It might be easy to forgive someone for the little things they do that hurt us. BUT… what do you do when someone does something…unforgivable! You have to turn to God and discover a way to forgive… Here is an incredible story of just that. Steve Hartman shares a story of HOW you MUST learn to forgive…. WATCH!
By Lynna Clark
I got a call from my granddaughter Kianna the other day. In the midst of delivering pizza to NAPA, the auto parts store, she was verbally attacked by a customer. It seems because Kianna was wearing a mask the lady in line decided that my granddaughter was in need of enlightenment. She accused her of being brain washed by the media, questioned her heritage and political persuasion, then proceeded to tie everything together with a sound cussing.
Sorry. I exaggerated a bit when I used the term “lady.” The strange overheated woman leaned in close and coughed on my granddaughter in hopes that she would realize a mask could not protect her. Never mind the fact that Pizza Hut requires masks on all their personnel. So I did what any Godly grandmother would do. I tossed several shovels into the back of the truck and headed to NAPA. As Kianna and I continued to talk I asked her how big the woman was.
“I think we can take her,” my lovely granddaughter replied.
“Alright honey. Here’s the plan. I’ll whack her in the head with my shovel. You hit her again for good measure. I’ll take her arms, you grab her legs and we’ll drag her into the woods. Between the two of us we can dig a hole deep enough to cover her crazy. Then I’ll explain to her that germs, politics, and brain washing are not the only dangers in our society.” I imagined pointing my finger in her face to drive my point home. “Now you lay there and think about what you’ve done!”
Kianna seemed pleased with the plan. The only problem is that she lives in Illinois and I live in NC; approximately seven hundred and twenty one miles apart. Even as fast as I drive the woman would likely be gone by the time I got there. Oh how I wish I could shake her ‘til her teeth rattle and explain the futility of a life lived in anger. I mean really! What the heck? What she doesn’t know is that my granddaughter just graduated high school in a year that was less than ideal. The child works two jobs and saves every penny toward college. When she is not delivering pizza she takes care of a beautiful little girl with severe autism. Instead of answering her attacker, Kianna took a step back and celebrated the $5 pity tip the guy who ordered the pizza gave her.
I couldn’t get there in time to make good use of my shovel, so I offered a bit of wisdom instead. Since she is headed to New York for college I reminded Kianna that the Lord is preparing her for big city life. “He’s promised to equip us for the things He asks us to do. Maybe He knows you need to get used to all those swear words.” She nodded and laughed. “Then I should be good to go for a while.”
I don’t have any idea how to end this story. Maybe the moral is as mentioned earlier: Living a life filled with anger is futile. Perhaps we should all leave our sharp words and shovels at home. Maybe we could even tip folks extra good to help make up for some of the ignorance going around. Or maybe we could just take a step back and hope to God that crazy is not contagious.
My Kiannagirl and me having tea about 8 years ago. Seems like yesterday.
By Ashlie Miller
Nothing enhances gentle breezes like a set of wind chimes on the porch. Usually, they are a lovely sound, but one day recently, they proved to be a tangled mass of brokenness needing gentle hands.
Mom died three years ago this past Friday, and grief is ever-present, seeking to appear at the most unsuspecting times. My brother told me a story of processing grief while listening to wind chimes – some given to him as a memorial to our mother. He lives in the NC mountains, and breezes are a refreshing part of the day. However, one evening, the wind must have been more aggressive, taking the cords and chimes and whipping them together in a tangled mess. The sight was unseemly, and the sound was broken and disheveled.
Patiently, my brother unwound the cords, untwisting the metal wrapped haphazardly together, prompting tears to come to his eyes. He felt God speaking to him through the moment, reminding him that He had done the same thing for our mother. She had lived firmly and faithfully through her cancer journey the last few years. But even with a smile, she was still wrecked and ruined – her melody limited in her time here on earth. God relieved her earthly sufferings.
Not only is she now free from the encumberments of a broken and fallen earth, filled with sin, sickness, and disease, but she is also free of the things we may think we brought upon her. I imagine many children, perhaps many loved ones, have certain regrets when a loved one passes. There may be regrets of not spending enough time, words spoken or words not spoken, memories of childhood rebellions or adult neglect in a relationship – earthly (temporal) things that seem to fill up our days that turn into years that turn into a lifetime of remorse and sadness. It is a weight we wonder if they continue to carry as we wrestle with it ourselves.
Sometimes, survivors can feel an unnecessary burden or prolonged guilt and regret for missed opportunities or years. However, for the Christian who has passed from this life to eternity, all those memories and brokenness are erased—untangled. God is the Master who gently takes the tangled, mangled mess, lovingly unfolding it into something beautiful and free to make an everlasting song.
My brother successfully unwrapped the chimes, free to listen to the music in the wind again. He is growing to be free and untangle himself of regrets and missed opportunities.
When tempted to live in sorrowful grief and regret, we can remember that the awesomeness of God’s glory is beyond anything temporal when we are in eternity. His majesty, grace, and love will consume all our thoughts and desires. He promises to wipe away our tears and do away with death, mourning, crying, and pain – the many things related to our earthly lives (Revelation 21:4). I am not sure how God will do that, but I am so thankful that He not only does that for us one day but that He also does that for our loved ones who have preceded us in death into eternal life.
By Doug Creamer
Everyone who knows me knows that I love weather. I watch the weather every day and keep track of storms. I may not know the high temperature we are expecting on a particular day, but I can tell you about storms that are on the way. My favorites are snowstorms and hurricanes. I will start tracking them long before the weather people on TV begin to mention them.
I used to know all the weather people from both Charlotte and Greensboro stations. The internet allows me access to the models, which I follow very closely. Since I gained that access, I have almost stopped following the local weather personalities. I check out some of their websites, follow a few weather bloggers, and go to the Weather Channel website, too. I still prefer to drill down into the data myself and see what I think based on the models.
When snowstorms and hurricanes are brewing, I check the models as soon as they update. I have developed an email list of people who want to know what I am thinking about a major weather event. It is all for fun and to see how accurately I can “guess” what will happen. I include side notes about some possible extremes just for fun.
It is Tuesday evening as I sit here at my computer. Hurricane Debby is now tropical storm Debby and she is planning to give us lots of rain. While we will experience some flooding in our area, the people along the coast will be experiencing significant flooding. The number one search on Google for that area is: how do you build an ark? But seriously, keep them in your prayers.
When Noah built the ark it took a long time. His sons helped, but it still took a long, long time to build the ark. If we were given that assignment today, it would take large crews of men working overtime to complete such a huge project. All the crews would become good friends as they worked long hours beside each other to get everything complete.
Working beside someone can help build connections, relationships, and even friendships. Deep friendships don’t develop overnight. It takes a personal investment of our time. Once a friendship is established neither time nor distance will break the bonds.
My best friend and I became friends at work. We ate lunch together every day and talked about work, personal struggles, or whatever was going on in our lives at the time. Our friendship developed naturally over time. We spent time together at work and socially. We helped each other out. He helped me move; now that is a true test of friendship!
Early in our friendship we developed two boundaries. We decided not to talk about politics because we were on opposite sides of the aisle. The interesting thing to me is that we both thought more alike than we realized. We could have discussed our different ideas because we were willing to meet in the middle and understand our different perspectives. The media portrays us as a divided country, but I believe if we could just sit down together and talk that we have more in common with each other than we realize and that we could become friends.
The other topic my friend quarantined was faith. His faith was personal and private. I am very outgoing when it comes to talking about my faith in God. A couple years before he passed I was at his house when he told me that I was a good writer. I asked him how he knew. He said he had printed out and read all my columns and kept them in notebooks. His faith was deep and rich. I drove home that night reflecting on our friendship. We had talked faith for all the years we knew each other…we just didn’t use words. I miss my best friend mainly because we were real with each other and we were there for each other in spite of any differences.
I want to encourage you to treasure your friendships. I was reminded recently that true friends look past different opinions to look at the heart. Someone who will stand with you through thick and thin is a true treasure. I miss my best friend, his laughter, the joking, the comradery, and the true judgement-free connection. It is hard for some to accept, but God wants to be best friends with you. All you have to do is open your heart to Him and spend some time with Him…the friendship will develop naturally, deeply over time.
Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com
By Roger Barbee
One Drop
My drop, measured by inches, was short. I had fallen only about eighteen inches, so that was good. The bad was that I was sitting on the wet pavement of the parking lot of my building as heavy drops of rain pelted everything in the dark, late night. I could not see my wheelchair because my sloppy transfer, instead of landing me in the seat, had pushed it backwards and it now rested somewhere behind me. The heavy, thick rain continued to drop in a steady rhythm as I tried to think of a plan: Tired from a long day and too much alcohol, I sat on the wet pavement that now carried a steady flow of water, drop after drop of rain adding to my self-imposed misery. I tried to push the muddle from my brain and think of a way to regain my position in the driver’s seat, but all I managed was to become more soaked from my head to my legs.
It was then that I saw him crossing the street. He approached me but no drop of rain touched him or his gleaming white shirt. He grew closer, and I noticed the contrast of his dark, brown hands with the bright, white cuffs of his shirt. It was then that I remembered him from Douglas Airport in Charlotte and how he had pushed me and my heavy bag up a carpeted ramp when I was having trouble navigating in a crowd. Now walking past me in the dark lot, he retrieved my wheelchair and placed it behind me. Those same brown hands now lifted me onto my soaked wheelchair seat. As I was putting my feet on the footrest of my wheelchair, I heard him say in the same voice from Charlotte, “You should take better care of yourself.” Then he was gone like a fallen drop of rain.
In Charlotte my heavy bag was about to drop from my lap as I tried to navigate a carpeted ramp in a rushing push of travelers. In the wet parking lot, my drop was again due to my excess and poor planning: Too much stuff in a too big bag, too much work, too much alcohol. But he came. Twice he rescued me from self-imposed trouble.
He has not appeared since. Perhaps because I have heeded his words to take better care of myself or whatever, I have not seen him, but I know he is present, ready to save me from my next drop.
By David Freeze
Mountain State Parks!
Visiting more mountain state parks on July 16th was an easy choice. With highs in the mid-90s here, I headed for the cooler hills. My first stop was Stone Mountain State Park, the first of three parks for the day that I had never visited. From my guidebook, I expected to see glimpses of the granite dome as soon as I entered the park, but I didn’t. Over four miles in circumference, it stands at 2,305 feet and is the centerpiece of the park.
I stopped first at the park office for some tips on the best hiking, a map and my treasured passport stamp. The attendant looked at my back brace and suggested some easy hikes to see a waterfall and a short one to see the restored 1880s farm within the park. She told me about the prettiest falls in the park but cautioned me because of 300 steps down and back to see it from the base. The office had nice displays concerning the history and wildlife in the park. The park, opened in 1969, has 14,353 acres and tops out at 2,305 feet.
I drove to the lower hiking area and walked a portion of the Stone Mountain Loop Trail to see the Hutchinson Homestead, a wonderfully restored house, barn and a handful of other outbuildings required for the self-sufficient farm family of the late 19th century. All the buildings are closed to the public, but I would love to return someday to see the insides. Signboards told of the history of each building and most of them included photos of the Hutchison family in the early years of the farm.
Just behind the farm and slightly farther up the trail was my first sight of Stone Mountain, a genuine “wow moment”. I’ve seen spectacular scenery all across America and Canada and assure you the actual stone mountain ranks very highly, especially when viewed from the top of what I suspect was once a large hay field for the farm. Above all this on the top of the mountain is the highlight of the Mountain Loop Trail. Once my strength and balance recover more, I will do that one before 2024 is out.
I did the .75-mile Connector Trail to stand atop the Stone Mountain Falls, the one with the 300 steps down and of course 300 back up. Probably better seen in the late fall and winter with less foliage, I still couldn’t stand not to do the 300 steps. Solid wood steps with a railing helped and I was able to make the descent but could only see about half of the 200 feet of the falls due to the lush foliage. I met a couple on the way back up who said, “We saw you with the back brace and knew if you could make it, we had to do it!” I had a blast, but my heart was pumping!
I also walked the short distance to Widow’s Creek Falls, complete with plenty of standing water for a cool pool dip. My last stop in the park was the historic Garden Creek Baptist Church, established in 1897 and still holding services on Sunday.
Grandfather Mountain State Park is one of the newest state parks, opened in 2009. The 2,456 acre park doesn’t have an office but has nice trail-end bathrooms, benches and a parking lot off Highway 105 South. Still in developmental stage, the park is mostly wilderness with hiking trails, backcountry camping sites and beautiful views of Grandfather Mountain. The Profile Trail, the centerpiece of the park, climbs from the parking lot 3.6 miles over 1600 feet in elevation increase to the crest of the mountain. I walked about .75 miles of the trail, all well done with good footing and new steps. Other trails are at the Boone Fork Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
This is not the Grandfather Mountain home of the swinging bridge and other attractions. Operated by Grandfather Mountain Stewardship Foundation and located close by, this park charges an admission fee.
Lake James State Park, established in 1987, has 3,743 acres and 150 miles of shoreline. Lake James was created by Duke Power in the early 1900s. The park office/visitor center is new and impressive. There is a 700 ft. swim beach area in the Paddy’s Creek Section of the park. I walked the Fonta Flora Trail, paved for a section down to the lake, that becomes a walking trail with the first of the many scenic views of the lake. Becoming packed dirt, it quickly crossed a steel bridge over a beautiful section of the lake, before more dirt trail.
Lake James was my tenth park, but the first with a major emphasis on mountain biking. Nearly 20 miles of trail with rated areas for beginners, intermediate and experienced bikers are exceptional, and I was surprised to see all of this promoted in the visitor center. In my view, these trails along with many of the hiking trails would be a great place for running too.
The lake has excellent facilities for swimming, boating (paddleboards, canoes, kayaks too), picnicking and fishing in or on its 6,812 acres of beautiful water fed by the Linville and Catawba Rivers.
Finally, a two-mile section of the Overmountain Victory Trail from the Revolutionary War along with at least nine other hiking trails, none rated strenuous, are available.
I am way excited to continue this quest of the NC State Parks. 10 visited with 32 more to go!
By Ed Traut
John 17:15 My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.
Prayer: Thank You Lord that You are my helper and my ever intercessor and watch over me that the evil one can not harm me. I feel safe in You today. Amen.
Ed Traut
Prophetic Life
Steve Hartman teaches us that anyone can do acts of kindness. It’s when we take a moment and stop thinking about ourselves and we think about someone else. As a teacher, I like to share his lessons with others. Watch today’s lesson…
It brought me to a complete standstill. I looked up. A flock of birds flew overhead. How do they do that? Every move was in complete sync. I immediately gave credit to the prowess of their leader.
But… guess what? I found out that the birds actually take turns being the leader, and being the leader has no obvious benefits.
When a flock of birds is flying together in the V-formation, they are able to take advantage of the aerodynamic effects of flying behind one another – getting strength and energy from the wings of the preceding bird. It is more important that a bird fly in the right place than that he fly at the right time. They are cooperative and work together.
When birds are part of a flock, it makes it easier to feed, to nest, and to escape predators.
1 Peter 5:2-3 says to feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind. Neither as lords over God’s heritage, but as an example to our flock.
These verses are used to describe leaders of the church, but cannot be overlooked by anyone that is leading someone somewhere somehow sometime. That is all of us!
It is those who walk through life with us, work with us, and worship with us.
How are we to feed our flock?
* Feed the flock of God which is among you. This means we are to have three meals a day ready at the appropriate time. (Just kidding. I wanted to see if you were paying attention.) To ‘feed the flock’ is not a command, but it is about encouraging and building up those we see and spend time with in our daily lives.
* Taking the oversight of. To ‘take oversight of’ means to lead. We lead by showing others the way to a destination as we go in front or beside of them while moving forward.
* Not by constraint but willingly. To feed the flock willingly means that you serve eagerly – not out of obligation.
* Not for filthy lucre. That means you don’t do it for money or in a dishonorable or dishonest way. You do it for the right reasons.
* But of a ready mind. That part speaks for itself. Have our minds ready!
*Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being examples to the flock. As leaders feeding our flock – those among us – we all need to be examples.
Even when doing good and important things for our flock – we sometimes fail to do it the way 1 Peter 5:2-3 instructs us to.
So even if our flock often feels more like a gaggle of geese, a herd of goats, or a covert of coots, we all need to flock around our flock – feeding them daily.
How about the benefits? That is in the next verse 1 Peter 5:4. It says that when the chief Shepherd shall appear, we shall receive a crown of glory that fades not away.
By Rhonda Sassano
I was taking my morning walk, and one of my favorite songs started to play. I relished the familiarity for a moment and, forgetting I was wearing earbuds, joined the vocalist singing, “How deep the Father’s love for us… how vast beyond all measure…that He would give His only Son…and make a wretch His treasure…How great the pain of searing loss…The Father turns His face away….as wounds which mar the Chosen One…bring many sons to glory.” The truth of those words really hit home all of a sudden. Did the Father trade His most precious son for me, for someone who really is a wretch? I truly am a worthless worm, and I deserve absolutely nothing! How could the Father possibly love me so much? As I was trying to think of an analogy to express my heart, I thought of one of my young clients. This client has several habits that are not only annoying but downright infuriating, and all of my skills are constantly tested by his behaviors and whole-body eye roll. Yes, definitely my least-favorite person, I thought. Then I wondered, is that who I am to the Father? Annoying and infuriating even? His least favorite person, perhaps, with all my disobedience and certain-that-i-know-best attitude. Yes. The Father choosing me over His Son would be like me giving up my most precious, beloved, treasured, and highly-valued son, Victor! In essence, “trading him in” for my very least favorite person! I thought my heart would burst at just the thought…
And I imagined this scene: I am sitting on a throne, staring Victor in the face and I’m pointing to the exit sign. And then I turn my head, so I won’t see him walk away; but now I am looking directly into the face of my least favorite person… and Very Least Favorite isn’t even vaguely aware of the sacrifice that just occurred… an extreme, anguish-filled, heart-wreaking sacrifice! For his benefit; for his promotion; for his eternal blessing and glory! I cannot even speak these words without emotion swelling, and overtaking me… What a scene in heaven that must’ve been… What do you think the angels must have thought and felt? The only grace is that they already had a full understanding of the Father‘s heart, that it was never to send Jesus away, but it was the only way to grant us access to relationship with Him. If I had been standing there that day among the Angels, human as I am, I think I might have run up to Father and grabbed his hand, and demanded that he not allow this atrocity to happen! Oh Father! This sacrifice will never be worth it! Look again at the one your Son is being sacrificed for… And realize that least favorite person will never return the feelings, the love, the vulnerability, the intimacy, that You have experienced with Your Son. Least Favorite could never possibly measure up in even one area!
And I can see and feel the Father placing His hand on my head and then sharing with me that it was Jesus’ desire to be the sacrifice! He actually counted it an honor and privilege, even, to serve the Father, and each one of us, in that way. He gently reminded me that Jesus had already walked through the pain, the betrayal, the frustration, because time doesn’t apply to Him the way it does to me. And somehow, because of his love for us, He found it bearable… And not only bearable, but Jesus counted it J O Y ! I can see myself, knees melting, trembling hands clinging to the Father‘s feet and begging for an explanation. Father utters only one word: “LOVE.” Those fiery, intense eyes become so kind and tender and gentle that I throw my arms around his neck and smother Him with kisses. When I pull away to take a breath, Jesus is right there, scars and all, glowing with glory. “It’s done. I did it for you, precious Rhonda. And I cannot wait to be with you forever!” My heart is thrilled beyond description, literally tingling with His nearness… my breath catches in my throat as Least Favorite glances in my direction. I’m so sorry, Jesus. Please, please forgive my, my …. You see my heart, Jesus. You know it’s been .. not right from the beginning with this client. But the circumstance wasn’t his fault and even if it was, I still can easily afford to extend a little grace to him. You’ve given me so much! Sacrificed your whole life me! How can I withhold from him patience and a real effort to understand? I cannot. I choose to let You soften my heart towards him. Help me extend just a little bit more of the compassion and mercy You have never withheld from me.
The screech of a hawk soaring above jerked me back to reality. My pace quickened to make up lost time, the rush of wind helping dry the dampness on my cheeks.
What a beautiful gift I had been given… more grace and mercy from my ever-loving, ever Present, ever-encouraging Father and Savior! I only pray that my impact on Least Favorite will be such that he, too, will recognize, appreciate, and embrace the sacrifice made for him.
“God is not looking for those who can but those who will.”