SelahV Today by hariette petersen

DON'T EVEN GO THERE...

I've had some folks challenge my thinking before.  I've had some folks say I was downright dumb.  I've even had folks tell me I was a fake.  Really!   After reading this post today, I think they may be right.  WARNING:  Unless you think I'm better than you, then you do not want to read that post.  Ouch!  selahV

MANDATORY EVACUATION, RIDING IT OUT ON THE HIGH SEAS

What a difference a hurricane makes! 

My granddaughter lives about 10 minutes from downtown Biloxi, Mississippi.  Her hubby decided a month ago to take her on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico for her birthday.  They were suppose to return and dock in Mobile tomorrow a.m.  Her mother-in-law had flown down to watch her two little boys till they returned.  Instead there is a mandatory evacuation there.  So, last night, Sherry drove all night long and brought the boys home here to Oklahoma.  My granddaughter's ship can't dock till at least Wednesday, and even when it does, we don't know where they are going to dock.  It depends on Gustav's track.

Bethany said the waves are high and the cruise ship is rolling.  She's been sick almost the entire time.  She has no idea whether she will have a home when she returns.  It is on the east side of New Orleans and will be within the cone's path of destruction.  When Katrina hit New Orleans years ago, it left Biloxi a virtual ghost town.  I remember a casino ship sitting in the middle of a street a year after when I took her down to see her husband when he was stationed there for training.  Entire streets were gone.  And that was just Biloxi.

Her home sits less than a mile from the ocean in Ocean Springs.  All their possessions sit inside that house.  But I am so grateful that her two little boys are here.  Her greatest treasures.  Safe and sound.  Sleeping at their Nonna's house.  I got to rock little Ethan to sleep today for his nap.  Conner gave me big old hugs when he saw me.  Pray for my granddaughter, Bethany and Jarrett as they wait to come home.  Pray for the well-being of all in those coastal states.  This is going to be hard on alot of our family of countrymen and women.  selahV

 

COURTING MY VOTE TAKES MORE THAN ELABORATE PROMISES AND FIREWORKS

Hope.  Dreams.  Promises.  Change.  We heard it all.  Available healthcare for everyone--as good as the United States Congress gets.  Social Security protection for the elderly.  School system excellence--higher paid teachers, smarter teachers.  Jobs for everyone.  Higher wages for everyone and equal pay for women.  Equality for all.  Eliminating our dependence on foreign oil with tire gauges and conservation. 

National and world security attained by reducing military spending by billions.  Yet, we will take care of each and every soldier on the field and each and every need of every veteran who's ever served.   

Control our adversaries with chit-chat and coffee clatches.  Follow Osama bin Ladin into his cave and pull him out by the hair on his chinny chin chin.  Bring all our soldiers home from Iraq and put them all in Aghanistan.  Place liberal Supreme Court Justices to secure women the choice of destroying babies in the womb. 

And we get the entire package deal by simply casting our votes on November 4th for Obama and Biden.

Obama will do it all.  Security.  Wealth.  Health.  Education.  Equality.  Dreams.  Hopes.

I'm so glad my hope is not in chariots, horses, Obama or anyone other than Jesus Christ my Lord.  His promises are all I need.  My dreams are not my priority.  My hopes are in Him.  My comfort is in Him.  My security is in Him.  My health is in His sovereign care. 

But as a Christian, until I see a better choice than a man who seeks to protect the choice of women to abort babies by adding more liberals to the highest court in the land, I am compelled to vote against him by voting for another.  selahV

ONE REASON TO BE PROUD I AM AN AMERICAN

In just a few hours, the first black man in the history of America will accept his party's nomination as President of the United States.  I've said for a long time that we, as a country, have come a long way in trying to heal the racial divide between black and white America.  I've been criticized for saying this but Senator Barak Obama's speech tonite gives evidence that men and women of all color, race, and creed are Americans and are free to pursue the life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I'm proud of us as a country for this step into equality for all.  I'm proud of white Americans who do not see the color of a man's skin as reason to discriminate against him.

While I do not agree with any of Obama's policies nor the platform on which he stands and uses to lead America, I do admire we Americans who have made Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" speech a reality.  Congratulations, Senator Obama, and congratulations, America!  selahV

A PRIVATE EXCHANGE, ANOTHER'S CONVERSATION

If it isn't my conversation, is it any of my business?

Is it yours?

I simply have a hard time comprehending the need for demanding to know what another says in a private conversation.  Is it any of my business what a person has or has not said when that subject matter does not involve me?  Ever had only one perspective of a situation and feel you had all you need to form an opinion of all parties involved?   Should it be our goal as Christians to accuse another and judge another for something because we assume we know what another thinks, did or said?   These thoughts have popped into my mind alot lately.  Don't know about you, but I'm reminded of my mama's words, "Don't go sticking your nose in places it don't belong."

And as a Christian, the only time I think it is any of my business is when the Lord so leads me to act as a liaison in the reconciliation of two other Christians at odds.  Otherwise, it truly is none of my business.  What do you think?  selahV

SO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM FINDING SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHERS...?

I hear it on blogs.  From ministers.  From Sunday School Directors.  "We just don't have enough teachers."

"We have qualified and able people who could teach, but they don't want to accept a constant week after week commitment.  We have people who are great at organization, hospitality and generosity but simply do not have what it takes to teach.  We have folks who are not mature enough in their faith to teach.  For years we have needed to divide classes but didn't because we lacked a willing teacher.  So we are left with just one or two or three in every age department who are learned, approved, gifted and called to teach.  But there are not enough of them to go around."

We have a thing in Southern Baptist churches that we should divide and that, in turn, multiplies.  A class only grows to the size of that room.  Once folks are elbow to elbow and knee to knee, it's time to divide.  But then we need teachers.  The larger the class the less people get to know one another and the less ministry is served.

I have a suggestion:

You take those gifted and called teachers and let them teach a larger class within the same age levels for a particular department.  But you ask:  How can people ask questions and communicate with one another and interact?  Only a handful will participate.  Right.  So, after the lesson is presented, (and for small churches, the pastor could be the teacher of all adults), you break up into small groups and discuss the lesson, using applications and discussion probes, to fit smaller groups.  These small groups can replace what we now know as classes.  They get to know one another.  They visit and fellowship with one another.  And they minister to one another.  They have a designated person to bring their needs back to the larger group when the larger group is needed to better serve an individual's need.  (Including a difficult question.  It's called, honest humility.  "I don't know, but we can ask the teacher/pastor and we'll get an answer next week" ). Less people are lost in the cracks.  More people are included.  Teachers can be rotated.

Am I suggesting we destroy the Sunday School structure we have?  No.  I'm offering a solution to churches (especially small churches) which have a problem finding, securing and developing teachers.  I'm offering a solution to teacher burn-out.  I'm offering an option to keep pastors and S.S. directors from tearing their hair out and staying awake at night.  And remember it's only a suggestion.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, hariette petersen, 2008] FOR MORE THOUGHTS SEE:  WHAT AM I DOING HERE? 

 

WHAT JESUS IS NOT

Incapable of understanding your pain. He's felt it.

Without comfort.  He is the Comfort.

Lacking in answers.  He is the answer.

Inattentive.  He waits for you to draw near.

Powerless.  He is Strength.

Absent.  He is Everpresent.

Poor.  He is King of everything.

Dead.  He is Life.

Jesus is God and He is good.

BEYOND THE WOMB...

dailyIMPACT by selahV 

WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY?

We went to church.  We had a great time teaching young marrieds.  Just love those young couples.  They were so eager to deepen their confidence in Jesus.  How hard is that, anyway?  I thought about that quite a bit today as we discussed Hebrews 10:19-36.

I decided that the less confident I am in myself, the more confident I find that I am in Jesus.  The more I recognize the inadequacy I have in being all God wants me to be, the more God reveals the depth of His grace.  The more I fall on my face, the more I can trust Christ to lift me up.  The more weary I am, the lighter I become in His arms.  The sadder I am, the more joy He brings to my heart.  The greater the calamity and chaos, the more order He reveals in Himself.

So maybe its a very good thing life is so troubling these days.  It makes my Savior all the more evident in my body, mind, spirit and soul.  selahV

I wrote a bit more on my daily devotional site dailyIMPACT by selahV if you're interested.  If not, have a blessed rest-of-the-day.  I'm sure going to.  selahV

 

IF YOU THINK THIS POST IS ABOUT YOU...

It most likely isn't.  But then again, it could be.

Mosquitoes are really annoying creatures.  They sneak up on you when you least expect it and zap!  You're dinner.  Who knows how much blood they've sucked from your body by the time you realize you are their entre'?   Within a short while a whelp raises up on your skin and gets red.  It itches and itches and becomes almost unbearable to deal with.  Some relationships are like that.  You're going along picnicking or fishing or watching some spectator sport--enjoying a friend's company.  Then something is said and zap!  You wonder where that came from.  As time goes on, you discover the zap left a mark.  And the mark left an itch--an itch that wouldn't go away with one scratch.  So the next time you're together you take along your skin-guard and pretreat your emotions and heart with OFF.       

Recently I had a friend I really believed in.  Multiple times my heart was pinched by God at all hours of the day and night and Merrice (not real name) came to my mind.  So many times I've lifted that name to the throne of grace.  I shared many of my own heartache and trials with Merrice.  Then something changed.  Merrice became more cynical with each time we connected.  A critical spirit emerged in Merrice.  While there were times in the past I had sensed an oppressive attitude and vexed spirit, I chalked it up to pressures, personal difficulties and testing times.   The more I overlooked, condoned and tolerated, the farther and farther away I felt from Merrice.  We no longer thought the same way.  We no longer enjoyed talking with one another.  Our spirits were segregated into our respective places.  I wondered.  Were we ever really friends?

Today my heart breaks.  And I'm glad.  Because if it didn't, if I felt nothing, then I would know I never cared for Merrice in the first place.  Today I pray God pours out such love on Merrice and all the Merrices in the world who've become embittered, discouraged and turned cynical and condemning in spirit.  May my heart be beaten to a pulp for even a grain of the same attitude.

God has given me so much grace, and knowing how abundantly generous He is, I'm sure I have more than I need.  The least I can do is give some away.  Don't you think?  selahV

[© SelahV Today, hariette petersen, 2008]

MY PICK FOR MCCAIN'S VEEP

ME.

I'd straighten out this mess in a skinny minute.

Stay tuned for how I'd do it.  selahV 

I DON'T CARE WHO OBAMA PICKS FOR VEEP

I wouldn't vote for him if he picked Prince Charming.  I'm pro-life and whoever isn't, will never get my vote.  No aplogies.  selahV

THE VERDICT IS IN...BREATHING CAN WAIT TILL SPRING

So, we went to the doctor today to get the results of test upon test upon test for my husband.   Along with his thyroid condition, congestive heart failure, the 60% blockage in a neck artery, the extremely high cholesterol and issues we'd rather not discuss on the internet--he doesn't breathe.

Yep.  A sleep apnea test revealed that he stops breathing 53 56 times every hour during sleep.  That contributes to the reason he falls asleep alot during the day.  Why fatigue is his buddy.  Why he's forever taking short breaths all day long.  And who knows?  Maybe that's why God put a song in his heart that makes him whistle while he works.  So what's a wife to do?  Stay up all night and poke him every time he stops breathing?  Why noooo.  They have this air-compressor that blows air into people by attaching a stupid air-tight mask on his face.  Uh, what happens if the electricity goes off?  Will he wake up in time to pull that contraption off his face?  Will he even be able to sleep at all with that thing stuck on his nose?  Well, it really doesn't matter.  It seems he won't need it. 

Medicare doesn't pay for a compressor.   So we're gonna wait and see how things progress or digress.  Ha.  Next Spring we'll test him again and see if he's gotten worse.  (Since the doctor didn't bother to tell us how much one of those puppies would set us back, I figured I shouldn't bother to ask).  Anyway, we finally had someone confirm that breathing is not essential for life.  I'm glad.  Since I no longer have to be concerned with whether or not my husband is breathing at night, because medicare says so, I should be able to sleep just fine.  Don't you think? 

My husband thinks it's great.  He doesn't want to wear that contraption anyway.  He's always had the philosphy that when it's his time to go, he'll go and when it's not, he won't.  Now he figures when he wakes up each morning it gives him an even greater reason to be grateful for another day to spend with me.  Peace of mind.  Government regulations we can believe in.  Healthcare we can trust.  Gotta love life.  It's so filled with irony.  Don't ask me what I think of Obama's guaranteed insurance for every person in America.  You don't want to know what I think.  selahV 

I DON'T WANT TO WRITE ANYMORE

Sometimes I get this way.  I get disgusted with the constant yammering and whispers in the wind that try to nullify my thoughts and faith.  I am tempted to simply quit and let the yammerers and whisperers have the podium.

Yesterday was one of those days.  I'd prayed about the whole thing last night and no one but me knew I felt this way but God.  Today I got an email in my box which I didn't feel like opening.  But I did open it and I did read it.  It was from a complete stranger.  They did not know me.  And the first sentence said, "The devil would love to get you distracted and get you off the course on which God has placed you."

So.

Here I am.

Still writing.  Read more... selahV

A VESTIBULE INVITATION

The worship hour was almost over.  I came upstairs to coordinate the end of the service to children's worship downstairs.  A man I'd never seen before stood in the vestibule staring through the large dividing windows and watched the service in the sanctuary.

Suit, tie and sophisticated.  Leo was a visitor.  I told him he could go on into the auditorium and sit in the back.  He didn't feel comfortable doing that.  I got him a folding chair and he began to ask questions about the invitation:

What happens when a person goes up to the minister?   What were they talking about?  I shared the many reasons people responded to the pastor's invitation.

Following the service Leo shared he'd been raised in another faith and he wanted to know more about our Baptist beliefs.  Several phone calls and three weeks later, Leo walked down the aisle to make known what had happened in his heart.  A week later he was baptized.  I wonder, what would have happened to Leo if my pastor hadn't given an invitation?  If Leo hadn't had questions.  If I hadn't been there to answer them.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, hariette petersen, 2008]        

ONE SUNDAY, ONE INVITATION, AND WHAT HAPPENED

  It was a normal Sunday.  Our little rural church had all the regulars sitting in their regular places.  I sat in my usual seat, second pew on the right and center aisle.  My husband preached a normal sermon.

He's always preached Jesus.  Jesus is, can, and will.  Jesus is the only Savior.  Can save any person.  And will save you.  Every Sunday morning for nearly 23 years, he believed each time he preached that some lost soul may be sitting in the congregation.  It didn't matter to him if the whole church had been baptized before; he preached Jesus.

Sometimes he'd preach and he wouldn't feel particularly good about how he'd preached.  When he gave an invitation he'd replay his powerless delivery. The disconnect of his illustrations.  When Jesus Paid It All rang out across the pews he'd want to kneel at the altar himself and sing I Surrender All.

On this particular Sunday morning, I don't recall what he'd preached.  Nor does he recall how he felt about his sermon.  But we do remember that the Lord showed up and knocked his socks off.  The first stanza of the song had just begun when down the aisle came two complete strangers.  The couple both wanted Jesus.  They wanted a Savior.  They knew they needed a Savior.  And they wanted to know how to be saved.  Right then and there. 

Long story short, the couple had been living together.  Before they were baptized they were married in their home.  It was a giant leap of faith for them.  The husband had a very meager income.  Marriage meant his wife could no longer receive financial assistance from the government and they had her two little girls to care for.  But they loved one another and they trusted God to provide for them when they followed Him obediently.  Their commitment and faith transformed their lives.  They were hungry to know more about God.  We witnessed a joy come over them all.  A few weeks later, a motorcycle crossed the center line and broadsided their vehicle.  The lady was killed.

I wonder what would have happened to her had she not come to church that day.  If the Holy Spirit had not touched her life and my husband had not given an invitation.  If she'd never walked the aisle and made certain she had the Savior she needed for eternal life.  For me, I don't want to wonder "what if".  I'm happy we offered a time and place where she could solidify in her mind and heart that she was a child of God.  I know that someday I will see her again and we will celebrate forever the joy of knowing Jesus. 

This post was prompted by an excellent post I read yesterday. Craig Groeschel (I don't know him) published Ten Reasons to Invite People to Follow Christ Every Week.  Reading the first reason he gave in his post prodded my memory of that time over twenty years ago.  Perhaps you can read it and it may bring a memory to mind that you could share with us all for inspiration. READ ON.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, Hariette Petersen, 2008] 

DAVID BRUMBELOW ASKS: WHY HAVE A PUBLIC INVITATION

About a week ago Pastor David Brumbelow contacted me about writing a post on public invitations.  It poked a spot in my heart and prompted me to write a post last week entitled:  Call Me to the Altar, Please.   The idea of publishing David's thoughts struck another chord in me.  He is concerned that young pastors, hearing that invitations are not contemporary enough and lack in scriptural integrity, need to hear another perspective.  David is a small church pastor and doesn't have a blog.  I liked his thoughts.  They made sense to me.  But judge for yourself.  If you want to know the perspective of this published author and seasoned pastor in Texas, READ ON.

Bro. Brumbelow will be answering any comments you have.  And I might add my thoughts as well.

DIRTY LINENS, HEARTS, AND TEMPLES

"JESUS, COME INTO MY HEART."

I was only seven years old when I first uttered those words.  Then, I believed Jesus came inside me and cleaned up the stuff inside me like He cleaned out the money changers in His Father's House. {see Matthew 21:12-14).  I figured that evil things lived within me like germs in my mouth that needed brushing away from my teeth. 

Later my stepmother asked me if I knew what I was doing when I was getting baptized. I remember staring in her face and saying, "Yes.  Jesus came into my heart and washed it all clean, and now I have to be good for Him."  Even at seven years of age I knew being "good" meant not lying, stealing and other stuff God said not to do.

It wasn't until I was twenty-eight that the full impact of Jesus coming into my heart through the front door met me at the back door of my life, also.  Then I realized that no matter how good I am, I wouldn't be good enough to enter heaven and escape hell's condemnation.  It took Jesus to make me righteous before God.  My righteousness is what Jesus Himself did for me when He died on the cross.  He became sin, so my sin could be canceled out.  I didn't understand righteousness, justification, sanctification and glorification at seven.

But did that keep Jesus from coming into my heart?      

At twenty-eight I realized I had not lived up to the childhood commitment to "be good."  I had failed in my efforts to keep commandments and follow His leading.  But I found that the Jesus I asked to come into my heart was able to keep my little heart till the day He could fill it completely and help me understand the full measure of grace He offered in attonement for my sin.

As I grew in faith and wisdom through study and in His total and complete redemption of my soul, I came to understand a greater need.  Even a hunger.  A hunger to know Him in all His fullness.  I liken it to a guest I invite to my house for dinner.  While I do not fully know this Person, He was introduced to me by some really wonderful people who knew Him quite well.  When I was told that He could clean up the stains in my linen-draped life, I accepted it by faith that He could and did.  After He came to my house to dine, I'd visit with Him occasionally and be reminded of the once stained cloth that He'd cleaned.  I liken that cloth to the soul Jesus washed as white as snow.

As a child, teenager and young woman, I didn't realize that the cloth Jesus cleaned could not be soiled again.  I didn't realize that the dirty linens that lay around each time we dined were ones I had soiled with disobedience and rebellion.  I didn't realize that those soiled linens could not rub off against the linen made white by His blood. I came to understand that God did not want to dine in a heart filled with dirty linens stacked on chairs of yesterday's living. Each day the dirty napkins needed to be dumped in the trash.

Again, I am reminded of Jesus cleansing the temple.  I am the temple of the Holy Spirit Who lives within me.  As each day I clear off the table of my heart and gather the linens of sin, it makes room for the food to be spread upon the cloth Jesus washed clean long ago.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008]      

THIS LITTLE GAL IS....

SEVEN YEARS OLD!  Today we celebrate her birthday at Skateworld (her choice).  EEEEEK!  I can't skate!  So I will be the one taking pictures.  Yeah!  Good Grama.

  Bob can skate, though.  Sooooo...he'll be the designated grandparent to "put his right foot in, take his right foot out, put his right foot in and shake it all about".  Well, pictures should be forthcoming later on.

Have a great Saturday folks!  Be blessed and filled with happy thoughts!  I sure will be.  Can't do anything but be happy around this little bundle of bouncing joy!  selahV

JUST IN CASE YOU MISSED IT....

A WEEKEND REVIEW IN REVERSE:

Okay, I thought I'd try something different with my daily devotional thoughts.  Sometimes folks do not even realize I have this site.  And while I am planning to change it completely and give it a domain of its own, I thought I'd try to publish a weekly recap for you each week. And each devotional can be read by simply clicking on the photo beside each date.  Hope this helps give you an easier all-in-one access to what God has placed on my heart for this particular day.

FRIDAY, August 15th, 08. 

WE DO NOT NEED TO BEG GOD. 

Do we?

 

THURSDAY, August 14th, 08. 

ARE YOU TEMPTED TO JUDGE?  Occasionally?

   

WEDNESDAY, August 13th, 2008. 

WOULD I HAVE PRAISED HIM MORE? 

Could I?

 

TUESDAY, August 12th, 2008. 

WHEN MINISTERS WEEP...

what happens?  is it good for others?

will it help your church, our country?

MONDAY, August 11th, 2008. ESSENTIAL TO DO EVERY DAY...

what's that to you? 

SUNDAY, August 10th, 2008.

HAVE YOU GOT THE RIGHT SPIRIT?

Do others around you?      

SATURDAY, August 9th, 2008.

A BROKEN SPIRIT, A PURPOSEFUL PRAYER

Ever felt broken, despairing with no place to turn?  Ever wonder why?   

WEDNESDAY, August 13th, 2008. 

WOULD I HAVE PRAISED HIM MORE? 

Could I?

 

ONE THUMB'S UP, BUT LAYING LOW

"Surgery went well," says the surgeon.  But Jordy's aspirations of going to school today were cut short of his goal.  The boy who likes to soar high in the air upon his Honda-250 must lie still and keep his leg elevated for three to five days.

I hate to say, I told him so, but surgery is a dangerous proposition.   I knew that surgeon wouldn't want him dangling his leg over the side of a school desk and walking around all day on crutches with all that blood rushing to his foot.  It has nothing to do with being willing and able to trek off to school and be part of the I-CAN-DO-IT Perseverance Club.  It has to do with plain old common sense.

When I snapped this picture of my groggy grandson, I asked him if he was still planning on going to school and he said, "I can't.  The doctor won't let me."

Did that doctor know Jordy?  Evidently he did.  Because had he not specifically told him and instructed him to not go to school, but to sit with his leg elevated, you can bet another one of my homemade apple pies that he would have been hobbling through those highschool hallways as I speak (or type).

I haven't checked in on him this a.m.  But since they sent him home with pain medications, I can safely assume he is laying low while his leg is levered high.  Can't help but admire him, though.

Thumb's up to that little champ!

I so appreciate the prayers of everyone and won't mind a bit if you continue them for a spell.  selahV

                                                                           

ANOTHER REASON I LOVE THAT PETER LUMPKINS DUDE...

His name in my heading is good for an extra hundred and twenty hits on my blog.  LOL.

Peter, not many folks commented on that other post.  But I got some closet fans who are saying sweet things about you via emails.  Just thought you'd like to know.

And for the record, Peter, whatever you have on me ain't worth anyone's time to read.  But you, my brother are a royal hoot.  selahV

COMING SOON... A NEVER-SEEN-BEFORE UNPUBLISHED PHOTOGRAPH OF PETER LUMPKINS THAT SUMS UP ONE PORTION OF HIS ANATOMIC ABILITY TO REASON AND READ TWENTY THOUSAND BOOKS. 

WHY I LOVE THAT PETER LUMPKINS

Sometimes he is the most ornery person one could ever meet.  But his ornery-ness is what makes him unwavering in his faith.  His allegiance to Christ, his absolute diligence in seeking to divide the Word of God stem from this undeniably bullheaded belief that God is God and no one or nothing else can light a fire worth stoking but God.  His loyalty to those whom God has bestowed upon him as family and friends is unequaled in my mind.  But then, I'm biased.  He's my friend and I am his.

In years past, Peter challenged every word and sentence and opinion I ever had (and still does). He doggedly provoked me to think beyond my safe zone of boxed and canned impressions of God, of culture, of church and traditions.  His love for the Word of God, his life of prayer and teaching have given me much to remember and stirred me to seek a deeper walk with our Lord.  I am forever grateful for his ornery ways then and also today. 

How can one describe such a man?  Well, some might describe him as arrogant.  He'd readily admit that his writing style can come across tinged with more picturesque pleasure to himself than some of his more judgmental critics.  However, one thing that sets Peter apart from many people who seek to make a point, is he doesn't get flustered with any opposition to his words, logic, or reasoning.  In my nearly 30 years of knowing the guy and his loving, patient and generous wife, I've only seen him livid once.  His sense of humor is generously flavored with mind-boggling idioms of which few can conjure up on their best day of musing.

Today I am prompted to write this little synopsis of Peter because he has just posted what I believe is one of the clearest peeks into his heart of anything he has written or vlogged about since he began blogging.  Evidently he has decided to go back into his archives of early sermons and give us a taste of how God pushed him and pleasured him to break the Bread of Life to his former congregations.  I cherry-picked a few words from his introduction to his series:

"...making the Bible relevant is like making water wet."

"...the biblical expositor is obsessed...with then and there."

"...the Holy Spirit is about annointing His story, not yours."

Part 1 of Faith on It's Feet in James will, no doubt, be a blessing to read.  I hope you follow Peter's upcoming posts and look forward to them as much as I will.  selahV

PLEASE, PRAY FOR MY GRANDSON

He's fifteen. Jordy's a walking, running, jumping, rolling, live-wire. Today will put the brakes on him.

He has surgery to correct severe flat feet today. Surgery is set to stretch the archilles tendon on his left foot and implant a plate between his heel and arch. He won't be able to put any weight at all on that leg for 4 weeks. Then he'll have to wear a boot for two more weeks. Then he goes back to have the same surgery on his right foot. Please keep him in your prayers today and whenever the Lord brings him to mind in coming weeks.

Jordy is bound and determined not to miss his first day of school tomorrow. Uh...he's never had anything slow him down in the past. So he may just do that. He's already practiced hopping up and down the stairs to his bedroom on one leg. He's planning his attack on life in the school hallways and is really excited about all the gals he'll have carrying his books. Ha. He thinks it's pretty neat that he will get out of class 5 minutes earlier than anyone else so he can make it to his next class before the bell rings for others to change classes.

He's not too happy that he had to change his schedule to accomodate dropping his favorite class--weight-lifting. It meant his lunch break didn't coincide with his friends' break. But knowing Jordy, he'll have a ton of new friends in no time. Jordy's been riding motocross for several years. People say he rides like he and the bike are one machine. Jordy would scoff at that. But one thing he's pretty proud of is that he's never broken a bone or been laid up from one of his crashes. That boy is rubber. This surgery calls a halt to racing till 2009. But he'll have a state race in February and I'll betcha my best homemade apple pie that he'll be right in there battling for the hole shot. Thanks for reading. And thanks for praying. selahV

CALL ME TO THE ALTAR, PLEASE, AND....

What the altar invitation says:

Celebrate with me.  I've come to Jesus.  He's met me at this place and time and I want you to know it.  "And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbors, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.  I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance." Luke 15:6,7

Pray for me.  I have needs in my life dear brothers and sisters.  When you see me at the altar, pray with me as I pray for you. "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, weep with them that weep." Romans 12:15

Repent with me.  I need to walk closer to the Lord.  Do you?  I need to abide.  Do you?  "Be of the same mind one toward another.  Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate.  Be not wise in your own conceits." Romans 12:16.

Today is the day of salvation.  I may not have another chance to make my life right before God and man.  I need to know what is going on inside my heart, mind, spirit and soul at this moment.  Does anyone care?  Can you help me understand? "...I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succored thee:  behold, now is the accepted time; behold now is the day of salvation.) 2Cor. 6:2.

What the altar invitation doesn't say: 

I am stupid and I am coming to a man instead of my Lord.

There's cause to ridicule me for my act of faith.

The sanctuary is a place to be feared.

The people of God are people who cannot be trusted with my confusion, doubts or convictions.  Because I do not understand, I do not need to question.

This is the only time I can be saved.  This is the only place I can pray.  This is the only place I can repent.  This is the only place I can celebrate and rejoice in the Lord.  This is the only place I can weep for my brothers and sisters.

So call me to the altar, please:  Because it is one place I can come without feeling the discrimination of man.  It is one place I can confess my sin and know that I am forgiven and being lifted up. It is one place I am safe to walk unashamedly before the world and gain the courage to walk into the world of which I have been set apart.  It is one place I can receive the encouragement from fellow believers who know I am in need of Someone greater than myself to meet the needs of my life.  It is one place where beginnings can be remembered and sins can be left behind as I walk on in the Light of His Word.

[© SelahV Today, Hariette Petersen, 2008]

I AM A "PIECE OF WORK"

There comes a time in most everyone's life that they judge themselves or assess the judgment of another.  They take stock of accomplishments, failures, mistakes and achievements.  And by some kind of mental measurement they place value on themselves.  They consider their worth.  To others and to Christ.

I can truthfully say that I weigh the criticism of others in my life.  I appreciate the honesty and forthrightness of someone who reproves, admonishes or warns me.  After all, Proverbs the book of James says we can look in the mirror and then walk away and not remember what we saw. (James 1:23-24)  We get a distorted view of ourselves at times.  Mama use to call it "being full of yourself."  So another's viewpoint can be quite helpful in how we understand the kind of impact we have on the world around us. 

The weight I place on what another thinks of me, or says to me carries ounce for ounce what is offered to me in a spirit of love, grace and gentleness.  Any critiques I receive laced with innuendo and meanspiritedness are immediately dismissed.  Any judgment I'm rendered that's powdered and smeared with sarcastic barbs is discarded with less consideration than yesterday's newspaper.

I've come to understand something in life.  No matter what you say, or how you say it, someone is not going to like you for having done so.  When you discover that you only receive the negative criticism from a source filled with venom, then you can rest in the peace of God with a clear conscience.  I think of my Savior so often when faced with counseling a person who is dealing with unwarranted criticism.  He is always Who I think of in times like these.  In His perfect, sinless condition, he was constantly questioned, accused and judged.  In all the good things He did on earth, he was plotted against, hated and despised.  In all His sermons and parables of truth, he was rejected and counted as worthless.

So why should I, a sinner saved by grace, expect the whole world to like me or agree with me?  The answer is I shouldn't.  And I don't.  I know I am "a piece of work".  I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  I am made in the image of God.  I am righteous in His sight.  And because I know my Savior gave His life in payment for me, I think that makes me rather special.  And you, too.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008]

   

GROW IN TRUTH

"While our culture seems determined to doubt the absolute truths of God, we who believe in them must remain in them by remaining in Christ. Abiding in the truth will shape us. Sometimes fighting for it will misshape us."  Cyle Clayton on Veritas Vos Liberatit

Cyle has an excellent post on truth and the fight for it.  Very often to me, I find it best to simply rest upon the only Truth and leave speculations and battles to others.  Sometimes the truth is...we just can't stand the truth.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008]

GRATEFUL FOR GOOGLE AND ZABASEARCH.COM

Jimmy contacted me today.  Out of the blue.  He simply Googled my name and up came my website.  He posted a comment on my profile blog and told me that a dear friend from my church in East Hartford, Connecticut (from nearly 29 years ago) wanted to get in touch with me.  A flurry of memories rushed through my mind.

Jimmy.  That darling darked-eyed boy who volunteered to lie on the floor in the fellowship hall with a styrofoam cup to his forehead.  He let the youth members crack eggs and try to get them to land in the cup.  What fun I recall with him.  He use to be an absolute whiz with New England tag-sales (yardsales for the folks down here).  His dad took him on scavenger hunts for all kinds of treasures to resell for profit.  He was a great kid.  He was sensitive, kind and just plain nice.  I'm betting he has only gotten nicer.

Jimmy made sugar cookies for our fellowships and he gave me his recipe.   I put it on an index card, entitled it, "Jimmy's Sugar Cookies" and used it again and again and again.  Through the years, each time I took out that card it was a reminder to pray for Jimmy wherever he was.  As I made those cookies I'd remember to pray for several others from that youth group.  Florence, Stu, Debbie, Tim, Diane, Diana and more.  During one of our moves, I lost Jimmy's recipe card.  I tried dozens of recipes after that one.  But they just never measured up to Jimmy's.  It's funny though.  Every time I'd eat another sugar cookie, purchase a sugar cookie, or see a sugar-cookie recipe in a magazine, I thought of Jimmy.

I'm grateful today that Jimmy contacted me.  I'm grateful for Google and the internet.  I'm glad I have a blog.  I'm thrilled that I got to talk to my sister and friend, Sharon who'd asked Jimmy to see if he could find me.  I zabasearched for her name and up came her address and phone number.

Amazing how connected we are in a world of disconnections, isn't it?  I had a sweet walk down memory lane.  A lane I hope to walk upon many times in the future.  I'll tell you about Sharon another day.  What a dear friend in Christ she is.  And an artist, too.  selahV   

DO YOU ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH?

Do you tell everything you know?  Do you think it is your obligation to tell what you know?   Is it necessary to tell all the truth you know, just because you know it?  Can you trust your conscience to be your guide?

There have been times in my life that had I spoken up and told what I knew about a person that I could have exonerated them.  There are times I have been privy to information that would clear a person's name or shed greater light on a situation.  There have been times I could have exonerated myself by telling what another person said or did.  However...

...when a person has shared something with me in private, I am obligated to keep it private.  If some person makes public a half-truth in a situation to impugn another's character, they do more to hurt themselves than the person with whom they try to impugn.

For instance.  Suppose you had talked with Delilah and deducted from your conversation that Brenda had tried to sabatoge your promotion.   In actuality, Delilah never said that Brenda tried to sabatoge your promotion, but you assumed that from your conversation with Delilah. You and Brenda had never seemed to see eye to eye about anything, so it was easy to assume the worse.  Then later you are talking in a public forum such as a Sunday School class, or a blog stream.  You and Brenda disagree on rules for allowing non-church people to use your fellowship hall.   To give power to your points of the debate, you accuse Brenda by saying, "You can't agree with me because you don't like me.  I know you tried to sabatoge my promotion because of the conversation you had with Delilah."

All of a sudden the room goes silent.  Everyone waits for Brenda to explain herself--to denounce this accusation.  Delilah is not present when you accuse Brenda.   Brenda knows that whatever she says could put Delilah in the position of denying or confirming their private conversation.  Also, it would pit her word against Delilah's word and could cause people to think ill of Delilah.  So Brenda chooses to keep silent, to neither affirm or deny the accusation and let others think what they want to think.

Is it right for you to bring up Delilah in a public situation in which many do not even know her or Brenda?  Is it wrong for Brenda to hold her tongue and refuse to refute or validate your accusation?  What does it benefit you to accuse Brenda?  What does it say about your own integrity and loyalty to your friend Delilah?  Just wondering...selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008]

BAITED HOOKS, FRENZIED FISH AND FISHERMEN

Once upon a time, I went trout fishing the streams of Vermont with my husband and son.  There'd been a drought that year.  The little mountain brooks trickled down a dry creekbed.  I couldn't believe my husband even baited our hooks with worms.  What skewered carnage for what appeared even minnows would be hardpressed to find.  Nevertheless, every now and then we'd find a tiny pool of water clustered beneath a bank of large rocks and moss-covered tree roots.  Lo and behold, when my son dropped his hook in the water, the line would jerk and a trout would appear dangling in the air from his worm-stripped hook.  After a few hours of fishing, we'd all trek home.  Trout were cleaned and I'd fry them for breakfast and lunch.

Sometimes I take my mouse for a walk along the streams of blogland.  Occasionally I happen upon a pool where multiple lines hang from diverse poles of thought.  It can be quite interesting to see the types of fish that bite the bait and fall prey to a wiley fisherman.  In streams such as these, often two lines get entangled.  Then other fishermen get in a frenzy and pick sides as to which line is at fault for the mess of twisted words.   Sometimes a seasoned fisherman comes along who has fished that stream before and he sees the tangle of lines and recognizes the kind of bait that's been used to hook a particular fish.  He does his best to untangle the lines by cutting the hook from the end of the fisherman's lure.   But the obstinate fisherman snatches his line and gets stabbed by his own hook in the process.  Observers stand on the banks and watch as frenzied fish bite, are mercilessly hooked, ripped from the hooks and thrown onto the dry creekbed to waste. 

I stand on the bank and listen to other fishermen's assessment of the stream.  It's times like these I am assured that fishing is not everyone's calling.  I finally concur with the others, it's not worth wasting precious worms to hook fish so obviously unfit to fry.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008] 

BEFORE I KNEW MY NEED

  Nearly a year ago I posted the article below on another site.  I hope you find a bit of encouragement from this incident that occurred over 32 years ago and is still relevant to my needs today:

It was a hot, humid, sweltering June day when we returned home from shopping and saw our neighbor’s yard full of stuff for sale. We went over and browsed a bit.  My 5 year-old son brought me a beaten, scratched and dirty plastic toy football helmet. “Can I have it, mommy?” he begged.

“No, it’s dirty, put it back.” He pleaded his case; he wanted to use it while he rode his little wheel trike. He thought it was a racing helmet.  “It’s a football helmet. You don’t play football.” My mind swirled with the visions of combining that dirty helmet, his curly brown hair and New England’s humidity. Nasty! “Put it back.”

I didn’t see anything at the yard-sale that appealed to me so I left the children with my husband who was perusing the tool items. I went back across the street to prepare lunch. Fifteen minutes later my five-year-old son popped through the door wearing that dirty, scratched, beaten helmet. My husband and I faced off in one of those “didn’t-you-hear-what-I-told-him?” moments. He shrugged his shoulders, and said in his male-produced logic, “It was only 10-cents.”

Three days later that little helmet was cracked from the front to the back, almost split in two. Chad was wearing it when he drove under the back wheels of a passing schoolbus. When the wheels grabbed the helmet instead of his head, Chad popped out from under the bus and was thrown 30-feet from our driveway. While the injuries he suffered were severe, the little helmet that I saw no need to buy, and I had no desire to strap on his head a few minutes earlier, protected his head from being crushed. It literally saved his life.

“…for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:8

A multitude of things happened as a result of that accident and the little helmet that protected my young son.  The incident produced a dominoe-effect of lives being changed and souls being saved. But one of the most important things I learned from it was, God knows what I need for the buswrecks in my life tomorrow. I don’t.  And He answers those needs before I even ask.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, Hariette Petersen, Nov. 2007]