Bangladesh (Photo credit: aftab.)

My heart is heavy, thinking about those people who were buried, and who died, in the collapsed building in Bangladesh. I read in Sunday’s paper that rescuers are still finding some survivors, but the faint calls of survivors are turning fainter. I haven’t read the paper today.

For some reason, I thought those who died in this Bangladesh horror are mostly women, gone from here, now safe in heaven, safe from all harm. I thought of all the women sewing, making garments for other people. I thought of not buying garments for myself, at least for a while, out of respect.

Today my morning devotional, in “Streams in the Desert” is about “faith‘s tenacity,” which is that “determined” ability to see things through, according to a Princeton website dictionary.

The devotional said we have to “take hold” of faith, then “hold on” to faith, then “not let go” of faith. Sometimes it’s too difficult. Sometimes Jesus has to hold on to our faith, when we are too tired to hold on.

But Jesus cannot deny Himself. Jesus will keep our faith, through His inexhaustible strength and His amazing love, and His tender mercies. Jesus understands our sadness, when people die, or get hurt. He weeps too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6_MIiTbS8k

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Today, earlier, I felt resigned, about many things, and about what happened, in Boston.

Then later, walking into the library, I felt confused (and invalidated) when I mentioned my sadnesses to an acquaintance. (He had asked).

But the acquaintance gave bad answers, to all my sadnesses. He had an answer for everything. He said of the Boston massacre, “They’ll just party again soon.”  That was his Bible answer, from the book of Judges, he pointed out. So now I never want to read the book of Judges. I’m lucky never to have read any of the Bible all the way through. The Bible is a violent book.

This morning I was thinking, God put the life in the blood and There Will Be Blood. (But I don’t recommend the movie, which is hateful).

In this life, as long as there is life, there will be blood. In this life on Earth, along with the good, there will be murder and maiming and mayhem, as long as there’s any life left, because God put the life in the blood.

So this song, “Be Still My Soul” has been going through my mind. I first heard it at a Cumberland Presbyterian church. I hope the song helps, in some way.

“How long, O Lord, must I call for help, but You do not listen?

Or cry out to You, ‘Violence!’ but You do not save?

Why do You make me look at injustice?

Why do You tolerate wrong?

Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.” (Habakkuk 1: 2-3)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDkFL7yCGps

English: 2006 Jeep Wrangler TJ Golden Eagle Edition (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One of my neighbors died over the weekend, but hold on. I’m not gonna leave you here with just that news, because God gives a gift in it.

This neighbor was a real man who was known by a nickname. He was usually alone, and could be any man, but I’m going to give him a fictitious name, to protect his privacy. Here, I’m going to call him “Johnny,” because his hard-scrabble life, which showed all over his whole self, reminded me of the musician Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash understood hard time.

My neighbor owned a Jeep Wrangler. He liked to wear some kind of camouflage and a sharp-looking wide-brimmed hat, with a long coat in winter. Some people used to complain that Johnny’s Jeep took up a parking space and he rarely, if ever, drove the Jeep. (People should understand that keeping  your ride helps keep your dignity).

Last night, I felt sad, seeing Johnny’s Jeep outside in the parking lot.

I parked my car beside it. Johnny kept his Jeep clean, although it’s old and rustic-looking, but not rusty. It’s the kind of Jeep with a tough fabric top and roll bars, open all-around.

The tread on the Goodyear radials is still good and the Jeep is a four-speed or five-speed, with maybe two clutches (?) extra pedals. I looked on purpose, but don’t know enough about vehicles to describe the Jeep just right. Johnny had taped over the top of the stick shift, where I’ve seen those speeds diagrams.

When I was out there looking at that Jeep, I felt mournful about Johnny, which is strange, to feel that way about a stranger, but it just shows how we are all connected somehow, and how each life matters. There was cloud cover last night and no stars could be seen and the train that runs nearby roared by, like a loud page turning.

The license plate on Johnny’s Jeep said “Polk” so I drove out to Polk County, Tennessee, on the open highway today, driving to feel better, lonely, with nothing else to do right now, with the window rolled down in my car.

I parked at the edge of the Cherokee National Forest sign and sat down and there was such beauty there, it looked like somebody painted it, with pine trees and shadows and light breezes and tiny lavender flowers with white centers and another kind of plant with delicate fuzzy blooms and water, the lonely lapping sounds, shimmering like diamonds, only better.

There were two men standing up in a boat, on Parksville Lake, so there were just the three of us, as far as I could see. The men stood and fished for a few minutes, very quiet and peaceful. Then they sat down and I heard the boat motor and the men in the boat. They went on through the water. The wake of that boat was so solitary and beautiful and gentle and pure. Finally, they disappeared on down the lake, looking for other places to fish, I guess.

Today, I believe God gave all this to Johnny, and He’s given this to all of us too, for Lent.

We know Johnny’s okay now, further on up the road, with God, and lots of friends. Isn’t God good, the way He pays such close attention, to each and every individual life, including us. Jesus said happy are the sad.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpIKQaIVA08

Soul Survivor by Philip Yancey (Photo credit: Jordon)

Then again, and yet, America also has preachers like Philip Yancey, a Christian writer who speaks the truth in love, who preaches the Good News of the Gospel, going to the best and worst of places, in the best and worst of times, shining God‘s light.

I found Yancey’s book “What Good is God? In Search of a Faith That Matters” at Books-A-Million. Yancey’s excellent book is also wonderfully illustrated, in shadow and light, by Klaus Ernst. The book’s copyright is 2010, but Yancey writes real and always relevant.

Topics Yancey and Ernst cover in this book include life’s tragedies, and how God reaches out to people in the highest and lowest places, performing His good will, although, so much of the time, it doesn’t seem good. In the first chapter, Yancey explains that this particular book about faith started as he and his wife were completing a tour to five cities, sponsored by his publisher.

The couple’s last stop in that tour was in Mumbai, India, in 2008. “As it happened,” Yancey writes, “that was the horrifying night when terrorists attacked tourist sites with grenades and guns, killing 172 people.”

Title chapters indicate wide-ranging places and times and events, including all humanity. They include: “Virginia Tech: Campus Massacre”; “China: Winds of Change”; “Green Lake: Professional Sex Workers”; “Cambridge: Remembering C.S. Lewis” and “Memphis: An Alternative Vision.”

There are other chapters, all timely, and timeless. I hope you can find a copy of this book by Yancey, illustrated by Ernst. Recently, I highlighted a passage from the chapter “Middle East: Church at Risk.” Yancey, an American, wrote: “How differently would the world view my country if it associated the U.S. with ‘the Jesus Syndrome’ rather than with weapons, wealth, and the ‘Baywatch syndrome”?

It’s a tiring and difficult battle and sometimes we fail. But we don’t have to worship the golden calves in America, or anywhere. We can get God’s Good News of Jesus out to the whole world, as best we can, here, there, and everywhere, to the ends of the earth.

Jesus gave us the Great Commission, to take the Gospel’s Good News unto all the world, from wherever God happens to have us, right now, in this place.

So today (emphasis mine) from Isaiah 40:9, New King James Version, we offer a Holy Shout!

“O Zion,

You who bring good tidings…

‘Behold your God!”

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Preacher, c. 1830, Art Institute of Chicago (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A UPI.com article by Kate Stanton dated today confirms the MSN video, with preacher Pat Robertson telling old ladies to look pretty or stay lonely.

You need to see it for yourself, to believe it. It’s “Christianity” at (some of) its worst. “Look. See Pat splash!”

Preacher Pat of the “700 Club” thinks he’s a holy see or something. But if you see Pat doing something selfish, do just the opposite, then it might be holy.

I don’t even know if Pat apologizes when he blames earthquakes and hurricanes (and now bad marriages) on certain groups of people.

So here we are, in America today in January 2013, with the golden calf-dom preacher Pat, preaching about how it’s all up to the woman.

It’s notable, and terrible, that Robertson reportedly blamed the mother (mothers are easy to blame, Pat said) when a teenager asked how to get his dad to love his mom.

There’s not enough room, is there? Pat’s taking our breath away, again. Dear woman, and dear man too…don’t follow Pat. Follow Jesus. (I’m mixing metaphors, but you understand).

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Ounianga Lakes in the Sahara Desert (NASA, International Space Station Science, 11/14/09) (Photo credit: NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center)

It’s Thursday, but each time I’ve tried to write something today, nothing happens.

Eventually, I listened to some music and then checked out a book by the writer Lee Smith at the library. The book is called “Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger.”

Then I was walking home, but thought of you and wanted to say something, so you’ll know what’s going on.

Sometimes we don’t know what’s going on, exactly, but we keep on going.

My words are on “pause” right now.

That’s what happens sometimes.

One of my friends wrote a poem, about when a sigh turns into a song. Maybe that’s what’s happening. God is working.

Thank you for waiting with me, while God is working. In John 5, Jesus said His Father is always working.

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English: A marshmallow that has been roasted over an open flame. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was hard over at the center today, what with people pushin’ and shovin’ again and the sly blade too. The sly verbal (or non-verbal) blade (this time a woman) hurts most, straight to the heart, the unkindest cut. It’s hard to take the blade, if your heart feels like a marshmallow.

Marshmallows are good, once in a while. I don’t like the sweetsie puffy marshmallow stuff from a jar, but I like regular marshmallows, charred brown and almost burnt (controlled and careful burning), melting in the middle, on a stick.

Remember the “sit-upons” some of us made for camping trips? We did that in Girl Scouts. We stitched together (did I stitch?) some kind of oilcloth (waterproof) material into something we could sit upon, outside, on the ground.

Many years ago, in yet another Sunday School class, we started talking about camping out, of all things. (Jesus camped out a lot. Maybe that was it). Anyway, one honest man said: “I like to camp out at remote Holiday Inns.” That sounds better than rain and cold and the occasional scorpion in the tent. (Been there. Done that. Long ago).

Still, what can we do, when God lets the hard-hearted and frightening things (and people) hurt us inside, to mellow our hearts?

When I was driving over here, I had to slow down behind a little improv golf cart, hauling big blue trash cans in a wagon. It made a jangly sound and I glanced under the moving cart and there was some kind of hook or crook metal thing, attached and draggin’ on the pavement, soundin’ exactly like jingle bells.

When you hear that stranger’s jingle bells, and you know it’s not Christmas, it’s time to take care, back off and get away!

Earlier, when I parked and walked toward the library, a bumper sticker fluffed, “Don’t postpone joy.” Hell’s bells. I’m tryin’. Where’s the chocolate?

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A reproduction of the elephant clock in the Ibn Battuta Mall, Dubai. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I was browsing at Books-A-Million on one of the holidays, I found a book called “Incognito: “The Secret Lives of the Brain” by David Eagleman.

I read enough of the book to learn that even the financial meltdown of 2008 can be traced back to the human habit of taking instant gratification instead of waiting for delayed gratification. “Good things come to those who wait,” but we humans struggle so hard to wait, especially if we’re in some kind of pain.

Eagleman talks about all this, and the brain’s part in it. The author informs us that the idea to not suffer some ruins is to make a “Ulysses contract” with ourselves, for resisting temptation in advance. It’s a great and difficult battle, to resist temptation, but our brains can help us do this. It’s a mighty struggle, but our brains are capable of resisting temptation, Eagleman explains.

The German words for resisting temptation, he points out, are “innerer schweinehund” or “resisting the inner pigdog.”

Jesus said resistance to our inner pigdog leaves empty spaces, which we must learn to fill up with good things, which hopefully lead to good places and good practices and other people trying to do good things.

If we don’t fill our lonely emptiness with good, Jesus warns, worse things can happen, damaging our lives and the lives of others. So we must practice looking for the good things and practice doing good things and practice being with the people who are also trying to do good, like helping and disciplines and budgets and exercises and eating well and “first, do no harm” because we are all capable of being healers of humanity, in some little or big way.

We can help heal ourselves too, and God helps, if we ask. (And one step to healing ourselves must be to stop beating up on ourselves (it’s so hard!) for not knowing enough soon enough. “Be Sweet to Yourself,” like a McDonald’s cookie. It’s a good idea).

So, I signed up for more classes and also called the CSCC business office and planned a meeting, for planning something good. I’m here at the CSCC library again, hopefully about to check out what looks like a good book called “Faith Bass Darling’s Last Garage Sale” by Lynda Rutledge. The book flap says the book is about second chances and changes—and God.

At the top of the first page, there’s a fictional ad, about Faith Bass Darling’s garage sale. It says, “Louis IV Elephant Clock, signed by C. Balthazar.” Doesn’t that sound like a good story?

Isn’t it good, the way you can check out a good book at a good place, for nearly nothing, at a library? Libraries are such good news.

The holidays were really stressful and hurtful and lonely, mostly. I don’t have a printer at home and was afraid to write without one. It felt like trying to jump without a parachute, so I didn’t write.

But it’s good to be back. *Thank you* for waiting. 

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Deutsch: Mosaik aus Ravenna, (Berlin, Bodemuseum): Christus Victor mit Erzengeln Michael und Gabriel; Museum für Byzantinische Kunst, Bode-Museum, Berlin. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The World Challenge Pulpit Series newsletter arrived in the mail today, just in time, with saints wearing out.

My neighbor Trudy told me there’s a book, about how the devil can wear us down.

But, recently, Gary Wilkerson wrote “Now That the Victory Is Won?” and leaves the question mark.

It’s such an encouraging and inspiring message. I hope you can look the newsletter up on-line, or sign up to receive the newsletters by mail.

Wilkerson writes, in the November 26, 2012 edition: “The forces of darkness are arrayed against God‘s people.”

These evil forces can attack us externally, he said, such as taunts from enemies, or internally, with worries about family or friends, or something else meaningful or painful, or both.

I’m trying not to break any Fair Use laws here, but still get Wilkerson’s message out. What struck me most is Wilkerson’s note that “God sometimes allows our enemy to appear too big for us to handle—and He does so for a reason.”

From the story of David and Goliath in I Samuel 17, Wilkerson encourages us to trust in God instead of our own strength and abilities.

“This is the age-old lesson of Christus Victor,” Wilkerson wrote. “Roughly translated, it means ‘Our victory is not in ourselves, but in Christ.‘”

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Tennessee State Line (Photo credit: J. Stephen Conn)

First, the lady I gave the $5 to last week for health care paid it back today. She looked happy.

It feels good not to owe anybody any debts. Christians are supposed to owe people a debt of love, but we get tired. We are human. Still, many try.

Jesus wondered if He’d find any faith when He returns to Earth. No wonder He wondered.

Today in Cleveland, there’s a prominent story, on the front page of the Cleveland Daily Banner, saying that a really rich man has donated a whole lot of money to Lee University, which is expanding property lines into “historic downtown Cleveland.”

But last night, at Lee University’s School of Religion, I went to a meeting in Room 247. The room was filled almost to capacity with people, mostly students, who are trying to help stop human trafficking in the Cleveland area, which is a corridor for sex trafficking because of its proximity to I-75, I-24, Nashville and Atlanta.

Dr. Daniela Augustine, a professor of Christian ethics at Lee, attended and helped lead the meeting, where around 30 to 35 people tried to find out what they could do to help stop human trafficking in this area. We were told, by a speaker from Second Life Chattanooga, that sexual slavery is right here in our own neighborhoods, or nearby. It’s horrible and hard to imagine.

But I remember those young people, in room 247 last night. They do not have huge sums of money to help them help others.

It looked to me like those young people are running on all heart, hearts as big as God‘s. That’s why I have to keep faith that God will help them (maybe us) pay that staggering debt of love, to help humans who have nobody else to help them.

Earlier today, on a car in the Lee library parking lot, I saw a bumper sticker that said, “Find Your Strong.“

Last night, I saw all those young people, finding their strong, off the front page.

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