I had the opportunity to teach on the Baptism of the Holy Spirit . I hope it is helpful in understanding what is going on with the Holy Spirit and the work of the Holy Spirit
HUNTING SEASON – Psalm 91
November 8, 2021Surely, O’ Lord, there is a season for a soul.
Are there boundaries for the hunters?
Are there times when you as the warden
declare some out of season?
He who dwells in your private reserve is free from pursuit.
Safe from those who desire his flesh.
I say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my preserve,
My God, in whom I trust.”
I am the elk hiding in the brush.
“Have I gone too far?”
“Have I crossed a line?”
Driven by forces, I cannot see.
Hunted by an intelligence greater than mine.
They desire my head; a trophy for their case.
They will tell stories of the hunt and boast of my fall.
Patiently pressing, I sense their presence.
They track me; oh, my careless steps.
A weakness to wander beyond the boundary.
Their calls inflamed my desires, blinded my mind.
Will I know when it comes?
When the trap has been sprung?
Pushed into a clearing for a clear shot;
will it be close or come from afar,
the shot that makes me fall?
I fear this day of terror,
When arrow, ball, or bullet might fly.
I must get back.
I’ve wandered too far.
O’ Lord, I am sorry. I need you now.
I am in trouble. I have no way of escape.
Can I make a break for it, before it is too late?
I will make the Most High, my dwelling place.
He will be my green pasture. There is none better.
The Lord will be my refuge; no harm will befall me.
I will not lose my head.
My flesh will be saved from the hunter’s banquet.
They will not boast over my defeat.
I hear the Lord’s triumphant call.
He has come for me.
He knows that I wandered too far.
Safety is in His presence.
I will cling to His side.
I will stay within the boundaries,
established by the shadow of His Holiness.
No longer will I listen to the false calls in the wilderness.
I love the Lord, I will never leave.
“Because he love me,” says the Lord.
“I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation.” (Psalm 91:14-16)
CREATING CRAP
November 4, 2021I have been nurturing a little daydream. “What if I could write something truly meaningful.” Most mornings, the dog and I sit alone with my coffee, Bible, and random thoughts. I write down whatever inspires from these solitary times with a sense that I have touched on something utterly profound. I have been doing this for most of the year and the end of my journal is getting near.
I have had a nagging feeling that something should be done with all the wit and wisdom that resides in this little journal of a book. I thought of my children when I die; that they will appreciate the depth of my thoughts when they discover this little non-descript journal amongst all my clutter. Then I was reminded about how life works. This journal might get saved for another drawer. Maybe, handed down to another generation until at last a destiny as a recycled paper cup.
I love the book, “Markings” by Dag Hammarskjold. It is a collection of his diary reflections. It was assembled and published after his death. It is a wonderful collection of thoughts about God, the practicalities of life, and those intersections. “Maybe, I could assemble something like that”, became my thought. So, I have continued to put pen to paper in the morning hours, trying to think of something serious. My plan became to write a book, a collection of prose and maybe some poetry, just like Dag Hammarskjold.
I have daydreamed about this little book, throughout the year. I have written consistently and most of the time I have been satisfied it was good. “What would a publisher think?”’; “Am I brave enough to try?”; “What about the criticism, could I handle it?”; “Maybe, an ebook on Amazon for $2.99”; “A little extra income would be nice.”; “What if it got popular?”; “Would I be viewed as a sage?” “Maybe, I will be ask to conferences and invited on stage?”
It is embarrassing to admit that I was concerned about pride from literary acclaim, before I prepared something for someone else to even entertain.
We are nearing the end of the year and my journal is three-quarters full. I thought it was time to assemble a few of my profundities. I had a plan of how I would organize them for ease of assembly, editing, and publishing. I was ready to begin this historic pilgrimage.
I read a musing from earlier in the year. I read one from a few days later. I jumped around; months ahead and a few behind. I was shocked in my conclusion, “they were mostly crap”. “How can this be?” “I must be languishing in a morning fantasy.”
The confidence in my ability to write with quality evaporated in that little perusal. Mortified in my belief that I was creating something to sit alongside Dag Hammarskjold’s Markings. Clearly, I do not have to worry about pride in accomplishment. My issue is more pride in delusional grandeur.
I have lost my little daydream. It is okay. Obviously, it is for the best. It was only a matter of time until reality killed it off.
It has made me reflect upon the reasons for striving to create. I don’t do this for the money. My ability to convey a thought in prose and poetry would be more important if it was associated with a paycheck. I do it because I enjoy trying to write something in a way that is interesting (at least for me). I do it because it helps me organize my thoughts. I do it because, in many ways, it is how I pray.
If we like to create, whatever that might be, why do we care what other people think? It is irrelevant to the reasons that we do what we do. I have created a lot of delusional crap. I enjoyed every minute of it; absent any accolades. It has been freeing to remember the joy of creating for merely me.
Maybe, the greatest, purest, joy possible is the secret reward for those who create something that is never destined to be special. The joy is in the creating not the creation. That is what I need to remember.
Dual Citizens
May 25, 2021While I traveled along a narrow path
I crossed from the republic of conscience
Peaceful here beyond my life’s aftermath.
I could hear a Dove’s long call unconscious.
Immigration was a confusing ease.
An old man smiling wise my constant guide.
In his hand a list of names set aside.
Amongst those there written was mine in red.
Scarlet evidence of passage paid free
Freedom bought from a republic of dead.
Price paid with simple acceptance in glee
The first law in the land of adoption,
A response of love is not an option.
A customs agent asks me to declare
Homeopathic cures and charms for woes.
Remedies to justify are not rare.
Contraband these ways with no cure to show.
Banned what seems right in old republic eyes.
Yet, I sneak some in as if on a dare
Testing my knowledge to explore red’s share.
Will power against words or thoughts impure.
Contraband to a fee already paid
An add that contains a hidden allure
of earning an entrance the debt to evade
An abhorrent desire to claim a share
of the purchased glory dimming its glare.
Monarch’s commands reveals laws to observe.
Laws interpreted as burdens to bear.
No Sherpa to call. No other can serve.
You carry your own burden with fanfare.
Soon symptoms of creeping privilege show.
The right of an earned citizenship.
Entitlement transformed from kinship.
But what count of burdens borne is enough?
Is one offense sufficient to revoke
a name from the Custom’s list as a bluff?
Contraband declared should not provoke.
One cannot add to merit adoption.
A response of love is not an option.
Tempted to recline here at the border
Passport in hand, retirement at last
A chronic compulsion calls to order.
Wonder compels distance from shadows past
Progress hard won but must go on, go through
Only course is forward answers to find
Will not turn back, sorrows have been declined
Stumbles and falls all part of wonders draw
Every tumble dislodges a treasure
Useless trinkets, burdens progress does stall
Remorseless for trifles of displeasure
Should have heeded customs agent advice
Journey easier fueled by loves devise
The path I walk different than before
narrow, cobbled, disfigured by roots
Curious dust more at home on a shore
Troublesome filth that coats from hat to boots.
Not a fine dust that can be beat away.
Each step aerates more crystals minerals
Air full with particles not minimal.
I am covered with icicles of white.
Caked by the lands prized symbol salt.
New or old told by its reflected light
Encrusted clothing worthy of a vault
Evidence of citizenship granted
a walk into what love has transplanted
Ahead a statuesque form in motion
Reflecting a glow ever growing
Beyond yet beside in full devotion
Chronic surprise astonishment owing
Kindness presenting an ideal as real
Salt constantly swirling and alluring
Drawn to one with no false assuring
Truly disclosing custom’s hidden hoard
No loss shown by robed riches gained
Every illicit trifle long ignored
A man of stone matured through years sustained
Expert nurturing particles of taste
Clothed in treasure attracted without haste
My companion and I journey along
Old republic traveled in parallel
Saltless person we meet blind and headstrong
My companion heralds fear to dispel
The custom agent asks him to declare
Insults ensue, words viewed like death and rot
Guides sad note, at the border he is not
He looks me in the eye beckons me see
More new than old it is obvious now
Declared dual citizens both are we
Ambassadors to what love can allow
Sharing news of the land of adoption
Where love abounds desiring no options.
This is my first attempt at writing a sonnet; I hope I followed all the rules. My inspired came from “From the Republic of Conscience” by Seamus Heaney.
But Rather
March 15, 2021
Remember the “but rather”. We all will offer out bodies up as instruments today. Let’s choose wisely. Let’s choose righteously.
QUOTE (Noreena Hertz) 3-8-21
March 8, 2021Those who don’t think they need people or fellowship, might be the lonely ones in the most need of both.
QUOTE (Elon Musk)
March 4, 2021I have had several conversations with young(er) people who can’t afford a home and are not optimistic about the future. They are struggling with hopelessness.
My tendency is to feed and confirm that skepticism. The messaging of doom and gloom is not unique.
I have been wrong for my part in those attempts at predictions. We are making bets on the future through our words, with no skin in the game.
It is a form of pride.
It is harmful when we as leaders make predictions of forbodings without remedies of hope. The predictions might be right. I don’t know. What I do know is that it is not kindness to tell someone something they already feel and add to their hopelessness.
We should help them. The help might be as simple as reminding them that they are not alone. It might be helping them practically navigate a chaotic world to find that bright day. Hope comes with the discovery of their plan. Their unique plan for a bright future, a hopeful future. The kindness comes in assuring them that they are not alone.
That is kindness. That is the golden rule.
QUOTE (Noreena Hertz)
March 3, 2021
I have started reading a disturbing book, The Lonely Century by Noreena Hertz. My tendency is to respond with some trite phrase as “suck it up buttercup” . However, I think we may be beyond appeals to bootstraps and suspenders. We are all experiencing fundamental changes in the societal norms for interaction that we need to seriously address.
A Bit of Advice – Relational Currency
February 27, 2021
The rise in the valuation of bitcoin has me thinking about currencies. There are traditional currencies like the dollar and cutting edge currencies like bitcoin, but there seems to be a currency that contains real wealth that few consider. There is a currency that gets transacted upon in every aspect of our lives but I have never heard it discussed in terms of currency. Relational currency might be the most significant medium of exchange you handle.
Are not relationships of tremendous value to you?
What if you were to categorize the relations in your life in terms of the currencies from the United States, Venezuela, China, Bit-Coin? All currencies fluctuate in their valuation. Most of those fluctuations are associated with the stability, the retained wealth, and long-term potential of the entity behind the currency. Consider the relationships we value the most. Those valuable relationships tend to be stable. You can count on that other person to consistently respond in a predictable trustworthy manner. High-value relationships are those that you can rely upon.
I have relationships that are as stable as the US Dollar. In times of crisis, I move my other relational speculations back into these high-value people because I know they are going to be there for the long-term. I know other people value them. They are widely considered wise.
I have relationships that have devalued faster than the Venezuela Bolivar. There were events that made me question the fundamentals of the relationship. These are the relationships that I put at arms length when character issues arise that indicate an untrustworthiness. At best, these devalued currencies have to be hedged against.
I have relationships that I suspected are as manipulated as China’s Yuan. Many people will tell you what you want to hear just to try to get something from you. Often, the thing they want is something that you would have been willing to give without all the manipulations. It tends to be all about appearances. It is unfortunate, but it is what it is. These relationships are valued for what they can provide today but the future is always uncertain.
I have relationships that are so confusing but represent such an intriguing upside that you have to play it out, just like bitcoin. These are the folks that represent the wild-ride of life. They will take you to incredible highs and devastating lows. These are the folks that you can’t go all-in on. You can have them in your portfolio of relationships, but do not get overextended on the number of these folks in your life. They will drive you crazy. (note: do not marry a bitcoin person)
There are two sides to every relational currency. I control only one side. My goal is to be the type of person that has the fundamentals of a high-value relationship. I want other people to be able and willing to highly value their relationship with me. This goal requires that I adhere to a set of character standards which are inherent to a stable relationship. I know that the value of my relationships can dip on the most trivial of fluctuations in an expected response. I am continually amazed at the disregard that is often given to these trivial elements of relationship that have significant impacts upon a relationships valuation.
I manage employees. I am not a micro-manager of employees. This requires that I trust those whom I am managing. It requires that I have a high-value relationship with my employees. High-value relationships do not just happen upon the first day of employment. These relationships are built over time. Trust is not a right. It is a privilege. It must be earned. I must earn it as an employer and employees must earn it with me. This happens through an accumulation of a variety of signals over time that demonstrate someone can be trusted. These signals lie among the trivial decisions that every person makes. It is shocking how naïve people are to this basic principle.
I have people lie to me on a regular basis. They are not big lies, more like minor deceptions, mis-directions, exaggerations. I know that they are ignorant to my devaluation of our relational currency. I know they are ignorant to it because I often don’t tell them. The issue is trivial but the ramifications are not.
As an example, it is very illustrative how employees manage their “paid time off” (PTO).
- There becomes a trust issue, when an employee goes on vacation, has handed off all her projects, yet logs more work hours than PTO at the beach resort.
- There becomes a trust issue, when an employee consistently does a little bit of unnecessary work on their day off because it looks like they are gaming the system.
- There becomes a trust issue, when an employee is “working” from home but cannot be reached for hours or doesn’t complete what normally should have been done. There probably should have been a mixture of PTO in that work day.
These trivial issues are never about the value of PTO. It is about the devaluation caused by the doubt in the relational currency. I absolutely hate discussions about the proper use of the trivial amount of a 1/2 hours use of PTO. I just want to trust them. I want to trust their integrity and honesty. I want to trust them not because I am worried about getting ripped off on a 1/2 hour of PTO. I need to trust them because I have much more valuable responsibilities that I hope to give to them.
If I have doubts about their trustworthiness in managing their PTO, such a small thing, I cannot trust them with responsibilities that have significant consequences. As an employer, I have found that employees either have integrity or they don’t. It is difficult for me to change that. We can create a company culture that values and encourages integrity, and that is worth doing. However, some will just play along; a manipulated currency if you will. It is really hard to distinguish between the honest and the manipulative.
Therefore, if you are a person of integrity, do not get lackadaisical on the trivial. Do not inadvertently plant a kernel of misplaced doubt. Do not be naïve in thinking the trivial does not matter. Everyone’s relationships fluctuate. The valuation of these relationships have significant implications for the future.
The Biblical principle is true. Those who are dishonest in the little are likely to be dishonest in the large. Those who are honest in the trivial can be trusted with the significant. How you handle the trivial might just be your path to the significant.
A DEVOTED LIFE 