The Narrow Way

As we march into the weekend, I thought I’d send us off with a few thoughts about the choices which might lay ahead of us in the near future. Every day is filled with options and while many of them may seem small, even utterly inconsequential, their sum eventually adds up to our individual destinies. I believe that most choices, or directions, basically lead down one of two paths. First, there is the high moral path of the greatest good which, in my opinion, generally leads towards God. Then there is the path of compromise, which may not lead directly towards darkness or evil, but certainly tends to meander away from God. Sometimes that variation can seem slight, but with every choice we make we are generally taking a small step in one direction, towards either heaven or hell, if you will. The exciting, scary, amazing thing about life however, is that we have the opportunity to re-choose with each step. Sometimes a few thoughtless shortcuts or detours can land us in places we never intended to end up so we must choose both wisely and cautiously. We, as believers, must try to avoid the proverbial path of least resistance and endeavor keep our feet upon what Pilgrim’s Progress referred to as the narrow way. That will often be the more difficult path, offering deferred benefits instead of immediate satisfaction, but it will always prove itself worthy … while proving us worthy as well. I believe the poet Robert Frost summed it up best in the closing lines of his well-known poem The Road Not Taken, when he penned the words,
“I shall be saying this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference”

Well spoken, I think that about covers it. All the best to you as you choose your own path today.

The Narrow Way
There are always two roads to choose from
At least two roads, or more
The easy path of compromise
We’ve all tried that one before
And then the way more difficult
Less attractive, at first, it’s true
But yielding better results by far
Once every journey is through
How will you choose when paths diverge
For that juncture may come today
And broad is the path to destruction
Yet, far better the narrow way
By Frank Carpenter ©

Revelations

Last night, I had the opportunity to view an advance copy of the pilot episode for the upcoming six-hour series “Revelations,” which premiers this Wednesday, April 13 on NBC. (9-10 p.m. ET/PT) It stars Bill Pullman as Dr. Richard Massey, an atheistic astrophysicist who is dragged unwillingly into an end time struggle between good and evil. Also staring is Natascha McElhone as Sister Josepha Montifiore, a Harvard educated nun intent on discovering Jesus at His second coming and protecting him from those who seek to destroy him. John Rhys-Davies also guest stars, and he is a welcome addition on any screen. The pilot episode basically lays the groundwork for the rest of the series by portraying a world in conflict (wars and rumors of wars) with evil on the rise, contrasted against the backdrop of undeniable miracles which seem to point to the prophetic and imminent return of Jesus Christ to earth in the “end of days.” The show is chock full of scripture quotes, which is a good thing. However, it takes a great deal of liberty with prophecy as is to be expected with any major network production. It has its roots in the biblical end times of the New Testament, but it is clearly fiction. I here point out that the “Left Behind” series is also fiction, yet found huge readership and has had a commensurate impact. Evangelicals will be a little disappointed with the extent of Catholic imagery and doctrine, yet I confess having the same frustration with parts of “The Passion.” Nonethless, there would be no biblical message in that time slot without “Revelations.” So, from that stand point, it’s at least a “better than” choice. All those grains of salt taken, my wife and I were still riveted to the story and stayed glued to the screen to the end, which definitely leaves one hungry for the next episode. It’s not surprising that “Revelations” comes from the pen of writer/creator David Seltzer, who also wrote “The Omen.” What I must share is this: when I saw the original “Omen” as an unbelieving teenager, I went right home and started reading the book of Revelations in a bible at home. As an adult believer, then, I see the value in this type of programming because it has the potential to whet one’s appetite for a larger dose of biblical truth. Even if we struggle with the theology, I encourage folks to watch “Revelations” so they will be able to speak intelligently about it around the water cooler or in the school lunch line. Like “The Passion,” “Left Behind” or “The Omega Code,” it has the potential to act as a launch point into religious conversations which might otherwise be difficult to get started. It’s an enjoyable watch, with an eternal perspective. Nowadays, at the cost of some theological compromises, I’ll take as much of that genre as I can get.

All fiction aside, the production of “Revelations” points to the fact that main stream media acknowledges a growing interest in religious programming, especially as it relates to end times. This is an important time to remind us all that there actually is an "end times" somewhere on the horizon of mankind’s future and we should live accordingly. Even more importantly, none of us has any guarantee of how long we’ll be here, no matter how young we are. The “end of days” could come for any one person at any time. Bear in mind that if you get hit by a drunk driver, slip in the bath tub, or choke on a chicken bone, then your personal journey goes straight to the end of the bible. (without passing Go!) I call this the doctrine of spontaneous revelation. Don’t bother looking it up, I invented the name. The fact is that the end of this earthly life, for whatever reason, hurls us directly into eternity so folks are wise to have their fire insurance paid up in advance. Therefore, I conclude today with my own poem on this subject. It’s light-hearted enough to share with anyone and may be an appropriate response to some of those conversations sparked by watching “Revelations.”

Brimstones & Chicken Bones
(The Doctrine of Spontaneous Revelation)
We all have business to do with God
but we’re young and in our prime
So we put Him off year after year
assuming there’s plenty of time
We know Jesus is coming back someday
but who knows when that will be
People keep saying end times are near
but no one’s sure about prophecy
In fact, it’s so darn confusing
we don’t like to think about it at all
Since folks have been worried for centuries
and have yet to hear the trumpet call
So we kind of make this deal with God
that we’ll be good or better than most
Then we set the spiritual cruise control
so we can just kick back and coast
Figuring we’ve got a lifetime ahead
to sacrifice, give and serve
And if the Lord comes back just bad folks,
will get what they deserve
However, the flaw in our reasoning
which so many of us fail to see
Is that if we should die unexpectedly
we advance from here to eternity
We have merely to slip in the bathtub
or choke on the odd chicken bone
And suddenly, all the choices we’ve made
shall be etched in eternity’s stone
In that realm beyond second chances
where each man answers to God at last
For all that he did, and didn’t do
in the irrevocable past
Let’s call it spontaneous revelation
that day when you go to the head of the class
To discover that God doesn’t grade on a curve
and it’s strictly fail or pass
When your backup chute fails to open
whether or not your doctrine is sound
You better have your affairs in order
long before you reach the ground
Because the next stop is forever
so your fire insurance better be paid
You won’t get to choose between smoking or non
unless a reservation was made
Your cholesterol count doesn’t matter
nor how much dough you have socked away
Once you step onto the railroad tracks
You’ll be meeting God straight away
Don’t be lulled into complacency
for no matter how safe you feel
You may have one foot on solid ground
but the other is on a banana peel
So never put off until tomorrow
what the Lord requires of you today
Lest spontaneous revelation
should steal your second chances away
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Road Home

I have just returned from attending a memorial service in Oklahoma, where our family ranch is. It’s a place where my family has 35 years of history and I had even lived and worked on the ranch at one time. For all of its sadness, the only good thing about a memorial service is the opportunity to see lots of people in one place at the same time. That is part of the beauty of such gatherings and one of the reasons I rarely miss one. As a part of the weekend, I was afforded the opportunity to stay in my deceased father’s home and wander the roads and fields which are so much a part of my personal and family history. We all have roots of some kind and special places which have played important roles in our lives. For me, Tailholt, Oklahoma is such a place. I offer the following poem today, not because the names or places will be familiar to any of my readers, but because I believe the sentiments may evoke memories of your own personal roots. We all need to drive down the familiar roads of our past from time to time, even if we do so only in our hearts. Here’s to remembering your own road home … and may the journey be a pleasant one.

The Road Home
As I drive down this dusty road
I have driven so oft before
Past the red barn, the little brown house
and beyond the Tailholt Store
Past the little church where Noah preached
turn the corner at Shirley’s place
On down the cemetery road
with a wistful grin on my face
Then past the Caney Cemetery
where Don and Ednah and Helen are
I drift back thirty years, and more
but it doesn’t seem that far
I reach the junction at Wauhillau
pulling over to think a while
A lot of memories down that road
and most of them bring a smile
Off north is Bobby and Carolyn’s house
just beyond the old Chambers place
Where we picked dewberries in the spring
then there’s the rodeo bulls we chased
Across the road, by the old tin barn
is where that red bull ran me down
It didn’t seem so funny back then
at my debut as a rodeo clown
Just up ahead, atop the hill
is the spot where Herman and I
Dug sassafras roots beside the road
long ago, ‘neath the same blue sky
Just down the hill, by Bidding Creek
is where Uncle Don’s house was
Twas so nice today I kept driving on
and ended up here, just because
I slowly make my way back home
past a homestead I used to know
Where I picked daffodils in the spring
for my bride twenty years ago
I wave to Johnny and Rhonda
stop by the store for a candy bar
Having driven past thirty years of my life
has it really been that far
So much of my life is strewn along
the old country road I drove today
Not much has changed, except for me
and I kind of like it that way
By Frank Carpenter ©

Joan of Arcadia

Dear friends. I wanted pause for a moment today and put in a plug for show that many of us have been missing. It’s important, because it has a religious message that can open doors for conversation with those who fall in our sphere of influence. Time does not permit me to be more creative because I want to get a posting out prior to tonight’s episode, if only barely. If you miss it tonight, please take a serious look at viewing it, or taping it, next week. So rather than reinvent the wheel I like to quote a wise woman who works to promote such programming. She challenged me not only to watch Joan of Arcadia more, but also to help get the word out so that we, as believers, can send the message that we would like more such programming. Here is what media guru Elana Frink had to say:

JOAN OF ARCADIA is one of exactly two shows on network television to routinely discuss issues of faith- God is a recurring character, even. As religious Americans, you’d think that we’d all support this show, hold Joan watching parties, serve Joan-esque appetizers, and discuss it at length with our non-Joan-watching pals. Instead, JOAN languishes “on the bubble”, which is what entertainment industry people say when they don’t want to come right out and say “hey, this show is going to get cancelled if the numbers don’t get better.” Now, I know that some people who know their Bible better than I do have issues with the show not being Christian enough in its depiction of God. I empathize. But I also know that, for television networks, the choice is not between “A biblically inaccurate show about God” and “A biblically accurate show about God”. It’s between “Joan of Arcadia” and, pardon my crudeness, more T&A. Mainstream shows about God are a hard sell and, frankly, I’ll take what I can get. If we can rally enough support behind Joan, Hollywood will realize that Christians do watch TV- if it’s good. It’s up to us to train them to give us what we want. I’d like to ask you for three things today. First, will you mention JOAN on your blog today? The first new episode is tonight night (Friday) at 8 PM, 7 Central, and we need to get people watching. Not only could you talk about it being on the bubble, but you can be first on your block to know the dish about the season finale. On the one hand, Joan discovers why God chose her, and on the other, she discovers that there’s another person out there in contact with a greater power- only the greater power at hand is a dark one. Second, will you give JOAN a chance? It’s been preempted for March Madness, but as I said, the first new episode airs this Friday, April 1st, with four new episodes after that. Third, will you tell your friends (especially those with Nielsen boxes, hehe) about it? From experience I can tell you that JOAN is a great, low-pressure way to reach out to non-religious pals. If you’re looking for a way to start talking about faith, this could be it. In closing, I’d like to quote a gentleman with the Salem radio network I was speaking with earlier: “You may not love Joan of Arcadia, but you’re sure not going to love the alternative.”

I think Elana makes a very compelling argument. Last year we learned from “The Passion” that a main stream religious media event can have a huge impact if we can just get people in front of the screen. The same is true with television. So watch Joan of Arcadia tonight. If you read my words on Saturday or Sunday, then watch it or tape it next Friday … then talk about it at home, at school or around the water cooler. Even if you struggle with some of the theology, remember that it’s also entertainment and that’s something to discuss as well. There is so little truly worth watching these days so let’s fight for this one. I’d be interested to hear your comments about the show and, if I get enough response, I’ll deal with questions and comments in a future entry. Each of us has a voice, and this is something to talk about. Joan of Arcadia, Friday nights at 8:00 PM. Be there. Watch, listen … and then make yourself heard.

Millstones

Last week I saw the movie “Millions.” It’s a quiet little British film about two young brothers who fall into possession of a duffle bag full of stolen money. 9-year-old Anthony, the practical and worldly one, is anxious to spend the money on creature comforts which will benefit them directly. 7-year-old Damian, who is deeply religious and has visions of historical church saints, believes the money is a gift from God and must be given to the poor. He sets about doing just that, much to the vexation of his older brother, who clutches their new-found fortune all the more tightly. All this is set against a backdrop of the British pound being converted to the euro within a few weeks, which means that they must do something immediately or it will all become worthless. This is a moving story of opposing world views juxtaposed in the hearts and lives of two children. As they struggle with the blessing and responsibility of their find, they end up learning that true wealth has very little to do with money. I highly recommend this movie and believe it is still playing in theaters, at least those showing foreign films. Please see it … and take a friend! Now, with my movie review out of the way, I want to share the poem I wrote in response to the film and what spiritual lessons jumped out along the way.

Now, to correct a common misquote, money is not of itself evil. However, in 1 Timothy 6:10 the Apostle Paul writes, “For the love of money is a root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.” In short, there’s nothing inherently wrong with money, but our desire of it causes all kinds of trouble in our lives. Besides simply wanting more stuff, which has its own problems, we as a society live under the veil of two huge misnomers about money. First, that it will make us happy. And second, that it offers us security in direct proportion to the quantity we posses. From a worldly or humanistic perspective, it seems to make perfect sense. However, if you believe that there is a God and a heaven and a hereafter, then gain in the present world counts for naught. If our measly seventy years on this earth (if that) is merely a dress rehearsal for a spiritual eternity, the implications of that world view should extend into every area of our lives. This is especially true in the area of personal finances because it acts as an experiential extension of the state of our hearts. In the gospel of Matthew he wrote, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” How profound the apostle’s words are, for he recognized that not only does our money betray the state of our hearts, our use of it affects the trajectory of our future lives … and not merely the short term of our earthly lives, but the eternal portion thereof as well. That is why the bible speaks so often and so liberally on the subject of finances, as it seems to be a lightening rod for both who we are and who we will become. The most difficult thing to understand and accept about God’s economy is the concept of treasure in heaven. God makes it clear in the New Testament that the things of this world are temporary and will pass away, essentially being burned up like so much chaff. While that which we invest in God’s kingdom, and for His good purpose, becomes treasure in heaven. It is as an investment … the ultimate retirement plan, if you will. Until we understand the principle of treasure in heaven, we can never hope to be considered financially successful in God’s economy. This is just one more area in our earthly lives where no amount of comfort, security or pleasure in this life could offer as much upside potential as the kind of investment which pleases and honors the Lord and Creator of the universe. In the end, all that we accomplish or posses here will pale in comparison to the six words that every human being should hope to hear at the great judgment which await us all at the end of this earthly life: “Well done, good and faithful servant!” With all that in mind, it must be understood that our possessions are far more than blessings from God. They constitute an obligation, a responsibility. God blesses us in order that we might convert such currency into heavenly treasure. In fact, God only counts it as blessing to the extent that we give it away. Our earthly treasures are actually millstones hung upon our necks, the weight of which can plunge us into darkness if we are unwilling cast them upon the waters of God’s greater purpose. And in His infinite wisdom, he left the choice up to us for He is most honored by our choice to freely give back what He has so graciously blessed us with. It’s all a question of entitlement. Does it belong to God, or is it ours? If it’s His, and He’s merely loaning it all to us, than we have an obligation to pay Him back the principle in good stewardship and interest in the form of lives well-lived. That’s how I see the whole thing. Mind you, I struggle as much as anyone with trying to live the life we are called to, but we must muddle through as best we can. Perhaps, before it’s too late, we may learn the same lesson as the two young protagonists in the movie I so highly recommend: that true wealth has very little to do with money … and everything to do with eternity.

Millstones
All these years, as I’ve scraped and scrambled
Ever longing for just a bit more
I thought money could solve my problems
Now, I’m not nearly as sure as before
For all I have counted as blessing
At least in the material way
Seems to me now, but a millstone
Hung about my neck today
And the weight of it feels a burden
Perhaps men should not have to bear
For each thing I purchase requires
Additional payments, insurance, repair
And I fear the life we are called to
May not be one of prosperity
But simpler lives, in which blessing
Is measured in terms of our charity
And what of this millstone we carry?
How can we ever be free?
Since I realize all my possessions
Amount to responsibility
For all that I gather around me
Serves but to glorify me today
And God only counts it as blessing
Once it has been given away
By Frank Carpenter ©

Gethsemane

Well, if you’re into religious holidays, this is certainly a red letter week. We had Palm Sunday last weekend. Holy Thursday is tomorrow, followed by Good Friday and Easter. Not to mention National Agriculture Week, National Poison Prevention Week, Legal Assistants Day and, of course, April Fools Day is just around the corner. Religious holidays, while good reminders of the truth, can often cloud it as well. We are so easily distracted by the food, the fun, the ritual and social aspects of any holiday that it’s easy to leave God out of such a day - even a religious event. All celebrating, church services, egg dying and palm waving aside, I would like to redirect our focus to the person of Jesus Christ, whom we truly celebrate this week. This is the week that dozens of prophetic scriptures were fulfilled through His triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Palm Sunday), his eating of the Passover, His betrayal, His mock trial, His death on the cross, and finally His resurrection. We must remember, amidst all the other hoopla, that Jesus is the Son of God, that He actually lived, actually died for our sins, and actually rose from the dead. If any of those facts are untrue, then everything else we celebrate this week is pointless and we might as well sing our hymns to the Easter Bunny. If we do not accept Jesus as our Savior and Messiah, then we are all April Fools and that would be the only relevant holiday. Let us come back to the person of Jesus Christ. A lot of dramatic and public things happened during this, the last week of His life. However, I am most deeply moved by that quiet moment after the Last Supper, and just prior to His betrayal, when He knelt in the garden of Gethsemane and prayed. In that scene of anguish and compassion I most clearly see the Son of God choosing to suffer and die for me personally. Easter is a time to celebrate God’s victory over death, but the foundation of that victory is His great mercy and the sacrifice of His only Son on behalf of an undeserving world. If you have further interest, I have pasted below a partial list of prophesies fulfilled by Jesus during the final week of His life. Have a happy Easter and don’t be an April Fool.

Gethsemane
Jesus knew his time was drawing near
On the eve of that final day
With the weight of the world upon his heart
He came to the garden to pray
He alone knew His Father’s will
And understood His redemption plan
And though He was truly God incarnate
Still, He was fully a man
He knew that pain and suffering
And betrayal were moments away
As He pleaded with God and wept He knew
There simply was no other way
There, in the garden, that fateful night
With the lights of the city in view
Jesus, the Son of God, considered
All that He must go through
The tears of His sorrow freely flowed
That night in Gethsemane
For He understood his path must lead
To the cross at Calvary
He was Christ, the Lord, the King of Kings
Yet, He knelt upon human knees
And willingly chose that night to die
Because of His love for you and me.
By Frank Carpenter ©

Partial list of Prophesies Fulfilled During the Final Week of Jesus’ Life:
Triumphal entry in Jerusalem on a donkey
Zechariah 9:9, Mark 11:7–8, John 12:13–15
Betrayed by a friend
Psalm 41:9, Mark 14:10, 43–45
Betrayed for 30 pieces of silver
Zechariah 11:12, Matthew 26:15
Betrayal money returned for a potter’s field
Zechariah 11:13, Matthew 27:3–10
Accused by false witnesses
Psalm 27:12, Matthew 26:60–61, Mark 14:57
Offers no defense
Isaiah 53:7, Matthew 26:62–63, Matthew 27:12–14
Struck and spat upon
Isaiah 50:6, Matthew 26:67, Mark 14:65, John 19:1–3
Hated without reason
Psalm 109:3–5, John 15:24–25
Soldiers divide His garments and gamble for His clothing
Psalm 22:18, Matthew 27:35
Pierced through hands and feet
Zechariah 12:10, Luke 23:33, John 20:27
Executed with malefactors
Isaiah 53:12, Mark 15:27–28
Agonized in thirst
Psalm 22:15, John 19:28
Given gall and vinegar
Psalm 69:21, Matthew 27:34, 48, John 19:29
No bones broken
Psalm 34:20, John 19:32–36
His side pierced
Zechariah 12:10b, John 19:34
Buried with the rich
Isaiah 53:9, Matthew 27:57–60
Deserted by His followers
Zechariah 13:7, Mark 14:27,Matthew 26:56
Resurrection
Hosea 6:2, Psalm 16:10, Psalm 49:15, Luke 24:6–7
Ascension to Heaven
Psalm 68:18, Luke 24:50–51, Acts 1:11, Ephesians 4:7–10

Week of Change

Do you ever feel like, try as you might to change, you just keep waking up the same every day? I think we’ve all been there, but today’s message is especially for those who consider themselves followers of God. I was speaking with a dear friend earlier today and we got onto this very subject. Those of us who call ourselves Christians, and who endeavor to devote our lives to that creed, often find those very lives falling short of our lofty professed ideals. I go to church, read the bible, pray, give, perform good deeds … the whole shebang. Yet, somehow, I never quite seem to become the better person I’ve been aiming at. This is all the more shocking when I consider the holiness and worthiness of my Creator, the depth of His compassion and the magnitude of eternity. In light of such compelling and life changing revelations, how is it that someone like me continues exhibit such a stalwart resistance to behavioral modification? All I know is that we must muddle through as best we can and take each day, each challenge, one step at a time. The Christian walk is not one of instant perfection, but of prayerful process. Even if you share these same frustrations, let me encourage you to keep taking that one step at a time as we walk together down the path of faith.

An additional thought upon my heart just now is that this is St Patrick’s Day. Now I’m not Irish, but if you are, or if you are interested, St Patrick is considered the patron saint of Ireland, meaning that he was essentially a missionary of the Christian faith to the land. For your enlightenment, I have pasted the whole story of St Patrick and the origins of this holiday at the bottom of today’s posting. My question today is this: If you are a believer, what are you the patron saint of? How are you changing your little corner of the world? I think we’re called to be the St Patrick of wherever we are. You can be the patron saint of your family, your school, your work, your neighborhood, an athletic team, a car pool, whatever. It’s unlikely you’ll get your own holiday here on earth, but in the gospel of Luke (chapter 14) he records that, “I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” That sounds like enough of a holiday to me. Wear green clothes and drink green beer if you must, but let this day always remind you that you might very well be the patron saint of your own sphere of influence. That is a lofty calling indeed. My hope and prayer for you today is that you’ll be able to look back at your life next week and see in yourself something new and different.

Week of Change
Oh, God, it’s been another week
And I’m here in church again
Letting seven more days slip by
Without proclaiming You to men
Nor have I moved forward
I’m the same I was last week
Having squandered Your grace again
Unfaithfully foolish and weak
Lord, I beg for Your mercy
For the hundredth, the thousandth time
I beg You, make my life count
And end this faithless pantomime
Help me take Your commands to heart
May I follow You, Jesus, at last
And become the man You want of me
Before another week can pass
By Frank Carpenter ©

Origins of St Patrick’s Day
Just like many other holidays in the United States, St Patrick's Day has its origins in ancient times. A young boy named Patrick lived in the British Isles, a land that had been invaded and conquered first by the Romans and then by Germanic tribes. Patrick was captured and taken as a slave from the British Isles to what is now Ireland. He lived there for several years herding sheep. He was a religious boy and he prayed that he would someday return to his homeland. Legend has it that one night while he was praying, a voice told him to escape from the farm, and find a ship that was waiting for him two hundred miles away. Patrick got to the ship, sailed to Europe, and disembarked in what is now probably France. He led several of the ship's crew through a dangerous forest, praying all the time. Neither Patrick nor any member of his crew was captured. When some of the men were about to die of starvation, wild animals appeared for them to eat. Events such as these appeared to be miracles and gave rise to later legends surrounding Patrick. At home, Patrick felt that he was called by God to perform an important mission. He believed it was his duty to go back to Ireland and convert the Celtic people to the Christian religion. Patrick arrived in Ireland and became a missionary, traveling from village to village and talking about his faith. Once, several members of a tribe approached Patrick and told him that they found it difficult to understand and believe in the Holy Trinity. Patrick thought a moment, then stooped down and picked one of the plentiful shamrocks growing wild around Ireland. "Here are three leaves," he said, "yet it is one plant. Imagine the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit as each of these leaves. Here they are, yet they are one plant." The tribesmen understood, because Patrick had used a familiar object to explain. From that time on, the shamrock has been a revered symbol of Ireland. Stories of Saint Patrick, for by then he was a saint, reached far and wide. His most famous feat is forcing the snakes out of the entire country of Ireland. Even though there are many different stories about how he accomplished such a task, it is probably not true. St Patrick died on March 17 and the Irish people set aside the day to mourn. He became the patron saint of Ireland. Mourning turned to commemorating him and celebrating his life. Americans have inherited this custom. On St Patrick's Day in the United States, millions of people celebrate whether they are Irish or not!
From: http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blstpatricksday2.htm

Taking the Time

Weekend before last we lost someone dear in our lives. She had fought a courageous year-long battle with pancreatic cancer. However, in the case of that particular disease, it’s usually more of a fight for quality time than one offering much hope of a cure. Anyhow, my dear wife had invested lots of time staying at the hospital with her. She has an amazing gift of compassion, the wisdom of Solomon and the patience of a tree when dealing with those who are downtrodden and suffering. Over the years she has taught me that people in need trump all other earthly distractions. Having applied that principle, what I have discovered is that when we take the time to put people first then there are never any misgivings later. I learned that a year ago when my own father died after a protracted illness, and it proved true in this most recent relationship and loss as well. Real love is spelled T-I-M-E. When we give it freely loss becomes more bearable because we know we’ve done all we can. So without belaboring the point, I encourage all of us to take that extra time and invest it as needed in those hurting folks God places in our lives. And I daresay that when our own times of trouble come, that investment may well be repaid many-fold. Take the time … and you shall never regret it.

Taking the Time
Yesterday morning, I said goodbye
Though I didn’t know it just then
But this afternoon, that person died
And I’ll never see her again
Which only serves to remind me
How short our time can be
So we need to live and love those near
As if there was no guarantee
If we put off those visits
Like the one I made yesterday
We never know when opportunities
Might slip completely away
If there someone you need to visit?
Is there something you need to say?
Do you need to ask for forgiveness?
Or offer it? Do so today
For life is short, far shorter
Than ever we hope or plan
So we must give the love and time
We have whenever we can
Yesterday morning, I said goodbye
And tonight, though sad I’ll be
I know I took the time to care
So I shall rest easily
By Frank Carpenter ©

Be It Ever So Humble

I’ve been out on the road a bit lately, which I generally enjoy. I admit that even the simplest trip, even for a weekend or a day, seems to invigorate me. I just love being “out there,” meeting people and observing that which is unfamiliar. However, there comes a time when we simply want to be back at home. Eventually, our own beds, cars and acquaintances beckon to us. Even now, as I fly back from a whirlwind junket the draw of my comfortable little life tugs upon my weary heart strings. And I imagine it to be all the more so for my dear wife, who at this very moment is on a plane somewhere between here and Southeast Asia. She is returning from the disaster ravaged Southern tip of Sri Lanka, where she has been serving tsunami victims on behalf of our church. We haven’t been able to communicate much during the past ten days, but I know her surroundings have been utterly foreign to her and that she has been in the very midst of the destruction we all saw on news at the beginning of this year. I know for sure that she spent at least one day hiking through jungle and swamps while searching for additional bodies of tsunami victims. No doubt she longs for her own shower, her own bed, and the comfort and security of our welcome home far more then I. As we each wing our respective ways toward that unassuming little haven of rest, no words could ring truer than that tired old saying: “Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.” Amen.

Coming Home
There is excitement on the road
And adventure along the way
New people and new places shine
And yet, there comes a day
When one longs for things familiar
For family and for friends
There is a sigh of comfort even
When the best of journeys ends
There is a thrill to wanderlust
And each man longs to roam
But nothing compares to the feeling
Of simply coming home
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Whole Truth

Truth is an interesting thing. By definition, it should be an absolute. I believe it is. However, in this modern word it has a tendency to get watered down. How is it that two different politicians can make contradictory speeches and we divide up by party in choosing who to believe? Likewise, witnesses in court are sworn in and promise to “tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” The word truth is even emphasized by mentioning it three times, but opposing testimony often makes it clear that someone must be lying because their “truths” prove to be mutually exclusive. Not to mention the fact that virtually no one pleads guilty in court. Of course, they are often found guilty in light of overwhelming evidence. Clearly, even though there can be only one truth, it must be tested and proven. Ever fudge on your tax returns, even a little, or fight a speeding ticket when you know your were speeding? We give any number of reasons for completing tasks behind schedule, for being late, paying late, avoiding all manner of controversies. The world filled with people who, in effect, have convinced themselves that truth is merely “what you can get away with.” Is that really the world we want to live in? Is that the world we want for our children? Please answer carefully. Deception, however it seems to serve us in the short run, usually turns out to be a bitter pill indeed. For once those words of untruth are spoken and we’ve stood by them, we place ourselves in bondage to them. Truth is often more painful at the outset, but once spoken and paid for it sets us free. In the end there can only be one truth, the whole truth. A closing thought: that oath we repeat up at the witness stand always ends with the words, “so help me God.” That’s the clincher wherever truth is concerned … because He’s very hard to fool.

The Whole Truth
The truth can be a terrible thing
And all the more, if by surprise
But better by far a wretched truth
Than a world built on lies
Even semi-truth or half-truth
Though a tempting compromise
Prove cruel impostors in the end
Once unveiled from their disguise
There is no truth but whole truth
The whole truth that God can see
When we lie, we live in bondage
But the truth can set us free
By Frank Carpenter ©

Plan A

Do you ever get the feeling that life has something better to offer you than you are experiencing? Or do you find yourself thinking that God has a great plan for your life, but you’re just not quite ready to take it on yet? Often, and for a variety of reasons, we catch ourselves settling for a life that isn’t quite what we would wish for. Now, don’t get the impression that I’m talking about money here. Money is fine, but it doesn’t necessarily correspond to happiness or success. Either way, it’s only human nature to take the path of least resistance and let ourselves slip into a “less than” life because it was easier or more convenient. We might even feel this way while making lots of money, but in our hearts we know that life should be better, it should mean more. Somehow, we know that we are living Plan B. We know there’s a Plan A out there somewhere with our name on it, but we have the feeling that we’ve missed it. In fact, many of us may even know exactly what Plan A is. We just haven’t rustled up the courage to take that next step towards it. We fear failure. We cling to the familiar. Maybe we just don’t trust God enough. Whatever the reason, it’s out there and we’re not … and we know it. Friends, life is simply too short to settle for Plan B. It might seem a little scary. It might even take some extra faith, but it’s worth it. So say a little prayer, take a deep breath take that first step. There’s definitely a Plan A with your name on it.

Footnote: Just wanted to take a moment and tell you about some of my personal heros. My wife, along with ten other brave folks from our church, just arrived in Sri Lanka today with the mission of helping Tsunami victims. That’s two entire days of traveling, five vaccinations, two weeks of malaria pills and a gigantic plunge into the unknown. They are there to love and care for people who lost everything in a moment on December 26th. It’s easy to just write a check, and lots of us have. However, these eleven selfless people have taken the next step. They canceled their personal lives, rolled up their sleeves, and now they’re on the other side of the world serving both the needy and their God. It takes a lot of faith and love to make that kind of commitment. That is a Plan A commitment, taking the extra step … a ten thousand mile step into the unknown. Those are my heros. I’m a little worried, a little jealous, and extremely proud!

Plan A
So many times, we just settle
When we know there is something more
Lacking the simple faith that God
Could have something better in store
At times we seem to get a glimpse
But fail to clearly see
So we shy away in disbelief
And settle for Plan B
We let our fear of failure
Dictate the path we choose
Giving up what could be gained
While unaware of what we lose
Don’t settle, friend, for Plan B
As so many of us have done
God has something better in store
If you trust in His word and Son
Life can be so much better
Take that leap of faith today
Then step out and live courageously
It’s time to begin Plan A
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Rain

We’ve had more than our share of rain here in southern California during recent weeks. It’s been a great inconvenience, bringing with it an abundance of traffic and storm-related damage. All that being said, however, I must here admit that I love the rain. It washes and cleanses the world, turns the local hills a brilliant green and breaks the monotony of our usually temperate weather patterns. Some folks are depressed by such inclement weather, yet it invigorates me. I love to hear it drumming on my roof, but I also adore being out in the rain. There’s just something about it that makes my life make sense, bringing both comfort and inspiration. Now everyone seems to love the sunshine, but I must admit that it always warms my heart when the forecast calls for partly cloudy, with a chance of something special. To that end, I offer you the following little essay that came about as the result of one my nights out in the rain.

The Rain
I really should be heading indoors. That=s what my sensible mind retorts over and again. Go inside. Don't act foolishly. Get dry. Be sensible, reasonable, responsible ... normal. That last one always hurts the most. Yet, my heart implores me to remain outdoors, out in the rain. My clothes are soaked, my hair matted and disheveled. I’m shivering from the cold, but some kind of a fire has begun to smolder within. There is an electricity about me, inside me, that my wet skin seems to conduct into my being from the stormy night. As I turn my face to the tempestuous night sky, my skin tingles from the myriad of cool droplets which alight upon me and something more than water soaks into my skin. The night, the sky, the freshness of the breeze seeps into me, even unto the depths of my soul.
Suddenly, I am aware that a part of me is melting, washed away by the cleansing rain. A part of my life, the residue of frustration and worry that builds up in a civilized world slowly erodes away. It slips from me like a snake's skin which is discarded and left behind. A part of me panics. It longs to rush into the house and out of the rain, to stay the same. It wants to be safe and secure and warm and dry and just like everyone else. However, my heart steadfastly clings to the rain. It drags me back out into the night, where there is a peacefulness amidst the turmoil of the storm. To remain outside is to be different, which frightens me while it exhilarates me as well.
I really should be heading indoors. A thousand voices of conformity echo within my rational mind, imploring me to obey the natural laws of civilized man, to fit in without making any waves. To dry off, listen to the news, floss and get to bed like the reasonable upstanding citizen that I am. Early bird gets the worm. My heart reminds me, once again, that I have never much cared for worms. No there is something more for me out here in the rain. I shall tarry a while longer.

The Least of These

I suppose there has never been a shortage of suffering or disaster in the world. The location and faces may change, but some group is always falling prey to atrocities or natural disaster. So much so, that we in the suburban west tend to become desensitized. Oh, the starving children and others make it onto our televisions from time to time, but they seem so far away that it’s difficult to care about them. They don’t look like us or talk like us. They practice different religions. We rationalize that they just aren’t willing to help themselves. Eventually, we change the channel … and they go away. We flush them from our conscious thought with another, more attractive, program and it’s almost as if they don’t exist. We don’t want them to exist, because if we really pause to think about them, it forces us to make a conscious decision: either to help them or ignore them. Neither fits our social agenda so we choose not to think about them. Recently, however, the devastation of the Tsunami caught our attention. It stayed on the front page and in the news longer than most disasters. The devastation and loss of life were so staggering that it became difficult to ignore. Many of us wrote checks to relief funds administered by our churches or other organizations. That’s a good thing. In our home, there seemed to be a tug on our heartstrings to take an additional step in response to the unprecedented suffering and loss. Our church made a commitment to do something more than just send money and, suddenly, my dear wife has joined a team of other compassionate folks headed to Sri Lanka in a week. They will deliver humanitarian aid, offer comfort to individual victims, administer relief spending and build relationships that will help us to serve those suffering most even better in the future. My beloved spouse doesn’t have any tangible skills that would be useful in reconstruction, but she has a huge heart and a particular gift of compassion. Still, we have to ask the question, “Can one person make a difference?” Absolutely! Every heroic effort, every lofty humanitarian cause, boils down to the hearts and hands of individual people on the front line. Someone has to get their hands dirty. Someone has to risk the sickness and heart ache inherent to working in third world countries on the far side of the globe. Not everyone can go, but someone must. Now this is not a guilt message. You can find that in my January 3^rd posting entitled “Waves of Responsibility.” My point today is to encourage each of us to discover where we fit into the big picture. We all have something to give. Some can give money. Some folks have time. Others have specific skills or talents that God can use to help others. Each of us contributes as we have been blessed, and together we comprise the entire, complimentary package of compassion which makes humankind so amazing. We are, after all, made in God’s image so it gives us a glimpse of the nature of God as well. Now, there are lots of other problems in the world besides the tsunami-related damage. This just happens to be the one at the forefront of public attention for the time being. The point is that we all have a part to play, a responsibility to both our Creator and our fellow man. Jesus made it clear that when we feed the hungry, offer shelter to the homeless, and care for widows and orphans then we are doing his work. What is more, He indicated that when we perform such acts we are essentially do so to Him, which also implies that the withholding thereof constitutes a personal affront to Him. So let us not forget those who are suffering so much right now. They are far away and they are strangers, but they are in need and we are called to help them. May our prayers and support be with those whom we send to serve upon the front line of compassion on the far side of the world … and may each of us find the courage to ask ourselves that all important question, “What can I do to help?”

The Least of These

I know that look, the look of pain

I've seen it time and time again

In the eyes of children on the street

And people who just need to eat

I've seen it on the tired and old

Whose lives were spent on fool's gold

And lonely people everywhere

Who simply want someone to care

It's the face of poverty and need

Of famine, flood and tyrant's greed

The face that haunts me in the night

And even in the broad daylight

Imploring me to stop and care

Instead, I pass and blindly stare

Ahead, to comfort and security

And away from those who so need me

My pristine little world is safe

From homeless beggar and starving waif

But not from God, whom I asked in

Whose voice I hear above the din

Who pierces hardened hearts like mine

And melts the ice of stubborn minds

And calls me to reach out and care

For those in need and in despair

For Jesus feels every tear

He knows each pain and every fear

Those with hunger, heart ache and disease

Jesus knows the least of these

So if I turn my back on them

I have, in fact, done so to him

For only by the way I care

Will people know that God is there

Lord, break my heart and bend my knees

That I may love the least of these

By Frank Carpenter ©

Upon A Star

Well, this is something of a romantic weekend for our family. Of course, tomorrow is Valentines Day. That’s a big one for lot’s of people. However, yesterday also marked the 281st month that my dear wife and I have been married. (monthaversery) Yes, we celebrate that. To top it all off, our eldest child popped the questions yesterday and we flew in to attend and engagement party with both families and all their friends. In fact, at this very moment, I’m still in Montana where those blessed events occurred. So, as you can see, this is an especially romantic weekend for our whole gang. My take on life is that every day should be romantic. When special occasions, like Valentines Day, roll around why not celebrate? I’ve discovered that a little extra effort in this area of our lives can pay lasting dividends through the years. Think you’re too old, too young, too mature? Whatever your “too” is, get over it and take a good, long creative look at how to make the other person in your life feel special. Going all out for Valentines Day would be a wonderful thing, but remember that there are another 364 days left in the year to express your affection as well. My take is that if you love someone, show them. If you love them a lot, show them a lot. If you love them all the time, prove it all the time. Even if you’re generally happy, apply the cake principle: cake is nice, but it’s even better with frosting and ice cream. If there’s someone in your life who deserves frosting, sock it to ‘em. Also, please don’t come up with some lame excuse about how it’s too late to do anything about Valentines Day. Hand made cards and dime store gifts are way better than nothing at all. The point is to do something, anything, and always remember that an outstanding presentation can make up for a great deal of haste and frugality. Is your mind a complete blank right now? Then just use the poem I provided below. Just be sure to rewrite it in your own handwriting on a piece of colored paper. If you are reading this and Valentines Day has already passed, just declare your own private Valentines Day, or week for that matter. The point is that real love is worth way more than words so say it with something extra. Do you want to have a life time of happiness? I assure you that you will reap what you sow in the area of romance so put on than thinking cap and get to work. You’ll be glad you did.

Upon a Star
I’ve heard it said the first star
Appearing in the evening sky
Is the one that you can wish upon
And tonight it caught my eye
I pondered what to wish for
When my pondering was through
I found my wish was still the same
Once again, I wished for you
I wished upon that very star
So many years ago
And got just what I wanted
Now what happiness I know
How fortunate I count myself
Not that just one wish came true
But a whole long lifetime of them
And I still wish for you
By Frank Carpenter ©

The Lee Shore

A lee shore is a shore that the wind is blowing towards, meaning that it falls to the leeward, or down wind, side of a boat. This can be a dangerous place since engine trouble or a lack of wind can make a boat susceptible to being driven onto that shore. On the water, there are two ways to avoid the problems associated with a lee shore. First of all, it behooves one to give such a shore a wide berth, leaving plenty of open water to maneuver clear in an emergency. Second, and perhaps most importantly, we can keep our craft well-maintained so that the chance of an equipment failure is minimized. This can help to ensure that we are able to control our vessels and thus keep them off the rocks. The interesting thing about the above safety items is that they apply to many other areas of our lives. I actually wrote the attached poem as a metaphor to someone’s failing marriage. These principles also work for the maintenance of our spiritual lives and our physical bodies. Very simply put, be prepared and try to avoid troubles, especially where the danger is already known. If we take care of ourselves: physically, spiritually and relationally, we can circumvent a host of problems in our lives. Furthermore, we can identify many of the dangers in our lives in advance, the rocky shores if you will. You know what your weaknesses are. You know your own areas of potential temptation. That’s half the battle. Once we identify the dangers, then they are all the more easily avoided. It’s only common sense that staying clear of trouble is the best way not to get into it. So whether you’re out at sea, or just trying to get through your daily life, make every effort to be prepared for trouble and avoid the lee shores which so often loom near at hand. As you sail across life’s blue, I wish you fair winds and a course ever true.

Lee Shore

When a man is sure of his timbers

When his vessel is strong and sound

With bilges dry and rigging taut

His keel deep and well-found

He knows he can bear the fiercest gale

However the tempest may blow

Heaving to, or laying out a drogue

To lash the wheel and go below

But if his ship has grown ungainly

He must be ever at the helms

Lest he ships a following sea

Or a rogue wave overwhelms

He must be wary of each motion

That his struggling vessel makes

For when the weather turns nasty

No margin is left for mistakes

When he finds himself by a lee shore

Trying to claw up into a gale

He must know his canvas is worthy

To the challenge and if it should fail

He must have his ground tackle ready

Being sure of his cable and rode

So if it comes to last resorts

He knows it will bear the load

When waves on the shore are crashing

And rocks loom under his lee

He must know if his crew and vessel

Are up to the task and the sea

If a man’s ship is not in order

He must take it firmly in hand

Lest it founder and be lost

Or be driven onto the land

By Frank Carpenter ©

A Review of Iraqi Elections

A Review of Iraqi Elections
My apologies to regular readers for my silence of the past week, as my creative energies have been focused elsewhere. One issue I have intended to comment on prior to now is the recent elections held in Iraq. The naysayers will always find something to complain about rather than concede any kind of success in Iraq, but let’s just pause to review a few pertinent facts about what happened in those historic elections. First of all, some have suggested that perhaps there wasn’t enough voter turnout to be representative. Nonsense. The Iraqi elections boasted nearly a 60% voter turnout. To put that in perspective, we usually have less than 50% of our citizens vote, and sometimes as low as 40%. Bear in mind, also, that the 60% Iraqi turnout was in spite of nationwide death threats from terrorists. Clearly, it was the will of the people to exercise their free will, whatever the danger to themselves or their families. Furthermore, a significant percentage of those voters were women, which is even more amazing considering how women are often oppressed in Islamic culture. The record should also show that, even in our own country, it took 150 years for women to win the right to vote. Some have also proclaimed that the election might be invalidated by the presence of an occupying force. To them I pose the question, “In the last hundred years, what nation has the United States ever occupied and kept control of?” None. In all those years we have never asked for any more land than was required to burry our dead. There could be no elections without our presence. Consequently, we are a liberating force which has ended not years, but centuries of tyranny. In fact, throughout the millennia of recorded history, the people of that region have never before had the right, nor even any hope, of self government. They have always lived at the mercy of a tyrant or dictator. Therefore, to those who would call our war an unjust war, I merely endeavor to point out that the people of Iraqi have lived for generations as the victims of an unjust peace. Finally, can we justify the price paid in American lives? Since hostilities commenced early in 2003 almost 1500 American service men and women have sacrificed their lives. That is indeed a terrible cost, especially for their loved ones. However, their precious blood purchased the freedom of nearly 23 million Iraqi citizens. If the United States of America is the defender of liberty, and our armed forces are the instruments thereof, then I believe the price we have paid is wholly justified. If not us, then who will stand against tyranny and for those oppressed. The great irony of freedom is that it can never be free. We have purchased it for the people of Iraq … and we have paid dearly for it. This great nation was founded on the principle that each human being has an inalienable right to life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We also believe that those rights are worth fighting and dying for and we have proven so time and again. Not every nation agrees with us right now. The record must show, however, that many of those selfsame nations have been either the beneficiaries or the protagonists in our historical struggle against tyranny, and the world is a better place because of our stalwart efforts on that front. There will always be naysayers. There will always be selfish nations who remain on the political sidelines and complain while someone else does all the great work of compassion and liberation. I, for one, am willing to accept their abuse because I am all the more willing to accept our responsibility. The elections in Iraq are a great victory in that ongoing struggle. Yes, it was worth it.

The Voice of Freedom
I am the voice of freedom
The words of Franklin and Jefferson
The cry of Patrick Henry
And the cheers of the minutemen
Mine was the pen of Francis Scott Key
In the battle of Baltimore
As he saw the stars and stripes flying
At dawn on that smoke shrouded shore
I was at Vicksburg and Shiloh
Harpers Ferry, Pea Ridge and Bull Run
Lincoln spoke of me at Gettysburg
After that bloody battle was done
I was sung by immigrants
As they passed the Statue of Liberty
I was heard in the trenches of France
And I returned at Normandy
Twice, I spread across Europe
As my oppressors fell and fled
Rising out of the hearts of men
Who thought I was left for dead
Even today, I linger
Upon the lips of those who are just
Who right the wrongs of evil men
By making the sacrifices they must
Whenever a people downtrodden
Dare to whisper a prayer of me
Wherever a tyrant is toppled
By the ideals of democracy
I will be there, upon their lips
In the step, in the heart, in the eyes
Of those who struggle against oppressors
For I am their battle cry
I resound throughout the nations
Overcoming both doubt and fear
I am the voice of freedom
The voice all men long to hear
By Frank Carpenter ©

Forgiveness

I’ve had occasion to spend time with a great many hard-hearted people in the course my life. In fact, I’ve even been one myself from time to time and I never cease to be amazed by the emotional walls folks are willing to build around themselves. Oh, they always blame it on someone else. “If you only knew what she said.” “If you only saw how they treated me.” The excuses are endless. Whatever they are, we find a reason to blame others for what happened between us. Then we chisel those words in stone and hang them permanently outside the door to our hearts. So it is that friendships wither, men and women get divorced, siblings drift apart, and countless children and parents become estranged. You know the story and you’ve seen it in your own circle of experience. Someone always seems to say something that ends up being “the last straw,” and one party walks out of the room, often out of the lives, of a loved one or family member. Over the course of time the gap grows wider, feelings turn to stone and we simply accept that those relationships will never be reconciled. Long after the original pain subsides, and we’ve drawn our lines in the sand, each side huddles within their battlements muttering to themselves, “I’ll be dammed is I’m giving in first.” So no one does, and that becomes the status quo. We must ask ourselves, however, “was it really worth it?” and “is that how I want it to be forever?” In many cases, a thoughtful answer really should be “no” and “no.” In the end, it all comes down to forgiveness. Are we able to forgive the other person, or persons, for their actions and swallow our pride long enough to ask forgiveness of them? Right now, your blood pressure is rising from just thinking about it, right? Each of us believes in our heart of hearts that our situation is utterly unique … and unforgivable. Well, when the thinking gets a little tricky in my own life, and I’m temped to rationalize, I like to look to the bible for answers. In the book of Matthew, Chapter 18, we find just such an answer: “Then Peter came and said to Him, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.”” Clearly, the point is to forgive completely and consistently. Jesus, of course, backs up His words by sacrificing his own life on the cross for the sins of all mankind. He forgave to the very point of death … and that is our example. Consequently, all this begs the question, “Are there people in our lives who require our forgiveness?” In some cases that answer may be glaring, even overwhelming. For some of us, it may take a little thought but there’s usually a relationship in need of repair. Either way, I leave you today the thought that our Lord has richly lavished us with forgiveness. If that is the case, then I submit that He requires the same of us. Go in God’s grace and try not to be stingy with it.

Forgiveness

How much must I endure, when push comes to shove

Is there a quota on patience, a limit to love

Seventy times seven, how much would that be

How much more has the Savior forgiven for me

When Jesus forgave me, He laid His life down

Forsaking His power, His pride and His crown

Indeed, He gave everything up, in His love

The King, whom I'm so very unworthy of

He forgave so much more than I ever could do

How much must I endure, how much must I go through

'Tis folly to ask with the answer so clear

With the loving embrace of my Savior so near

How much more is required for me to forgive

As long as I breathe, as long as I live

Jesus tells me that I have not given my all

For that is forgiveness, that is His call

I scream and I shake my fist up at the sky

That is too much to ask of a man, Lord, not I

You don't know how I've suffered or what they have done

I'll be dammed if I'll give in and show them they've won

Then a still, quiet voice wells up from inside

Wells up through the mire of my hatred and pride

And a vision of Jesus, in pain, on the cross

Overcomes me and I count my vain pride as loss

The tears start to flow as I fall to my knees

Begging show me forgiveness, teach me, Lord, please

And I see that forgiveness, if faithful and true

Isn't something you try, it is something you do

Have I injured another with my unkind words

Or have I been offended by what I have heard

I must go to my loved one, my brother, my friend

To forgive them and put our harsh words to an end

For as long as a brother remains unreconciled

My witness and love for my Lord are defiled

Seventy times seven, how much would that be

In the light of my Savior and eternity

How much must I endure, how long must I forgive

Until I am broken, and as long as I live

By Frank Carpenter ©

There is Someone

Perhaps it’s just me, but this seems to be another one of those weeks when a host of folks in my extended circle of acquaintance are struggling with major issues, mostly in the area of health. This morning, one friend’s father underwent an operation for prostate cancer. Another friend’s dad was in the hospital to have a pace maker installed. One friend is struggling with marital issues. And to top it off, a relative who has been fighting pancreatic cancer just received the diagnosis yesterday that she is now in stage 4 and incurable. That makes it a pretty big week … and it makes my own problems seem pretty small. What do you tell people who are going through such things? What hope or wisdom can we offer them? Modern medicine is a wonderful thing, yet it has its limits. While we hope for cures and resolution on these overwhelming issues, there are deeper questions to be answered. When folks go through such things they often come face to face with the big questions about life … and afterlife. When you stand at the brink of eternity and gaze down into the chasm of its unknown depths, well that can be pretty disconcerting. I don’t have all the answers. However, there is comfort in knowing who does know those answers: God. If you disagree with me, then things can appear pretty bleak indeed. But for those who know Him, they have the hope of a valiant rescue from the darkness which lies beyond the brink of that eternal cliff. That selfsame God also offers comfort to those who are in distress and wisdom to those who would but ask for it. Do you know a person who is teetering on the brink of disaster, or are you perhaps even there yourself? God has the answers, God is the answer. He’s there, and He listens. Is the darkness closing in? The Lord can be a light in that darkness. Yes, there is someone who can help. Ask Him.

There is Someone
There is someone who pierces the darkness
When it seems to be closing in
Who honors the faith of a weary soul
Even when it is growing thin
There is someone who gives His strength
To the lonely and to the weak
Who promises that He shall be found
By all who earnestly seek
There is one who hears the faintest cry
Who feels the smallest tears
Who sees beyond the clouds of doubt
And comforts the deepest fears
There is someone who is a friend
One whose work is never done
He has the power to help and heal
His name is Jesus, God’s own Son
By Frank Carpenter ©

Well Done

Well Done
All of us want our lives to count, to mean something. Of course, we each define that in a different way. Some people climb mountains, others build things, still others strive to leave their legacy in written words or upon painted canvases. Naturally, what we choose to do with our lives
has much to do with how we think those lives will be judged, or by whom. If we live to please the critics, be they art, literature or otherwise, their values will become our own. If we live to gain honor in the court of popular opinion than our acceptance therein will rule our actions. The list goes on and on. So the big question in life remains, “What is your purpose in life, whom do you serve?” The critics can be a fickle bunch and their elusive approval can prove a lifelong torment. The opinion of the crowd can also prove a wicked task master. The fact is that you just can’t please everyone. In the end, we must choose who we will please, who’s opinion really matters. For those who believe there is a God and a life after this one, the time usually comes in their life when they realize that God is the only one truly worth pleasing. After all, His opinion out ranks, and outlives, all others. The praise and acceptance of men can bring great joy, but it is a fleeting thing. Rather, we should strive to please and honor the one being whose opinions and existence are everlasting. I have had my very modest share of the handshakes, applause and praise of men, but even the prospect of an entire lifetime of the same pales in comparison to one thought which looms in my mind. Once all of our deeds are done, and certainly unalterable, there will come a moment when each of us will stand before the holy God of the universe and feel his all knowing gaze pierce to the very depths of our souls. At that moment the praise of men will amount to no more than a grain of sand in the dunes of eternity past. And at that critical juncture of our existence, what could mean more than to hear our Lords utter the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Now there’s a reason for living … and living well.

Well Done
Perhaps I consider far too rarely
When thinking the deeper thoughts
That life is entirely too short
And I fail to live it as I ought
I don’t spend enough time with family
Or in worship or prayer or song
And too often I let myself be swept
Along with the rest of the human throng
I overlook the needs of my neighbors
And the people who matter most
Often trading the simple pleasures
For those about which I could boast
I don’t spend enough of life barefoot
Wasting too much on what I regret
Not enough in the forest or mountains
Missing too many sunrises and sets
I want to live a life that matters
One that counts for what I believe
A life in which love and compassion
Are the measure of what I achieve
So that when I look back from glory
From beyond my last setting sun
My Lord may proclaim at the judgment
“Good and faithful servant, well done!”
By Frank Carpenter ©

Landfalls

Today, I write from the bridge of a boat somewhere off the coast of Mexico. As we approach the U.S. border and the skyline of San Diego looms on the horizon, a surge of excitement begins to well up from within. San Diego holds no particular interest for me, but I adore almost any landfall. Now I’m a sailor so ocean ports instill a certain fascination in me, yet climbing out of an airplane, a bus, a train, or even a car warms my heart as well. I find myself enamored by even the most modest of adventures. Actually, all of life is an adventure and learning to relish the little passages along the way, with their assorted landfalls, can help to make our journeys all the more interesting. Even if you think you’re headed nowhere right now, I can assure you that it’s still somewhere. Every trip, however seemingly insignificant, can have purpose and value. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter what direction you’re traveling. Often the destinations can be less important than how you get there, who you’re with, what you think about en route or who you help along the way. My hope for you is that you may discover some interesting places to go and enjoy their requisite landfalls. However, even if you are merely commuting to work, it can have value. The simplest life can still be lived richly if it is imbued with meaning through your own personal view of it. When we are interested, life is interesting. As I conclude this writing,
my bows are now pointed out to sea once again. Ahead of me, the horizon is empty, devoid of land, other boats, and the like. On this clear winter day, with nothing but endless blue stretching out for dozens of miles, I feel as if the possibilities are endless … because they are. Before dark, however, we’ll be snug at harbor with another happy landfall under our belts. For me, that will be a bittersweet moment for this current voyage shall have come to an end. Yet, for the moment, my heart and mind are left to wander out across the broad expanse of the Pacific Ocean where I can imagine countless undiscovered landfalls which beckon to me from distant shores. In the mean time: good company, good sailing and good bye.

Landfalls
Perhaps the sweetest part of the journey
Is the landfall, once it=s reached
Be it airport, depot or the sand
>Neath a skiff, once it has beached
With the toils of the journey done
And adventure ahead and at hand
Landfalls bring to fruition
All the wonder of what was planned
The desert, the mountains, the shoreline
Whatever your paradise be
A landfall is the first kiss
Once the journey is history
I love the planning and plotting
And the adventure along the way
Oh, but the sweetest part of it all
Is stepping onto the quay
By Frank Carpenter