The Kingdom of God is here and now...

The Kingdom of God is here and now... I've said that to myself now about 5 times... Every time I say it the more excited I become...

My name is Michelle, my blog style is probably very different from the others written on this page... It is a bit intimidating being among such awesome inspiration and revelation... However, I'm up for the challenge... After all,The Kingdom of God is here and now!!!

What an awesome time in history this is for the sons and daughters of God. The spiritual realm and physical realm is under such distress and we as the body of believers have a front row seat... I come to you today with a word of encouragement !!! Remain faithful and do not become weary in well doing... Saints of God, this is the season for the harvest...This is the time for the body of believers to put into practice what Jesus spoke in Luke 4:18-19(nkjv)...

"The spirit of the Lord is upon Me, Because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor;He has sent Me to heal the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives And recovery of sight to the blind, To set at liberty those who are oppressed;To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."

All I can say is WOW!! We are placed strategically in our cities , towns, jobs, etc..for this very reason. Jesus has prepared the way and sent us to the people that need to hear the good news. At the time of our salvation saints, we received the awesome gift of eternal life and a life time partner and guide... "The Holy Spirit!". Because The Spirit of the Lord is upon every believer you are anointed!!! You/we were recruited into the service of the Lord. The Kingdom of God is here and now. So, my question is this: Saints what are we waiting for? There are people dying with out Christ, there are needs all around us. It's our responsibility to disarm the spirit of infliction, poverty and wickedness. Jesus never said it was going to be easy. You're going to be considered odd, different... So what!!Leave your reputation behind!!!Saints we need to call things as if they were!! People may ask you, "Who do you think you are??" Your response will be a son/ daughter of The Living God!!

With the kingdom ever present all that's done in the name of the Lord is for the building up of His kingdom. Our purposes are becoming greater in these days, I sense in my spirit the urgency of the Fathers cries for sincerity in His servants, for a fresh passion ignited by the realization of His cross and his inevitable return.There is much to accomplish in our short visit here on earth with not much time to waste. All this laboring we are doing over the Saints, and all of our own personal struggles are for God's purposes, and the purpose of the building up of His Kingdom.

So rise up!! All this "stuff" we are dealing with is for something!! Hooray!!

The Kingdom of God Is?

The word "kingdom" conjures up the image of a castle overlooking a sprawling landscape; distant peasant homes; smoke curling above the chimneys and horse drawn carts full of hay. The King, standing on his balcony surveying a pastoral scene unfolding with lush green forests, sculptured hills, and a courtyard of cheering subjects. These are the elements of a full-length Disney feature.

Until the oppressor of our soul is bound and then tossed into the lake of fire, our glorious kingdom suffers violent attacks. Like the medieval infantry using catapults and flaming arrows, the battlefield engulfs the peaceful citizens, engaging them in a fight against evil - Christians at war.

As you survey your personal hamlet in the King's eventual domain, maybe you see injustice and evil. It tugs at your heart because you have a "mission" in God's kingdom; one for which he gifts you, calls you and prepares you - that is if you are willing to count the cost and be molded on the potter's wheel.

As a short-term missionary, I have seen some very profane recesses of our earthly home. The most disturbing to date, were the slums of Londrina in Southern Brazil.

The last time two times I was there, my team visited churches that held meetings in these slums - or should I say, sprawls of lean-tos, cardboard boxes and tin shacks on the outskirts of town.


It was there that we met Joséanna, just 19-years-old. Her father had abandon her and her mother for a life in another city. She hadn't seen him in about seven years. Her mother had become accustom to the way of life in these difficult and dangerous surroundings - but longed to be with her family up north.


My friend Pastor Erinaldo invited "José" to come and stay at his home while her mother went to see if she could find work up north where it was warmer.


Joséanna (that's her in the blue dress on the right) quickly fell into family life in the little apartment over Poco de Agua Viva Igreja (Fountain of Living Water Church). She was polite and happy. She helped serve meals, walk the dogs and ate whenever there was food offered.


A few days after I had arrived, I felt like we should get her some clothes so that she could look for a job. The pastor and his ever present clan (pictured above) took us to the mall which took two trips in his Ford KA. There we bought her an outfit, perfume, and make up. She cried as the ladies brought different outfits to dressing room.


After we returned to the pastor's house, we sat around talking about Jesus, our families, life in America and I learning Portuguese. I excused myself to prepare for my evening sermon (HERE is that story). As I passed Joséanna's room, through the crack in a slightly opened door, she knelt there on the quarry tiles, sobbing and almost whispering, "gloria deus - obrigado senhor - obrigado pi." She was thanking her Father, and giving glory to her Lord and Savior.


Later that evening, I was standing on the platform during worship. There she was in the front row - her eyes closed and her hands extended towards heaven. At first she simply sang the words in Portuguese. Then an amazing thing happened. She began to praise God, but this time in English; a language she did not know. I will never forget her words that night.


She sang, "Lord Jesus, you are great and mighty, you have not for gotten your daughter and left her to die. Lord Jesus you are great and mighty - Lord Jesus you are great and mighty and your Kingdom has come."

White Picket Fence

The kingdom of God is like…. So many parables come to mind if you are familiar with the scripture. Jesus says the kingdom is a farmer sowing seed, a man hunting treasure, a woman kneading dough, fishermen casting a net, a man forgiven a debt, a wedding guest who forgot his jacket, virgins waiting for a bridegroom, a landowner being generous. It is like seed, yeast, pearl, fish, banquet, vineyard; it all seems so random and unconnected. I used to sing a song about how the kingdom is not about food but righteousness, peace and joy. Perhaps this is why the disciples were always so confused.

I have a story about the kingdom of God. I think the kingdom is a bit like the story in Shriek where all the “unusual” come to Shriek. Or maybe it is like that old Christmas classic, about the misfit toys that save Christmas. There was a little church in Pegram TN that felt that it was a bit like the land of misfit toys. We all were hurt and wounded but we came together and advance the kingdom with love and care.

One of the ways we did this was to give free breakfasts. As Pastor, my theology said that we were supposed to feed the hungry. However, it didn’t say that we were supposed to only feed those that had no food – it just said feed the hungry. Every Sunday morning I made waffles. We fed some of the top songwriters in Nashville and we fed a man on a bicycle who had slept in the park all for free, just to show love.

But I see the kingdom of God as a white picket fence. No I am not thinking about a house in the country with a white picket fence where life is idyllic. I am thinking about a time I was given direction.

My daughter was working on a project for school and was at a friend’s house. I didn’t know where this girl lived. We were new to the area living on a farm on a narrow winding Tennessee road. The girl lived about 20 miles away. I got on the phone with the mother who was going to give me directions.

She said go to the school, and then drive past it. Okay, that was easy. I knew how to do that. Then she said go past the grocery store and turn left on Merrylog Lane. Up until this point, I sort of knew where she meant. She continued, at the end of Merrylog turn left. After that she didn’t know the names of the streets but told me to continue until I came to the white picket fence. After that, turn right. From there it was the third road, turn left, last house on the right and a description of the trim.

The white picket fence concerned me. I pictured a small house with a few feet of white picket fence. Maybe it was short as well. I was so afraid I’d miss it. I worried the whole way. I was so afraid I’d miss that fence. I was so afraid if I missed that fence I’d miss the turn and be hopelessly lost.

When I got to the fence it was so obvious. A beautiful four-foot high white picket fence; it went on for probably a quarter mile. It would be impossible to miss it. I turned right after the fence and found the house with no difficulty.

We live in the time of the kingdom has come and yet has not been fully realized. We travel along with directions that God has given us to reach our destination. We look for the full realization of the kingdom of God. In those directions are things like the white picket fence. Something we think we’ll miss. Something we think we may not see and yet when we get there it is as obvious as that fence was to me that day.

The kingdom of God is like a white picket fence. It seems like on the journey of the kingdom of God we will get lost. We may never find where we are supposed to go. But the white picket fences are obvious. We will reach our destination.

The Kingdom of God is . . . The Best Fruit

"Brother, I see you reaching way up for the fruit at the top of the tree - but Jesus said the Kingdom of God is at hand!"

That was part of the word spoken over me by Brother Arrowwood in 1997. At the time I was diligently working to find acceptance in some sort of full-time ministry. Though he'd never met me, he knew what God was saying. I WAS overlooking the small opportunities to minister, and serve my local church and community; all in hopes of getting something big.

Both Jesus and John the Baptist said that the "Kingdom of God is at hand." (Matthew 3:1-3, Matthew 4:17) This week your faithful Kingdom Bloggers will talk about what the Kingdom of God is to them, and why you don't want to miss it!

So what is the Kingdom of God really? It is the spiritual reality that we can access all the power and glory of our heavenly home, right here, right now, and without any conditions other than faith in Jesus.

The kingdom, like our salvation, is "now" (at hand), still being "delivered on a daily basis" (new mercies, gifts, answered prayers), and "not yet;" as an eternal end point. How can it be now, continually on tap, and eternal? I don't exactly know - it's a little over my head.

The real questions are, what is the Kingdom in terms of you and me right now? How do we go about the daily business of work or school, and touch Heaven too?

For me, the Kingdom is an awareness of His presence at all times. It is usually an unseen world that is as alive and active as Times Square on New Year's Eve! It is a realm, not something with an earthly time and place; yet it is as tangible as the computer screen you are looking at right now. It is filled with power and healing and mercy and grace and love and light and His glory! (Sorry, I got a little excited)

Many years ago I read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Laurence. He found the kingdom in his everyday chores as a monk. I later read Watchman Nee's Release of the Spirit where many of his followers would wait for meeting after meeting to experience God. Nee, however; found the presence of God; His Kingdom, was ever present. Nee was an amazing man. It was rumored that the Chinese cut out his tongue so that he could no longer speak of the Kingdom.

It was in reading those two books that I began to pray and actively look for the Kingdom of God. If the Kingdom of God is at hand, then I should be able to grasp it, right?

At first I suppose seeing the Kingdom was like a cat trying to catch a moving flashlight beam - he is never quite sure where it goes when he pounces on it. He is only certain when it is near. It was the same with me. I knew when the Kingdom was near, but I wasn't always sure when I had apprehended it.

Eventually, I would see it in my spirit during prayer, and I could eventually see the realm that surrounded believers - a prophetic sense. And one evening, angels. You don't forget something like that.

The Kingdom of God according to Jesus, is a place, is like a field where seed is scattered and it grows. The Kingdom is growing, alive and fertile. He said it was like a mustard seed, and the yeast that is used in bread, as well as a treasure. (MORE) According to Jesus, it even suffers violence. (Matthew 11:12)

Finally - I have decided that the Kingdom is the place; from this moment on, where everything that Jesus is, said, did, and will do, happens. As a child of the King, I get to see it, participate in it, and enjoy Him in it. HERE is a list to stir up the kingdom in your life.

Jesus said, "I do what I see the Father doing." That is the Kingdom of God Here here on earth. It is touching the spiritual realm, and like a turnbuckle, pulling the power of Heaven closer to our daily lives.

More on the theological Kingdom HERE.

If at first we don't succeed...

First, I want to thank my Kingdom Blogger friends for their thoughts and prayers. H1N1 is nasty. Luckily, my wife and girls have been vaccinated, but I still have been isolated for over a week. I've been fever-free for almost 48 hours, so I seem to be out of the woods. As Three Dog Night said...One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do...

I'm about to start a study on what Jesus actually says and does in the Bible, and I'm really looking forward to it. The study may take me in a completely different direction once I start...or maybe even several...but I feel drawn to do this. As a Christian, I believe such knowledge is vital as framework for anything I say or write. Yes, I've heard and read the story of Jesus most all of my life. From Sunday School classes and Bible School through classes and sermons today, I've been saturated with most aspects of Christ's life. My goal is to get back to the very foundation of what I believe and wish to live from the very words of Jesus Himself.

Sharing Christ is an awesome responsibility and privilege. For some people, sharing the faith is as natural as breathing. Others have a more difficult time because sharing anything, even Jesus, just doesn't come natural. My process has evolved over time and now reflects both a little of me and a lot of refinement. By nature, I'm a debater and have become quite convincing with years of practice. I'm often accused under my own roof of twisting a position around until it is virtually impossible to polarize and only leaves my own point of view as an option...although I take issue with that accusation.

Of course, that's not the most effective way to share Christ...along with beating a person over the head with an actual Bible as we say here in the South...so I've adopted a more WWJD demeanor. My most effective tools seem to be love and patience. Yes, it's still a work in progress.

A few years back, I was talking to a teenager who happened to be in a ton of trouble. I was trying to emphasis to him that what's done is done, and all that was left were the consequences. He was having a hard time wrapping around what I was trying to convey because he couldn't get past a feeling that he had ruined his life with his serious lapse of judgment...and dwelling on those consequences.

'I believe you will ultimately be looked at for where and how you go from here,' I told him. We finally got around to matters of faith, and he solidly stated he believed in God. 'Well, if you truly believe in God, then you have to follow Him also. He has a plan for each of us, and this may be your moment to shine for His glory,' I said with emphasis. He still didn't understand how his mistake would bring God glory, and I told him that he may never understand exactly how this side of Heaven. The most important part was being obedient from this point forward.

Explaining the number of mistakes I had made in my own life because my focus wasn't on God seemed to be the notes that finally resonated with my young friend. 'Had my focus been on God, most or all of those mistakes would never have occurred,' I explained. It was a great conversation, but I knew the seeds planted might take time to germinate.

When kids get in trouble these days, there is a new element Satan uses for his benefit...well, maybe not completely new but at least unknown to my generation or the one before me. Getting in trouble these days gives a kid 'street credit.' The bigger the foul up...the more credit you bank. What makes the crossroads even more confusing is the fact 'street credit' is somehow glamorized by the younger generation. It's as if you can't be good at being good...then being good at being bad is the next best thing. No, I don't understand it myself, but we definitely need to be aware of it.

I've been following up since with my young friend to make sure he doesn't try to use his thuggery as a jumping off point for bigger and badder things. We've talked about Saul/Paul and King David and how God used them despite their major faults for His purpose. Maybe his ongoing story will end as another awesome testimony on God's love and mercy. He deserves my persistence with this young man for His patience with me....well, and so much more.

Sharing Faith Isn't Just for the Lost

I don't know about you, but since I first believed, I have NOT always had powerhouse faith. Actually, I might not ever have had powerhouse faith. Some days, the faith of a mustard seed has easily escaped me and I felt like Stewart Little. Other days, I feel like I could tell the mountain to jump in the sea, and it would.

We often hear about the tiny faith, faith like a mustard seed. If we have any faith, that is enough. (Luke 17) That is not actually true. In context, Jesus is talking about faith in forgiveness. IE: salvation. In verse 5 the apostles ask Him to increase their faith. He did - Jesus went to the cross.

As there are different needs, there are different types or levels of faith - even a gift of faith (1 Cor 12). When it comes to healing, Jesus asked those without faith for healing not to come in the room where Jairus's daughter lay dead (v40). (Mark 5:35-43) They actually laughed at Him - well, until he raised her from the dead.

Today, your Kingdom Bloggers have a host of needs. One is very sick with the flu; possibly H1N1 with two children in the house. Another has a loved one that has survived a cancer scare PTL, while another is in the midst of schedule changes at work and a blizzard. The other is just recovering from sickness. I don't mention this because we need any specific response - but because we are human, we are the body of Christ, and because faith and prayer changes things. Today I am covering my brother with a quick blog, and praying for the others - we'd love for you to join in.

Some days sharing our faith is not for the lost, but to encourage each other - to stir each up for the good works God has set before us (Eph 2:10), and to believe God for that unseen blessing, be it health, finances, relationships, doors to open or anything else.

HERE is a story of how God increased my faith.

I'd love it if you'd post an answered prayer, a miracle God did for you, or a testimony of His faithfulness, so that we can encourage each other.

And while your at it, would you send these guys an email or Facebook message to encourage them? Tony TonyCToday@gmail.com and pray for healing, Dave DaveTevet@gmail.com - tell him how much you appreciate him. And you can log onto Joyce's blog and leave her a comment, she'd love to hear from you too - it's a lonely walk out there in SD.

Eating Ladoos to the Beat of a Tabla: Lifting Up Jesus

Sharing my faith in the typical ways is not easy for me anymore. Once upon a long time ago I was involved in a “Summer of Witnessing” as a teen in NYC. Teens from mostly the Midwest came to Brooklyn to use the Roman Road and tell people about Jesus. I liked the silent prayer partner role the best. However, I would also take my turn, going through down the Roman Road and hope for a prayer. We reported every day of our numbers and have services every night. I don’t remember every seeing any one we witnessed to during the day show up at that meetings.

I remember street meetings in Brooklyn that I have already mentioned in this blog. In one of them, with a group from Nyack College, I remember leading someone to the Lord. I never knew what happened to him. I got involved with a group that had a plan for winning Brooklyn for Jesus. We took blocks and targeted them with prayer and door knocking, all very strategic.  All of this was before I finished the tenth grade. To say I was a bit zealous is an understatement.

However, over the years my personal experience is that I have rarely seen this method of evangelism have long-term results. I have found that simple living the life is probably the most effect. Just hanging out as David said in his blog yesterday.

The most unusual time I shared my faith was in Pakistan. No, I wasn’t on a mission trip to Pakistan, I was on a family trip. It was 22 years ago last week. My husband’s brother was getting married. My husband, four of our children and I flew from NYC to Kuwait and on to Pakistan.

When we landed in Kuwait, I knew everything was different. At that time, you never saw police armed with machine guns in the US. In Kuwait, they walked around the airport, scanning all of us. I had a headscarf ready and hid under it. It was not because of modesty or religious conviction. I wanted to hide my light skin and light hair. I also insisted on wearing my cross. I wanted it clear, no matter what, I am a Christian and not ashamed.

I used the public toilet only to find it didn’t have a toilet. There was a hole in the floor to squat over. I was not that coordinated. We boarded the next plane to Karachi, Pakistan.

We arrived in the wee hours of the morning. As we went through customs, my fear increased. There was an old high desk in the middle of the room. The man sitting on the stool was quite intimidating. When he approved someone to go further, the sound of his stamp on the paper reverberated throughout the room. 

As the days went on, I slept a lot trying to adjust to the time change. I had never met my husband’s family other than one of his brother. There were so many people, most spoke no English. I had no idea of Pakistani wedding customs.  The woman would gather for hours and hours with a tabla, a drum and sing traditional wedding songs. The most popular one was about a mother singing to her son about how he was as beautiful as a peacock.

There were days and days of singing.  Three preliminary ceremonies leading up to the actually wedding.  I put mehndi (henna) on the bride-to-be’s hands and fed her ladoos to help with her fertility. It evidently worked she has five children.

One day I was sitting with the woman, all related, only one spoke any English. They were singing and beating the tabla. I was attempting to clap my hands with them. However, I am Norwegian. Norwegian usually have a serious lack of rhythm. Usually I have to watch careful in order to clap hands to music. This beat was different; it was odd. I was lost.

The sister-in-law who knew English looked at me and said, “You sing?” Sing? Me? I don’t know any Pakistani songs.  They all got excited as she translated that she was asking me to sing a song. They said you sing English – you sing one of your songs.

I probably know 100’s of songs. Nevertheless, at that moment, I couldn’t think of one I knew. I looked at our daughters. I asked them if they wanted to sing. They were young and of course, they thought this was a great idea!  So I asked them, “what do you want to sing?”

They looked at me with a big smile and said, “How about Jesus Loves Me?”  We were in a Muslim country and the only Christians in the house. I thought, dare I? I sent the children into the room with the men to ask their dad what he thought.  They came back and said, “Dad said sure, why not? They won’t understand it anyway.”

We started to sing:

Jesus loves me this I know,

For the Bible tells me so

Little ones to Him belong,

They are weak but He is strong

                Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me

                Yes, Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so

They played the tabla and clapped to their beat. It wasn’t the beat of the song, it just have sounded terrible. We sang. They smiled. We smiled. 

Ok, now maybe this isn’t what you had in mind for sharing my faith. I’d love to tell you that all these woman received Christ. They didn’t. However, I believe the scripture:

But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself." John 12:32

I'm not too good at it - but...

This week your Kingdom Bloggers are going to write a testimony about a time when we shared our faith in Jesus with someone else.

I love testimonies because they have so much power. Faith is contagious! I don't like testimonies because I have use the word "I" - which makes me uncomfortable. Paul said that if we're going to boast, then boast about the Lord. I still think it would be better if the person that received from God through us, would post how God touched them instead.

I have had the privilege to be a vessel for thousands of folks over the years; some here and some abroad. I have lots of stories on my Blog - some of salvation, others of miracles and tender moments with Jesus - and Tony twists my arm to write about politics. I am more amazed at God when something miraculous happens then most people - but that is what I love about Jesus.

Sharing faith - well the kind that gets others saved - I am just not good at it. I have to say, only on a few occasions have I closed the deal with the sinner' s prayer. There were a couple of other times when God closed the deal without a word; I just passed the Kleenex. I have had more success praying for the sick. One time I prayed for a woman with a lifetime of chronic migraines (HERE's that story), God healed her instantly. Shortly after she took her family to church and her entire family got saved except for one. It's been nearly 8 years. Isn't God amazing!

I used to think that sharing faith was reading the 4 Spiritual Laws out of a tract, and debating Jesus until some poor recipient was convinced that they needed salvation. I later found out that my faith is in Jesus, and I need to share Jesus. Jesus said that He did what he saw that Father doing and that is what I need to do.

I only want to do what I see the Father doing, nothing more, nothing less.

I have since discovered that salvation, although it may be the starting line of Christianity, can have a lengthy period before it, some times taking years to pass through.

I was at a church in Londrina, Brazil 10 years ago. There was woman at the meeting who looked to be about 60-years-old. She was born crippled and wore leg braces her entire life. Suddenly! God healed her that night. She ran around the sanctuary shouting, "Gloria Deus!" I have no idea how many prayers were said before that night, or how many hopes she had forgotten over her lifetime, but God, did.

Russ
A while back I took a job working for an old customer of mine. He knew me from the local business community. Russ had an opening for an unemployed software geek. After I started to work there he offered to host my personal and ministry websites as a perk. I copied the files over to his server and thought little of it.

One day he said, "You don't really believe all that Jesus stuff, do you?"

It depends on what you mean, I replied.

"That's just empty religion - besides you know what priests do to little boys," he said smirking.

I was fast looking for a reason to head back to my desk - "We'll talk some time," I said.

I got him quite a few church accounts and we had plenty of work. It was a great job, and in the course of working together, we chatted about religion on occasion. Each new customer was a reason to talk about faith.

He made fun of Christians - we hosted a web site "Touching Heaven" and always called it "Touching Kevin," and laughed to himself.

Russ did a lot of drinking too. He knew that I didn't drink any longer, and one day he asked me how I quit and I told him. (HERE is that story) "Well, if I get that bad, you can take me to a meeting," he said, snapping the top of another beer.

As time passed I kept talking with him about faith, my cars, fishing, boats and other "guy" stuff. We went out on his cabin cruiser, rollerbladed along the Cape Cod Canal, and ate lunch at the British Beer Company. I even house-sat for him every January.

Sometimes when others know about your faith, it is a real blessing to you - and it saves a lot of explaining. He didn't invite me out drinking or send me any "off color" links like some of the others got. He actually was a lot of fun to work with, and had a great sense of humor. My wife and I still chuckle about some of his jokes.

During my tenure, my mother became ill with pancreatic cancer. (HERE is that story) Each day I would walk into the office telling her that I loved her on the cell phone. He would wait for me to hang up, and ask me how she was doing - but the news got worse and worse.

One day I guess my sadness about my mother's condition showed. He said you know I have been watching you handle this, I don't know what I'd do if I were you. We had a talk about eternity.

"I don't know if I am ready to believe that," he said.

"Well, thanks for asking about my mom, I appreciate it," I said.

I continued my daily ritual of calling mom on the way to work. Even on 9/11, I called her. It was just a few days before she died.

He gave me time off to go to the funeral in Indiana and one in Connecticut too. We continued to talk about faith. Russ was still making off color comments about religion, but he seemed to respect my faith. He used to tell me that he wished he had the same peace that I did.

I went on to take a new job, but we kept in touch. One day the phone rang at 7 am, his mother had died of a heart attack. "I didn't have anyone else to call," he said.

"It's no problem, I am up," I replied. We talked about his mother on-and-off all week. I made suggestions for the funeral and the wake. I knew it was hard as he told me about going to hospital after her death, and kissing her on the forehead.

A few moths later He called me from the cemetery. "Do you think my mom is in heaven?" He asked?

"I don't know, Russ, I am not God."

"She was a good person you know. She was a nurse, she helped a lot of people," he said.

"I am sure she did." I replied.

"Well, I gotta go." And he hung up.

We've since lost touch, but I remember how much I enjoyed hanging out with him, talking, laughing - to the best of my knowledge, that is what the Father was doing.

This type of situation has happened before, you can read about it HERE. It would be easy to talk about the times that I felt that I succeeded. But God, sometimes He uses us to get people thinking about Jesus; about eternity, and someone else sees the fruit of the seeds we planted.

Hebrews 13:16 And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.

'You really know how to make me laugh young man...'

The Rev. R. Rye Fleenor, age 91, of Kingsport, TN passed away peacefully surrounded by his loving family and entered into rest with the Lord at 9:08 p.m. Thursday (October 22, 2009) at his residence following a brief illness.

Born in Sullivan County, TN on July 23, 1918, a son of the late J. B. and Mary Netherland Fleenor, he has resided in this area his entire life. Rye married Mildred Unavee Barker on June 18, 1940.

Composing this installment stirs a tremendous amount of diverse emotions in me. Sadness, joy, regret, shame, and heart-felt warmth. Time for reflection...cause for celebration...genuine appreciation.

Rye Fleenor, or always Preacher Fleenor for me, was not only a tremendous influence on my early spiritual walk , he lived a life that set a shining example for me to pattern. A loving, humble man that seemed to physically tower over most, Preacher Fleenor died 6 weeks ago...and I hadn't seen or talked to him in over 20 years. For that I'm both sad and regretful.

Being a teenager is tough business. Probably more so today than in my teenage years of the late 70's and early 80's...but I think being a teenager has probably always been a hassle. During those conflicted years for me, Preacher Fleenor was always a steady, calming vessel. He had a way of correcting and encouraging simultaneously I wish I could duplicate today.

I vividly remember his and Mrs. Fleenor's infectious laughter. He would listen to my cornball jokes, many I'm sure he had heard a hundred times again but would always laugh as if it were a Tony C original. I also remember the exact day he said the words that title this post...I was wearing a dress and acting like an unseen version of the Church Lady from SNL which wouldn't come along for another dozen years.

The man absolutely loved competition. During a brief exploration for me into the sport of boxing, he would light up as he gave me pointers and coached outside the ring. I think he was somewhat disappointed when I gave it up because he loved the purity of the sport...not necessarily the violence. As I stated in a previous post, he was at most every football or baseball game I played from around 1976 until I graduated high school in 1982. He was my most loyal fan, and I loved him like he was my own grandfather...who actually never came to any of my sporting events.

It bothers me profoundly to think about the disappointment I might have caused him during my dark years. I say might because I lost contact with Preacher Fleenor after 1984 which is totally my fault because I think I avoided him out of shame. In 1988, I was awarded a state honor in Hawaii for services during a natural disaster, and the story made local papers back home. I received a glowing note from him in the mail...but that was the final time we had contact. I remember reading that note and finding a quite corner out of the way to break down and sob at the pride he conveyed...and how disappointed he would be at how I had let me spiritual life stumble.

I was never close to another pastor until today, when I'm glad to say my current pastor is also my dear friend. He would like to have met Preacher Fleenor...I'm sure of that. Men like Rye Fleenor are rare and true gifts from God. I'm not saying perfect...just rare. My fellow Kingdom Blogger, Joyce, shared a phrase on Tuesday that I absolutely adored. Preacher Fleenor has been promoted to glory...and for that I celebrate and thank God for the time He gave me with him.

As I strive to be as much like Christ as humanly possible, I have a Father who walks with me and guides me through His Spirit. When it comes to being the best man I can be, Preacher Fleenor will always be an important role model in my life...no matter how old I am. I look forward to our reunion when my promotion finally comes.

Becoming a Dad

Growing up, my Dad's love was very conditional and constantly volatile. Insults and blows were more common than hugs and affirmation. The reason I mention that fact is because when I came to Jesus, I viewed God in the same light as my Dad. God had to be hard to please, quick to punish and constantly disappointed by all my shortcomings.

I mean, He is Father God, so of course He will have the same temperament, compassion and touch as my own dad, right? Somehow I was unable to completely shake this errant view of God many years into my Faith.

I became a Dad in 2005, when I met my son Logan. He was 14 months old on April 16, 2005 when I saw and held him for the first time. In the state of Iowa's eyes I was already a dad because they required that I pay back child support since January 14, 2004. However, at the advice of some family and friends, I did not become involved in Logan's life until DNA verified my fatherhood. Interesting, how Iowa could take months to confirm me as Logan's Dad but only took days to garnish my wages.

Anyways, after becoming a Dad, I began to see my Dad in heaven a lot differently. I began to understand how God could love me when I messed up, even when I messed up intentionally and no matter how big mess I could make. Sorta like the time I woke up to hundreds of post it notes all over the carpet.  I started to understand the concept of 'a thousand years from now, will this really matter?'. I accepted the fact that I could be patient and caring even when Logan did something stupid. Like the time he shoved a lego up his nose.  Initially I was baffled by the request and then annoyed by his anxiety when he pleaded for my help but I managed to be comforting as we worked together to dislodge the piece of plastic. If I can be that way in during an episode of stupidity, then how much more care and patience would a Holy Dad give me during one of my thoughtless episodes?

I have also realized how important my love and affection for God is to Him. When my young son could outta nowhere declare "I love you, Daddy!" and then flip his attention back onto the coloring book. I understood how my spontaneous praise or a wanting to just rest in His presence could bless Him. Similar to the time I was washing dishes and without any words Logan made me feel so loved by walking up to me and thrusting his arms up in the arm, 'begging' me to pick him up. I didn't hold him very long, 90 seconds at most, but it is still a memory that brings a smile to my face when I reflect upon it.

Most of all, how my son as been influential in my relationship with God has been learning that God is slow to anger and quick to forgive. Now, I aint gonna front, the only one with a quicker temper in my house than Logan, is me. But it is through some of my greatest weaknesses and the weaknesses of those around me that I see God at His strongest and most loving. One time in particular in which Logan was melting down, that I felt overwhelmed with love and compassion for him. My thoughts and feelings of anger and annoyance were washed away with peace and love. I felt the little guy's pain and frustration as he couldn't put words to his emotions and confusion. I understood how God could love me in spite of the nasty tantrums I had thrown and the horrible things I said to Him out of my own inability to put words to my emotions.

After becoming a Dad I can understand and appreciate why God persists in a relationship with me and it is after becoming a Dad that I can appreciate the Love and Mercy He gives me.

The Lord is like a father to His children,tender and compassionate to those who fear Him. For He knows how weak we are; He remembers we are only dust.

Psalm 103:13-14