Resolutions-Hindering Habits

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Man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Luke 12:15

December 31st is looming, the traditional time to make reasonable or rash resolutions. By now, many have toyed with adjustments to improve attitudes or atmosphere. But contemplating change is different from resolving to make a change. To “resolve” to live differently is to make a firm decision to do something.

Over the next few weeks, this column will mention a few hindering habits, roadblocks to the reality of an abundant life in Christ. Jesus said, “I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10 NIV). The Greek word rendered “full” or “more abundantly” means “above the common.”

One hindering habit is the love of possessions. Jesus lets followers know that he can shepherd them to the best in life—honoring God and loving fellow earth mates. He tried to help a rich ruler grasp this concept. Here’s their conversation found in Luke 18 and Mark 10.

“Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” The ruler recognized Jesus as an exceptional rabbi, but not as deity. Jesus answered that no one was good except God alone and then recounted some of the old law such as not committing adultery, murder, and theft, and honoring parents. The rich man ignored the invitation to acknowledge Jesus as God and instead focused on the rules he had kept since youth.

The ruler replied that he hadn’t committed any offenses in the ten-commandment- category. Jesus “looked at him and loved him.” He told him to sell all he owned and give the money to the poor. “Then come, follow me.” Upon hearing the answer, “the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.”

Then Jesus commented about life: “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Those who overheard this conversation between Jesus and the rich man wondered aloud, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus answered, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.”

The rich man had asked what he could do to inherit eternal life. Jesus told him what he needed to become to inherit eternal life. Like God, he could become a sympathizer and helper to the poor. This ruler had a tight fist around his bank account, for him crunching numbers was fun. He found it easy enough to be pious, to follow religious rules. Eliminating neighborhood poverty at his expense—that was impossible.

Net Aid gives these definitions of poverty: Extreme or absolute poverty is defined as making less than $1 a day, unable to afford the basic necessities to sustain life. Over eight million die each year from extreme poverty. Those in moderate poverty make only $1 to $2 dollars a day, barely enough to sustain life, not enough for health care or education. Relative poverty is defined as those who live below a national income average.

In 2006 I want to change a habit that hinders. I’m asking God to clip heartstrings attached to belongings. My firm decision is to pare down possessions, to aid the poor and scout for abundant life, one rich with possibilities.

www.cathymessecar.com -- Next hindering-habits column on procrastination.

Celebrating Christmas with American Sign Language

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The Good News in ASL

“Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the LORD.” Psalm 134:2

On the church stage, “Christmas Journey” was acted out in American Sign Language for the deaf audience. For the hearing audience, the script was voice interpreted.

This December as my husband and I watched the excellent production at Woodhaven Baptist Deaf Church, two scriptures came to mind: about lifting holy hands and Isaiah’s prophecy that the deaf would “hear the words of the scroll” (Isaiah 29:18).

Last year, a Woodhaven member invited me to their annual Christmas Drama. In our conversation, the member related how this generation could be the one to more completely fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy that the deaf will hear about the Messiah.

Over 100 sign languages exist in the world. American Sign Language is the fourth language of the United States. Some colleges even offer it for foreign language credit, and more than 23 million Americans are deaf. Gaulledet University’s President said, “Deaf people can do anything . . . except hear.” With clarity, Woodhaven Baptist Deaf Church demonstrated that in the production of a “Christmas Journey.”

As my husband and I watched the drama unfold, we became enamored with the Deaf World where “sign language is spoken.” Dawn Sign Press says the deaf “listen with their eyes,” and “facial expressions and body language say as much as the human voice.”

That night we listened with our eyes, too. And this is what we saw. On stage, a group of Christians planned a trip to the Holy Land. They packed, met at the airport, flew across an ocean and put their feet down in the land of milk and honey.

There, a Jewish tour guide regaled them with stories of the Christ. Near a large tour bus, he told of Gabriel’s announcement, to Mary, the visit to her cousin Elizabeth, and Joseph’s concern when he found out about Mary’s pregnancy. At stage left, the tour guide’s words came to life.

During Act 2, fatigued tourist Fred took a siesta. He dreamed about Jesus’ birth, baptism, ministry, crucifixion, and triumphant resurrection. With precision and pageantry, the cast of 60 enacted Fred’s dreams and convinced us we were in the Holy Land, too. An additional 20 supported the drama—voice interpreters, costume designers, and lighting experts.

Orchestrated songs accompanied the play, and the hearing audience had the double pleasure of hearing the melodies and watching the praise in American Sign Language. The signing of “Breath of Heaven” and “Come as You Are” were especially poetic.

Long ago, at an inspirational musical concert, I sat behind a mother who interpreted for her deaf teenage daughter. The mother’s precious hands told her daughter of Christ’s love. That night, my understanding of “lifting holy hands” broadened. Again this month, thanksgiving arose for the beautiful hands that year round tell the Christmas Story.

During Jesus’ ministry, he literally opened the ears of the deaf. He healed. Today, the Christian Deaf World continues his mending mission. With passion they accept their heart-healing assignment to share the gospel. They lift holy hands and sign Jesus’ story about a stable, a star, a Savior, and a sacrifice.

“In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll.” Isaiah 29:18

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1534 Carol

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CHRISTMAS CAROLS

In December several years back, way back, when J C. Penny’s catalog store took up one corner of downtown Conroe, I ambled toward my car. As I neared my vehicle I heard carols. Thinking one of the downtown stores piped music outdoors for the shoppers, I twisted my head back and forth to discover the instigator of such joyful noise.

Embarrassment colored my face as I neared my car. A week or so earlier, our radio broke, and for some reason the shade tree mechanic directly wired the radio to the battery. I’d turned off my car, but not the fully powered radio. The windows of the Dodge pulsed with the tinkling notes of a jolly Christmas song. The car seemed a living thing and the volume amplified as I neared. I hopped in and flew away like the down of a thistle.

For the most part, Christmas carols bring tidings of joy. But not all carols are about merry gentlemen resting, midnights clear, or the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. One carol is particularly haunting.

The Coventry Carol, written in 15 34 by Robert Croo, is a lament. The song honors the Christ Child and the babies killed when King Herod ordered their execution. After the magi saw a defining star in their ever-watched and interpreted sky, they traveled to Judea. They asked King Herod of Jerusalem if he knew where this young child lived, the future King of the Jews.

Seeming solicitous, the deceptive Herod asked for the magi to notify him when this child was found, saying he wanted to worship the baby, too. The wise men eventually found Jesus and worshiped him but didn’t return to Herod with an address. Warned in a dream, they bypassed Jerusalem.

Because of a dream-warning, Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus escaped to Egypt. Herod planned to rule at all costs, and thinking the child Jesus was still in the vicinity of Bethlehem, ordered executions of every male under age two. Foretold in Old Testament prophecy; the horrendous act caused the women to weep for their “children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more” (Jeremiah 31:15). Estimates of deaths range from 20-60.

The Coventry Carol’s words “Lullay, Thou little tiny Child, by, by, lully, lullay” sound like a lullaby, but chronicle Herod’s massacre. Recently, my husband and I attended a concert by Kemper Crabb and band, featuring carols from their Medieval Christmas album/CD.

Crabb remarked before singing the Coventry Carol words similar to these: History tells of the atrocities of Herod and later one period is called by some the Dark Ages. In a thousand years, will our generation be considered the real Dark Age because of all the unborn we have slaughtered? These are some statistics I found when writing this article: Russian abortions surpassed live births in 2005. Americans aborted over a million babies per year for years.

The group then sang the Coventry Carol, “Herod the King, in his raging, Charged he hath this day, His men of might, in his own sight, All children young to slay.” The moment pierced my mother-heart.

When you kiss your babies, your grandchildren and your adult children this Christmas, lift a prayer of thanks to God. Celebrate. Laugh. Enjoy Christmas carols. But through the season, listen for the Coventry Carol. Remember the innocents then and now. “For Thy parting, nor say nor sing, By, by lully, lullay.”

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Los Posadas

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Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:29

Running on our last ounces of energy we needed to rest, we needed to find our motel room.

Late one December evening, my brother, sister and I drove to Arkansas for a family funeral. Because of work schedules, we left about 10 PM and had a five and one half hour drive to reach our destination. We siblings rarely get that much time to visit, and before we knew it we crossed the state line.

Over an hour later, the digital dashboard clock showed 3:30 AM, and we drove into the parking area of a motel where our reserved double room awaited. All talked out, we were ready for slumber and rest.

Los Posadas, meaning the inn, is a traditional festival of Mexico that reenacts the searching-scenario of Joseph. In Bethlehem of Judea over 2,000 years ago, Joseph and the full term Mary hunted for a place of rest. The timing or mission was not of their choosing. The Roman government required each person to return to the town of their ancestry to be taxed.

Bethlehem, packed with the obligated, didn’t have room for one more citizen, not even a woman in labor. Innkeepers shook their heads. But Joseph, bent on finding a place to nest, kept inquiring about lodging. Finally, someone pitied the burdened man and woman and pointed toward an animal shelter.

Los Posadas is remembered in Mexico and now in the states through a house-to-house search for a dwelling place. At night between December 16 and 24th , by candlelight a group of adults and children carry figurines of Joseph, Mary and the Christ Child. They walk a community street, and at pre-selected homes, they knock and inquire if they can find lodging. As they reach a house, the group led by Joseph, sings in Spanish “En nombre de cielo. In the name of heaven, I ask you for posada, for my beloved wife can walk no more.”

The homeowners turn the pilgrims away and sing in answer, “This is not an inn, keep walking. I will not open, you might be a thief.” Each night the travelers are refused refuge until the final house is reached. On that night, the innkeeper sings, “Posada I give to you, Holy Pilgrims, and I beg your pardon, I had not recognized you.”

At this last home, the seekers are welcomed for a feast and a candy-filled piñata for the children. The first Los Posadas took place in Mexico in 1538 when missionaries came to the new continent.

On the starry night in Bethlehem, someone gave shelter to the weary Joseph and Mary, and Jesus was born that night. Thirty years later, lodging for the tired and sin sick became central to Jesus’ message. “Come to me all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Like my siblings and I, most have experienced physical exhaustion from journeying. Another kind of weariness comes about from complications brought on by sin in our own lives or loved ones.

Jesus gives long term respite for souls. Jesus is posadas, an inn, a place of rest. He stands ready to lift the baggage from our hearts. The Christ taps on the door and seeks entrance. Welcome Him. He’s the best houseguest you’ll ever have.

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Jesus is Jubilee

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An invitation arrives in the mail. It’s a thick envelope, carefully addressed. The return address simply reads, “Jubilee.”

Befuddled about what type of celebration this could be, the envelope is opened. It seems a 50th year is about to commence. The benefits—all credit card debts are cancelled, the indentured will be set free, and family lands revert to original owners. To participants this invitation spells euphoria.

That imaginary scene resembles the plan in Leviticus 25 where God set in motion the blessings of a Jubilee year. God intended relief every 50th year. At half-century marks, God intended debts be forgiven, servants freed, and farmlands to lie fallow.

Jubilee spelled rest. For those living under the Mosaic Law, at least two reasons existed for this 50th year celebration. If a family succumbed to misfortune, the year of Jubilee provided opportunity for restructure, leveling opportunities for success.

Often the indebted became ordinary servants for fellow Hebrews, assuring the poor of at least shelter and food. However, at the beginning of Jubilee, they were released from the work arrangement.

Also in the fiftieth year, land was not farmed and reverted back to original owners. God wanted his people to remember that “the land must not be sold permanently because the land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants” (25:23). Occupants only. Not owners.

Isaiah prophesied about a jubilee Savior, a “good news” king to the poor and the brokenhearted. This king would set captives free. The time of these events was proclaimed as the “year of the Lord’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1-2).

Near the beginning of Jesus’ ministry on a Sabbath day of rest, the Christ (Anointed) read from a scroll the words of Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news.”

His message arrived for the bankrupt, those in bondage to sin, and the spiritually blind. Further, Jesus said to them, “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:16-21). Jesus is Jubilee.

Matthew Henry writes that “jubilee” or “jobel” signifies a particular sound of the trumpet, “distinguishable from any other.” This sound went forth at the end of the Day of Atonement when God reconciled with man.

In the Savior a continuous jubilee is celebrated. Through Jesus, God spelled out “peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

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Star of Bethlehem

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STAR OF BETHLEHEM

“We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matthew 2:2

December 23, 2004, my husband and I drove to Rudder Auditorium in College Station, TX for Rick Larsen’s presentation on the Bethlehem Star. Mr. Larsen advises, “Arrive early.” Even two days before Christmas, the 2,500 seat auditorium quickly filled to near capacity.

Through centuries, skeptics, believers and the curious wondered about Matthew’s biblical account of the star. Lawyer and law professor Rick Larson presides over The Star Project, a non-profit organization. Through multimedia and “seen by tens of thousands in the U.S. and Europe, Larson leads you sleuthing through biblical and many other historical clues.”

Larsen pilots “a computer model of the universe across the skies of 2000 years ago.” During the display, participants “see the striking celestial events the ancients saw.”

Key players in Larsen’s conclusions are Johannes Kepler, computers and the gospel of Matthew. Kepler, a brilliant mathematician living 1571-1630, published the Laws of Planetary Motion. The Laws are still in use today by NASA, the European Space Agency and others.

Only after many days spent on calculations could Kepler draw a specific nighttime sky. Today, in mere heartbeats, computer software, using Kepler’s configurations, can chart the 2000-year-old sky over Judea. Pick a date, time and location and turn the computer loose.

Astrology claims celestial bodies exert forces and influence humans. The Bible states God directs the affairs of men, but does place signs in his created heavens, messages from the Almighty.

“There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars,” said Jesus (Luke 21:25). Over 2000 years ago, eastern Magi scholars saw a sign-star, eventually leading them to Bethlehem and Jesus. The gospel writer Matthew outlines nine star-criteria that must match any modern conclusions.

Scripture and science shake hands in Larsen’s findings. Rudder Auditorium shows this year are on December 8th and 22nd at 7:00PM, on the Texas A&M campus.

View the schedule for other December Bethlehem Star presentations at www.bethlehemstar.net . This month, Larsen will be in Texas, Kansas and Colorado. His conclusions and findings are also posted at the Web site.

Ronald A. Schorn, Ph.D. founder of the Planetary Astronomy Department of NASA says, “About 99.9% of the Star of Bethlehem stuff is nutty, but this isn't . . . it’s well-researched and reasonable."

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Insignificant?

A quote from the past that addresses today's concerns about traditional marriage:

Question: "In a world without women what would men become?"

Mark Twain: "Scarce, sir. Mighty scarce."

The Golden Bird

A happy heart makes the face cheerful. Proverbs 15:13

One dark and stormy Thanksgiving Day, in my kitchen I wrestled a thawed turkey onto the drain board. The snoozing sun, blanketed by thunderclouds, started to peek from the horizon. Groggy, I set the coffee maker to brewing my wake-up java. Coffee done, I poured a cup and wrapped my hands around the warm mug. I read The Courier, and my eyes made their usual stops along the newsprint pages.

Finally, I could dally no longer, so I poured a second cup of coffee and laid out my turkey tools. Grabbing the kitchen shears, I snipped a hole in the snug plastic wrapper around the turkey, but a shiver of fright ran along my arms when I saw the price tag.

I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. I spewed coffee, and blinked again. What I saw couldn’t be true. The price tag read $39.71, BONELESS, SKINLESS TURKEY BREAST. What? I didn’t want all white meat. I wanted turkey drumsticks, and usually paid nothing for the Thanksgiving turkey. This Tom cost 40 bucks.

Those earlier November ads were clever. Grocers enticed shoppers with an offer of a free turkey. Many gave one away or only charged 39 cents per pound if a shopper bought at least $20.00 of mincemeat, marmalade, and mousse makings.

My mind returned to the plastic encased poultry. Did I really pay $40.00? Maybe he was free after all. I lathered hands, rinsed and dried and went in search of my grocery receipt. Locating it, a quadruple digit leaped out of the number rank. Sure enough, the main course, supposed-to-be-free fowl, had deficited my budget by nearly half a hundred.

It was too late to give “Tom” his freedom. Too late to return him to the grocer. All ready, near Austin, relatives were packing their car, readying to drive to our house. I returned to the kitchen, snipped off his price tag and laid it aside.

Once more, I began to cut the plastic away from the turkey, I consoled myself that at least I’d bought a boneless skinless breast, and we’d have prime turkey. But no. Under the fancy price and phony label was a Pilgrim-plain, bone-in, drumstick-protruding turkey.

Through the rest of dinner preparations, like a neon sign, the $39.71 price tag flashed in my mind. I decided to keep my secret. I corralled my thoughts and shut down the complaint department and ordained “thanksgivings.”

By noon that day, pies were sliced, flaky rolls huddled in an old bun warmer, and a quarter cup of real butter melted on a mound of mashed potatoes. I lifted the browned, “golden,” bird from the oven. He preened on a silver platter.

At our feast table, guests seemed to enjoy cranberries, carrots, and costly turkey. His price tag intruded in my mind once more, and each taste of turkey felt like swallowing half dollars, ca-ching, ca-ching.

I consoled myself. Someday, I’d memorialize this old bird in a story. He could outlive the gravy and the clan. I recalled other renowned fowl—Daffy and Donald Duck, Chicken Little, and Tweety Bird. But I especially remembered the goose that laid the golden eggs.

My Thanksgiving bird might join the ranks of other famous fowl. He might earn his keep after all. Someday, Tom Turkey might even make a name for himself.

The cheerful heart has a continual feast. Proverbs 15:15

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Cultivating Thanksgiving

"Don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines."
Leroy Satchel Paige

I reached into the linen closet and pulled out a “tradition.” If you read this column in past years, you may recall our family custom. We use a new tight-weave cotton sheet for our Thanksgiving tablecloth, and guests write a note of thanks with permanent Sharpie markers
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Reading praises written on the makeshift cloth, I see that they chronicle our family-trek. Matrimony added new family members. A baby’s arrival was announced one year, and by the next November she was five months old. Toddlers’ artwork stands out, and preschooler penmanship progressed from ABCs written backwards to perfect spelled thanksgivings.

Gratitude is more than good manners. Expressing thanks is choosing to see what is good. Even when the sky is falling, I can be thankful for Chicken Little’s warning.

In a wealthy society, people are surrounded by many manmade objects. Many citizens are generations removed from the slower paced farm life where man interacted with God in growing food. We’re better at sniffing Starbuck’s coffee than smelling roses.

To cultivate gratitude, give yourself a thanksgiving-workout. Go outdoors. Don’t have anything plastic in sight. Just go out in the fields with God. Breathe deeply. Look up and absorb the enormity of the heavens. Bend low and peek at tiny blades of browning weeds. Watch while autumn bugs maneuver their grassland forest. And give thanks.

If a trip into the country or backyard isn’t possible, follow the psalmist’s lead and thank God for your life. “I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well” (Psalm 139:14).

How often am I grateful for toes that balance or for the bottom of my feet, long lasting and sturdier than tire-tread? For ambidextrous hands, sense of smell, emotions, and muscles -- I forget to give thanks for this physical body that propels me through life. But I tend to complain when an ailment interferes with proper function.

Last year after Thanksgiving, I heard from reader Judy Bowyer in Garland, TX, one of the 4,000 receiving the column by e-mail. She adopted our tradition and wrote: “I have to tell you my success story about the tablecloth. Before Thanksgiving, I went to Linens & Things (because I had a coupon!) to look for a sheet for my ‘memories’ tablecloth.

“But while there, I found they had a sale on quilts and I had a sudden inspiration. My home lends itself to country cozy things. I chose a twin sized quilt that had patchwork square designs, but were in light colors. . . . I placed it on the table and provided the permanent pens for remarks to be written . . . . The signing of the quilt was a huge success and I have no doubt will become one of our many ‘traditions.’"

At the Messecar house in a few days, I’ll spread our keepsake cloth on the dining table. In 2003, my dad’s entry on the tablecloth was Psalm 118:24. “This is the day the Lord has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.” Delighting in Jesus, salvation, and another sunrise is good advice. Happy Thanksgiving.

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Veterans Day-God's Storehouse

John Kline, former sergeant and squad leader in WW II, kept a diary of his experiences during the Ardennes Offensive, commonly called the Battle of the Bulge, fought December 16, 1944 -- January 28, 1945. For many years he kept the hand-written 15 pages in a cigar box. Later, he reconstructed the three days he fought and his capture; his diary may be read on the Internet.

More than one million fought in this battle: 500,000 Americans, 55,000 British, and 600,000 Germans. Casualties were some of the highest in WW II, with the official US total reaching 80,987, including wounded, captured and dead. British casualties were 1,400. The Germans suffered 81,834 casualties. The scared and nervous, age 19 Sergeant Kline, heavy machine gun squad leader, said he could “personally confirm that a snow covered tree stump will actually move. That is, if you stare at it long enough.”

After several days of treacherous fighting, Sergeant John Kline was captured and taken as a prisoner of war on December 19th. This began over four months of captivity in which he walked a total of 525 miles. He was “sheltered” for about five weeks of that time, lost 50 pounds, and was not ambulatory when liberated.

For those still engaged in the battle, it raged on into a snowy January, the coldest on record for the Belgium/German border. Sub zero temperatures froze fuel and feet. Tanks and trucks were started every half hour to avoid oil freezing. Many historians believe the bitter weather actually prevented even more casualties. Perhaps their assessments coincide with what God said about himself.

God spoke with Job, revealing the forces he sets aside for perilous times: “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle?” (Job 38: 22, 23).

By Friday the 13th in April, an American soldier came into John Kline’s line of view and held out chocolates. The young soldier knew his grueling ordeal had ended. Moved to a field evacuation hospital, he began his journey of gaining weight and strength. Leaving the medical tents, he flew to a General Hospital in Paris, France. He then flew home to the states, where he remained in an Indianapolis hospital for an additional two weeks of observation.

On May the 20th, he returned to his hometown of Terre Haute, Indiana. He got off the bus 12 blocks early thinking “I’m home. I’m home.” He walked and ran the rest of the distance to greet his wife, and to see his nine month old son, Teddie, for the first time.

In 1999, John Kline joined a group of 32 WW II veterans who returned to Germany. At a prearranged meeting, they greeted former German soldiers. Warmth and friendliness prevailed, and after exchanging stories, one German said with tears in his eyes, “It is hard to believe that we each stood up in the Ardennes and tried to kill each other."

It is my belief if mothers’ prayers about wars prevailed, there would be no more clashes between rulers. Please God, shorten the times we fight among ourselves. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. Reach deep into your storehouses, the ones preserved for days of battle.

To all who served, thank you and Happy Veterans Day.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

Teeth Marks in Apples

Shopping in the supermarket earlier this week, I glanced around the apple bins. When I found our favorite variety, I looked for the choicest fruits. The apples were in slanted containers, within easy reach of children. Quite a few Red Delicious and Gala apples had tiny teeth marks.

I’ve witnessed this sneaky sampling by children. When a parent is busy bagging cucumbers or carrots, their hungry preschooler spots a shiny apple. Apples are to eat, right? The child bites into the luscious fruit before dad or mom spies the misconduct. Teeth buried in apple skin, they are told, “Put that back.” The fruit isn’t ruined completely, but no longer is it perfect.

In the beginning, when Adam and Eve lived in the Garden of Eden which meant “paradise,” perfect harmony prevailed. Ideals existed for man and woman, llamas and lions, birds and bees. But, through calculated plans, an evil presence destroyed perfection.

During the creative process, God surveyed his daily handiwork and “saw that it was good.” After gathering the seas into basins, exposing land, fashioning light rays we see and light rays we don’t see, God “saw that it was good.” When man and woman and all the elements of earth were completed, “God saw that it was very good” (Genesis 1).

Faultless, Adam and Eve lived in the garden of God. But a spoiler entered the perfect scene, and deceived the man and woman living in paradise. Satan twisted the truth. The woman and man believed his words rather than God’s, and sin entered the world. Satan said they could eat a forbidden fruit and not be harmed. Said they could sink their teeth in it and not be tainted. Satan lied.

After a few generations, God gave written laws to help people reconnect with truth. God gave moral and civil laws through Abraham’s lineage. He gave standards. He drew lines in the desert sand. The laws were perfect, but people found themselves imperfect. Keeping every law was simply impossible.

From Genesis to Malachi, the Old Testament books, God left inspired stories of partial successes and failures. A reading of those accounts reveals how much help is needed to live upright. Human strife is constant. Current, evening news discloses that nothing has changed about human nature in thousands of years. The fruit is spoiled. It has teeth marks in it. The word of God tells how fresh fruit is grown.

I realize that not everyone believes the Bible. Some think it is an ancient book with no relevance to today. I’ve heard this question, “How could any book written so long ago, apply to our lives today?” The answer lies in the author. The words weren’t dreamed up by a Neanderthal man. The Creator inspired writers to pen events that would stand the test of time, stand the test of cultures, and stand the test of every philosophy. Creator God who knows us better than our closest relative, left a guidebook.

I am in awe that God told a writer the story of creation. And that writer recorded dialogue between God and the first man and woman. And when Eve had her first baby, her words of love are on a page in black and white. About relevancy of the Bible, Corrie Ten Boon said she marveled that “the ink was dry on the pages.”

The answers to the basics of life are in the Bible. God’s ordained pattern for love, sex, and marriage is in the Bible. By reading the Bible, many of the life style issues of today could be viewed from God’s perspective.

In Jesus Christ, God promises a fruit that is perfect, that has no teeth marks in it. To those who seek and find him he gives the unspoiled fruit of the Spirit.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. (Galatians 5:22-25).

Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

The Measure of a Life

This week, Rosa Parks died in her sleep, a courageous woman who brought attention to many inequalities. In 1955 in Montgomery, Alabama, a white bus driver demanded Ms. Parks vacate her seat on a bus for a white passenger. She refused. To give in, she would have violated her conscience.

Ms. Park’s passing reminded me of Abraham Lincoln’s life and final days. Carl Sandburg author of Abraham Lincoln, the Prairie Years and the War Years, recounts from historical documents the last hours of Lincoln’s life.

On Good Friday 1865, Mr. Lincoln, wife Mary and two friends attended a play at Ford’s Theater. An assassin entered their private box and mortally wounded the President by firing a one-shot brass derringer propelling a lead ball less than a half inch in diameter. Charles A. Leal, a 23-year-old assistant surgeon, gave immediate aid. Through mouth to mouth resuscitation and other measures, Mr. Lincoln breathed.

Unconscious, the President was carried onto 10th street. Across from Ford Theatre, a man standing in a doorway with a lighted candle beckoned the entourage into his home. The President was placed in a rented room upon a plain walnut bed, padded by a “cornhusk mattress resting on rope lacings.”

His condition steadily worsened through the night. Dawn found Mr. Lincoln surrounded by three devoted doctors. As his pulse slowed, breathing became more labored, and the end drew near. Surgeon General Barnes had his finger on Mr. Lincoln’s carotid artery. Dr. Taft’s large palm lay across the President’s chest. The young Charles Leal never seated himself, but stood by the President all night, most often holding his right hand, keeping his index finger on his pulse.

Later, Leal explained that just before departing this earth, recognition and reason sometimes returns to those who have been unconscious for hours. Leal said he determined to “hold his right hand firmly within my grasp to let him know in his blindness that he was in touch with humanity and had a friend.”

Rosa Parks and President Abraham Lincoln lived with adversity before and after they acted for justice and freedom. Ms. Parks was arrested because she defied an unjust law, but in later years was honored for her courage. President Lincoln, a key figure in slavery abolishment, reaped both love and slander.

On September 22, 1862 Abraham Lincoln signed a Proclamation saying that on January 1st of 1863 all slaves would be “forever free.” Godly changes in society rarely come without a price. Solomon said, “If you wait for perfect conditions, you will never get anything done” (Ecclesiastes 11:4 NLT). Passivity is the “act” of doing nothing.

A woodsmen proverb says, “A tree is best measured when down.” When life is gone, these questions are often voiced: “What was wrong?” “How did they die?” The better question, the better measure of a life is “How did they live?”

You may contact Cathy Messecar at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

God's Promises

Bad news or good news, which would you rather receive? Most prefer good news. Because of a government clerical error, my friend Paula received a notice from the Internal Revenue Service saying their business owed $36,000 in back taxes. The misunderstanding was resolved, but Paula’s initial reaction was over-the-top hyperventilation. She did feel faint.

Unlike Paula, the Israelites sometimes got unwelcome news because of their disobedience. Often, news about the future came from one of God’s prophets. God made promises to the obedient and disobedient, but the promises varied in degrees of blessing and meted-out justice.

God’s prophecies often arrived amid similes.

On more than one occasion God sent messages through Jeremiah. For several generations, some clans in Israel worshiped idols, and did detestable things such as sacrificing their morals and children. God described them as having traveling feet that walked away from God. They trusted in their own strength.

God characterized these strays as “stunted shrubs in the desert with no hope for the future” (Jeremiah 17:5 NLT). That’s the dry, crusty land where reptiles grow thick skin to survive.

However, God compared a faithful follower to a tree “planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream” (17:8). This tree is portrayed as green and fruit-bearing even in droughts. The tree is personified as not having fears or worries (17:8 NIV). What a portrait.

For me, crop plenty and crop failure is easy to picture. Years ago, I had a fine garden—organic fertilizer, plenty of rainfall, and the perfect amount of sunny days—that produced hefty tomatoes. So many fruits ripened, we set up saw horses and put a sheet of plywood on top to hold the bounty. A good crop from healthy plants.

But this spring my three spindly tomato plants got a late start due to cold mornings. After too much shade and lack of moisture, nibbling worms also bit into the harvest. In July, we picked half a dozen pitiable runts. A bad crop from shriveled vines.

Throughout Jeremiah’s life he delivered prophecies of horror and hope. Although he delivered plenty of bad news, he was privileged to broadcast the very best news: a Savior for all. God pledged: “I will fulfill the gracious promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah . . . I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line” (33: 14. 15).

Most of us, if we’re honest, are a mixture of good and bad, in need of divine nourishment from above. Writer Mary Connealy pens that concept in the words beneath her signature: “Standing on his promises, falling on his grace.”

In her slogan, Mary captures the human drama of deliverance. Brokenness can be healed. Good News has arrived in Jesus. By relying on him, we are “standing on his promises, falling on his grace.”

You may contact Cathy at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Wars and Rumors of Wars

I firmly believe if God allowed mothers' prayers to rule the world, wars would cease.

Or if the love of God ruled in the world, women wouldn't have to plead for wars to end.

News from India reader about Pakistan

Terrible Scenes (First hand information from the quake hit areas)

I am on the wayback to homeland from the land of devastation. Terrible scenes I have seen. Both my body and mind are so upset. I am unable to describe, but feeling.... Is it the shadow of the hell. There are still having earthquakes.

I brought some bundles of food packets and old clothes. I thought I can distribute them one by one. But I couldn't. Before that, the hungry people jumped over it, took the packets grabbing and ate it like anything. Really I was not feeling well, because of the journey, climate and heavy rain. When I saw the people eating food packets, I forgot my illness and I could not control my tears.

Just two ago relief works started at more than 10 villages. Defence people taking control of it. There are many more villages yet to start relief works. Those areas are at the elevation of 8300 to 9000 feet. The smelling of the dead bodies, no helps for the injured people, rest of the people are attacked by the diseases, starvation, and creatures and insects all around.

In a village there are few believers of Jesus Christ. (99% of the entire area is muslims. They are having so much influence with the terrorist groups. So ours (Salem Voice Ministries: http://salemvoice.bravehost.com) is a hidden ministry for teaching the redeeming love of Jesus Christ. I cannot say the details, because of the security reasons of our believers as well as ministers). By God's grace nobody died from the believers. But most of them injured and lost everything. Our volunteers are doing best sevice as much as they can. It is quiet natural that they face neglection from others, even at the need of relief. Prayer supports from the children of our Lord is badly...... badly....... very badly needed. I cannot express more words. Act as the Holy ! Spirit speaks.

Yours in the love of Messiah Yeshua

Pastor Paul Ciniraj
Salem Voice Ministries.
http://salemvoice.bravehost.com

To complain or not...

Do everything without complaining or arguing. Philippians 2:14

“Ain’t it Awful.” Those were the words printed across the top of the chart my daughter Sheryle brought home from Sunday school when she was 10. That day, her Bible teacher emphasized not complaining.

Sheryle attached the chart to the front of the fridge. Vertically, the grid had each family member’s name, and horizontally, the days of the week. She said she would monitor the family. If anyone complained, she’d say “Ain’t it awful” and place a mark by the name of the offender.

I smiled, thinking how much the children needed this lesson. Later Sunday afternoon, I dropped a bowl of cookie dough. Guess who whined? Me.

My daughter, the self-appointed president of the complaint department, said, “Ain’t it awful,” and I received the first black mark on the chart.

Aggravations may arrive in bunches. They often cluster into a single hour, clamoring for attention. Glitches in paper work, a hangnail, or a flat tire. All can seem monstrous.

When frustrations mount, it’s tempting to tattle to someone and gripe about the latest mishaps. Resist complaining because grumbling is contagious. The story of 12 scouts who explored the land of Canaan is in Numbers chapter 14: when the twelve men returned to their families, ten complained about giant warriors in the land. They in turn “made the whole community grumble“(vs. 36).

Griping focuses on what is wrong, instead of on what is going right, the blessings from God. Charles Hodge says, “The really happy man is one who enjoys the scenery when on a detour.” This past week my can opener disappeared. I literally opened cans with a stout knife and metal meat mallet. Do not try this at home. The good about that situation: I had food. I had tools, and I didn’t even nick a finger.

In that same week while driving in heavy traffic, a fire ant assaulted my sandaled toes. I endured his stinging complaint for nearly a mile before it was safe enough to eliminate the problem. A blessing to focus on: one less fire ant in the world. Sorry, fire ant lovers.

So many times in preaching, teaching and writing, problems are identified, but solutions are not offered. The apostle Paul offered remedies to tetchy problems. When he wrote his letter to the Philippians he was in a Roman prison. Early in his correspondence he said, “Do everything without complaining or arguing.” Paul was under guard, confined, restricted, incarcerated, but again and again, at least eight times, he encouraged the Philippians to rejoice.

Near the end of Paul’s letter, he gives the antidote to complaining: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (4:8). He also gave credit to God for enabling him to say, “I have learned to be content in all circumstances” (4:11).

I taped another “Ain’t it awful” chart on my refrigerator — a reminder to think about the good in life, even if detour signs go up this week.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

Storm Surge

Storm Surge

The boat rocked. Waves slapped its wooden hull. The men on board lunged with the craft, stances unsteady. Streaks of electricity split the charcoal skies, bringing the prospect of even more danger. One direct hit to the mast and they were going down.

The stormy night, beyond their control, spewed water into the hull of their boat. If a massive wave came along, no human strength could stop the boat from capsizing. Fishing nets they could mend and manage, but the roiling lake grabbed the fishermen’s imaginations and took them on a spin of terror.

The men clung to the boat’s rigging, hoping for the storm to abate. But the storm didn’t go away. Instead, their reasons for alarm increased when what seemed to be a ghost appeared above the water surface. They wanted the approaching phantom to disappear. Blinking water from their eyes, shaking their heads, they tried to banish the ghost from their vision.

The supposed apparition didn’t go away, but spoke to them with a familiar voice — the voice of Jesus. His soothing voice offered hope to his fishermen followers, “Take courage.”

His presence and words seemed to say, “I’m here now. Cheer up. I’ve got enough courage to go around, and besides all that, I control the fury of storms.” After identifying himself to his disciples, Jesus again urged them “Don’t be afraid. Then he climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed” (Mark 6:50-51).

When the disciples thought they saw a ghost, they despaired, because false spirits create doubts and fear. Fear tends to over-cloud hope. Charles Hodge says, “Fear is the darkroom where negativity is developed.”

On the Gulf Coastline of Texas where we live, the term “storm surge” is in the news again. It means a productive landmass is temporarily overcome by seawater and robbed of normalcy. Storm surges or bad news can arrive at any time, due to weather, a bad health report, or a rumor of war.

The psalmist declared that when he called, God made him “bold and stouthearted” (138:3). He can and will do the same for today, no matter what is in the near future. Take a deep breath and exhale it in prayer, then take courage from the Savior. One of his specialties is climbing into rocking boats and calming storms.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Never again

We're experiencing rolling black-outs due to Hurricane Rita, and as common, God has pulled me to the blackboard. There are lessons I'm still learning. One of the lessons involves a question I will ask my closest Christian friends, the other is an exaggeration I will try not to use anymore.

The media has done a fine job of portraying the suffering. These last few days in Texas have been some of the hottest we experienced this summer--but it's fall all ready. The killer heat is slaying people, literally. The extremely frail, the ill, young, and old, cannot live through this heavy heat without air conditioning and some way to cool down.

Last evening at our church facilities, we readied a meal before Wednesday night classes. The food was cooked by moving it to four consecutive places, because of the black-outs. Just when the food was prepared and hot (from the fourth ovens), off went the power, so nearly 60 Christians and guests ate hot and steamy chicken spaghetti, veggies and homemade bread in the hot and steamy dark.

Good cheer prevailed, and time after time I heard one person ask another, "How are you? Do you have power?"

This is a question I plan to adopt. It's a question Christian's could ask each other throughout the year. A few Sundays ago, Beverly G. said in Sunday school, "I don't care for that phrase 'plug into God'. Christians are plugged in. The problem arises when we turn off the appliance."

So, in my adopted question, "Do you have power?" I'll really be asking myself and others are you "walking in the light?" are you "recharging through Jesus?"


Now, for the statement I will not be saying anymore. I've seen the devastation caused by hurricanes to homes and businesses. Strewn over miles and marshes are treasures renamed debris. We southern coastal women repeat a cliche about cluttered houses, homes that are structurally sound, but homes that we haven't tidied up in a few days. I've witnessed the suffering of my sisters and seen their sanctuaries spread over treetops and blacktop. I'll steer away from the overkill cliche from now on. When my house isn't as clean as I like, I'll avoid saying, "My house looks like a hurricane hit it."

We made it

We're safe and all our family is well. At 2:00 PM Saturday, the sun has peeked out. We're only getting local coverage, so we don't know how much damage was done to the folks in the direct path of the storm.

One family member is a police officer and expects to be on duty for several days. Officials want Southeast Texans to stagger their returns. Most Houston schools are closed until Wednesday.

Thank you for your prayers. We're in good shape here, a few limbs down, but all is good.

We had family strewn through the house in odd roosts. At 2:45 AM this morning my birthday-son was in the recliner next to me; I was stretched out on the sofa. The wind and rain Rita-brew were mixing with our hot humid air. Gales began. I reached out and touched my firstborn and reminded him that 35 years ago, I was in a hospital bed and he was in a crib beside me. A nice moment. A genuinely nice son.

When did we flip all those calendar pages? Where did the time go?

10:30-so far all is well

In my home, the TV is rarely on through the day, but of late it's been on almost non-stop because of monitoring Rita.

Of course the reporters cover the human dramas that a storm churns up. Churches, schools, individuals and communities have opened up their facilities and homes to those stranded without gas and with mechanical problems.

"I was a stranger and you took me in." the words of Jesus.