus had others plans for Peter.  Plans that required – even demanded – his brokenness.

Jesus saw the potential where the world saw failure.  Jesus saw promise where Peter saw only denial.  Jesus saw the foundation of His church while Peter was resigned to pulling and mending nets.

So, on Easter morning, it was no accident that the angel at the tomb specified Peter by name.  At the mention of “disciples”, the women would have naturally included Peter.

It wasn’t for fear of them forgetting to tell Peter.  It wasn’t for Jesus’ sake or heaven’s sake that his name was called.

It was for Peter’s sake.

You see, Peter didn’t feel much like a disciple that morning.  As far as he was concerned that designation had been forfeited, once and for all, around a fire three days before.  A commission for the women to go and tell the disciples would not have drawn Peter to the meeting.

So his name was called.  His was the only name called.  He was the only one who had denied the Christ.  He was the only one whose temperament would not allow him to forgive himself.  So he was called by name.

“Make sure you tell Peter,” the angel said.

Imagine how Peter felt when he heard that heaven had called him by name.

Have you heard your name called?  Do you think your failure is greater than Peter’s?  Do you think you’ve been too bad to be forgiven?

Forget it!  Jesus loves you and is calling you by name.  He has plans for you.  Plans to prosper you as you work for Him.

Repent of your sins.  Genuinely apologize to the God of Heaven and Earth for your failures and then forgive yourself – He’s already forgiven you – and move on in service to Him.

“Now go and give this message to His disciples, including ______.”  Your name goes here.  He died for you.  He lives to make intercession for you.  He loves you.

And that’s enough!

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For more Ponderings, click here.

Fellowship

“That I may know him, and the fellowship of his sufferings…” Philippians 3:10

 

Just as Earnest looked at the Great Stone Face, until unknowingly he reflected its image, so shall we become like the adorable, tender Jesus if we maintain with Him a constant …

 

Fellowship

 

Eventually there comes to all who pray–

                Who bear a burden for the souls of those in need,

And spend themselves in tears both night and day

                Before the throne, His mercy there to plead–

A greater revelation of the love of God,

A clearer comprehension of the road He trod.

 

They share His lonely vigil as Jerusalem sleeps,

                And grieve with Him for children lost in sin;

They suffer His rejection as He sadly weeps

                For wayward ones who will not enter in!

His passion was for souls until the end of time;
The sharing of His passion must be mine.

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For more of the poetry of my grandmother, visit the “Uplifted Eyes” page.

God’s Faithfulness

Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help.  (Psalm 22:11)

 

The faithfulness of God was evident through these days in spite of my actions, in spite of my lies and in spite of my feeble and misguided attempts to manipulate the outcome of all of this.

 

It didn’t take long for me to determine that the consequences of breaking the law outweighed any actual or perceived benefit from doing so.  It’s probably not too far from the truth that such an epiphany was reached my second night in the Shelby County jail.  I was too freaked out that first night to think about much at all. 

 

Anyway, as I said, God was faithful even during this time; time when I surely did not deserve His protection and provision.  So through the rest of this story I will introduce you to some wonderful, and, no doubt, God-sent people who entered my life just when I needed them the most.  Some are Christians—some are not.  But all were just what I needed.  Their appearance in and effect on my life can only be described as miraculous!

 

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Go on to Chapter 34….

Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.

August 17, 2001

God’s provision is wondrously amazing.  His plans are so far above us we are incapable of even beginning to grasp the idea of them.  His forgiveness and forgetfulness baffle us.  His death confounds and His resurrection and life astound.

And one small evidence of all of that is the love of a mother for even the most wayward of children.

My precious mother loved me through it all as evidenced by this letter…………….

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8-17-01

Dearest Son,

Your last letter was so encouraging to your Mother’s heart.  My heart has been aching for what has brought you to the place you are now.  At this point I can pray in a different way – for health, for your new-found experience and a sound spiritual footing.  Now that the way is clear between you and God, I am believing for better days for you.  We don’t know what the future has in store for you but if you are safely in God’s hand, He will make a way.  He will not waste your talents – he will give you a ministry.  God doesn’t waste a thing.

We are praying all the time that God will deliver you from these circumstances.  We don’t know that He will right away but He answers prayer and we are praying for you fervently.  We are staying in touch with the boys and your wife.  This is not easy on them but I know God has a plan and His way is always best.

God knows what it will take to get us all to Heaven and that is our goal.  Hold hard to your faith.

We will hold you in our hearts and try to help you through this terrible situation.  Nothing can change my love for you.  You will always be my son.  God will make a way for you!!

Love,

Mom

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I was released from jail shortly after receiving this letter.  Through the kindness and generosity of friends, I was able to post bond and return to a semblance of real life for a time.

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For more of the Prodigal’s Mail, click here.

11:30

It’s Monday, the 22^nd of October, 2007.  The face of the watch reports that it is 11:30, but I don’t need to glance at the watch to know that, for the routine is ongoing – just as it has been for the last five years.  It’s just another count time. In cell with Tommy wondering about tomorrow.

Surrounded by others. Alone in my thoughts.

Worried. Apprehensive. Anxious. Afraid.

Even though I have an idea of how tomorrow will go, I don’t think I’ll be sure they’re going to let me go until I’m off the property. I’m not even thinking about the first 23 yet – well, that’s not entirely true – but there are more immediate concerns.

Like getting through this day with my sanity intact.  So long awaited and longed for and now I’m a bundle of nerves with a racing mind and heart.  Most of my stuff is packed in plastic garbage bags – some of it has been that way for months now in anticipation of this time.  A lot of things have been given away to friends who will remain here for a while longer – I certainly know how they feel, for many have left me behind as they have made their own transition and walked through the fence to the freedom waiting on the other side.

But it’s the getting to that point tomorrow that now consumes my thoughts.  Nothing else matters.  Not the locked door in front of me.  Not the routine.  Not the borderline insanity of the staff and inmates alike.  Not the poor food or the rain or the job or the lack of plans or lack of a place to live or the lack of transportation.  None of that matters right now.  Just get me to 10:30 tomorrow morning.

Everything else will follow in time.

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Go on to 12:30

Visit The Last Twenty-Three Page for more.

Render Unto Caesar

“This reply completely amazed them.” –Mark 12:17b

 

The day began as all the others had begun.  Before the earth He had created rotated so that the sun He created cast its light on His temporary home, He was awake.  He was praying.

This day was precious.  This day was full of promise.  This day was one of too few days.  Too few to accomplish all He wanted to accomplish.  One thousand days wasn’t enough.  In some respects – from some perspectives – that number can be daunting, seemingly endless, but His mission was vital and He felt the pressure of the brevity of His time here.

Today the sick would be brought to Him for healing.  The hungry would receive food – for both body and soul.  And there would be the questions.

He didn’t mind the questions.  In fact, He relished them, invited them, enjoyed them.  They revealed the hunger of those He came to save.  They exposed the naiveté of a nation and the lostness of an entire generation.  Teaching these lost lambs about the Kingdom of His Father was His mission, so He loved the questions.

Well, He loved most of the questions.  But today would be one of the days when Satan would send his emissaries to try and trip Him up.  Hypocrites – the religious leaders – would endeavor to discredit Him in front of those poor lost lambs.  They would attempt to cast the seeds of doubt about Him and His mission into the fertile minds of His people.

So this morning He prays to His Father for the answer to the questions – to be ready when the enemy attacked.

And then it happened.

“Now tell us – is it right to pay taxes to the Roman government or not?  Should we pay them or should we not?” (Mark 12:14b-15)

It would have been one thing had this been an innocent question.  It would have been one thing had this not touched on such a political powder-keg of that day.  But as the question was asked the crowd held its collective breath.  You could almost hear their thoughts, “Oh brother, here we go.”

But Jesus just looked at them.   For a very long minute He looked at them.  Their eyes couldn’t hold His gaze.  They knew He saw through them to their motives.  Feet shuffled and throats were nervously cleared.

And His heart broke.  He loved them – hated the sin but loved the sinner.  They were His children – lost, but His.

So He answered their question with a question, “Whose picture and title are stamped on [the coin].”

“Caesar’s,” they replied.

“Well, then, give to Caesar what belongs to him.  But everything that belongs to God must be given to God.”

As we read this account, our minds should immediately jump to the next test – another attempt to trap our Lord.  We should remember the greatest commandment as explained by Jesus, “Love the Lord with all your heart, and all your soul and all your mind.”

Why were the hearers that day so amazed by this answer?  I’m amazed by their amazement.  How can we help but render – present – these things to God.  After all, He made them.  In His own image He made them.  His image is stamped all over them.

It was He who made our heart to beat in its wondrous and perfect rhythm.  It was He who made us just a little lower than the angels but worlds above the rest of creation with an eternal soul.  It was He who lit the first fire between the synapses in our brains and placed within us a will and a conscience.

He made us.  He breathed life into us.  He numbered our hairs and knew us before we were conceived.  He allowed us to make our own decisions which took us away from Him and brought death and pain into our lives.

And then He died for us.  He died to redeem us to Himself.

How can we help but render ourselves a living sacrifice unto Him?

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For more Ponderings, click here.

Failures

“As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.”  Psalms 103:12

 

Where I have fallen, I shall stand; where I have been defeated, I shall be victorious–for the Blood of Jesus covers just now all my sins, and all my ….

 

Failures

 

How comforted our hearts would be

                If we could truly say

That we had never failed our Lord

                Since we have known the Way;

That we had never faltered

                At the sacred task at hand,

Or cringed before the giants

                At the gates of Canaan Land.

 

But if our sins are covered

                By the Blood of Calvary,

And all the failures of the past

                Lie buried in God’s sea,

Then we can lift the shield of faith,

                And passing through the foe,

Possess the land of corn and wine,

                Where blessings overflow!

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For more of the poetry of my grandmother, visit the “Uplifted Eyes” page.

The Barrier Is Finally Broken Down

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion.  Blot out my transgressions.  Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.  For I know my transgressions and my sin is always before me.  Against you, and you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and justified when you judge.  Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me.  Surely you desire truth in the inner parts.  You teach me wisdom in the inmost place.  Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow.  Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice.  Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity.  Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.  Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.  Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will turn back to you.  Save me from blood guilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.  O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.  You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.  The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.  Psalm 51:1-17 (emphasis mine)

 

I wish I could report that after my forty-first birthday, deception was no longer a part of my life—I really do.  But I can’t!  I wish I could report that my deceptions from that point on served some high and lofty purpose, such as sparing someone’s feelings—something, anything, independent of the ME that had ruled my life.  But I can’t, though there was a mixture involved.

 

Having made such a mess of things, having hurt everyone I cared about—everyone who ever cared about me—so deeply, having conceived and then confessed to such a diabolical plot, I felt as though I had to do something to mitigate the damage somehow.

 

So, even with the confession written and signed—even in the face of the taped conversations and messages in which I had expressed my frustration and anger at the failure of the chemical—I changed my story.  I claimed that the confession was made to satisfy the detectives’ request that I corroborate what Wesley had already told them.  That I believed the police when they promised that it was really Wesley they were interested in and, if I would cooperate and corroborate, I would be released the morning after my arrest.  I claimed that I never actually used the chemical!  I fiercely maintained this position through the 12^th of December, 2002, when the pressure finally became too great, and I broke down to Tim Jacobsen and confessed the whole truth again.

 

Why did I do that?  Why in the light of all that had happened, did I feel the need to lie?  Partly because I didn’t want to believe I was capable of such a thing.  Partly because I wanted friends and family to think that I wasn’t capable of such a thing.  Partly because I wanted to diminish the amount of time I would have to serve in prison.  But mostly, I desperately wanted Sally to believe she was never in any real danger, that I wasn’t capable of actually carrying out the awful thing I had contemplated for those weeks and to which I had confessed, and to, hopefully, remove some of the fear which I had brought into her life and heart. 

 

 

Did it work?  I don’t believe so.  The only thing my deception accomplished was to keep me away from my God—the only One who could have helped me.  If this is ever widely read, my friends and family, and the victim and her family, will no doubt conclude that I’ll never change, or they will be hurt further by my admissions—or both!  But while I deeply regret these possible outcomes of my decision to finally tell the whole truth, I must be totally honest, transparent and accountable before my God and my Savior.

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Go on to Chapter 33…..

Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.

August 13, 2001 (Part 4 of 4)

Son, you’re like Moses on the backside of the desert.  You’re in boot camp – you’re in school.  God’s getting you ready for a new work and a new life!

St. Paul wrote his greatest epistles while in prison.  Not a mountain retreat, but a dungeon.

And don’t forget God know how to get His servants out of prison, if He has to shake it down.  That is, if it’s His will.

Jonah disobeyed God and wound up in the stomach of a fish.  God got him out and he set out to accomplish God’s original plan and purpose.

Everything depends on what your plan and purpose is.  If it is to respond to the heart-cry of suffering men, women and children, it is God’s will that they be rescued and saved.

God can only use those who are broken through suffering.  “Even the Son of God learned obedience through the things which He suffered”, and “through suffering Christ became the Captain of our Salvation.”

Peter writes, “After you have suffered a while…make you perfect and establish and settle you.”

God has His own way of getting us fit for service.  “A vessel unto honor, sanctified and meet for the Master’s use.”

As for the pastor and people there, I’m sure they struggle with the matter of loyalties.  Your wife and the boys are the victims and they are reaching out to them which is what they should be doing.  I’m sure pastor and people feel that to show you interest and attention would be an act of disloyalty to your wife and the boys.  This is not right!

You are a victim, too!  A victim of Satan’s scheme.  The word is clear, “If any of you be overtaken in a fault (weakness – sin) ye which are spiritual restore such an one in a spirit of meekness – considering thyself lest thou also be tempted.”  Galatians 6:1.  It goes on to say, “Bear ye one another’s burdens and so fulfill to law of Christ.”  Galatians 6:2.

I, too, ran into this.  While in Nashville trying to recover, I went to a gathering at TNC when Chuck Milhuff was speaking there.  I walked up to a group of ministers, many I had know and worked with.  Twice I went to these men and put out my hand.  They turned and walked away.

Not all are like this, thank god.  Dr. Greathouse, John Andrus (Chattanooga First), Carl Sherman (Papaw’s buddy) and other, have stayed in touch with love and understanding.

As for your marriage, you must know that is over.  She is pushing for the “max” out of fear for herself and the boys.  You must pray for grace to put that family on God’s back burner.

I mentioned several pages back about the 12 steps and the 12 promises.  The first promise is this: We will know a new freedom and a new happiness. 

The second one is tougher to swallow: We will not regret the past not wish to shut the door on it.

This was the big one for me!  I choked on this, and raised the roof about it in many AA meeting.  I would say, “How am I not supposed to regret shattering the hearts of a wonderful wife and sons as well as hundreds of church people who believed in me?”  I really stormed at them until an old-timer with 25 or more years in recovery said, “Bill, everything you lost is what it took to get you where you are today.  It took what it took!  You can feel sad for the hurt you caused others, but don’t regret the price you paid to get straight and sane in your thinking!!”  Then he said, “Don’t shut the door on your past, leave that door ajar – just a crack – because God might just bring back some of those things or people when God feels you are ready for it.”

These are difficult words to digest but so true.  He said, “You leave the door open a crack for another reason.  You will remember people you hurt or things you did that you need to apologize for and set records straight.”

We sang the words for years, “Whatever it takes…”  The main thing is that we are under the Blood and ready for Heaven, and that we are serving Him until He calls us.  It’s hard for us to see God’s “Big Picture” of things.

I’ll pick up on this in another letter.  This is getting long and it’s getting late.  I have gotten your letters and appreciate hearing from you.

I love you and pray daily.

Always,

Your Dad

P.S. Remember….

F  alse
E  vidence
A  ppearing                “FEAR is the ‘dark room’ where all our negatives are developed.”
R  eal

                                                Pretty good, huh?

 

P.P.S.  So glad you are reading and praying!

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For more of the Prodigal’s Mail, click here.

Read Part 3