http://spiritandword.org/blog/category/beyond-religion/ Blog categories... http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/the-trip-begins-today/ Mud Flat Musing: "The Trip Begins Today!"

I tend to wake up earlier in the summer. It seems that birds start their pre-dawn melodies around 4:30 or ...]]> Mud Flat Musing: "The Trip Begins Today!"

I tend to wake up earlier in the summer. It seems that birds start their pre-dawn melodies around 4:30 or 5:00 a.m. - not that I would hear them, the sound sleeper I am! Any guy that got used to sleeping on picnic tables for a year can certainly keeping dozing through the song of meadowlarks - especially when that guy is in a house, in bed, and was up late writing a musing!!

Nevertheless, when I do wake up, it is always nice to see the early morning light and to be aware of the sounds of nature all around me. Of course I do live out in this "10 acre park" - as my friends like to call it. It is a beautiful spot out here on Mud Flat Road, 11 miles from the hustle and bustle of Hay.

Neighbor Bud got the sprinkler system going a couple weeks ago. I'm always amazed when I watch him move around the property on his ATV, going from one sprinkler head to the next, making fine adjustments and occasionally installing a replacement. He tells me some of the larger sprinklers up at the cemetery are original, having been faithfully working since about 1960 - made in the USA, I am sure!

The entire sprinkling system was installed in the late 1950's, from what I can surmise, and without the use of professional help from the outside. I've heard that Howard Wigen was the main engineer behind the project, but I'm sure I will get corrected from some of you locals. Many others helped, of course!

I find it amazing that almost three acres of grass gets sprinkled from water that lies beneath our own land and is pumped so efficiently through the system, keeping this gorgeous setting around our church. It really does make a difference, not only for us people, but for all the animals around here that thrive because of our beautiful green grass and all the trees that have been planted.

A couple mornings ago I woke up about 6:00 a.m. and Scotty, the "Palouse Pup," needed to go outside. He always stays away from the sprinklers with a vengeance - because he doesn't like to get wet. I opened the front door and, wouldn't you know, the front yard sprinklers were in full array of spray - drenching the land.

To my surprise, Scotty did not run back into the house, but rather he ducked his head low, purposefully marched down the sidewalk. Then he tucked his head even further down, undeterred by the down pour of water that he was receiving, plodded into the grass and stopped by the elm tree - the one that is closest to the north end the church.

Of course I knew that he had a job to do - and I'm glad that he is well trained that way. But what surprised me was his sudden sense of duty and vigilance as he endured the constant barrage of water. By the time he came back into the house, he was soaking wet and I had to grab a towel. Suddenly I realized I should have just let him out the back door - duh!

Of course it doesn't take much to get me musing. I thought about times in my own life when I ended up doing something that I really did not want to do, or that I did not necessarily choose to do - in order to accomplish some task or to help someone. Yes, there have been times when I have tucked my head down low and moved forward into the storms of life - whatever they might have been. I think you probably have done the same.

Those moments when I have "pedaled into the wind" and arrived at my goal, have brought me a great sense of satisfaction. I think that is why I have enjoyed bicycle travel so much. Each day is a journey and there are obstacles to be met.

I remember early on in my most recent bicycle odyssey when I was just getting started in Northern California near Napa Valley. I was up and down all day on short steep climbs and was certainly no where near in shape. I coasted into a small town and stopped for hot coffee and some hot soup. It got dark about 4:30 in the afternoon because it was late November - short days. It was raining - a drenching downpour. The thermometer said 49 degrees. I was wet, and thanks primarily to my all wool Pendleton shirt right next to my skin, I still had some body heat.

I could have stayed in a motel that night, of course, but I felt a little of that long dormant "fight through the storm" determination stirring in my soul. According to my map there was a campground about 5 miles away. As I downed my third cup of hot coffee I knew what I must do.

I stowed my Pendleton in my waterproof Ortlieb panniers (wanted to have something dry when I finally got in the tent later) and pulled on my soaking wet, stone cold jersey and bright reflective jacket. With a strange comfort that comes when one's course is set, I headed out into the night. It was a deeply dark winding country road, no shoulder, that followed the land up and down through a very remote area of California. I got lost twice ~ almost goes without saying!

Finally I came upon the campground. There was no one around. Who would be camping on such a night as this? I stopped my bike near a camp site, leaning my trusty Trek 520 against a picnic table. This was not a night to sleep there, as the rain promised to continue through the night. With the frame of mind that I imagine that Scotty had going through the sprinklers, I decided that I was going to not only put up the tent in the rain - but I was going to get my sleeping bag inside and it was going to be dry!

My brand new MSR "Hubba Hubba" tent - friends could not resist creative comments about that name - was top quality. In the darkness I managed to set up the Hubba, cover it with the custom rain fly, and managed to get the sleeping bag and all of my gear into the tent. The wet stuff was relegated to the "narthex" of the tent, still covered, but just outside of the flooring.

Once inside I turned on my flashlight, rolled out my down sleeping bag and put it on top of the little ensolite pad. There it was - a dry sleeping bag - just as rain was incessantly pounding on the walls of the tent. I made a pillow out of all my extra clothes that I crammed into my stuff sack, layed down and read a little bit on my Kindle as soft music played from my cell phone via Pandora Internet radio.

I slowly became aware that I had a little self righteous "I got 'er done!" smirk on my face. I wrote in my journal that night, "The trip began today!"

The NBA playoffs are going on right now. Often I hear commentators say, "The series doesn't begin until the home team loses." Winning a basketball game on the road, with 20,000 fired-up fans, is no easy accomplishment.

I love sunny and calm days - not a care in the world. Life often begins, however, when we deal with some of the adversities that eventually come. The trip of life begins when we hold the hand of a loved one before her last breath. The trip of life begins when we see our children suffer from drug addiction and help them through the pain of recovery. The trip of life begins when we see our grandchildren struggle with bullies in school and lose their first basketball game. The trip of life begins when we lose our job and really don't know how we're going to pay the bills. The trip of life begins when we no longer feel productive, in the eyes of the world, but we find new ways to make a difference.

I do not believe that God brings pain into our world. I do believe God has chosen to give us free will. God allows us to live in an imperfect world. The Lord is here to watch over us, guide us and a walk with us - sometimes carrying us. But when the storms of life build up in the western sky, or deep within our troubled souls, where do you think we get the strength to put our head down and press on? I believe God has given us an innate ability to rise up to the occasion and survive. It is an instinct, an ability, a perseverance, a spiritual power - given by God to help us through the toughest of times.

27 Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.

What are the storms in your life right now? Are you ignoring them, dealing with them, handling them with grace, discouraged by them, or uncertain of what to do?

I often think of the journeys of the Apostle Paul as recorded in the book of Acts. I try to put myself in the place of those early Christians who, despite threats to their lives, pressed on toward the goal of telling the "Jesus story." They knew that what they were doing was so important - it was worth the price that they would have to pay.

30 since you are going through the same struggle you saw I had, and now hear that I still have.

My prayer is that you can feel the power of God when you are losing strength. Regardless of the challenge, whether it be physical, emotional, spiritual, financial or... just know that sometimes you need to tuck your head down and press on, no matter what. Right there in the middle of the storm sometimes we come into the eye of the hurricane. Winds are swirling all around - but there is that peaceful spot that we can find, much like a real typhoon, where that sense of God's presence and comfort truly does pass all understanding.

It is amazing to me how the Lord gives us strength. Let's not blame God for the pain or the anguish. Rather, trusting that God will help us through these trials and tribulations, let's seek peace in the arms of the Lord.

Prayer: Thank you Jesus for walking in ministry from place to place. I am amazed how you took time for the everyday people and offered your helping and healing hand. Jesus, help me find the eye of the storm and the strength to carry on. In your name I pray, Amen.

The Good Book:

27 Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in the one Spirit, striving together as one for the faith of the gospel 28 without being frightened in any way by those who oppose you. This is a sign to them that they will be destroyed, but that you will be saved—and that by God. 29 For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him, 30 since you are going through the same struggle you saw I had, and now hear that I still have. (Philippians 1: 27-30)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/the-trip-begins-today/ Wed, 15 May 2013 05:31:07 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/spiritual-connection-between-humans-and-animals/ The bonds between companion animals and their humans is a spiritual matter than involves love and deep connections. We thought of this again when we r...
In this article about Holly's amazing feat, Pam Belluck quotes Marc Bekoff, a behavioral psychologist at the University of Colorado: "I really believe these stories, but they're just hard to explain. Maybe being smart, maybe reading animal clues, maybe being able to read cars, maybe being a good hunter. I have no data for this."




Rupert Sheldrake, an English biologist, wrote a bestselling book titled Dogs That Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home and Other Unexplained Powers of Animals. He describes experiments and data on three forms of psychic ability found in animals: direction-finding, telepathy, and precognition. Anyone with a cat who runs away to hide whenever it's time to take her to the vet knows that there is much more to study here.

But for now, the why behind this and similar stories is a mystery. (Our personal theory, unverifiable but just as good as any other explanation, we think, is that Holly was being coached on the route home by animal spirits on the other side.)

The message to take home from Holly's 200-mile trek is that the spiritual love connection between animals and humans creates wonders and miracles beyond our understanding.

By Frederic & Mary Ann Brussat
from spiritualityandpractice]]> http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/spiritual-connection-between-humans-and-animals/ Tue, 14 May 2013 18:21:18 +0000 Charlie Van Dyke http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/walking-as-a-spiritual-practice/

When I am moving down the street, I say my mantra and my mind is cleared for the sensory delight of the city and its abundant stimulation in sights, sounds, and smells. Walking for me is a devotional path that leads through body to Spirit. Of course it is much more as well.



Most physicians recommend 30 minutes of brisk walking every day as a prescription for healthy living and mental clarity. In Surprises Around the Bend: 50 Adventurous Walkers, Richard Hasler, a a Presbyterian minister, includes tributes to this discipline by physicians and naturalists, poets and novelists, politicians and teachers, pilgrims and seekers, prophets and social reformers.

We learn in these pages that Henry David Thoreau felt transformed while sauntering through the natural world. Throughout his lifetime, Carl Jung was an avid walker. William and Dorothy Wordsworth were companion walkers who shared their innermost feelings with each other. Taking a stroll was a regular part of poet Wallace Steven's daily activities, and James Michener included "quiet rambles" in his regimen. Dorothy Day prayed while she walked.


Julia Cameron, a contemporary writer, recommends a regular walk to revive the creative process. In The Sound of Paper, she says a walk both opens us up and feeds us:
"Try this. Nothing invites creative breakthroughs so successfully as walking. Even a twenty minute Walk is long enough to fling open the inner door to insight and inspiration. Take a twenty-minute Walk. Take note: What ideas come to you? What insights, inspirations, and realizations? We speak of a body of knowledge, and walking gives us exactly that. We embody far more than we often allow ourselves to contact. Walking puts us in touch."


By Frederic Brussat
From spiritualityandpractice]]> http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/walking-as-a-spiritual-practice/ Mon, 13 May 2013 23:54:36 +0000 Charlie Van Dyke http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/fly-in-formation/ Mud Flat Musing: "Fly in Formation"

It was my first trip to South Dakota, and I was amazed at the vastness of the badlands surrounding the Black Hi...]]> Mud Flat Musing: "Fly in Formation"

It was my first trip to South Dakota, and I was amazed at the vastness of the badlands surrounding the Black Hills. The sky was expansive, almost eternal, stretching far beyond my imagination. My beloved home state of Ohio, with no mountains, limited vistas, abundant trees – oak, maple, hemlock – combined with thick humidity - all seemed to reduce the distance of the horizons. It was all that my eyes, my mind, had known.

So, as I was caught up in the expanse of my sight line, I heard them coming. Still far away - but loud and majestic - flying in that famous “V” formation, was a flock of geese. I was caught within the magic of the moment, mesmerized by their song, their teamwork, their focus.

Geese, these marvelous migratory animals, tend to start their journey around sunset and fly all night and the next day. While traveling on a clear night, they use the stars as guides. While flying during the day, they navigate by the sun. When I first saw them they were heading toward the mountains, and I watched until they seemingly were swallowed up by the orange hues of a South Dakotan sky.

As I think back on that moment in my life journey, I sometimes am captured by a spiritual metaphor – “…people are often like the geese in flight…” Like these tenacious birds, it is important for us to keep our eyes on our Lord Jesus as we fly in faith. God is the one who can help us to navigate the unknown and uncertain territory that lies ahead.

The ideal conditions for goose travel include warm temperatures, starry skies and a steady wind at the back -- a tail wind. We, too, need to make use of the wind of the Holy Spirit if we're going to live as empowered children of God. Flying completely under our own power is going to get us nowhere fast.

Geese also know they need nourishment. When they land, they eat grass, seeds and small fish from a marsh or lake. If they land in a goose-friendly habitat, they'll feed, rest and wait for good flying weather. Let's follow their lead and nourish ourselves through worship, prayer, Bible study and rest. God knows that we need to be fed and renewed if we're going to be healthy and strong as the body of Christ. Geese help us in our ongoing process of discipleship. Sometimes we just need to watch, listen and learn.

“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

We are continuing on with our life journey - dealing with challenges, heart ache, hopes and dreams - day after day. For me, the journey has been exhilarating at times – humbling and discouraging at times. Maybe it has been like that for you, as well.

In the weeks and months ahead we all will have the opportunity to grow in our talents, skills, hopes and our dreams, our hearts and our souls, our treasures and our abilities - all to the glory of God. We will do this as a faithful and grateful response to God’s gracious activity in our lives. We will continue to grow as disciples - as a way of life and as a means of personal and spiritual growth. We cannot be afraid, for discipleship is about trust.

1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear…

Then, delivered from fear, it’s a matter of actually doing something. It’s doing what we are able to do. It’s like Ken Ruettsgers, former all pro tackle for the Green Bay Packers once said:

“I spend all day pushing around defenders, running sprints, studying plays and giving 100 percent, mental and emotional energies and skills to help the team get better. By the time the coaching staff lets us go, I’m running pretty much on empty. You may have been balancing a ledger, selling clothes, fixing computers, pumping gas or putting wheel covers on cars. It doesn’t matter. You’re just as whipped as I am when you’ve finally dragged yourself home. If my most important job lies ahead when I pull the car into the garage then I need to give my family the same effort I just gave the Packers. That’s what it takes to unleash the power God had given us to be great people of faith. This is a calling within our reach. We can do this.”

Perhaps all of God’s creatures know how to be empowered. It is just that we humans tend to forget from where we derive our power for living. That is why discipleship and living a life centered in Christ is so critical for us. And that is why this journey continues.

President Herbert Hoover once said, "Wisdom consists not so much in knowing what to do in the ultimate -- as in knowing what to do -- next." So, after all of this time studying and praying, what do we do next? We certainly know that we are called to a life of faith in action. One of the most difficult actions we take as disciples is walk the talk.

Eastern Washington reminds me just a little of western South Dakota - wide expanse of endless sky, vistas beyond the imagination, quiet peacefulness with a constant melody of singing birds. And, I see geese flying by at certain times of the year!!

Ah, the lessons of nature! When a goose falls out of formation it feels the resistance of flying alone and quickly gets back with the group. As one of my friends likes to say, "That will preach!" We do better when we are in company with those that are headed in the direction we want to go.

When the lead goose gets tired. another goose takes the point position. More life lessons - it pays to take turns doing hard tasks and sharing leadership!

The geese in formation honk to encourage the lead goose. Well, good folks of SpiritAndWord - BE SURE YOUR HONK IS HELPFUL! What incentive do folks have if all they receive is criticism - and never encouragement?

And finally, when a goose gets sick or wounded, two geese fall out of formation and follow it to the ground and protect it. They stay until their companion dies or is able to fly again - and then launch out to catch up with the flock. None of us need a sermon to translate this truth into our lives!!!

How, then, shall we live? Fly in formation!! Get lost in the wonder of the day, today. Love the Lord. Travel with the wind at your back. Celebrate the moment. Get help with adversity. Pray often. Love God and others. So simple, but never easy. God bless you!

Prayer: Dear Lord, help me in my faith journey. Strengthen me so that I can develop a deeper personal commitment to you. Help me grow in every area of my life so that I can know the joy of being an active disciple. Bless me, O Lord, as I enter a fresh and newly expanded journey of faith! Amen

The Good Book:

1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.[c]
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
8 Come and see what the Lord has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46: 1 - 10)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/fly-in-formation/ Tue, 07 May 2013 18:18:10 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/cycling-into-your-soul/ Mud Flat Musings "Cycling Into Your Soul"

She decided to celebrate her 50th birthday by bicycling by herself through Russia – and beyond. I never met...]]> Mud Flat Musings "Cycling Into Your Soul"

She decided to celebrate her 50th birthday by bicycling by herself through Russia – and beyond. I never met Marg, but someone gave me her book. (Cycling Into Your Soul – Marg Archibald) She described the heady thrill of approaching the unknown. After months of preparation it was finally time to ride. Marg got up early on that morning and cycled out of Jaroslavl, northeast of Moscow.

Marg observed, “It mattered to Russians that I liked Russia. They had a child-like eagerness to be seen in a good light.” They would all ask her what she thought of Russia. They would have hopeful, open faces. They loved their birch forests, their history, their old churches, their music. Marg said it best, “They loved the way Russia could be if only it weren’t the way it is.”

They grieved for Russia and ached for things to be better. Yet the Russians held on to the hope that a traveler would see some of the loveliness, would enjoy some of the people, would like the food, would hear the music, would admire the wasting architecture, would be dazzled by the awesome Hermitage art collection, would relish the late sunsets, the wild mushrooms - would be touched by the Russian's soul.

Early on in her travel Marg learned this Russian phrase, “Ya goste vashee-ay stran-ee-a.” That means, “I am a guest in your country.” When she said that, people would rise to the occasion. It turned them into host. Suddenly their job was to make Russia wonderful. Any ill intent that they might have had toward her was swept away by their responsibility. Mother Russia was counting on them. They couldn't stop themselves. Marg said she felt "armed" with that phrase. A friend at home mused wryly, “Most people would not consider that armed, Marg!”

I have often thought about her phrase, “I am a guest in your country.” The truth is, you and I are sojourners in this world. God created us and gave us the loving opportunity and responsibility to be stewards of the earth. We are caretakers of something that does not belong to us. And yet most of us go through life thinking that it is ours. We think the land, the house, the barn, the field – even the church - belong to us.

In our “worldly” thinking, we are correct. We have the deed to the property. It "belongs" to us. In the “other worldly” Jesus-centered understanding of life, we realize that God created everything - including us. In the eternal realm, we are foolish to think that anything belongs to us. We are guests in this world and that understanding changes everything.

I am particularly reminded of this great truth as I think of the Lord. Jesus was the one who changed the world by willingly walking toward the Cross - his death - out of unbelievable and unselfish love. Our Lord understood that this world belongs to God the Father.

When I woke up this morning, that phrase from bicyclist Marg kept whirling around in my mind, “I am a guest in your country.” Lord Jesus, I am a guest in your world. We all are, whether we acknowledge that or not. And yet the Psalmist writes of us “You made them rulers over the works of your hands… you put everything under their feet…”

Everything we have is a gift from God. And so now, in this holiest of all weeks, we come to understand in a deeper sense how powerfully freeing it is to be released of the responsibility of ownership. We are all guests in this world. As guests we come to realize that life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain. That same rain and the following sunshine – are both gifts from above.

Because of Jesus we have the opportunity to have life abundantly now, and forever life with God beyond the bonds of this earth. We will also be a guest there, in eternal glory with Jesus. But we will be guests who have received a personal invitation. “Welcome to my kingdom, Esther. Welcome to heaven, Howard. Welcome to everlasting life, Ruth.”

Jesus personally will say, “You have believed in me when you lived on the earth. You understood that you were merely guests in that earthly life. You read the Word of God and you believed that I am the Son of God. I am Jesus - Welcome – enjoy this gift of eternal life. Welcome, you are a guest in this eternal home.”

For now, we are stuck here in the mud! But remember - a beautiful flower begins its life in the dirt! A pastor friend of mine reminded me that Jesus used mud for healing: He answered, ‘The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me, “Go to Siloam and wash.” Then I went and washed and received my sight. John 9:11

As I think about the willing death march of Jesus, it occurs to me that the fear of death follows from the fear of life. Someone who lives freely, fully – without fear - is prepared to die at any time. Jesus was...

Saint Augustine said, “People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the seas, at the long course of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and yet they pass by themselves without wondering…”

Perhaps you and I should wonder for a while. Wonder, perhaps, as did folklorist and singer John Jacob Niles in 1933 when we attended a religious meeting in Appalachian North Carolina.

John later wrote, “A girl had stepped out to the edge of the little platform attached to the automobile. She began to sing. Her clothes were unbelievable dirty and ragged, and she, too, was unwashed. Her ash-blond hair hung down in long skeins.... But, best of all, she was beautiful, and in her untutored way, she could sing. She smiled as she sang, smiled rather sadly, and sang only a single line of a song…”

From those "wonderings" came a song, now a beloved Christmas carol – "I Wonder as I Wander" - but one that I think cuts to the heart of the matter:

I wonder, as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Saviour had come for to die;
For poor orn'ry creatures like you and like I.
I wonder as I wander out under the sky.

When Mary birthed Jesus, 'twas in a cow's stall,
With wisemen and shepherds and farmers and all.
And high in the heavens a star's light did fall;
'twas the promise of the ages, it then did recall.

If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing,
Like a star in the sky, or a bird on the wing.
Or all of God's angels in heav'n for to sing;
Well, he surely could have had them, for he was their king.

I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Saviour had come for to die;
For poor orn'ry creatures like you and like I.
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky.

I know that I am one who wonders as I wander. Maybe one of the reasons that I have been drawn to bicycle travel is because it truly does remind me that, wherever I am, I am a guest. Be it Louisiana, Montana, Nicaragua, Ecuador or Bolivia, I am there as a guest.

Even here,at my country church - I am a guest. For 110 years pastors have served there - only for a chapter. Each has come, in the name of Christ, to serve. I have been called there by the congregation – at this moment in time - to live out the gospel.It humbles me – to be a guest here.

But remember, SpiirAndWord readers - so are you, wherever you are.

This is God's world...

Prayer: Lord Jesus, in just two days you will be nailed to that cross. I have tried to understand how you must have felt. I have tried to get into your mind, feel your emotions, but I realize that my humanity sometimes gets in the way. Help me live the power of the song, “How Jesus the Savior did come for to die…” Thank you for dying for me, Lord. Because of you, I do not have to wonder where I will wander in eternity… Amen.

HAVE 3 MORE MINUTES?

Listen to Joan Baez sing: "I Wonder as I Wonder" on YouTube (With beautiful images in the background)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SvADhdoQ8n0

The Good Book:

10 Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
11 Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.
13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
so that sinners will turn back to you.
14 Deliver me from the guilt of bloodshed, O God,
you who are God my Savior,
and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.
15 Open my lips, Lord,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
16 You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
17 My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise. Psalm 51: 10 - 17]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/cycling-into-your-soul/ Mon, 06 May 2013 23:12:57 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/children-of-the-heavenly-father/ Mud Flat Musing: "Children of the Heavenly Father"

It is a beautiful spring day where I live in Eastern Washington - often called "Palouse Country."...]]> Mud Flat Musing: "Children of the Heavenly Father"

It is a beautiful spring day where I live in Eastern Washington - often called "Palouse Country." As my dad used to say, "I've seen nicer days, son, but I don't remember when!"

Generally I write my musings from my office in the south east corner of my house. I look out toward the east end of the church, from where I can see the lush green grass, willow, pine and spruce trees. On the other side of Church Hill Road there is a hillside which must be CRP land since I haven't seen any wheat growing over there since I've been here.

Yesterday I was working on my sermon, or writing an article for SpiritAndWord, and I went out to say hello to Bruce who still comes out here most days and tends to his trees. I like to tell my friends that I live in a 10 acre park, with 3 acres of irrigated grass and abundant trees. I include the hillside to the west where Bruce has been planting trees for over 20 years. It is perhaps the most peaceful place that I have ever lived and I have come to love the rhythm of the seasons.

I am now beginning my second year at this country church. It was May first last year when I rolled into town and started moving in to this beautiful house right next to the church. Everyone was excited to have me here and I prayed to God that my first "real sermon" here would be as good as my "interview sermon" back in March when everybody decided to call me as pastor here. (When leaders wanted me to drop the "Interim" title right away, I would like to say, "Better wait - what if I have only one good sermon!! " Since then they have heard about 47 sermons from me ~ mostly people stay awake!

Bruce was excited about something and asked me to hop into his Dodge pickup truck. Of course Scotty, the dog, was along so Bruce drove us around the side of the church and stopped right out by the intersection - only a couple hundred feet from the church.

He pulled off to the side of the road and we got out. I heard loud squawking. It was a female Meadowlark protecting her nest. About 10 feet off the side of the road, in an open rocky area, was a tiny little nest with barely any straw and grass and three beautiful eggs. Mom was trying to scare Bruce and me away but we certainly meant no harm. Bruce showed me this humble nest with child-like enthusiasm.

The song that came to my mind as I reflected on Bruce, 86, and the miracle of that moment was:

Children of the Heavenly Father
Safely in His bosom gather
Nestling bird nor star in heaven
Such a refuge e'er was given

Bruce and I both re-entered childhood, gazing at the soon to be hatched eggs. Mom Meadowlark was fluffing her wings and screeching as loud as she could. willing to give her life for the sake of her unborn. A light breeze was blowing out of the west and the warmth of the sun penetrated deep within our souls. It seemed that all was right with the world. No one else on earth would have ever found that tiny little nest of eggs. But Bruce, this "Child of the Heavenly Father," who spend so much time outside in the amazing creation of God, somehow found the nest.

We did not stay long, as mom was getting more shrill and excited. We drove back to the house and Bruce let me out. As I write this musing for today that nest is probably about 200 yards directly south of me. I can walk to it and probably will in a moment -just to see if maybe the eggs have hatched.

That experience reminded me of those tiny miracles of life that so often we pass by - the breathless peacefulness of an early-morning sunrise or the distant sound of a tractor out in the field. Even out here in the country people can be very busy and can easily miss those precious moments of life.

God His own doth tend and nourish
In His holy courts they flourish
From all evil things He spares them
In His mighty arms He bears them

Lina Sandell (Karolina Wilhelmina Sandell-Berg - October 3, 1832 – July 27, 1903) wrote the hymn "Children of the Heavenly Father." She was a Swedish writer of Gospel hymns. At the age of 26, she went with her father Jonas Sandell, a Lutheran pastor, on a boat trip across Lake Vättern to Göteborg, during which he fell overboard and drowned before her eyes. This tragedy deeply affected Lina, inspiring her to write hymns. She poured out her broken heart in an endless stream of beautiful songs.

It was in the midst of the Rosenius movement that Lina Sandell became known to her countrymen as a great songwriter. Rosenius and Ahnfelt encountered much persecution in their evangelical efforts. King Karl XV was petitioned to forbid Ahnfelt’s preaching and singing. The monarch refused until he had an opportunity to hear the “spiritual troubadour.”

Ahnfelt was commanded to appear at the royal palace. Being considerably perturbed in mind as to what he should sing to the king, he besought Lina Sandell to write a hymn for the occasion. She was equal to the task and within a few days the song was ready. With his guitar under his arm and the hymn in his pocket, Ahnfelt went to the palace and sang:

Who is it that knocketh upon your heart’s door In peaceful eve?
Who is it that brings to the wounded and sore The balm that can heal and relieve?
Your heart is still restless, it findeth no peace In earth’s pleasures;
Your soul is still yearning, it seeketh release To rise to the heavenly treasures.

The king listened with tears in his eyes. When Ahnfelt had finished, the monarch gripped him by the hand and exclaimed: “You may sing as much as you like in both of my kingdoms!”

When I was a child I remember thinking that some of the great hymns of the church seemed almost too idyllic and perhaps a little bit out of touch with reality. But so many hymns came out of tragedy and pain - much like the story of Lina Sandell.

In order to sing about the Children of the Heavenly Father it seems that the author must have looked on the other side of life ~ looked upon the greatest evil face-to-face ~ and found God to be more powerful than any ugliness that could be found on this Earth.

It reminds me of Romans 8: 37 - 38:

37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Both Scripture and song share a common message.

Neither life nor death shall ever
From the Lord His children sever
Unto them His grace He showeth
And their sorrows all He knoweth

All of which takes me back to Bruce and to our discovery of the Meadowlark nest yesterday. Ah, the buoyant, flute-like melody of the Western Meadowlark ringing out across a field can brighten anyone’s day!! I have learned that Meadowlarks are often more easily heard than seen, unless we might spot a male singing from a fence post. I read that this colorful member of the blackbird family sport a vibrant yellow breast crossed by a distinctive, black, V-shaped band.

Those of us who live here in the country can listen for and occasionally see these stout ground feeders in grasslands, meadows, pastures, and along marsh edges where flocks strut and feed on seeds and insects.

It is springtime here in the Northwest and there is growth all around us. Just as the seasons of the church year take us through the life and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, the journey of life here on this Earth takes us around and around from one year to the next.

Just yesterday I talked to a friend of mine, about my age, as he was deliberating about taking a part-time job or having more time to be with family or to travel. He really got my attention when he said, "John, we just don't know how many Springs we are going to get to enjoy. I don't want to miss one of them."

Though He giveth or He taketh
God His children ne'er forsaketh
His the loving purpose solely
To preserve them pure and holy

Life comes and goes; each day a gift. The loving purpose of the Lord knits all things together.

The explorer Meriwether Lewis was the first to point out the subtle differences between the birds that would eventually be known as the Eastern and Western Meadowlarks, noting in June 1805 that the tail and bill shapes as well as the song of the Western Meadowlark differed from what was then known as the “oldfield lark” in the Eastern United States.

If intrepid explorers can find time to discover subtle differences in the Meadowlark, perhaps you and I might find a way to see the small miracles of life every day. God is all around us. The smile of the newborn baby or the steady growth of wheat; the firm handshake of two brothers or and embrace of longtime friends; the privilege to gather at worship where even old hymns refresh us in brand-new ways.

Such is the journey of life. None of us knows just how many more moments we might have to embrace the joy of each moment.

Prayer: Dear Jesus, help me see that I am a Child of the Heavenly Father and that, like nestling birds or stars in heaven, you will never forsake me. Help me see your love in each moment. Amen.

Song for today - "Children of the Heavenly Father"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfDcxZ5iwME

The Good Book:

"And God said, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky.” (Genesis 1: 20)

1 "O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is thy name in all the earth!
Thou whose glory above the heavens is chanted
2 by the mouth of babes and infants,
thou hast founded a bulwark because of thy foes,
to still the enemy and the avenger.
3 When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers,
the moon and the stars which thou hast established;
4 what is man that thou art mindful of him,
and the son of man that thou dost care for him?
5 Yet thou hast made him little less than God,
and dost crown him with glory and honor.
6 Thou hast given him dominion over the works of thy hands;
thou hast put all things under his feet,
7 all sheep and oxen,
and also the beasts of the field,
8 the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the sea.
9 O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is thy name in all the earth! (Psalm 8)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/children-of-the-heavenly-father/ Sun, 05 May 2013 01:59:00 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/lost-and-found/ Mud Flat Musing: "Lost and Found"

I woke at 4:30 AM to the sound of steady rain dancing off my MSR Hubba Hubba tent. I was deep within the Lochsa Va...]]> Mud Flat Musing: "Lost and Found"

I woke at 4:30 AM to the sound of steady rain dancing off my MSR Hubba Hubba tent. I was deep within the Lochsa Valley in Idaho, having pedaled uphill river grade for much of the last few days. I knew that long time friend Jeff Stoopes would be waiting for me at the top of Lolo Pass at 4 PM as per our plan from a week earlier. I had been out of telephone contact for 48 hours so I needed to be there. Almost 90 miles and 3,200 feet in elevation separated me from my goal.

My body ached from the recent grueling climbs, including menacing infamous White Bird, a relentless Idaho ascent. In 1976 Jeff, then a leader of one of the “BikeCentenntial” groups to cross the entire nation, had cycled up White Bird twice – once on the old highway and then again on Highway 95, a treeless northbound grade that climbs 2,700 vertical feet in 7 miles. He humbly commented that he needed to go back to make sure the slower bikers were making the climb – including 67-year old Bob who walked many of the mountains.

Jeff was one of the strongest riders of the 4,000 who attempted the 4,400 mile Oregon to Virginia extravaganza that summer of our nation’s 200th birthday. White Bird Hill Summit marks the divide between the Salmon River and the Camas Prairie. The Battle of White Bird Canyon of the Nez Perce War occurred in the valley south of the summit in 1877. Chief White Bird was a respected leader of the Nez Perce tribe.

I knew this was a challenge that I needed – and so wanted - to meet. Larry, who was battling leukemia, still in remission, was also bicycling across the country. He had invited me to pitch my tent near his, under the canopy of a towering Ponderosa. As we contemplated cooking some food, the friendliest woman I had ever met walked through the evening campsite fog the night before to offer us hamburgers and fresh apple pie. Her smile was like an angel.

But the predawn morning was heavy with low hanging clouds hovering just above the Lochsa River and a damp darkness might have brought my spirits low, had I not been recharged with unexpected hospitality from a new friend battling a life threatening disease and a lady – from out of nowhere – offering her random act of kindness by bringing culinary delights to a rained soaked picnic table. Cyclists understand the deep down inner strength that surfaces for such a time as this.

Indeed, the day turned out to be just as mystical and magical as it was grueling and difficult. The dawn had a dulled brilliance from light refracting off of low picture perfect clouds and rain drops glistening through some of the most beautiful country anywhere.

I did make it to the top of Lolo Pass – 5 minutes to spare - to the surprise and gratitude of my friend, and we finished our ride down into Missoula just before dark, making it 127 miles for me. I could have been 100 other places, following my career of helping churches raise funds for mission, preaching a sermon, visiting family and friends - but there I was in a lonely and beautiful part of the world challenging my 61-year-old body in wonderful ways.

Truth? There was nowhere else in the world that I would rather have been at that moment. Like the haunting melody of the Joni Mitchell’s song that I knew as a college student, “But now old friends are acting strange they shake their heads, they say I've changed…Well something's lost, but something's gained in living every day.”

We cannot have it all. But we can live every day and that is my fervent dream. Believers around the world recently experienced Christmas and Easter one more time and for many it has been a difficult time. Unemployment is still near 8% in the United States and many people have lost their way. Tom Brokaw, trusted veteran journalist, recently commented:

“I've been reading a book about the Christmas of 1941, which is right after Pearl Harbor and what was going on at the White House. Winston Churchill had come here, and you talk about problems, you talk about a challenge? The world was at war. Hitler had eaten up most of Europe at that point. The Japanese were amok in the Pacific. We didn't have a military that was prepared, really, for the consequences of that. But we survived…”

As I battled the most grueling climbs in the Sierra and Rocky Mountains, I knew that what I was doing was of little note in comparison to the great challenges in the world. But I was following a course which had called out to me, and somehow as I pedaled, every hill and valley became a metaphor of life.

And Joni Mitchell kept haunting me, “Something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day.”

Many people took an interest in my venture, traveling across the country two times in less than a year. (Southern Tier and TransAmerica, routes developed by the good folks at www.adventurecycling.org ) As I wrote about the simplicity of my life and the unique challenges that I was having, I began to sense that the people who wrote me and urged me to "keep on pedaling" were really offering a prayer for themselves. Keep working. Keep growing the love in our marriage. Keep dealing with this difficult health situation. Keep building the business. Keep hanging on because life seems pretty awful these days.

I lived within the boundless universe of stories - hundreds of them offering hope as I cycled through 22 states. I also picked up a sense of realism about the world and this coming generation.

It reminded me of what Tom Brokaw said, “And, in my book, I write about something that I had not heard in the 50 years that I've been a journalist, and that would be parents and grandparents coming up to me and saying, ‘I don't think my children are going to have the lives that I've had.’ I've just never heard that before because that goes right to the heart of the American dream. And what I try to do is recalibrate the answer to that and say it's always been a quantitative answer, will they make more money, will they have a bigger house, will they have more toys, more cars. We've learned there's a price for that, and there's a finite capacity. What we're not hearing in this debate, I think, is a recalibration about more economic justice, for example.”

"Well something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day…"

I finished the second crossing of America in August 2011. For the most part I traveled alone and got to see the country up close and personal. Tom Brokaw is right - people are adjusting their dreams and their hopes and their priorities. In a variety of ways I heard people says things like “Maybe my children are not going to have the bigger better life, but maybe they will go deeper, looking within their souls….”

Over time I will do more pedaling by bicycle - living simply, sleeping on the ground, dealing with the uncertainties of traffic zooming by every day, not knowing where I might sleep each night.

The loss? Comfort, security, financial security…

The gain? All of this brought me to the core of life and took me to a new level of understanding.

I appreciate every little thing – like the unexpected kindness of the stranger who gains nothing by helping me. And along the way I am privileged to pass on some of the extravagant grace that is the earmark of any true faith – certainly mine.

“I’ve looked at clouds that way…
But now they only block the sun,
they rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done,
but clouds got in the way.
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
Its cloud’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all…”

Come on folks. May is a month to build momentum for the summer ahead. Don't let the clouds get in your way. Take a look from both sides and take a chance on a new road this year. There are so many people and so many fears that stop us in our tracks.

But isn't this the time to look at things from a different perspective? We live in a country that has made a history of overcoming obstacles.

It is like Tom Freeman, famous author, said recently: “…the question before us should be “… is it aspirational? I’m a Fourth of July guy. I think the country's a Fourth of July country. They're ready to sacrifice, but to make the country great again, not just to balance the budget…”

I am a man of faith and upon that foundation I build my life. I am not sure what your challenge or opportunity might be in the near future. But whatever you do, live life fully until you die.

Yes it is true, “…something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day…” But we will not truly lose or gain, if we don’t get up, and live.

Prayer: Jesus, you spoke such difficult words: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me..." Help me to somehow comprehend your truth: "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it." Help me see both sides, the losing and the saving of life. Amen

Today's Fabulous Music:

Joni Mitchell singing live in 1970: "Both Sides Now"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcrEqIpi6sg

The Good Book:

23 Then he said to them all, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. 24 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it. 25 What does it profit them if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves? (Luke 9: 23 - 25)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/lost-and-found/ Fri, 03 May 2013 06:31:57 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/self-define-keep-in-touch/ Mud Flat Musing: “Self-Define and Keep in Touch”

My recent "Hearing Without Listening" musing was about the lessons I learned traveling through Louis...]]> Mud Flat Musing: “Self-Define and Keep in Touch”

My recent "Hearing Without Listening" musing was about the lessons I learned traveling through Louisiana. The narrative ended with as I was bicycling after dark on a quiet and remote country road.

I was about two hours into my night ride when I came upon the little store. It was about 8:40 PM. When I got close I saw that the store had closed at 8 PM. I was hungry but did have one granola bar and an apple. That would easily get me through the night.

So I rode for about a half mile and saw a little park off to the left. I crossed over the creek and within the depths of the wooded area saw a double wide trailer. A young man, having seen my lights, came out. He said, "You're welcome to sleep over there by the picnic table. There is a shower that sometimes works. Mom usually charges $15. Would that be all right?" I was hoping for a "freebie," but handed him a 10 and a 5 and thanked him.

Of course my eyes were focused on my bed for the night - that wooden picnic table! Those of you who are "Musing Veterans" remember that I spent over 60 nights on picnic tables throughout my entire expedition. Something about the top of the picnic table helped me fall asleep. Yes, I know...Mud Flat Preacher is just a little weird. (I have mused before about how my 20-year old son, Keaton, explains the essence of his Dad. "My Padre and I have a strange and wonderful relationship - HE'S strange...and I'm wonderful!! I can't really argue with that!)

The shower did work - a trickle of cold water on a 48 degree evening! I was thankful.

When I finished, there was a stream of cars that pulled into the park, stopping about 100 yards away down by the creek. There must have been 15 or 20 teenagers there, very loud and having a great time. Their language was salty, riddled with a heavy local drawl - not fitting for our opening litany here at church! But I figured they were good kids, just out for a fun time.

I was ready to crawl into my sleeping bag but decided that I better let them know that I was there. One of my tried and true sayings popped into my mind, "Self define...and keep in touch." I knew that it would be best if they understood my intentions.

So I walked toward the throng of teenagers, flashlight in hand so they could see I was coming. Rap music was blaring out of one of the cars that had both doors open. I figured they were friendly, but I must admit I had a flashback from my own youth when I watched Sheriff Matt Dillon, peacemaker of Gunsmoke's Dodge City for 20 years, who often would walk, all by himself, into a crowd of unruly cowboys in the Long Branch Saloon. He always settled things down - and ended up talking about it later with Miss Kitty, Doc, Chester (and after year 12, Festus).

Of course I had no gun, and no intention of settling down anyone or anything. I just wanted to let them know what was on my mind.

All at once they saw me and the voices stopped while the music played. I was wearing my all wool plaid Pendleton shirt, jeans and my jacket. They were decked out in the latest teenage fashions - baggy clothes that were bright and wild. I never have figured out the low-riding jeans for guys that must cause every mother who passes by to say, in their minds, "Pull them up before they drop to your knees!!"

None of that was a concern for me. I knew the moment was mine, so, unlike Matt Dillon, I smiled with a small town exuberance that only my friend Denny Wiegman has perfected, and "self defined:"

"Hi! I am traveling across the country by bicycle and am going to sleep up there on that picnic table. I just wanted you to know that I love to hear your music and your laughter. The louder, the better! I didn't want you to worry that you were keeping me awake. I pedaled about 85 miles today and freight trains and thunderstorms couldn't keep me awake. Love that music - have fun!"

And I turned to walk away. There was a stunned silence, but then one of the biggest guys walked over to me, gave me a "high-five" and said, "All right,dude! You are cool!"

That was my acceptance speech.

One of the girls came up gave me a hug. They asked me to join them and, I considered that, but thought of a "Cedar County Saying" of long time friend James Munter, "John, the preacher needs to know when it's time to leave the party!" In this case, that was before it began!!

I gave them one more "Wiegman Pemberville" smile and said "Party on - keep the music blaring! I'm going to sleep now."

I walked back to the picnic table, knowing that they had my back.

I self defined - I kept in touch. Now I could go to my agenda - sleep!

I remember hearing the music for maybe a minute or two. When I woke up in the morning they were long gone.

The biblical story for today is a classic example of Jesus teaching us this life lesson. In the gospel of Mark things happened quickly. Each of the gospel writers brought a slightly different perspective to the truth of the biblical story. In Mark we learn about John the Baptist, the baptism of Jesus, the temptation of Jesus, the calling of the first disciples, the healing of the man with an unclean spirit and the healing of many at Simon's house - ALL in the first 32 verses of chapter 1!

Reading Mark is like an action story that begins with a chase scene! All of a sudden we are trying to catch our breath.

But in verse 35 we get our first break in the action. Jesus needed time away. I love how all of this fits together, because so many of us feel absolutely stuck within the craziness of our lives. While I cannot comment on any one else's schedule, I can look at my own and realize that there is a truth that sometimes I do not see.

Self define and keep in touch.

When Jesus had been with the crowds he healed the sick with various diseases and cast out many demons. But remember, he did not heal everyone. There were still people clamoring for him. He needed to get away and he did.

I may never experience the classic retirement life. I am working as a pastor again and writing most every day - certainly not on the edge of retirement! Here is the key for me: I love what I do. I took over a year to "self define" during my bicycle trip. Three priorities rose to the top:

1) I wanted to stay involved in ministry without the hectic pace.

2) I needed a home base.

3) I felt called to write.

At my little congregation and through SpiritAndWord my "top three" have been met. But if I had not defined myself and had not stayed "in touch," I would not be here. I looked on a web site for possible positions. I talked with my friends and asked for their advice.

I know many people who retire jokingly say, "I don't know how I ever had time to work!" While I admire people who continue serving their community, help with the grand kids and extended family, and continue with many other activities, I also know that some retired people get overwhelmed. They do not self define. They do not set boundaries. At work there were limits - a beginning and an end.

But when we allow our children, grandchildren, friends, neighbors and everyone else to define who we are and what we should do, we can lose ourselves. Although everything that we are doing might be worthy, if it is so much that we are not able to do as Jesus did - get up in the morning, go to a deserted place and pray - then something is out of harmony.

Self define and keep in touch. I think it is one of the most difficult things that we can do. Thankfully we can look to Jesus and see how he lived and then try to apply it in some way for our own lives.

When Jesus came back from the time of prayer he met the disciples who were hectic and almost frantic. "Everyone is searching for you!" Why were people searching for Jesus? They wanted to be healed. They needed a demon cast out. They had heard the stories and they wanted a miracle in their lives as well. And so here they came.

But Jesus had a surprising answer. He said, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came to do." That is classic "self definition."

The application is clear. People are clamoring for us. Folks want to define our lives - even our own children and loved ones. Jesus certainly did not ignore those people, and he healed many. But there were other things that he knew God had called him to do. In this case, it was to go to Galilee and preach the gospel!

It is like a minister who gets overwhelmed with the swarms of meetings and committees and important functions in the church. I have known so many pastors who complain that they do not have time to really prepare for a sermon, or to relax and get away. I know what it is like. I'm not saying it is anything other than incredibly difficult to do.

But Jesus did it. And, as for me and my life, I am going to continue my self-definition as long as I have breath. I believe that in my prayer time I get direction from the Lord. My most recent version of Jesus going up to the mountain was my bicycle trip. I take seriously the lessons that I learned while I was there. Applying those lessons is the difficult part.

I slept like a baby on that picnic table and the peace and quiet of that little park in Louisiana was almost overwhelming at eight o'clock in the morning. I looked down where the teenagers had been having a good time and prayed that all of them got home safely. I knew the little store would be open so I backtracked for half a mile so I could get some coffee and some food for the day.

On my way to the store I met another bicyclist coming my way. That is how I met my buddy "Dreadlocks" who traveled with me for 7 days. I have mused about him before and will again.

Prayer: Dear Jesus,you loved the people. You healed the people. But you knew that your earthly body had limits. You went off to pray. You received guidance for your life. You self defined and you kept in touch. Thank you Jesus. Amen

The Good Book:

35 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36 And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37 When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38 He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39 And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons. (Mark 1: 35 – 39)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/self-define-keep-in-touch/ Thu, 02 May 2013 18:46:05 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/hearing-without-listening-2/ Mud Flat Musing: "Hearing Without Listening"

It was pitch dark and I had been bicycling all day. I was deep in the southern part of Louisiana and had...]]> Mud Flat Musing: "Hearing Without Listening"

It was pitch dark and I had been bicycling all day. I was deep in the southern part of Louisiana and had been warmly welcomed into this new cultural setting - probably more than anywhere else on the entire trip. By this time I had completed 80% of my first crossing of America, using the Southern Tier route from Adventure Cycling Association.

I can't remember anymore why I was still on my bike so late on this very rural, narrow, peaceful, quiet road ~ but there I was in hopes to get to a tiny little store that was about 12 or 13 miles away. About every 5 or 10 minutes a car would come up from behind and, as its lights illuminated my bright yellow green jacket, I moved far to the right in hopes that all of my reflective gear and my flashing red light on my helmet would bring attention to this bicyclist pedaling along on a lonely Louisiana Highway.

An hour earlier, just as the sun was nestling into the orange and red hues of the western horizon, I had passed deep green pastures where contented cows grazed from the bounty of the spring growth that was everywhere abundant. About every mile or so there was a large southern style house, usually within 50 feet of the road, most often with three or four family members out on sprawling porches, enjoying the last hours minutes of daylight.

There were not many Norwegians, Swedes or Germans in this part of the country!! I had not seen anyone with blond hair and fair skin for a few days. It was an all-black community - hard-working, industrious folks who I imagined had lived here for generations. I had the feeling that they took special care of me ~ the "older white guy on a bicycle" traveling through their land.

When I talked to folks at small country stores I carefully listened to stories of farming and the simple rural life. I could tell how the pride swelled up within them as they talked about their crops, their cattle, their customs and their belief in God. Just the way people would look at me I knew that they knew – I was a “brother” in the Lord, a fellow sojourner in a new land, a man for whom Jesus died.

They knew that I knew – that they were good folks, close to the earth, humble before the Lord, close-knit as families.

And I knew that they knew – that I admired their work, their world, their walk, their wonder at the grace of Jesus that took them through every valley and mountain top.

When I was a teenager the song, “Sounds of Silence,” was popular. In one of the stanzas these word echoed:

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

All these years later I do not want to be among those who hear without listening. I have always felt another human being deserves honest eye to eye focus. Sometimes that takes some effort ~ but God's children are worth it.

12 But Moses spoke to the Lord, “The Israelites have not listened to me; how then shall Pharaoh listen to me, poor speaker that I am?” (Exodus 6:12)

An 80-year-old grandfather went to his daughter’s house for Sunday dinner. When the meal was over, he announced that he was going to take a walk through the neighborhood. "I’ll be back in twenty minutes," he said. But two hours had passed before he finally returned.

"Sorry I’m late," he said. "But I stopped to talk to an old friend and he just wouldn’t stop listening."

Listening is one of the greatest gifts we can give a friend…a loved one…a stranger. When was the last time someone sat down with you and gave you the gift of absolute “presence?” Even when visiting an elderly family member or friend, just sitting there means more than we might ever know. Listening to her breathing, his pain, her gentle movements, his laughter…

7 For he is our God,
and we are the people of his pasture,
and the sheep of his hand.

O that today you would listen to his voice! (Psalm 95:7)

An excited little boy was telling his daddy about something that had happened to him that day. His daddy said, "Slow up, honey, you are talking too fast!" His boy shot back at him, "Oh, no, Daddy, I’m not talking too fast. You’re just listening too slow!"

My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry." James 1:19

The story is told that when Napoleon was making plans to invade England, he was told that an American wanted to see him. "I can give him two minutes," Napoleon said. But two minutes was not long enough to understand the revolutionary idea of a ship propelled by steam. Had Napoleon listened longer to Robert Fulton the history of the world might have been altered.

"Pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly..." Colossians 4:3-4

Senator Mark Hatfield tells of touring Calcutta with Mother Teresa and visiting the so-called "House of Dying," where sick children were cared for in their last days, where the poor line up by the hundreds to receive medical attention. Watching Mother Teresa minister to these people, feeding and nursing those left by others to die, Hatfield was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the suffering she and her co-workers faced daily.

"How can you bear the load without being crushed by it?" he asked. Mother Teresa replied, "My dear Senator, I am not called to be successful, I am called to be faithful."

The shallow-hearted listener will not remain faithful. When the going gets tough, he/she gets going in the wrong direction.

5 While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” (Matthew 17: 5)

I am not sure of the meaning of Sounds of Silence. I do not always comprehend the mysteries of Scripture. But I do know that human to human connection is sacred, and the act of loving listening is the conduit that links two souls on earth, and surely in heaven.

I meandered through Southern Louisiana by bicycle ~ watching and listening, admiring and asking, telling and hearing stories of life with people whose roots were very different from mine. They took care of me – I felt it every moment of every day. They talked about me, I know – because some folks knew about me before I ever arrived at the tiny café, at the folksy campground. I never felt safer – anywhere.

All I did was listen carefully ~ hear their words, take time to appreciate and affirm.

Prayer: Dear Jesus, you walk with me day and night, through rain and shine. Lord, help me listen to the people I meet the way you listened to the leper, to the woman at the well, to the thief on the cross. Jesus, Master, let me walk with thee. Amen.

The Good Book:

10 I am the Lord your God,
who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.
Open your mouth wide and I will fill it.

11 “But my people did not listen to my voice;
Israel would not submit to me.
12 So I gave them over to their stubborn hearts,
to follow their own counsels.
13 O that my people would listen to me,
that Israel would walk in my ways!
14 Then I would quickly subdue their enemies,
and turn my hand against their foes.
15 Those who hate the Lord would cringe before him,
and their doom would last forever.
16 I would feed you with the finest of the wheat,
and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.”
Psalm 81: 10 - 14]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/hearing-without-listening-2/ Thu, 02 May 2013 00:55:29 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/smiling-as-mouth-yoga/ From spiritualityandpractice

How we marvel at the delightful smile of an infant; there's little we won't do to win another one! A...]]> From spiritualityandpractice

How we marvel at the delightful smile of an infant; there's little we won't do to win another one! As we grow older the act of smiling changes into a complex nonverbal interchange; a smile is part of our body's expressive equipment. There are all kinds of smiles from the buoyant one of a contented and centered person to the frozen one of a television newsperson to the decorous one of a socialite at a party to the sublime smiles on the death masks of saints.

Spiritual writer Edward Hays observes that "a smile is a facial message of friendliness, delight, satisfaction, and amusement." It is a positive expression of the life force within us and an antidote to physical and mental exhaustion. The ancient wisdom tradition of Taoism lauds "the inner smile" and challenges us to use it to repair and rejuvenate our stressed out bodies and minds.




I can't count the number of times that someone restored me with a bright and healing smile. One of the most enthusiastic teachers of the spiritual practice of smiling is the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh. He calls it "mouth yoga." I have used this vow first thing in the morning and found it got my day off to a very good start:

"Waking up this morning, I smile.
Twenty four new hours are before me.
I vow to live fully in each moment."

Waking up with a smile on my face is something I aspire to do as I grow older. A few years back, Mary Ann and I had our picture taken for the page about us. The photographer, a neighbor, usually does the portraits actors use in their "books." She had quite a few tricks to getting a natural and spontaneous look. As was her custom, she took several rolls of us from different angles. When we got the contact sheets back, Mary Ann had many different expressions throughout the shoot, including some that didn't look like her at all! But all my pictures were pretty much the same. There I sat with my small Buddha smile — the fruit of all those years of equanimity practice.

Thich Nhat Hanh puts it succinctly: "Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy." I think of that when I pass smiling people on the streets of New York; their radiance makes me feel like I'm in the presence of angels. And I smile back at them with my Buddha half-smile, hoping that they can see my joy in return.]]> http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/smiling-as-mouth-yoga/ Tue, 30 Apr 2013 20:29:15 +0000 Charlie Van Dyke http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/a-surprising-god/ "A Surprising God" - by Denny Wiegman

My Dad, Howard Wiegman, took up golf in his late 50's -- never had a lesson. One of the reasons he took it up ...]]> "A Surprising God" - by Denny Wiegman

My Dad, Howard Wiegman, took up golf in his late 50's -- never had a lesson. One of the reasons he took it up is my father-in-law, Lloyd Mervine, had encouraged him to do so. My brother died in 1975 of accidental electrocution at swimming pool at a church camp. Sometime after the funeral, Lloyd gave Howard his old clubs and said: "Here, Howard, you take these, you are going to need something to occupy your mind."

My Dad never told me that story until after Lloyd died on March 22nd, 2010 and teared up when he did. He said he missed Lloyd. Lloyd and my Dad had fought the good fight over the last years of their lives….taking care of wives with declining health until their own health failed. They had spent a lot of time together at family events and got to golf more than a few rounds with each other.

The last time they golfed was 2006, just prior to Joel’s wedding. Joel knew the opportunity to golf with his grandfathers was getting shorter with each passing year. So he arranged a golf outing prior to his wedding. Joel, his brother Bret, and Lloyd, and Howard were a foursome. On one of the first holes, Lloyd and my Dad (both in their 80’s) beat their grandsons. As they walked off the hole, Lloyd said, “What’s next rookies?”

My Dad died 11 days after Lloyd on Good Friday, April 2. It happened to be my Mom and Dad's 62nd wedding anniversary. (I kidded my Mom that he just didn’t want to commit to another year of marriage.)

That Easter I worshipped without my family at Bethlehem Lutheran in Pemberville, Ohio. My family had all been out to Chicago to Lloyd’s funeral service on Saturday. My wife, Bege, flew back to lead worship in Plymouth, Ohio. My sons had worship commitments of their own. So on Easter, I was sitting without my family and listening to the announcement of my Dad's funeral arrangements.

It didn’t feel odd. It felt like the right place to be. This was the church of my grandparents, my parents, my brother and me. Our family worshipped there many times when we came back to Pemberville to visit. I still knew many of the people in the congregation. I felt the reality of being in the midst the company of saints for an Easter Celebration. I felt the presence of my family knowing they were celebrating the Resurrection of our Lord on the same morning. I felt the presence of Lloyd, my Dad, my brother, and my son Luke who died in 1994.

I cried a lot that service. Particularly when I sang a hymn. Both Lloyd and my dad loved to belt out the hymns. I could vividly remember my father's voice as I sang. It was a service of celebration I will never forget.

Back to the golf. Dad played about 3 or 4 times a week, walking, often by himself – he rarely took a cart. He did this for close to 30 years after his retirement from the Auto Glass Factory in Toledo. He even helped give lessons to the kids’ camps at Hidden Hills Golf course. I said he helped ruin a whole generation of young golfers’ swings.

The thing is this: he practiced and practiced to improve and learn golf for 30 years...and I am thinking….for what purpose...what possibly could a layman's golf game have to do with the Kingdom of God?

After Luke died in 1994, my dad inherited Luke's size 9 golf shoes...he wore them with pride. Many, many years later, just a few years before he died, he literally walked the soles off those shoes, after he had glued them together many times. Bret and I were with him the day he walked out of those shoes. It left quite an impression on Bret. He was moved by my Dad’s love for his grandsons.

The Tuesday after Easter was my Dad's funeral. The sermon text for the Sunday after Easter was the Walk to Emmaus. Each of our sons and their wives read a Bible text that day. Bret read the Emmaus text so beautifully. "Did not our hearts burn inside us as we walked and talked with him?"

Pastor Matt Musteric’s theme was about Howard's walk with Jesus... walking and golfing as he grieved his son Randy and grandson Luke, walking right out of Luke's shoes, and walking to the end of his earthly life and passing on into a new life in Christ.

Someone once said, “If you want to feel close to God, go take a walk." I think there is a lot of truth in that. Sometimes it is good to walk just for the sake of walking -- not for exercise or to get somewhere.

But walking isn’t always easy. For some folks it is impossible.

So my prayer is this: no matter how we move through life, may we occasionally sense Jesus’ presence in the breaking of the bread….or in a hymn….or in a sunset….or a quiet prayer…or in a round of golf. After all, He is in the business of surprising us – like on the way to Emmaus that Easter Day.

Moving Music for a Today:

"Your Hands" by JJ Heller

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4l3CEMWCxSk

The Good Book:

The setting is Easter Day. Two of Jesus followers are walking to Emmaus when a stranger joins them:

They came to the edge of the village where they were headed. He (the stranger) acted as if he were going on but they pressed him: “Stay and have supper with us. It’s nearly evening and the day is done.”

So he went in with them. And here is what happened: He sat down at the table with them. Taking the bread, he blessed and broke and gave it to them. At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they recognized him. And then he disappeared.

Back and forth they talked. “Didn’t we feel on fire as he conversed with us on the road, as he opened up the Scriptures for us?” Luke 24: 28-32 (The Message Translation)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/a-surprising-god/ Mon, 29 Apr 2013 04:04:09 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/lost-before-i-started/ Mud Flat Musings: "Lost"

We lost Peter in Central America for about three days. It was February 1975 and the four "Pedal for People" cyclists (Peter...]]> Mud Flat Musings: "Lost"

We lost Peter in Central America for about three days. It was February 1975 and the four "Pedal for People" cyclists (Peter Crane, Jim Oines, Jeff Stopes, John Cross) were somewhere in the country of El Salvador, in the city of San Salvador. Jim had a flat tire and I was the first one to come up to him, so I stopped to help. It was a busy city street and we got up on the sidewalk. Jeff was ahead of us and Peter was behind.

After the tire repair, which took a veteran bicycle mechanic like Jim only 6 or 7 minutes to accomplish, we headed south, deeper into the "El Centro" area. We wondered why Peter had not passed us, but figured maybe he had - but we simply did not notice him in the congestion of the city. In about a mile we came upon Jeff who had pulled off to the side of the road. So the three of us were together. But where was Peter?

We waited for maybe 30 minutes, but then thought he must be ahead, so we bicycled through town - filled with old buses, crazy taxi drivers, wild and unpredictable motorcylists and a variety of donkey drawn carts, old women with canes and teenagers crisscrossing the streets randomly. We got 5 or 10 miles outside of town as nightfall was coming. We waited a little longer and then thought we'd better put into action our "what we do if we get lost" plan for the pedalers - go to the next largest town and wait at the post office.

So we went back after dark and found the Post Office in downtown San Salvador, not a particularly nice neighborhood at night. Some ladies of the night thought sure we were candidates for their wiles, but that temptation never worked on us. Beggars asked for handouts and the police stopped to offer us some help.

We waited until about 11:00 PM but figured that Peter must have pressed on and was staying somewhere else. We spent the night in a four-dollar motel (literally!) and got back to the Post Office early in the morning and waited till about noon. We were officially worried by then. Peter was gone. Lost.

Somewhere late that afternoon we discovered that there was another large Post Office in San Salvador so we went over there, expecting to find Peter. But he was no where to be found. We talked to the police again, but they were not optimistic. We spent another night at the hole-in-the-wall motel, and were fast running out of ideas on how we were going to find Peter.

It was 1975 - no cell phones, and no other plan other than the "meet at the Post Office" one. When we crossed the border in Laredo, Texas back in November, we had 7 addresses of missionaries throughout Mexico, Central and South America. Finally we called ahead to the next country, Nicaragua, with the prayerful hope that Peter had kept on riding.

He had. There was Peter about 160 miles south of us - and not a happy camper! He could not imagine how and why we left him in the middle of San Salvador! We were just glad that he was safe and we took off on our bikes, meeting him a day and a half later at the missionary's home. We spent several days visiting and learned about some of the mission work in that area.

In my meanderings through life, I have felt lost more than once, and have met many others who were traveling aimlessly. As I was trying to describe the beginnings of my more current bicycle trek - my travels back and forth across America - I was trying to explain to lifelong friend Denny Wiegman how I got from Sedona to San Francisco and finally down to San Diego before the beginning of the first crossing. I didn't have maps at that time. One day I bicycled about 30 miles only to realize that I was back where I started. In telling Denny about this I made the offhand comment about which he loves to remind me, "Wiegman, the truth is, I was lost before I ever started on that bike trip!"

Kirk Wigen still loves to recount the story of a meeting we had in the basement of the little country church where I serve. The folks who were gathered that day were joking about how poor my sense of direction was and I, trying to make a point of this, reached out my hand and pointed toward the Parsonage and jokingly said, "I can get lost between the church and the house!"

Kirk, with his well-honed sense of timing and impeccable Norwegian humor, smiled and quipped, with a twinkle in his eye, "Pastor, your house is over that way!"

I had inadvertently pointed the wrong direction - and I was only 40 feet away!

Wigs would have added, "Cross, you were lost before you ever got started!"

We also can be lost in a spiritual way. I know that I have had those moments in my life, as well. One time, as I was sipping coffee early one morning in the Napa Valley back in November 2010, just starting my journey, I had a conversation with a man a little older than I, sitting outside a coffee shop. It was a college town and students were zooming around here and there on their campus bikes, seemingly sure of where they were headed.

My new friend said, not knowing I was a pastor, "To tell you the truth, John, I really feel lost right now. My wife left me a few years ago and I cannot really say that I blamed her. I have dated some but have not connected in a meaningful way. I have plenty of money, and can travel, but I just don't know which direction to go. These ought to be the best years of my life, but I feel confused and unsure."

176 I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek out your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.

I didn't really have much to offer him that day, except to say that, "Frank, I've been there more than once myself. I just want you to know that there is a power out there, one that I call "God," who does care about you. Not knowing where you have been or what you have tired, you might think about reaching out to God in your own way.

He seemed surprised by my comment, but he accepted it with grace. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was going to consider what I shared. I gave him my "WhereTheRoadLeads.com" card and headed on down the road - soon to get lost, of course!!

I did receive an email from him a few months later. He wrote that my comment had gotten him to think. He started reading the Bible and actually tried going to church. He said that he was finding direction now, and did not have that sense of being lost and alone. He even had met a nice lady in that church and was hopeful for where that relationship might go.

Do you feel lost right now? Sometimes that deep soulful sense of "lostness" is an emptiness that people do not share even with their loved ones. Many folks struggle with this all by themselves - alone. Sometimes we feel ashamed that we feel lost even while living among loving friends and family. Maybe we have productive work, and everything else seems to be going well in life. And yet there is this nagging pain inside that seems to have no genesis, and no end in sight...

5 And I said: “Woe is me! I am lost...yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”

I have found that a good place to begin is to embrace the reality of feeling lost and to find at least one person with whom to talk about this on a deep level. That is a big step, the first one. I am blessed that I have several dear friends in my life with whom I could express anything that I have burning in my soul. Because of that, I am able to return to a life filled with hopefulness and direction much quicker than I did as a younger man.

Life isn't all that easy sometimes. But we do have a Lord to who has paved the way for us and who is willing to take us on his shoulders and carry us through the toughest times, much like the beloved "Footprints" poem. Be honest with yourself. It's no fun being lost, but there is a God who not only walks with us on this earthly journey, but who, in the end, welcomes us to a place where we never will be lost.

6 My people have been lost sheep; their shepherds have led them astray, turning them away on the mountains; from mountain to hill they have gone, they have forgotten their fold.

We were amazingly relieved when we found Peter on down the road. His first reaction was one of anger because he thought that we had abandoned him. Once he realized that his being lost shook us to the core, he was reassured that he was traveling with three brothers in Christ who loved him.

We were able to laugh about it, later. He shared the story of being chased by some local tough guys on bikes and how he out-paced them even though he had 60 pounds of gear on his Raleigh International. It was dark and he was in a frightening situation. But he survived the night and 3 days later we were all united.

Having been lost, there is little in life that is more satisfying than being found - whether in Central America, or in the painful depths of our souls...

Prayer: Dear Jesus, I must admit sometimes I feel lost and even alone. And those feelings do not always make sense. Even when I am on my home turf, and know the roads like the back of my hand, I might get lost in a spiritual realm. Thank you for loving me so much that you always bring me back to yourself, and remind me that you are always there for me. Thank you Jesus. Amen.

The Good Book:

4 The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke. 5 And I said: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Isaiah 6: 4 - 5

6 My people have been lost sheep; their shepherds have led them astray, turning them away on the mountains; from mountain to hill they have gone, they have forgotten their fold. 7 All who found them have devoured them, and their enemies have said, “We are not guilty, because they have sinned against the Lord, the true pasture, the Lord, the hope of their ancestors.” Jeremiah 6: 6 - 7

174 I long for your salvation, O Lord,
and your law is my delight.
175 Let me live that I may praise you,
and let your ordinances help me.
176 I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek out your servant, for I do not forget your commandments. Psalm 119: 174 - 176]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/lost-before-i-started/ Sun, 28 Apr 2013 02:34:55 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/profile-1140/blog/15-steps-to-self-development/ (1) Develop will power: There is immense streng...]]> (1) Develop will power: There is immense strength in the will. The man of strong will can be successful in every walk of life and can become beloved of all. Take some vow, small or big to strengthen your willpower.
(2) Resoluteness: Make a determination according to your requirement, capability and potentials and stick to it. Accomplish it. Once, I was travelling in the Himalayas at such an altitude that mere 15-20 steps of walking would render me breathless. Oxygen was less in the environment and I was carrying some luggage also. This would make me halt frequently. I would keep aside my luggage, rest for a few minutes and then resume my journey. I had to catch a bus for my onward journey. I deliberated, ‘If I stop frequently like this, I shall miss my bus and then get stranded in the cold night.’ I immediately made a resolve, ‘I’ll not keep the luggage on the ground till I reach the bus stop.’ Of course, it was strenuous and I had to exert myself, yet I reached my destination in time. One who accomplishes any task with firm determination gets inner satisfaction. So be firm in fulfilling whatever good resolve you make. It strengthens willpower which in turn fulfils your resolves.
(3) Fearlessness: Fearlessness is life; fear is death. Banish thoughts of weakness from your mind. People take advantage of one weak and fearful. Whenever a fearful thought comes to your mind, contemplate pure Knowledge, ‘Fear is only in the mind; I’m fearless.’ Always keep the small booklet, ‘Jeevan Rasayana’ (‘Elixir of Life’ in English) in your pocket and read it time and again. This will rid you of fear and sorrow. Send this book to others who are fearful. This will be a great service to them. Send the book ‘Madhur Vyavahar’ (‘Winsome Behaviour’ in English) to those who are quarrelsome or have family strife. Send the book “Mangalamaya Jivanmrityu” to the bereaved and grief-stricken people. Send the book ‘Ishwar ki Or’ (‘Towards God’ in English) to those who want to tread the path to God-Realization, and send ‘Jivan Vikas’ to those who want to develop in their life.
(4) Knowledge: Attainment of Knowledge of the Self, the Supreme Self and of the nature also helps increase self-force. When Sadguru lights the flame of inner knowledge through satsang, it reduces sins to ashes and brings effulgence, peace and joy to life.
(5) Reflection on Supreme Self, the Truth Absolute: ‘I am eternally united with Supreme Self, who is Existence Absolute, Pure Consciousness, witness to everything; who is deathless, who never parts from me and who is unable to desert me. And I am continually separated from the world and this body that is fleeting, dying and deserting me every moment.’ Such contemplation also increases self-force.
(6) Faith: Belief in the Supreme Lord, God-Realized saints, Shastras, Guru-mantra, and belief in oneself is the unfailing means to self-development and Supreme Bliss.
(7) Development of Divine Element: Satsang, japa of divine Name, meditation and observance of fasts and vows develop the Divine element. This in turn naturally cultivates divine virtues like equanimity, humility, cheerfulness, generosity, altruism and self-force. (Continued...)]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-1140/blog/15-steps-to-self-development/ Thu, 25 Apr 2013 10:25:45 +0000 Param Pujya Sant Shri Asharamji Bapu http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/bentley-still-dancing/ Mud Flat Musings: "Bentley Danced"

Yesterday my daughter, Adrienne Crawford, was the guest writer for my "musings" contribution. A couple of years a...]]> Mud Flat Musings: "Bentley Danced"

Yesterday my daughter, Adrienne Crawford, was the guest writer for my "musings" contribution. A couple of years ago I had written a story about Bentley that was posted here on SpiritAndWord - and I decided to use that story (rewritten) as my musing for today. It seems to be a fitting follow-up to what Adrienne shared yesterday...

4 Praise him with tambourine and dance;

Bentley Danced

The people gathered after the Ohio wedding in a modest church fellowship hall - old, lovingly worn, and yet welcoming and hospitable in a folksy, small town kind of way. Families were together, talking about the big event. Oh, how radiant was the bride! And how quietly handsome was the groom!

A country style meal of barbecued chicken, coleslaw, potato salad, rolls and trimmings was followed by the mound of homemade baked items on the “cookie table” – an Ohio wedding kind of tradition, I guess.

Music began to play and people gradually began to go to the dance floor, albeit slowly as the men seemed hesitant to join the ladies out there in the public’s eye. ("Dance like no one is watching," guys! )

In a respectful, quiet kind of way - it was a time of joy, happiness, and Mid-west measured excitement.

And then Bentley danced. This boy, my grandson, almost two years old, was born with Down syndrome to a mom and dad who were in their mid-twenties. The miracle was Adrienne and David's already open hearts. For, long before this precious one was born, they had talked about adopting a special needs baby after having a few children of their own.

When the doctor told them, "Your son might have Down syndrome," David looked into Adrienne’s eyes and simply said, “It’s all right honey – he is our first born – a gift from the Almighty. He is ours to love. He is all right. We are all right.”

Just before the wedding, Bentley had learned to walk. He was thrilled with his mobility, standing upright, moving - ok, waddling in a wobbly kind of way - around the room. Instinctively he heard the music and slowly headed onto the dance floor, his smile of innocence and pure joy filling the room.

And then it happened -- Bentley danced. And everything changed. The moment that was already good, had just become great. The festive spirit suddenly received a lightning bolt of energy and joy.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. People took out video cameras and focused in on the little boy with the blond hair. His pure “in the moment” exuberance and absolute joy was infectious. Bentley's spirit filled the room.

People came from their various worlds - filled with the mundane, the normal and the predictable. They had thoughts of baseball and corn on the cob and family gatherings. The sun rose and set that day, June 25th. But it all changed when Bentley danced.

People around the country awake each day. Some are so burdened with life that they barely can get up. The weight on their shoulders is close to being too much to carry. Their reality is full of pain, sadness, worry and fear. If only they could have seen Bentley dance...

4 Praise him with tambourine and dance;
praise him with strings and pipe!

When the Almighty created, it was good. When Bentley danced, he felt the rhythm of the universe. It was as if he swayed within the gravitational pull of the rotating earth. Watching him was like the awe of beholding a triple rainbow after an Arizona Mountains summer rain.

There are some who wonder, “Is it worth the mountain trail to reach the summit?” Tragedy happens every day, in the journey of life, and lives are put in peril. Dreams are shattered and hearts are broken.

And yet, when dawn opens up a new day as if it were the first, fall colors brilliantly fill the sky, strikingly clear streams find their way down mountain slopes, seagulls are chased off ocean beaches by the incoming rush of waves, a child delights in flying a kite – and Bentley dances.

6 Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!

Often, it is the little things in life that make a difference. There are metaphors everywhere, and they become hooks for people to hang onto. There can be predictability and vulnerability, and yes, boredom and lack of joy.

But then, a child walks onto the dance floor and hears the music in his soul. Perhaps this boy, who sees life from a perspective of tender trust and infinite hopefulness, hears the song in a little different way.

4 Praise him with tambourine and dance;

In other places, around the country and the world, music plays and people hear without listening. But, from time to time, a few lonely souls, caught within the hidden world of their own pain, suddenly do listen with hope and happiness and, by the grace of God, the miracle happens - they dance!

In the end, yes, it is worth it – all of it. The long journey is often arduous. We wonder, "What is the meaning of it all?" But then comes another sunrise, and a brilliant showcase of sun after the storm. Sounds of laughter, reminders of the goodness all around, come bursting out with gusto from small town parks, sometimes sad nursing homes and city play grounds.

A farmer rides his tractor, tilling the earth, for 14 hours, and falls asleep exhausted, but deeply satisfied. A man, having lost his wife to cancer, years later meets another woman who somehow renews and mends his shattered heart, and new love begins. A mother and a father, weary from a day of working and raising children, light the candles and put on the music. Then they dance...

Today is your day. There is rhythm in your soul. When you hear the music, go ahead -- dance. That’s what Bentley did that hot summer day in Ohio. And everything changed…

Prayer: Lord Jesus, sometimes I feel flat footed and listless. Life has lost its luster and I am strictly on muddle through mode. Then an old man shows his toothless grin when a child jumps on his lap. A lonely teenager brightens up when a friendly dog nuzzles her in hopes of getting petted. And Bentley dances. In small mysteries, you show me the light of the Gospel. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

Song of the Day....

And for you in the SpiritAndWord community of faith, think about that dream percolating in your soul, ready to soar, as you watch and listen to Lee Ann Womack perform an inspiring song. Then, "I Hope You Dance…"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV-Z1YwaOiw&ob=av2e


The Good Book:

1 Praise the Lord!
Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty firmament!
2 Praise him for his mighty deeds;
praise him according to his surpassing greatness!
3 Praise him with trumpet sound;
praise him with lute and harp!
4 Praise him with tambourine and dance;
praise him with strings and pipe!
5 Praise him with clanging cymbals;
praise him with loud clashing cymbals!
6 Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord! Psalm 150]]> http://spiritandword.org/profile-234/blog/bentley-still-dancing/ Thu, 25 Apr 2013 06:36:32 +0000 John Cross http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/i-in-a-hurry/ From beliefnet


I’m in a hurry and don’t know why…

I was on a flight yesterday morning from Louisville to Sarasota to visit wi...]]> From beliefnet


I’m in a hurry and don’t know why…

I was on a flight yesterday morning from Louisville to Sarasota to visit with clients. Sitting on the plane just before takeoff, I looked out the window at the massive wing reaching out on either side of the fuselage like a mighty eagle stretching its wings before taking flight. I marveled at its size…its strength and weight…the fact that inside its wings resides the unseen fuel that gives engines the thrust so the wings might effortlessly do their work.

I understand little about aerodynamics. What I do know is that the wings are just the right shape, size, and length to enable this jetliner to lift from the earth to the heavens.

It’s a spiritual lesson and one I almost missed.

I returned to my Delta brewed coffee with a splash of Baileys when the thought occurred to me: “As human beings, we, are equally complex creations, are we not? Mysterious in design and capability, too?

Think about it. We are an immaculate design, providing temporary residence to trillions of cells that flash on and off like lights, each performing its momentary but momentous function and all the while orchestrated by an unseen Conductor who leads this perfectly tuned symphony we call human life.

Whatever this Mystery is, it enables my mind to think, my heart to beat, my lungs to breathe, my hands to grasp, my fingers to move, my knees to bend, my feet to walk, my tongue to speak, my eyes to see, my ears to hear and on and on and on with a myriad of millions, even billions, of unseen functions all occurring within and simultaneously and without any involvement by me.

It all just happens and I am completely unaware of it. It is one breathtakingly majestic mystery.

Can you think of anything more magnificent? Must you and I stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon before we feel the majesty, mysteriousness, and magnificence of this creation? Of you, yourself?

What I’m talking about my friend is God in human flesh. Only this time, the human flesh is YOU!

Your life.

If you knew who this was IN YOU, doing all of this unseen stuff, of what could you possibly be afraid?

If you were even remotely aware of how extraordinary you really are, how could you ever again regard your life as too damn ordinary?

Know what our problem is? What my problem is at least?

I’m too often spiritually unconscious!

And, if salvation isn’t awakening you to greater consciousness…more alertness…a larger awareness, what good is your religion anyway? Really now! What good is it?

The reason you’re reading this and can’t stop reading it is because something in you knows that what I’m writing about is true and it feels to your thirsty soul what soil must feel whenever the spring rains descend upon it.

So, you don’t feel so majestic either? You don’t feel wonderfully made, as the Psalmist put it (Ps 139:14)?

Maybe you and I don’t see the mystery that we are or the magic that we are…or, for that matter, maybe we do not recognize the many messages from beyond because…

… “We’re in a hurry to get things done…Oh I rush and rush until life’s no fun…”

Heard that song today, too, like a message from beyond, just as I turned on the radio on my way to have the car serviced. The song is a bit old indeed, but its message is just as relevant as the day Alabama first sang it.

I know. I got the tune stuck in your head now. So, go ahead take it for a moment. Hum the tune with me and words, too, to the next line.

Remember how it goes?

“All I really gotta do is live and die, but I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.”

“…I’m in a hurry and don’t know why?”

Do you know why?

If you’re like me, sometimes I need to be reminded that “all I really gotta do is live and die.”

The tragedy about life is not that we die; the real tragedy is that we never really live.”

The mystery is missed because the mind, rather than being present…rather than being conscious – which means “alert” “awake” “aware” – rather than observing what’s right in front of its face, as in the wing on a plane…rather than hearing the many messages from beyond that quietly speak to us from everywhere and through everyone, even through everything…the mind is “here” but wants to be “there”…wherever “there” is.

Which may explain why Jesus described people like you and me as “lost”…

Lost…

“…like sheep without a shepherd,” lost…

“…like a coin carelessly dropped to the floor,” lost…

“…like a prodigal son trying to survive the stupid choices he’s made of his life…” lost…

“…like a ‘goodie-two shoes’ who’s in church but whose heart is far from Father and resentful toward everyone.”

“All I really gotta do is live and die…”

Live…and…Die.

That’s really all any of us “gotta do” and, come to think of it, we do not control either of them…neither our birth nor our death. So, maybe the lesson in all of this is that we should just be still today…slow down a whole bunch…pay closer attention to what’s going on around us…perhaps even say a prayer of thanks for being so wonderfully made…

And, oh, while you’re at it, do you think we should be grateful, too…

For those messages from beyond that come through old country songs we haven’t heard in a while?

And, what about a word of thanks today, for those unseen Wings that carry you…

…even when you’re not aware?





..]]> http://spiritandword.org/Charlie_Van_Dyke/blog/i-in-a-hurry/ Tue, 23 Apr 2013 17:08:22 +0000 Charlie Van Dyke