Jumping in...to a time of rejoicing
Dear friends-
When I was young I was on a camping trip and we had gone a very long way into the wilderness. And as we approached the lake I could see their was still ice in the distance. I thought, the last place I want to be is in that water. On the other hand, I had sweated my self up to the place where not being clean was high on my agenda. So, as we circled everything up and got things prepared for dinner, I decided I was going to take a swim. I went over to a little bank, perhaps 4-5 above the water and looked in and decided a shallow dive and a quick swim over to the small "beach." Now, I will tell you, my brothers and I played hockey on marginally frozen ponds and going through the ice had not been "that bad." Probably because I had neglected to remember that it had probably not included total immersion. In I went. And as soon as I hit tat water with the tips of my fingers, I knew that life was going to be exciting. As I plunged in I felt what could only be described as heart stopping. My swim was as short as I could make it. And let me tell you it was a rush. I was giddy, trying to think through. I got out of the water and more cold took over. Now, that was cold weather camping or winter camping.
And when I got baptized there was still ice on the pond in the far reaches. The men baptizing came out purple.
Why recount this? The last few days have been a trial. In some ways I feel like a parachutist (Though never figuring out why someone would jump out of a perfectly good airplane.). Committed to the process, trying to absorb the beauty and wondering about the landing. I guess most of my life has been calculated, but I recognize to others it appears to be a plunge.
A few days ago my furnace stopped working. (You know, during the snowstorm that attacked the northeast?) And I called my friendly plumber. He came over, and told me I was out of fuel. OK...I was surprised, but went and got about 15 gallons of fuel, loaded it in, bled the system and it ran...all night. I thought it was fixed. While he was here, he declared my furnace an antique and recommended euthanasia. So, yesterday it was pretty warm out, I bought another 100 gallons (Robbing Peter to pay Paul.) and thought we were all set. About 6 last night I realized the furnace was not running, let alone walking. Called my friendly plumber. He made some suggestions with the caveat that if that did not work, call him back. Well, the fix did not work, and 2.5 hours of calling did not work. So, my wife gathered up extra blankets, etc., and we prepared for a cold night.
I am a creature of habit. When I type into a word program I can not stand to see red underscores indicating misspelled words or green lines indicating bad grammar. I always go back to fix them. (The only problem as most of my readers can attest, is spell checkers do not fix correctly spelled words.) So this morning, I woke up (Actually, I was awake a lot as 100 pounds of blankets is well, a hundred pounds.) and being the creature of habit, I was going to take a shower. The floor was cold, the air was cold. We were below 50 degrees and falling. But, I jumped in. And when I got out, I realized how cold it was. Cold. My fingers are freezing, but the alternative is to do nothing.
And in the midst of it, I was reminded of a scripture that when I was first saved, I read. But, when I was in a church, I was appalled. For it is not a word of faith statement, my alma mater. The song is based on Habbakkuk 3.
My difficulties are less than the light afflictions of Paul. My house warmer than those of many nations. (Though a little cooler than the White House.) My water more plentiful than the deserts of barren nations. My roof while it leaked is still in place. And there is no water in the basement. I am not suggesting we accept attacks from the enemy and take them in stride, or accept sickness as part of life. I am suggesting we rejoice.
For the Lord is our strength.
Blessings,
Lee
When I was young I was on a camping trip and we had gone a very long way into the wilderness. And as we approached the lake I could see their was still ice in the distance. I thought, the last place I want to be is in that water. On the other hand, I had sweated my self up to the place where not being clean was high on my agenda. So, as we circled everything up and got things prepared for dinner, I decided I was going to take a swim. I went over to a little bank, perhaps 4-5 above the water and looked in and decided a shallow dive and a quick swim over to the small "beach." Now, I will tell you, my brothers and I played hockey on marginally frozen ponds and going through the ice had not been "that bad." Probably because I had neglected to remember that it had probably not included total immersion. In I went. And as soon as I hit tat water with the tips of my fingers, I knew that life was going to be exciting. As I plunged in I felt what could only be described as heart stopping. My swim was as short as I could make it. And let me tell you it was a rush. I was giddy, trying to think through. I got out of the water and more cold took over. Now, that was cold weather camping or winter camping.
And when I got baptized there was still ice on the pond in the far reaches. The men baptizing came out purple.
Why recount this? The last few days have been a trial. In some ways I feel like a parachutist (Though never figuring out why someone would jump out of a perfectly good airplane.). Committed to the process, trying to absorb the beauty and wondering about the landing. I guess most of my life has been calculated, but I recognize to others it appears to be a plunge.
A few days ago my furnace stopped working. (You know, during the snowstorm that attacked the northeast?) And I called my friendly plumber. He came over, and told me I was out of fuel. OK...I was surprised, but went and got about 15 gallons of fuel, loaded it in, bled the system and it ran...all night. I thought it was fixed. While he was here, he declared my furnace an antique and recommended euthanasia. So, yesterday it was pretty warm out, I bought another 100 gallons (Robbing Peter to pay Paul.) and thought we were all set. About 6 last night I realized the furnace was not running, let alone walking. Called my friendly plumber. He made some suggestions with the caveat that if that did not work, call him back. Well, the fix did not work, and 2.5 hours of calling did not work. So, my wife gathered up extra blankets, etc., and we prepared for a cold night.
I am a creature of habit. When I type into a word program I can not stand to see red underscores indicating misspelled words or green lines indicating bad grammar. I always go back to fix them. (The only problem as most of my readers can attest, is spell checkers do not fix correctly spelled words.) So this morning, I woke up (Actually, I was awake a lot as 100 pounds of blankets is well, a hundred pounds.) and being the creature of habit, I was going to take a shower. The floor was cold, the air was cold. We were below 50 degrees and falling. But, I jumped in. And when I got out, I realized how cold it was. Cold. My fingers are freezing, but the alternative is to do nothing.
And in the midst of it, I was reminded of a scripture that when I was first saved, I read. But, when I was in a church, I was appalled. For it is not a word of faith statement, my alma mater. The song is based on Habbakkuk 3.
THO'THE FIG TREE DOES NOT BLOSSOM AND THERE BE NO FRUIT ON THE VINE THE PRODUCE OF THE OLIVE FAIL AND THE FIELDS YIELD NO FOOD THO' THE FLOCK BE CUT OFF FROM THE FOLD AND THERE BE NO HERD IN THE STALLS YET WILL I REJOICE IN THE LORD YET WILL I REJOICE IN THE LORD I WILL JOY IN THE GOD OF MY SALVATION GOD THE LORD IS MY STRENGTHWhen I first heard it, I about fell over. My feelings were deliverance is to administered, and spiritual warfare is to be employed. It took me a few trials in the beginning to learn not to speak about the problem, a few more to war against the problem, and yet a few more to come to a place of rejoicing. But, I heard that song this morning. So, my day will be spent rejoicing. Despite the cold, for at some point I know I will enter into his fruited plain. And unlike Miriam, I want to be rejoicing before the "Red Sea" splits.
My difficulties are less than the light afflictions of Paul. My house warmer than those of many nations. (Though a little cooler than the White House.) My water more plentiful than the deserts of barren nations. My roof while it leaked is still in place. And there is no water in the basement. I am not suggesting we accept attacks from the enemy and take them in stride, or accept sickness as part of life. I am suggesting we rejoice.
For the Lord is our strength.
Blessings,
Lee
posted by Servant Communications at 3:33 AM
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