Actions and Attitude

"Men are so simple, and so subject to prone to be won over by necessities, that a deceiver will always find someone who is willing to be deceived.”

-  Machiavelli's, The Prince

Did WE really think God would turn a blind eye to the loosening of the moral fabric in our country? Is it like the director of the new movie 'Noah', "The least biblical, biblical film ever made?"

Each human being, before the Flood of Noah and since the Flood of Noah, has had 1,440 minutes in each day to meet the struggles of life. The greatest distance in these struggles has been the 14 inches from the human brain to the human heart. Most believers and non believers have the attitude shown by their actions: "God save my soul, if I have a soul."

I believe my personal attitude toward the hypocrisy of mankind started with me as a child, nearly 80 years ago. To this day, I still try to reconcile the actions of people to their attitudes. 

In our depression ridden state, most country churches had "preaching" just once a month. Those with transportation would travel to other churches in the community on their preaching Sunday. My Baptist parents would take us, even to the local Quaker church. It was one of the oldest Quaker churches in the South (Nahunta Friends Meeting). There were always relatives and friends at these country churches who would invite us  to their home for Sunday dinner. Just as when these people would visit our church, my mother would invite them to our home for Sunday dinner.

I still remember the Sunday we attended the Quaker Church and a large black limousine was parked directly in front of the church. My inquisitive mind watched everything. At that time in history, many Quakers would go to church in buggies drawn by horses. I can still see the Quaker men helping their wives out of the buggy... those Quaker woman in long dresses, wearing large bonnets. These wives, happy mothers faces had never been touched by "makeup" they did not have small waistlines, but their husbands and children thought they were the most beautiful woman in the world... beautiful in appearance as well as spiritual character. 

Now, who was in the stretch limousine parked directly in front of the church? Most country people had never seen a stretch limousine of that type. The story is, and it is accurate, that many years previously, a local farm boy had left the community under a cloud of crime. Story is, Milford had taken a shot at a Sheriffs Deputy when he had come to serve some papers on his Father for public drunkenness. Milford had fled to Texas, gotten into the oil business as a wildcatter, and made a fortune in the oil business. He came back to the old community (the threat of arrest, his parents now deceased)  showing off his money, and his new position in life. What better place to show off his new self made manhood then at the church where notable people he remembered attended? So there he sat, in that Quaker Church, with his powdered and perfumed wife. 

My family was sitting behind this couple of wealth.  The Quaker service was unique, the time of silence, when any member, as a spirit moved, could stand and testify about the goodness of God. Even to this day, this small boy can still remember the testimony of Ms. Martha Garris, or her brother Mr. Earl Edgerton. These were members of that "meeting" who knew the holiness of God.

This small boy still remembers Milford's modern dressed wife (who probably thought she was in a night club) taking out her compact to powder her nose and paint her lips during the service. Can you even imagine the shock of those Quaker people in seeing such behavior in God's House of Worship?

In my lifetime, this is my 85th year, we have seen America become the world's superpower, capable if so desired, to conquer the rest of the world as did Alexander the great or Cesear in their time. A matter of actions and attitude. 

Milford rode around the area in his limousine, his wife at the wheel. He purchased new-beautiful tombstones for all family member's in their cemetery, as well as new fencing and even a paved road to the cemetery. He purchased land so all relatives could live well, fix up their homes, buy new furniture. His relatives were so proud of his success, his generosity, but to the best of my knowledge: he did nothing for his community. I have wondered many times, how much he put in the offering plate at that Quaker Church on that Sunday morning.

Milford thought he was smart, many of us think we are smart. Satan is so much smarter than we are. Most of us need an attitude adjustment, praying; faith comes much easier in a foxhole, hospital bed, time of poverty. Do we really want a deprived, pretending world? We want friends, family members we can lean on at any time of life, not just after they are rich or successful. 

Old age is not for sissy's, I get so sick of advertisements showing people in retirement, their good teeth, good looks, well sculptured bodies-  is life's objective just to impress? To have the time and money for golfing? God called us to serve, to deny self. 

Luke 9:23 KJV : And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.
#1716

Overwhelming

To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved. In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace; Wherein he hath abounded toward us in all wisdom and prudence;

Ephesians, 1:6-8

Most people treat others the way they are treated. Value is determined by what you are willing to pay. There are values, concepts, theorems that "Modernity" cannot destroy. You are valuable enough that God paid for you through the price of His only son. Jesus purchased on a slave's sale block, redemption through His blood was the sale price. We are a broken fallen people, living in a broken fallen world, a profane world.

The fragile human mind is so easily overwhelmed by the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches, lust for so many things (MK, 4:19). The FBI has a very accurate record of stolen cars, but cannot determine the number of missing children. In a world of brokenness, so many human beings feel they have nothing to live for. They have nothing here and expect nothing there. Overwhelmed by the depravity of life, they seek death. Is it no wonder that so many young people seek suicide? That 22 veterans commit suicide everyday? Small things like scraps of paper, bubble wrap, sawdust are important for a while and then thrown away. To many people, even children, never know love. The only thing we deserve from love is sharing, the true emotion of life. Sunsets, travel, taste are only important when you share them with another. Animals share life, even ants share a "sweet" find. Some plants have a parasitic existence, such as an orchid. Most insects have a parasitic existence, a spider can catch its pray in its web.

This world traveler was on a ferry boat crossing a large harbor in India. Somehow, the ferry began to sink. Sightless, I sat there hearing the natives screaming and deserting the ship. My fellow passengers in the ferry went out the windows to the decks and the lifeboats. I was left deserted, overwhelmed (It happens they got the problem solved and everyone returned).

I so remember the first time I thumbed through my Greys Anatomy... that great classic textbook still used by all medical schools in studying the anatomy of the body... bones-muscles-neurology. I remember the same about every science book which I was expected to master. Anyone can comprehend a book on sociology or history, but it takes a real mind to conquer the sciences. It is easy to become overwhelmed by chemistry and physics. There is a loneliness in intelligence. You are overwhelmed when you consider how much there is to know. You are somewhat overwhelmed when you realize how many people know so little... and could care less. Think of the mire of forgetfulness at the bottom of the hole. Important thoughts which occurred to a mind just one time and never reoccurred, and after centuries the dead still keep their secrets, so many would not know what to do with them anyway. 

Only those things your heart believes are usually true. The scale of injustice weighted by rumors may often become overwhelming. I still remember the rumor started about this writer by a business competitor. I know the cocktail party where the rumor was first broached... that Dr. Morris had been arrested at the Sir Walter Hotel in Raleigh with a prostitute. I felt overwhelmed by such a rumor. I went to my lawyer and told him I wanted to sue. He said, "Don't be foolish. You will just add to the fantasy. Many older men would like to have something like that told about them, it will fade as quick as it started", and it did.

Rumors like corruption, like sin of every type, sneaks upon you in small things. Get control in the beginning. Every alcoholic started with one drink, every theft started with something small. Could I even begin to tell you how many things have walked out of this blind man's house? It just so happens however, that I serve a God that can subtract as well as add, divide as well as multiply. If only politicians-pastors-parents could understand the sovereignty of God.

The secret of waterboarding is overwhelming the subject... he thinks in his mind that he is surely going to die by drowning. The secret of depression is being convinced that you have been disenfranchised, that no one cares. Many experiments have been conducted about this matter. One experiment, a pedestrian in the middle of the road attempting to get across. Those who owned expensive cars would not stop for the pedestrian, but those in "clunkers" would. We have the mistaken idea that philanthropists care.

This writer so remembers how Russia treats its own citizens. I crossed Russia on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Russians on the train, like Russians elsewhere were treated like trash. Perhaps this is the harbinger of our future treatment in Communist America... we already see the signs. There are always sign posts, if you are smart enough to read them as you head towards the bottom.

At the country club, the golf club, even the church yard, people are laughing-unconcerned about this present world and its overwhelming demand to enter a world of "make believe." The greatest sound known to man was a baby's cry in Bethlehem over 2,000 years ago. God went to a cruel cross to deliver us from the overwhelming "hype" of "make believe."

It is much like the insanity of Alfred Nobel making a fortune from explosives, munitions that have brought a death holocaust to children around the world and then naming a peace prize in his name. It is time to hear the voice of that Bethlehem baby, on this side of His cross, 2,000 years later. The overwhelming knowledge that every soul is headed for either heaven or hell. There is no neutral zone.

There will be an answer, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Beatles

Paths of Depression

"A pearl is a beautiful thing that is produced by an injured life. It is the tear [that results] from the injury of the oyster. The treasure of our being in this world is also produced by an injured life. If we had not been wounded, if we had not been injured, then we will not produce the pearl."

Stephan Hoeller

We are amazingly self centered, selfish to the core. A man's heart and mind are incomprehensible to any scientist in spite of what anyone in the scientific world might tell you. Socrates said that "the unexamined life is not worth living." Now, in my 85th year, I am finally capable of looking back at my life, the bouts with depression which have so affected my living. Mine was not a pathology that would have been easily diagnosed. And, as is the case with so many unusual personalities, we are just considered "different."

To this day, I consider life a serious business. I have never had the time or thoughts for casual, undefined talking or actions. I cannot waste one minute of my valuable life watching or listening to FOOLISHNESS, such as we find on television or around some social settings.

Perhaps my depression started just in watching the inequities of life... tired-sweating-routine lives of our livestock... for instance, the work animals, mules who had no past and no future, just the dread of working everyday in the hot sun, eating the same thing day after day. It occurred to me, early in life, that most of the people I knew did not have any more future than the work animals. My parents, grandparents, other people I knew worked-sweated-daily routine, much as work animals. Their only future was getting old-haggard heading to the graveyard. The difference in the lives of human beings from lower animals, they went to church. But the church seemed just so much emptiness, here on the earth, just thinking about "Pie in the Sky."

It was during the Great Depression, poverty everywhere (People forget that 7 million died from starvation in America). My parents-grandparents were landowners... some of North Carolina's first families, actually owned an automobile, yet even they were poverty stricken.

One aunt and uncle, living on a nice farm, inherited from my great grandfather, lost their farm because they could not pay for a mule. They had borrowed money from the local bank (BB&T, the world's worst bank) to replace a mule which had died. Could not repay the money for the price of the mule and the bank seized their farm. Banks are just big ponzi schemes, making money through 97% loans. Then as now, banks are in control of your life, pals and pets of government. I still remember one aunt who stood in line all day attempting to get her money out of the bank before the bank closed down during the Great Depression. The stress killed her. My parents and others were able to comprehend such deceit and dereliction of government, but to me, as a small child, the neglect of God. I went into depression after my aunt's death.

One young mother and her son had moved into an empty house on our farm. The woman had no other place to go. There was some discarded furniture in the house and she had a few things. Her son, Ralph, was about my age and we became friends... one of the few friends I had growing up. My father, with his equipment, prepared large wood piles which we would use both for heating and cooking. My father had 300 acres of woodland and it was Ralph's responsibility to find the limbs and sticks for heating and cooking at his house. I helped him. It was at that time, I learned about Ralph's remarkable mind. He could talk about any type of plant-tree-animal, he knew about the planets. The books from school which he read, he memorized. Yet, to my certain knowledge, Ralph's mind was never put to good use.

More remarkable, every few weeks a very fine car from a nearby town would stop in front of Ralph's and his mother's tenant house on our farm. His mother would go out and get into the car with the man. He would drive up to a path and drive down into the woods. Of course Ralph, my family, everyone knew what was going on. My father would joke about going out into the woods and shooting a gun to scare the 'love for pay' activity. His mother had enough money so she could go to my cousin's country store and buy some groceries. Ralph had been to town once in his life. All of these activities did not bother him, did not bother my family. Evidently did not bother the neighbors or those at the church house. People were doing anything to survive. But, it bothered me and I would sink into depression because of such scenes. The fact that no one seemed to care, family, neighbors, EVEN GOD.

The church house and the school house were the main forces in our home. I still remember "joining the church." No one seemed to care... I did not have one person speak to me about my "decision for Christ" except one aunt, who casually had mentioned that I joined the church. One would think, if God were so important in the lives of these people that there would be much happiness about anyone, especially the child with my ancestral background, taking this stand. The crazed thinking of my relatives, our neighbors, the people in the church, is just a matter of how people, in the church, perform for God. And it was just expected that the son of my parents-grandparents-great grandparents active in this church their entire lives, would just join the line. "If God be for us, who can be against us?" (Romans, 8:31). Most church people I know just want a "checklist" Christianity, a "bellhop" faith. Satin knows that with God, nothingness to somethingness and Satin is only happy when you compromise. My church life has been marked by observing compromising members. My depression resulted more from my own hypocrisy and observing others hypocrisy than any other one single thing. It was when I recognized that Christianity is a "wrestling match" (Ephesians, 6) that you do not have a chance without God, that, "Because greater is He that is in you, than He that is in the world" (1 John, 4:4).

My bad marriages were because of depression, realizing the deceit involved. God worked me over in college, the military, my professional, political, financial activities. I do believe that my disappointment with people was the fulcrum of all depression.

After God arranged for me to sense the entire world (Dr. Morris has traveled around the world 8 times, passport stamped in 157 countries) and I realize that God's chief creation, human beings, different colors, different attitudes... even faiths are very much the same and His business. He is in charge, He is Boss. I cannot become depressed because of the world, its inequities. God has assured me that I am important to Him, that He is all I need. There is no greater blessing for the mind of man, self indulged or not, fragile-sick-crippled-blind. "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee" (HEB, 13:5), my cure and your cure for depression.

Topican of Grace

 

What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?

He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth.

Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.

Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:31-39

Our ancestors came to the shores of America for freedom. The God-Man Jesus AND, he was always God and Man, paid the price that His own justice demanded. Supreme Court Justice, Brandeis was described as an angry man, angry at injustice. There is a remarkable difference in the minds and souls of men. It is the grace of God, unmerited, indescribable that impales forever the goodness-genuineness of a fellow human being. This sightless veteran, child of God, so tires of people who profess their empathy for his condition, but never offer any real help... not even a telephone call of encouragement.

There is no loneliness, often helplessness as traumatic as that of the disabled and the disenfranchised. In a cocoon of self, you are totally dependent on the grace of God. WE KNOW ABOUT THE GRACE OF GOD. I ask you, have you ever once put yourself in the shoes of the blind, the deaf, the crippled in a wheelchair? Have you ever once put yourself in the neurology of the mentally handicapped, or a handicap of any type? How often does my car seek a handicapped parking space, when such spaces are filled by those who are not handicapped.

 Some years ago the owner of a local restaurant actually told this disabled veteran-doctor-taxpayer, "I do not want the handicapped people in my business, because it makes my normal customers feel uncomfortable."

 In my local Baptist Church, and I am no longer a Baptist, a group of widows went out to eat lunch on Sunday. One of the ladies, divorced, a resume of hard times raising wayward children, was unable to dress or entertain like the others. One of these Christians said to me "Margaret is not of our class, but we feel we might help her." I wanted to start singing, "In Christ there is no East or West." When I think of the shame of slavery, "Jim Crowism", discrimination against our fellow citizens because of skin color. Bigotry of fellow citizens because of social and economic status. I am reminded that one man, plus God, and anything is possible. From the poverty of a dirt road beginning, I have tried to be that man. Small but mighty has been the sociological history of this nation. Blacks, 13% of the population, once riding in the back of the bus are now driving the bus. Every politician-news agency-advertisement now caters to the black population. The gays, about 3% of the population have their own agenda which is influencing the social structure of America.

Have you ever considered the plight of the convict who has served his time and is now ready to live a reformed life?, no wonder the rate of return to prison is so great. Have you ever considered the plight of the disabled man or woman, even school child who must face the daily challenges of being "different"? This writer learned long ago that most of his fellow citizens, most of all his family, does not give a damn. This totally blind, 100% disabled, Medical Officer Veteran has been living in this house, which he owns, alone, for over forty years. Over all these years, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of blood relations that have visited me. I have two brothers who have never been in this house. Perhaps I am considered a peculiar-eccentric-religious and political fanatic, but if not a visit, why not a telephone call or a note or even a Christmas card?

 This very day, my driver and I went to a yard sale at a church. We went because it was inside, and it was raining. There was no sign about the denomination of the church, no one to greet us in their activities building. I went to waving my hand asking for assistance. A young girl came over and I asked, "What type of church is this?" She whispered, "LDS." I ask you, why are the Mormons ashamed of their church... it was evidently a very nice building. They send their members up and down the street attempting to influence people, send missionaries around the world (One of my assistants' has two brothers, former drug addicts, converted to Mormonism, now missionaries in Europe). In their own building, why were they so inhospitable to those who they, through publicity, had invited to their yard sale?

 Some weeks ago, I went to another church yard sale, also inside their activity building (Grace Baptist Church) same thing. No one spoke to us, not even to a "Good Morning." Why are people, even those who are supposed to be different, because of their belief in Christ, so afraid of the disabled. I ask you, at your church, how many disabled people do you see in attendance?

Our ancestors came to America seeking religious freedom, seeking opportunity, seeking to live in a responsible way. America because of cowardice, financial-education-spiritual decadence has become just one big crime scene. Much of this can be laid directly at the doorsteps of the church. Because of my treatment as a disabled veteran, I have instructed the trust officer at the bank handling my estate and final arrangements, not to use a flag around my dead body. With respect, you can understand why.

The disabled and the disenfranchised have been left out of the American way of life, kicked out, by the fraternity boy crowd, the country club contingent. It insults God and should embarrass Americans that veterans are homeless and that 22 veterans commit suicide each day.

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus

Woodpile

To be the man in this wicked land underhanded hits are planned

Scams are plotted over grams and rocks

Undercover agents die by the random shots

We all die in the end, so revenge we swore

I was all about my  ends, forget friends and foes.

Tupac Shakur

The most wonderful mystery in the mind of man; that God chose me. Most people attempt to live with what they are given. The believer, rejoicing in the fact that he was drawn by God. "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up on the last day" (John, 6:44). In the stops and starts, the sometimes dreary routine of living, you sometimes try to go back to your dreams, but that door has been closed forever. We cling to certain visuals, there are images in the mind that cannot be erased. There is no eraser powerful enough to erase the image of your own mother devoured by cancer. There is no eraser powerful enough to cleanse from your mind the horrors of war, hearing the screams of burn victims in an army hospital. Treating, there is never a cure. Our fellow human beings, tricked by the medicine bottle, always found in a state of self induced stupor. Dr. Welch of the Dartmouth Medical School has written a book, Less Medicine, More Health. Why do people seek a early rigormortis, slow death by chemicals? Why are people not more careful about what they put in their mouth? I knew two old doctors, Dr. Stenhouse, Dr. Strosneider, who prescribed food for sickness. It was a rare thing for them to prescribe a chemical.

The survival of our early American ancestors was as dependent on common sense as today's tech savvy Americans who are depending on nano-equations. My grandparents, and that was a little more than a hundred years ago, remembered when electric power first came to cities. I was very young when electric power came into the countryside. Before electric power lines, gas lines, everyone depended on wood for heating-cooking. The woodpile was as dependable for survival, as today's WalMart Grocery store. Just as shelves in stores must be replenished, so the woodpile must be replenished. You could not just take away without sometime putting back. When we learn this in other things... we cannot deplete the soil, deplete our bodies, even deplete our education system.

We all know the comfort zones of relationships. We want relationships with our fellow man, even with God, when it is convenient. We particularly want a "bell boy" type relationship with God, just calling on Him when we need Him. Before everyone had a telephone to their head, even before everyone had a telephone in their house, neighbors-family members could just drop by. Life activity was not a matter of scheduling, a matter of convenience.

It is not just God who understands the fraud of convenience... pretending people. I will never understand church members with an IQ above room temperature, who are always late for a worship service. We live in a world of pretending, accepting the fraud of visual comfort, impressing others. Every lawyer has offices with bookshelves filled with books which he has never read. Most teachers have offices and houses filled with unread books. The public is comfortable in a setting of "supposed" knowledge, impressed by college degrees. This applies even in the process of charity. Oh, the conniving of the giving comfort of pretentions (It makes one feel good to give, not knowing where the funds are used). The "do gooder" organizations, even the huge ones (heart, cancer, diabetes, alumni, scouts, clubs) all use a slice of their gifts, but most of the money given is conjured into the lifestyles of their officials. The President of the American Red Cross, United Way, scouting, denomination officials get salaries beyond comprehension. I tire of hearing televangelists plea for funds, even talk about their hard lives. Yet, all these preachers of the Gospel have family members (usually sons) inheriting their status. Just think of it, Billy Graham's family (Franklin makes 2 million a year), Pat Robertson, President of the 700 Club (son Gordon), Jimmy Swaggart, Worship Center (son Donnie), the Schoolers, the Bakers, etc., etc. And then the extortionists in the business-banking world. It is not necessary to talk about politicians. The real heroes of the world are the real men and women who are brave enough to raise children. The American family, indeed families around the world, are on life support. The hardworking, God fearing, taxpaying citizen is in need of encouragement. HIS WOODPILE NEEDS REPLENISHING.

Since this writer has been blind most of his life, I have never had the enjoyment of boating, flying, fishing, golfing. My tax dollars, used for parks, concert halls, bike paths are not used by me. And, much to my sorrow, I must report to you that the disabled are not welcomed at the church house anymore than they are welcomed at the clubhouse. It is obvious that the disabled-disenfranchised cannot impress anyone. Everyone can see our warts. We are the walking wounded, unless in a wheelchair or bed ridden.

We certainly do not impress God, to the real believer, he knows everything... even counts the hairs on your head (Luke, 12:7). I have outlived my friends, family members, associates, so eager to flatter themselves by the clubs to which they belong, the doctors and lawyers who they visited, even the restaurants where they ate (often embarrassing everyone around them with their demands on the wait staff). I will admit, I had a wife who could not boil water, but had culinary taste buds in a restaurant. God help us to replenish the woodpile with real people, unabashed, unashamed in the realities, not the pretentions of living... usually called honesty, truthfulness.

Darwinian Segregation

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,

Over mountain or plain or sea;

I'll say what you want me to say, dear Lord;

I'll be what you want me to be.

Mary Brown

Truth is not new, the Gospel is not new, and, in the bottomless ocean of technology, people still want truth. Basic truth, we came from God and we are going back to Him. There is a very thin line which separates the saved from the unsaved, those who trust in God and those who do not. I often wonder which side many are on, it is hard to tell the difference... language, dress, attitudes, values. I have known so many innocent Christians, check list Christians, they don't do this, they do do that. Most have never known the true joy and mercy of God. Too many Christians, too many churches are like the giant locomotive, so powerful, so full of steam, only powerful when some mere man with a grease can lubricates just the right part.

This writer "can produce" relatives who could shout-stomp-waive limbs at a ball game, but were so completely emotionless at the church when hearing the greatest news in the world preached. In one stale-staid "mainline" church here in this city, one old lady became so filled with the spirit of God, one Sunday morning, after a great anthem and great sermon, she finally could not control herself any longer and just came out with the words "Praise God." An usher came to her and said, "We do not do that here."

For many years, Martha represented UNC-CH, attracting alumni in their giving towards the great school. She is responsible for all of the wonderful articles written about me, emanating from Chapel Hill. We had many wonderful conversations over lunch. The last time she was here, she had infiltrated gang activity in the city of Durham, attempting to bring the Christian message to gang members. The last words I ever heard from Martha, "Tom, God loves those gang members just as much as He loves you." I know that God loves gang members just as He loves government workers, but God loves me more because I trust Him and show my trust by my life, in my life, my habits, my faith in His marvelous grace.

One lawyer told me that gang tattoos do not seduce a jury. Religious tattoos do not influence God. All Christians should be weeping in the valley of tears for gang members, abortionists, and a broken culture-profane mankind who have brought "despite" (contempt) to the spirit of grace. "Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace? (Hebrews, 10:29).

Often, when in a hotel, eating alone, this world traveler will be invited over to another person's table. One night, Switzerland, an older couple invited me to their table to join them. Later she said, "I know you think at our age we have been married for a long time... but we are newly weds. We both lost our companions and we are now happily married." BUT, the husband said, "We were taught that Jesus was the only perfect man in the world, but there was another perfect man, my new wife's first husband." Very few people have ever understood the human mind. Albert Einstein said everyone sits in the prison of his old ideas. Most church members want God in their image, not them made in the image of God. In recent years, government schools, obedient trance from the television screen, everyone politically correct. Young people with whom I have come in contact with have decided our early American patriot ancestors were terrorists. That the Bible, God's word, is racist, that Christians are bigots. Most of us, believers and nonbelievers, are just going through the motions, wanting to live life just inside the line, on "easy street." My ancestors never took holidays, vacations, never thought about retirement.

Early in my private practice, and I was one of the early eye specialists in contact lenses, a man came to me from LaGrange, NC, wanting me to prescribe certain contact lenses, which would enable him to see markings on playing cards that others could not see so that he could win big at the casinos in Las Vegas. Was he any different from the rest of us... just edging across the line. How different would I have been in assisting him across the line. After all, my family-associates-friends would have admired me much more if I had made big money illegally. This man's friends-family would have admired him much more if he had made big money illegally at the casino. Most of us did not win life's lottery, life has been tough. Our country has made us indentured servants because of taxation-regulations and controls.

It is so easy to become bitter-depressed. Satan knows our weaknesses, how hard education, even success, has come to many of us. We know the price we have paid in the military service... that rank always had its privileges. It has been the enlistees from poor homes who paid the price. This was the only job they could get. I still remember the night that a army hospital commander, simply because of his rank killed a four-star general because the commanding officer did not know what he was doing, had not treated a patient in years, but because of his rank took over the patient. The young medical officer from the ghetto who had struggled through school, was a good doctor, attending to the general, said to me, "Watch him kill him." Of course the canons were roaring, the soldiers were standing at attention as the general's casket on a horse drawn caisson proceeded to the army post's chapel. The general's widow went into the funeral service on the arm of the hospital commander.

Learn early that Darwin did not define fairness in animal life, in the survival of the fittest. We have been slow in treating the cancer of indifference. You can't do much about aggressive cancer. You can treat slow cancer. Like a brilliant young man who could have won a scholarship to any university, succeeded in any field of study, said to me with great pride, "Preaching the truth of the Gospel is the only thing worth while for my life."

Pilot Lights

I am a part of the "Fellowship of the Unashamed." The die has been cast. The decision has been made. I have stepped over the line. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still.

My past is redeemed, my present makes sense and my future is secure. I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap giving and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, love with patience, live by prayer and labor with power.

My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable and my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up or slow up until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up and spoken up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know and work till He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me. My banner is clear: I am a part of the "Fellowship of the Unashamed."

This writer feels that he was always on the outside looking in. Astounded that mere mortals wanted to bargain with the Creator of the Universe. Always people think that God needs them. He needs them to worship him. For God to be God, he does not need anything. Rewards should not be our motive for right living, we live right because we are a creation of God. Stand in awe of his holiness.

The wood burning cook stove was invented in Germany in 1557. I so remember my mother, grandmothers building fires in the cook stove in order to cook a meal. I remember sticking a match to kindling to start a fire in a cook stove myself as a child. Each year we would prepare special wood to use in the cook stove. The stoves my ancestors used were referred to as "home comforts." I was raised as was my ancestors on a dirt road without electric power lines, phones lines, water lines, or lines of any type which would bring fuel for any stove other than wood. It was in college that I learned about the gas cook stove, pilot lights. This was before the time of the electric stove. The pilot light is a small gas burner kept continuously burning to light a larger burner when needed, such as in a stove, hot water tank or home heating system. The first pilot light design came about around the year 1820. Of course, my mother and grandmothers were happy with a wood cook stove. Their mothers had cooked in an open fireplace, iron pots hanging over fires. I have here in my house a iron fireplace cook pot which probably came over with my ancestors from England in 1677. God deliver me from politicians, pastors, people who have no understanding or appreciation of what our early ancestors endured.

In spite of ourselves, chosen people of God have, themselves, been pilot lights exhibiting through their lives, through their faith, the evidence of His love.

We still see this evidence, every day, in many ways. This old blind veteran gets Meals on Wheels, a system whereby disabled people, unable to cook (The last time I tried to cook, I almost burned my house down, attempting to cook some eggs). Volunteers deliver meals to these people prepared by the Department of Aging or churches. Yesterday, Nettie and Estelle brought my meal. Nettie is 92 years of age. She brought the meal into the house, Estelle does the driving, but they both wanted to come in and meet me, talk with me. These two wonderful ladies are real pilot lights, spending the sunset years of their lives in real Christian service. For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me (Matthew, 25: 35, 36).

Pilot lights are set of fire, remembered from many sources. One never strays so far from home that he does not remember his family around the eating table, perhaps even his mother's prayer before eating the food. Pilot lights are often ignited because of rejection. This writer has stated from many pulpits, on radio programs "We hear about all the problems of this world, children going bad, prisons full, but it amazes me that most children turn out as well as they do considering from where they came." There are many recurring images in my mind, such as the one I talk about so often, the migrating refugees at borders, a burden on my heart for which I pray everyday. Hungry children dragged along by parents attempting to escape the horrors of war, the Christians in the concentration camps of North Korea. God wanted this Writer-Doctor-Military Officer to sense the depravity both physical and spiritual of people in the poverty of Bangladesh-Africa-Asia BUT, closer home, I so remember the black school house near my home. A clapboard building painted white, "outhouses", water from a hand pump, the only bright thing about that black school and I can see it in my mind 70 years later as if it were yesterday, cutout flowers pasted on the windows, the only things the black children saw of beauty. Each day they passed the brick school where the white children went to school with their inside bathrooms, water fountains. Yet, from these cesspools, depots of bigotry, children got a spark from a pilot light, rose and conquered their backgrounds.

I still remember black teachers who were patients of mine, white teachers who were patients of mine, describing to me the desperation of children who they had taught. Some who went to school and no one had ever taught them even to tie their shoestrings... knew nothing about basic hygiene, but had been drilled into them that they were inferior. In my military career I encountered so many young men and young women (I was stationed on the staff of an army hospital at the WAC Center of the army, Fort McClellan, Alabama). So many young men and young women swallowed up by the military because they had no better place to go. Yet, even from these training facilities, some went on to greatness.

It is God's business what He does with those who do not believe, those who do not love Him. He loves them anyway, in spite of themselves. A person can go to a doctor who they hardly know, take from him a piece of paper with words and writing they do not understand. Then, go to a pharmacy to give the RX paper to a man they do not know, take a bottle of pills from the pharmacy and put these pills which they do not know or understand in their body... trusting the doctor, piece of paper and the one who compounded the pill... wrong diagnosis-chemicals, instant death. Yet, many do not trust the Creator of the Universe, the One who is the pilot light of the entire world. All God requires is trust, in spite of rejection, in spite of the past. The past and the future are Satan's playgrounds. Satan knows we can do little about the past or the future. We only have the pilot light of today.