Liberty and Justice For All

 I am not sure when I first learned the pledge of allegiance to our American flag.  I did not attend kindergarten, though most of my friends did.  So, I guess I learned it in first grade at Robert E. Lee elementary.  With a portrait of the Civil War general peering over my shoulder, I faced the flag and  tried my best, pledging to one nation “invisible.”  That made sense.  The nation seemed pretty “invisible” to me at the time. Later, I learned the word was “indivisible” and had deep meaning related to my school’s namesake. 

 I think I got the last words of the pledge right from the start: “with liberty and justice for all.”  In my childhood world, It sounded a lot like what I read in the Superman comics:  “Truth, justice and the American way.”  (DC Comics changed the motto a few years ago to “truth, justice and a better tomorrow.”)

 By design, I suppose, our pledge is short and simple. It is that last phrase that has given us trouble.  “Liberty and justice for all.”  We haven’t always lived up to it. In fact, from the very beginning, as a nation, we have fallen short.  Just ask the Native Americans whose treaties were repeatedly broken and, after roaming the hills, plains and mountains of this continent for thousands of years, found themselves herded onto reservations. 

 Or ask the African Americans, whose ancestors were captured, shipped to our shores on slave ships and for two centuries were property, bought and sold for profit.  It has taken us a century and a half following the Emancipation Proclamation and the 13^th amendment to achieve significant advances in civil rights. Still, every time we remove our caps, cover our heart and repeat the pledge, those words both inspire and haunt us, “liberty and justice for all.” 

 I guess this is why I am disturbed that our government is suddenly backtracking on efforts to include people who are not like us.  I am disturbed that our government mistakenly scooped up Kilmar Abrego Garcia who is married to a U.S. citizen, father of a 5 year old, living here under the protection of our law and shipped him off with gang members to El Salvador. I am even more disturbed that after a federal judge ordered his return, our government says they can’t or won’t do anything to right the wrong he and his family have suffered. Even though our nation is paying El Salvador $6 million to incarcerate these men, they say it is out of our hands. The Justice Department attorney who admitted the government’s error has been placed on leave by the Administration.

 Who are we becoming?  What are we becoming? 

 The Bible has a lot to say about accepting others and treating them with respect.  “There is no longer Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” (Galatians 3:28).  Jesus always practiced inclusion of the poor, the downtrodden, the racially rejected, the moral outcast. This was largely what got Him into trouble.  He condemned arrogance, greed and injustice of every kind.

 Maybe “liberty and justice for all,” is best summarized in the golden rule that He gave us, another “pledge” we learned as children: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Matthew  7:12).

Good and Evil in the Garden

 The first blossoms and blooms have appeared on the trees.  Seedlings have raised their heads from the soil.  Spring is coming!  There is something therapeutic about digging in the dirt, sifting the soil through our fingers, planting seeds and seedlings that flourish in the sun,

 When I lived in Minnesota, I always had a garden.  I guess it was “our” garden, my daughter and mine. She was seven when we moved to Minnesota. Every spring we would pick out what we would plant and, after I spaded up the earth, we would plant our garden together:  cilantro, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, cabbage.  One year we grew a pumpkin two feet in diameter.  We tried okra, but apparently it needs the searing heat of Texas.   Rhubarb didn’t require planting, it just volunteered itself every year.

 I wasn’t a very good gardener. After the ground was turned and the garden planted, we pretty well left it alone, and it grew. That is what things do in Minnesota.  Long days of sunlight, pleasant summers and occasional rain. Things just grow.

 But, the same conditions that cultivate vegetables also stimulate weeds.  By harvest we had a wonderful crop of both.  Our whole family would visit the garden like children on an Easter egg hunt.   Searching among the weeds we celebrated the discovery of tomatoes, squash, cabbages and a “great pumpkin,” hiding among the weeds. 

 Jesus used a similar image to help us understand the mystery of good and evil in the world: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.  But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away.  When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field?  Where then did the weeds come from?’ ‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.  The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’ ‘No,’ he answered ‘because while you are pulling the weeds you may uproot the wheat with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest.  At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into the barn.’” (Matthew 13:24-29).

 The world is kind of like our gardens. Evil flourishes in the world, like the weeds.  It dominates the news and grabs the headlines. But hiding among the weeds are the vegetables, those things that are good, righteous, wholesome and healthy.  In every situation where it appears that evil will triumph, we find, hidden beneath the headlines, acts that are heroic and sacrificial, acts of forgiveness, kindness, goodness and faith.

 Someday the harvest will come.  When John introduced Jesus, he said, “One is coming who is mightier than I, and I am not fit to untie the straps on His sandals; ... His winnowing fork is in His hand to thoroughly clear His threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into His barn; but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”  (Luke 3:16-17).

Tinsley's Civil War Novel, Bold Springs, is Free as an eBook on Amazon April 1-5. Chosen Best Christian Historical Fiction by Readers Favorite 2022.  

Choosing The Better Portion

 We love celebrating birthdays with our grandchildren.  After the candles are blown out and we have all joined in singing “happy birthday,” it is time to cut the cake.  The birthday celebrant gets to choose the “better portion,” usually the corner slice or the one with the most icing.  The younger the child, the more likely they are to make an honest choice.  As we grow older, we defer, out of a desire to be polite or to conceal our gluttony.

 But, really and truly, we all secretly, if not overtly, want the better portion.  Almost all advertising is based on this premise, promising the better portion if we choose their product or their service.  

 In the Bible an interesting scene unfolds in an obscure home on a side street in Bethany, a quiet village just beyond the Mount of Olives, only two miles outside Jerusalem.  It was Jesus’ favorite place to stay when he was visiting the holy city.  The house was the home of two sisters and a brother: Mary, Martha and Lazarus. 

Dinner was approaching and Martha was doing her best to cook up enough food to feed fifteen people, Jesus, his 12 followers and her own family.  Outside, the men were deep in conversation and, in their midst sat Mary, Martha’s sister.  Finally, Martha had enough.  She burst through the door and demanded Jesus tell her sister to come help in the kitchen.  But Jesus shocked everyone in the room with his response.  “Martha, Martha you are anxious and worried about so many things and Mary has chosen the better portion,” (Luke 10:41).

 I often wonder what happened next. The Bible doesn’t say.  We know that Jesus loved Martha.  John wrote, “Jesus loved Martha and her sister,” (Luke 11:5).  I suspect he got up and helped her.  Surely, he who washed the disciples’ feet would not leave Martha in the kitchen alone.

 This event gives us insight into what we all can learn about choosing the better portion.  We choose the better portion when we turn from worry and distraction to simplicity.  Like Martha, I am often worried about things that never happen.  And, like Martha, we are often pulled in many directions trying to meet obligations.  Mary had chosen simple delight, sitting at Jesus’ feet.  Life should be lived with delight, experiencing God’s pleasure.  Repeatedly the Scripture says that God took great pleasure in Jesus: at his birth, his baptism and his transfiguration. Jesus said it is the Father’s pleasure to give us the kingdom! (Luke 12:32). 

 Every day I meet people who are living life out of obligation or delight.  I see it in the faces and hear it in the voices of workers at the fast food restaurants or employees and various businesses.  Some are doing what they do out of obligation. They don’t want to be there. They don’t like their job or the people they work with.  Others are working out of delight, enjoying what they do, happy to be of service.  Every day I can choose to live my own life out of obligation or delight.

 Most of all, Mary chose the better portion because she chose Jesus.  I often wonder what Martha and Mary remembered about that day Jesus visited.  Martha would remember a frustrating day full of obligation, the hot kitchen and the stress of entertaining her guests.  Mary would remember Jesus, the look in his eyes when they met hers, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand and the words that he spoke.  What do we remember at the end of the day?  What will we remember at the end of life’s journey? Are we choosing the better portion?

What We Learned From Covid

 It is hard to believe it has been 5 years since Covid brought the world to its knees. On March 21, 2020 my wife and I invited a group of our neighbors to bring their lawn chairs and meet in our driveway.  Ten of us showed up and positioned our chairs 6 feet apart.  A few had met, but most did not know each other.  Our neighborhood was typical of most suburbs. We passed each other coming and going to work, then disappeared into our garages.  We occasionally saw each other walking our dogs, but we rarely spoke. Faces might be familiar, but we didn’t know each other’s names. But that Saturday was different.  Under the ominous cloud of the Coronavirus, our neighbors were hungry to meet each other, to talk and to share.

 The group included a widow in her 70s, two young couples in their 20s, a couple in their 30s recently moved from Philadelphia and a couple in their late 40s, recently married and adjusting to a blended family.  My wife and I had been married more than 50 years. The gathering was not somber. There was much laughter. One couple brought gifts of toilet paper with a card: “Just a little something to show that we got your back.”  But there was a serious undercurrent, not knowing what comes next. We each introduced ourselves and shared how the COVID crisis was affecting us and our families. At the end, I led the group in prayer.

 Five years later many who assembled that day have become like family.  The two couples in their 20s are now in their 30s. One couple has given birth to 2 bright boys.  The other had a beautiful daighter.  The teenagers who were home have grown up, gone off to college and are finding their way.

 We learned some lessons during Covid. We discovered that the place to which we can turn in a crisis is to God and to one another. We discovered that more than big government, more than money, we need people. We need our families.  We need our neighbors, and we need God.  Instead of seeing a society implode in anger and frustration and chaos, we watched people step up to stand in the gap.  We looked for ways to encourage one another, to support each other. Everyone wanted to help. 

 Jesus taught us this amazing truth about human nature centuries ago when an arrogant young lawyer asked him, “Who is my neighbor?”  He replied by telling the story of the Good Samaritan. Across the ages in every culture where the message of Christ has been told, that story has enabled people to overcome and withstand the most severe catastrophes.  Instead of “passing by on the other side,” instead of just thinking about our own interests and concerns, we must stop and help somebody for whom we can make a difference.

 One of my neighbors reminded me that often Jesus stopped to help just one. That’s what we needed to do 5 years ago.  That is what we need to do today. That is what we each can do in these uncertain times, like the Good Samaritan. (Luke 10:25-37).

Bill's book, Bold Springs, is Free as an eBook on Amazon March 18-19.  Chosen best Christian Historical Fiction by Reader's Favorite in 2022. 

What We Can Learn From the Birds

 I grew up in Texas, often wakened by the rasp of blue jays outside my window, frequently entertained by mockingbirds with their collection of stolen songs.  Buzzards circled in the sky, high overhead on hot summer days, riding the wind, barely moving their wings.

 When we moved to Minnesota the Canadian geese migrated to and from the fields passing low overhead.  I could hear the wind in their wings. When I visited the Boundary Waters a bald eagle built her nest in a lone tree on a rocky island less than 50 yards from our camp.  She circled overhead, the sun glistening off her white head.

 We owned a beach house for a few years on Galveston Island.  I never tired watching the sea gulls balance on the wind, descending to the shallow surf where they laughed and danced on stick legs. They seemed to think it was hilarious. The pelicans swooped in squadrons over the breaking waves. One or more would suddenly drop in a vertical dive, splash in the surf and return to the sky with an unsuspecting fish.

 In Colorado our house looks out on an open marsh.  The red-wing black birds are already returning to build their nests in the tall grass.  As in Minnesota, the Canadian geese occasionally fill the sky from one horizon to the other. Two sparrows built a nest in our bird house. A pair of Robins selected a low limb in the Aspen out front. Finches and an occasional Chickadee visit our window feeder.

 In every region and every climate birds survive and thrive.  They are masters of the air, the forests, the land and the sea. No wonder Jesus encouraged us to “consider the birds.”

 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26).

 “Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.  Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows,” (Matthew 10:28-29).

 He who cares for the birds of the air will doubtless care for you.  You are of great worth to God.   Look to the birds and listen to their song. 

God's Metrics

We live in a world of metrics. We are obsessed with measuring progress in almost every area of life. The business world has created an entire glossary of terms for measuring CPM (Corporate Performance Management), ROI (Return on Investment), Churn Rate (the measure of customer or employee attrition over a specified time), EBITDA. (Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation and Amortization), to name a few.

Our most recent metric seems to be money measured in the billions and trillions of dollars.  Thousands of Federal employees have been laid off in what DOGE claims to be cost-savings efforts.  The three-year war in the Ukraine seems to have come down to billions of dollars in mineral rights.  A trade war over tariffs has erupted between the U.S., Canada, Mexico and China.

Education has long used measurements to determine a student’s future.  Any student with ambitions beyond secondary education is familiar with the stress and importance of the SAT, ACT or, to enter graduate school, the GMAT, GRE, LSAT and MCAT.

Sports is filled with metrics. Hundredths of a second separate sprinters, downhill skiers, bobsledders and speed skaters on the podium.  PGA golfers are rated by average score, percentage of fairways hit, greens in regulation, putts per round and many others. Baseball is synonymous with statistics: RBI, OPS, BA, BB/K, ERA, etc. The list is long.

 If measurements are so important in other areas of life, it might be good to know God’s metrics. How does God measure success or failure?

Most of us assume that God’s measurements are limited to religion: church attendance, offerings, budgets, building, religious ceremonies and service. Surprisingly, according to the Bible, these things are not God’s primary concern.

The prophets taught that God could care less about religious ceremonies. In Amos, God says, “Even though you offer up to Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings, I will not accept them; …Take away from Me the noise of your songs; I will not even listen to the sound of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

In Isaiah, God says, “I hate your new moon festivals and your appointed feasts. They have become a burden to Me; … when you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide My eyes from you; … Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from My sight. Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, reprove the ruthless, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

When Jesus confronted the religious leaders of his day, he reproved them for focusing on religious disciplines.  “You have neglected the weightier provisions of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.  These are the things you should have done.” (Matthew 23:23).  

Cemetery

 Cemeteries can be fascinating places. The monuments and tomb stones bear record to generations who inhabited the spaces we now inhabit, walked the same streets, climbed the same hills, breathed the same air.  I once walked through the cemetery with my father-in-law and listened as he told stories about his friends and family who were buried there.  My wife and I now visit his grave and her mother’s buried side-by-side in that same cemetery.

 Some years ago, I attended a conference in Boston and stayed at the historic Omni Parker House Hotel.  With a bit of free time on my hands, I ventured outside, crossed Tremont Street and wandered into the Granary Burial Grounds, the third oldest cemetery in Boston established in 1660.  Some of America’s founding fathers are buried here: Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, John Hancock and five victims of the Boston massacre along with Benjamin Franklin’s parents.

 As I wandered among the grave markers I was struck by the contrast.  Those gravestones that were erected in the late 1600s bore images of skulls and cross bones. They appeared stark and painful.  But in the early 1700s something changed. The images were replaced with angels and cherubim along with Scripture quotations. They radiated hope and expectations for heaven.

 I wondered what happened to cause the change.  Why were those buried in the late 1600s interred beneath morbid markers while those who died in the 1730s and later had gravestones symbolizing hope of heaven?  The only explanation seemed to be the Great Awakening.

 The earliest beginnings of the Great Awakening can be traced to Gilbert Tennent who founded a “Log College” In Pennsylvania in 1727 to train Presbyterian preachers.  The “Log College” was later named “Princeton.”  The awakening took wings in the 1730s on the preaching of John and Charles Wesley, the founders of Methodism, and George Whitefield, whose sermons were widely published by his friend, Benjamin Franklin. The Great Awakening changed the spiritual fabric of the Colonies and transformed the way people viewed death.  Death released its grim grip of despair and was replace by the hope of heaven through faith in Jesus Christ.

 Every generation must face its own mortality.  As we age, we must say goodbye to parents, fiends, brothers and sisters. Every generation must find its own faith.  As someone said, God has no grandchildren. We must experience our own spiritual awakening that connects us to the most important event in human history.  As was written 2,000 years ago, “But now Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who are asleep. … O death where is your victory?  O death where is your sting?  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:20, 55-57).  

Bill Tinsley's book of poems, People Places and Things is FREE February 25-27 on Amazon Kindle. 

The Viral Gospel

 The power and potential of anything “going viral” is mind boggling. “Going viral” was once limited to communicable diseases, the kinds that are so easily transmitted that they can rapidly escalate into an epidemic, or, as with Covid, a pandemic.  In our day the term means something quite different.  With the aid of the Internet, email, X, Facebook, Instagram, Whatsapp, text messaging and You Tube, what was obscure can “go viral” and become suddenly famous.

 Facebook went viral in 2004 when Mark Zuckerberg and a few friends launched it from their dorm rooms at Harvard.  Today, more than one billion people use Facebook.  It boasted a market cap in 2019 of over $500 billion and has become one of the most powerful tools on the Internet to catapult others into the “viral” stratosphere.

The Swedish teenage climate activist, Greta Thornberg, was catapulted to fame after she posted her first protest as a 15-year-old on Instagram and twitter. Within a week she gained international attention.  Her actions went viral on Facebook and other media and in December 2019 Time named her the youngest ever “Person of the Year.”

 “Going viral” appears to be a twenty-first century phenomenon. But is it? 

 History documents that the Gospel went viral following the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus.  There was no media campaign.  There were no reporters, no cameras, no photo ops, no internet, no Facebook.  But somehow, Jesus impacted and changed the world.  Growing up in the obscure and infamous village of Nazareth, Jesus’ public ministry lasted only three years.  He walked wherever he went and never traveled more than one hundred miles from his birthplace. When He was crucified, there were no papers to report it, no news teams to film it. But the news spread around the world and is continuing to spread today.  It did so by “going viral.” 

Paul spoke of.”the gospel which has come to you, just as in all the world also it is constantly bearing fruit and increasing, even as it has been doing in you also since the day you heard of it and understood the grace of God in truth.”  (Colossians1:6). And again, “For all things are for your sakes, so that the grace which is spreading to more and more people may cause the giving of thanks to abound to the glory of God.” 2 Cor 4:15, “I thank my God through Jesus Christ ^… because your faith is being proclaimed throughout the whole world” (Romans 1:8).

When the Gospel goes viral, it requires more than posting a few sentences or a video clip on the internet, more than “clicking” and forwarding information.  The Kingdom of God goes viral when lives are transformed by faith in Jesus Christ so that society is saturated with honesty, integrity, justice and generosity.  Changed lives change the lives of those around them. The Gospel has gone viral in previous generations.  It could “go viral” in ours.

A "Christian" Nation

 Throughout my lifetime I have always been grateful and proud of our American reputation as a “Christian” nation that cares for the disadvantaged, the poor and the oppressed.  In 2005 I visited Indonesia following the tsunami that decimated the islands in that region of the world.  I stood on the beach at Banda Aceh and listened to the gentle waves on the shore while the Indonesian people strolled along the jetties. It was a beautiful and peaceful afternoon. Behind me stood a lighthouse that had been erected as a beacon to passing ships. It now stood as a monument to the tragedy that struck on December 26, 2004. The top of the lighthouse towering above me had been blown apart by the powerful surge of water.

Aceh is perhaps the most rigid Muslim state in the world, governed by strict Sharia law. It is ruled by the Koran and the Muslim Imams. It prides itself as the “gateway to Mecca.” Prior to the tsunami Christians were not allowed entrance into the region. But the day the tsunami struck, everything changed. The city of Aceh was virtually wiped out by the massive wall of water.

I was visiting with a group of Americans attempting to assist the Non-Governmental-Organizations that had been allowed into the country to help the people rebuild. Separated from the rest of the world and taught that Christianity is evil, many of the people were asking why Christians were the ones who responded the most to their disaster. President Bush immediately pledged $350 million to help with the recovery. Like many Muslim countries, the people of Aceh equate America with Christianity.

I noticed a woman watching us. She was sitting on her motorcycle. Almost all Indonesians rode motorcycles. The streets were filled with them. For days I had watched them leaving for work in the early morning, weaving their way along the streets, whole families balanced on two wheels, the father driving, one or two children in his lap, the mother behind him with another child. I watched young women, their blue and green hijabs flying in the wind. Through an interpreter I struck up a conversation with the woman.

She asked if we were Americans. We said yes. She told us that she was at this very spot when the tsunami hit. She said it carried her and her two children more than two miles inland. One child was separated and drowned. Her husband and the rest of her family were killed. Only she and her son survived, but he was badly injured. His wounds were infected and he was dying. She said an American doctor came and treated her son and he lived. In spite of her deep sorrow and loss, she smiled, not just her face, but with her eyes, and said, “I want to thank you for coming.”

 Years later, in 2012, I served as pastor of an English-speaking church in Nuremburg, Germany, the site of Hitler’s Nazi rallies and the “Nuremburg laws” that launched the holocaust.  I found a people who were grateful for the American GIs and agencies who helped them rebuild their country after WW II. The recent Executive Order to shut down all U.S. financial aid to the world is disturbing  to me.

 Isaiah clearly described faith that is pleasing to God. “Is this not the fast that I choose:

…  Is it not to break your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into the house; when you see the naked, to cover him; and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?  Then your light will break out like the dawn, and your recovery will spring up quickly; and your righteousness will go before you; the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard,” (Isaiah 58:6-8).

A Healthy Heart

 According to the American Heart Association, “The epidemic increase in heart disease mortality ended in the 1960s or 1970s.” Deaths from heart disease have fallen dramatically over the last 50 years. Heart-healthy alternatives are produced in almost every food category. Restaurants include heart-healthy menus. Smoking has been banned in most public places. Cheerios and oatmeal both claim to help with a healthy heart. Physicians and non-profits promote diet-and-exercise. Nevertheless, both of my wife’s brothers died of heart attacks.  One brother collapsed in his garden. The other made it to a hospital.

I first read Dr. Kenneth Cooper’s book, Aerobics, in 1982. It was a groundbreaking book that opened the eyes of millions to the benefits of aerobic exercise and a healthy diet for a healthy heart. When I visited Brazil, I was fascinated to find hundreds of Brazilians walking and jogging every morning to get in their “Cooper.” The doctor’s name had found its way into Portuguese as a synonym for heart-healthy aerobic exercise.

When I followed Cooper’s regimen, I experienced the benefits: lost weight, increased strength and stamina. Unfortunately, I have not always followed those disciplines, and it shows. Developing a healthy heart requires more than knowledge.

As important as it is to maintain a healthy heart physically, it is even more important for us to develop a healthy heart spiritually. The Bible clearly sets forth the disciplines and characteristics of a healthy spiritual heart. They include gratitude, hope, forgiveness and love. If we discipline ourselves to be grateful every day for what God has done, if we hope when things look hopeless, if we forgive those who injure us, if we love those of other nationalities, ethnicities and languages, like the Good Samaritan, we will have a healthy heart.

But, like our physical heart, having a spiritually healthy heart requires more than knowledge. We may know that we need to be grateful, hopeful, forgiving and loving. But how do you create heartfelt gratitude, hope, forgiveness and love?

In the spiritual realm, this requires a spiritual heart transplant. God must create a new heart within us, something that He is more than willing to do. We are all born with spiritual heart disease. Jeremiah says, “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jer. 17:9). But later he writes, “I will give them a heart to know Me, for I am the Lord; and they will be My people, and I will be their God.” (Jer. 24:7). And in Ezekiel He says, “Moreover, I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh.” (Ez. 36:26).

God sent His son Jesus so that He might create in us a healthy heart. He changes the heart that has grown callous, bitter and resentful into one that overflows in gratitude. Someday our physical heart will beat its last beat and our bodies will die. But the spiritually healthy heart that God creates will live forever.

What Can A Snowman Say?

 Seven and one-half years ago, when we moved into our house, our neighbor across the street was a young man in his twenties.  Three other young men lived with him.  He met a girl.  We had them over for dinner. They fell in love and became engaged.  The other three young men moved out.  The only public gathering we attended during Covid in 2020 was the wedding of our young neighbor and his bride.

 A year later, she gave birth to their first child, Charlie.  Yesterday we watched from our window as two-year-old Charlie and his father built a snowman in their yard.  As we expected, knowing our neighbors, it was a huge snowman, over 5 feet tall, with a wide grin, a carrot nose, button eyes,  and stick arms extended as if waiting for a hug!

 It reminded me of a poem I wrote about snowmen when we lived in Minnesota. 

He stands outside

smiling through the night

smiling though the day

with a wide-eyed gaze from coal black eyes

punctuated by the point of a carrot nose.

 

A blue-stocking cap warms his frozen head

while a red and white scarf flutters in the breeze,

tickling his tummy

softly patted into place by small hands

scooping great scoops of snow

and fashioning his form,

till he stood where he stands,

stick arms spread in a welcome greeting

to family and friend and passerby

signifying by his constant cheer

that a child lives here.

 Last week, when a rare winter storm swept the South, snowmen made their appearances in New Orleans, Houston and Galveston.  They are a universal breed, transcending generations, the product of creative imaginations, uniting generations from ages past, a non-digital race that binds our human hearts to one another.  They reach across language, ethnicity, culture and time, created amid giggles, squeals and laughter.  In Minnesota, a snowman can last for months.  In the South, a few days at best. Some of them have already returned to puddles in the yard.  But while they last, they cheer us up and give us hope. 

 It took the birth of a child named Charlie to create our snowman across the street.  Like other snowmen in our neighborhood, he reminds me of one of Jesus’ profound object lessons to his disciples, “Jesus called a little child over to him. He had the child stand among them. ³ Jesus said, “What I’m about to tell you is true. You need to change and become like little children. If you don’t, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” (Matthew 18:2-3).

Remembering Buddy

 About the time I started writing this column in 2009, my wife and I adopted a tri-color Pembroke Corgi that we named Buddy.  We had pets over the years when raising our children, but I wanted my own dog and my wife finally gave in.  We found him at Corgi rescue.  He was picked up by animal control on the streets of Fort Worth, skinny and sick.  How a dog like Buddy could be lost for that long was a mystery to me until he told me his story.  I wrote it down just the way he told it to me and published it as a children’s book, Buddy the Floppy Ear Corgi.  

 I wrote my first column about Buddy on October 29, 2009.  Each year I wrote at least one column about Buddy and what he was teaching me.  We traveled to many places together: Texas, Montana, Wyoming, Minnesota, Colorado and places in between.  We walked hundreds of miles. 

 Once we left him with our daughter who lived 2 miles from our house.  He escaped their backyard and tied up traffic on a busy intersection trying to make his way home.  I was on the road in Nebraska when I got the call from a stranger who rescued him from the frantic drivers who were trying to avoid hitting him.

 When we went fishing Buddy sat in the front of my fishing boat, sniffing the wind, trying to locate the fish.  He fell in once.  We discovered Corgi’s can’t swim.  Fortunately, I was able to pull him b. ack in the boat.

 Several times he went with me to sit by the graveside of my college roommate who was buried in Farmersville, Texas in 1999.  Afterward we would go for long walks in the open fields where he could run free, leaping through the long grass (as much as Corgi’s can leap). We explored the beaches in Galveston.

  Buddy didn’t do any work.   He couldn’t open doors, couldn’t carry anything or hold anything with his paws (beyond a bone or a chew toy).  He wasn’t Buck like Call of the Wild. He couldn’t pull a sled.  But he worked his way into our hearts just by being there, jumping in my lap when I was sad, jumping between us on the couch to make us glad, following me from room to room, introducing me to strangers who wanted to pet him, playing with my grandchildren.

 But Buddy grew old.  His muzzle turned gray.  He couldn’t take long walks anymore. After 14 years, Buddy developed spinal myelopathy.  He lost the use of his legs, and we lost Buddy in January 2022.   We grieved his death as much as we grieved a friend or family member.  We still miss him.

 We loved Buddy, not for what he could do for us, but just because he “was.” 

 Maybe that was his final lesson about God. Maybe that is the way God looks at me.  I can’t do anything for God.  He doesn’t really need me, but He loves me just the same, just because He made me; just because He is and I am.  “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us” (1 John 1:10).  God has declared His love for me, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3).  God loves you.

Mortality and Eternity

 Much of last week was spent eulogizing and laying to rest President Jimmy Carter.  Some of us remember when he was elected during the bi-centennial celebration of our nation, a crucial moment when we were trying to find our way past Watergate.  Our nation was searching for someone who could restore our confidence in the honesty and character of our highest office. Jimmy Carter stepped forward to give us hope.

 He lived to see his 100^th birthday, the oldest surviving President in our nation’s history. He had embraced his own mortality long ago, submitting to hospice care almost two years before his death, facing the inevitable with confident faith and peace.

 We are all mortal.  We will all die.  The Bible says, “For the Lord God himself knows our estate, that we are but dust.  For man is like the grass of the field that flourishes as a flower.  After the wind passes, it is no more, and its place remembers it no longer, but the lovingkindness of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him.” (Psalm 103).  We all want to be remembered.  I suppose that is part of the reason we engage in funerals and obituaries.  But obituaries soon fade and funerals are soon forgotten.  For some, like former Presidents, we engage in lengthy ceremonies.  For a few decades, maybe even a few centuries, historical records and books will bear testimony to their lives.  But eventually.  They will all be forgotten.

 There is something better than being remembered.  According to the Bible we can actually live after our mortal bodies cease. The eulogies for Jimmy Carter were filled with references to his faith.  His grandson read extensively from the Scripture regarding God’s promises.  There is a place where we are never forgotten, a place where we can live, another dimension that Jesus reference repeatedly as “life into the age,”   (eis aionos).   

 The Bible’s promises are clear.  “He will swallow up death for all time. And the Lord will wipe tears away from all faces. And He will remove the disgrace of His people from all the earth.  For the Lord has spoken.  And it will be said on that day, ‘Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited that He might save us.  This is the Lord for whom we have waited.  Let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation,” (Isaiah 25:8-9). 

 Daniel wrote, “Now at that time Michael, the great prince who stands guard over the sons of your people, will arise. And there will be a time of distress such as never occurred since there was a nation until that time; and at that time your people, everyone who is found written in the book, will be rescued. Many of those who sleep in the dust of the ground will awake, these to everlasting life, but the others to disgrace and everlasting contempt. Those who have insight will shine brightly like the brightness of the expanse of heaven, and those who lead the many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever,” (Daniel 12:1-3).

Raising Children Celebrating Family

 We just returned from a 4-day Bahama cruise with all our children and grandchildren, seventeen of us, a gift from our children on my wife’s 75^th birthday. The joy of multiple generations who treasure and value one another is inexpressible. In all generations and cultures, it is the family that forms the foundation for fulfillment. My wife and I were overwhelmed, not just that our children wanted to express their love for us, but that they love each other and want to be together.

 Over the years we learned that nothing is as challenging as being a parent.  Children have no off button.  They cannot be put in the closet like clothes, turned off and parked like cars or placed in a kennel like pets.  They are on a constant quest: poking, prodding, pushing, pulling and climbing. 

 When our children were little, we didn’t know you could strap them down in the back seat. No one told us about car seats. As soon as they got in the car, they looked for buttons to push and knobs to twist.  When I turned on the key the blinkers blinked, windshield wipers wiped, and the radio blared.

 They grew up to be responsible adults.  But the path wasn’t easy.  Every passage brought new challenges: the first day of school, a move from familiar neighborhoods to a new city, puberty, a driver’s license, dating, computer games, technology, college and a career.  Parenting requires a constant learning curve that never stops, even after children are grown and on their own.  Relationships constantly change and adjust. As a parent, you are always entering new and unfamiliar territory.

 I found across the years that there is no “fix it” book for parenting, no “cure-all,” “read this,” or “do this” simple solution.  Every child is different, and every parenting situation has its unique challenges.  But there are some essential tools that make the difference: patience, consistency, authenticity, trust, love, faith, and a listening ear.  Most of us don’t come naturally equipped with these essential tools.  Most of us must learn them and acquire them while we are on the job. And all of us have room for improvement.

 The Bible says that John the Baptist introduced Jesus to the world by “turning the hearts of the fathers to their children,” (Luke 1:17).  Every generation must struggle against the natural desires of the flesh: envy, jealousy, resentment, anger and self indulgence. These attitudes destroy the family. The fruits of the spirit, on the other hand, establish the family: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control,” (Galatians 5:22-23).

 When our hearts are right with God so that we are producing these fruits, we will be good parents.  Then we will be able to fulfill the Scripture’s instruction, “Do not exasperate your children, instead, bring them up in the teaching and instruction of the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:4).