LOVE FIRST…LOVE MOST

Face-plant—to fall suddenly and face-first, often resulting in an embarrassing situation.

Have you ever thought or dreamed about becoming a writer?

My mother was a high school and college English teacher. She taught writing skills. She wrote occasional newspaper and magazine articles.

She wrote her books on the hearts of her students. Her most noted works were transcribed into the hearts of her three sons. Subsequent volumes were imprinted in her grandchildren.

I never enjoyed writing. I preferred sports, television, and an occasional math lesson.

I wish I had read more, thought more, and written more. Some of you might have similar wishes.

Here is your opportunity to write a short story. I will provide a “Writing for Dummies” guidebook. That description is vague enough to include either the writer or the readers.

First, you need a subject. There are so many to choose from, but personal stories can add a flair of entertainment which engages the readers to think of similar people or events in their lives.

You could dive into romance, comedy, or mystery thrillers. Your style might cater to food, travel, education, political commentary, or science fiction.

Today’s writing assignment is a simple personal story with a catch phrase for the readers. Follow along and make your own notes. Remember, this is for “dummies.”

PART 1: Develop a storyline.

1. The subject: I faceplanted on a watermelon this week.
2. Initial reaction: No way! Yes way!
3. Introductory reflection: It was a new lifetime experience. It had never been on my bucket list.
4. Wide lens observation: This was extremely embarrassing.
5. Thematic thread: I hope no one else witnessed this; so, I can describe it as a fictional short story.

Now, you are ready to write.

See the event happening in your mind. Place it on continuous replay. Look for the details and the reactions.  

Consider the event from several angles. How would this look and feel to you? What would others see and how might they react? What would they say? Is there a lesson to be learned?

PART 2: Put your thoughts on paper.

1. Develop the context. Let me give you an example.

It was late Sunday evening when I stopped at the grocery store. I had been gone all day. I was dressed in gray slacks and a black polo shirt. I had slipped into my flipflops for the ride home.

As I approached the front of the store, I noticed the watermelon display and thought of my wife and company back at the house.

My first decision was finding a melon with telltale signs of being ripe and juicy.

That led to another small decision that would have big consequences. Should I go inside to get a shopping cart to return to load the watermelon? Or maybe just carry the melon toward the store’s entrance with its automatic opening doors and place the watermelon inside the shopping cart? To save time, I chose the latter.

2. Point to the main event. Let me give you an example.

My recollection of the next phase was a blur, not from the action speed but from the resulting concussion.

I picked up the chosen prize-winning watermelon and turned toward the store’s entry less than ten yards away. My left flipflop snagged on the corner of the wooden pallet supporting the large container of watermelons.

I began to stumble forward, tightly holding the watermelon with both hands. Three quick steps. Right, left, right.

At this point, my body was leaning far too forward to recover. It was no longer a question of whether I would fall, just where and how hard.

One possible landing site was to burst through the large glass entry doors which did not have time to automatically open as I approached from the left. The other option was to abandon liftoff and go down with the plane, in this case, the melon.

3. Add colorful commentary to paint the scenario, in this case, mostly red. Let me give you an example.

Two more rapid steps and then in the words screamed by the infamous sportscaster, Howard Cosell, “Down goes Frazier!”

That is how Cosell described the surprising knockout of the undefeated champion, Smokin’ Joe Frazier, by the upstart challenger, George Foreman in the second round of the heavyweight boxing championship fight in Jamaica.

“Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!”

Cosell’s caption became a social catchphrase to describe someone humorously stumbling, tripping, or falling down.

The legendary exclamation had time to ring in my ears. Yep, all one had to do was change the name of the defeated foe. It was the perfect articulation of what everyone was thinking at the moment. “Down goes the Dummy!“

As each repetition rang through my dumbbell, I moved closer to the knockout. First, my knees hit the pavement, tearing the slacks and the skin.

I extended my arms as I clung to the watermelon, hoping to achieve some sense of balance. The repetitious exclamation rang throughout what was left of my empty mind. “Down goes the Dummy!”

Next to join the concrete slab was my left shoulder and then my hips. It hurt! A week later, they still do.

Then the coup de gras! It is pronounced the Q-D-Gra. There was a time in my life that I thought this phrase referred to a big moment in life.

It is a French term which literally translates to “a blow of mercy or grace.”

Grace is such a marvelous amazing spiritual word. However, in this usage, the phrase describes “A DEATHBLOW DELIVERED TO END THE MISERY OF A MORTALLY WOUNDED VICTIM; IT IS THE FINISHING STROKE OR DECISIVE EVENT.”

It was time to put this poor soul out of his misery. As my head came crashing toward the hardened surface, the coup de gras was my face-plant on the watermelon.

I do not know if I instinctively moved it there to cushion the crush of my head or if some angel softened the blow with a sense of humor.

4. Describe the reactions. Let me give you an example.

I survived the face-plant. As I looked up, the entrance doors slid open. Two young workers stood staring at me. One had seen the whole fiasco fall. The other stood with his mouth wide open, just thinking about the clean-up.

The nice young man asked with concern, “Are you alright?”

Look at me! I am an old man who did a high dive into the cement landing on his knees and shoulder. I face-planted into a mid-sized juicy ripened watermelon. Are you thinking of throwing a party? Am I alright?

I looked at the kind young man and said, “No.” At least I was honest.

I respectfully declined his assistance to help me to my feet. He repeated his question, “Are you sure you are alright?” to which I replied, “I assure you that I am not.”

He was baffled. I was hurt, mostly by embarrassment. As I stumbled to some sense of upright decorum, the thoughtful young man offered me the towel attached to his belt. I imagine it had been in worse places than a watermelon-colored face.

The second young man insisted I let him clean up the mess. He also offered his condolences, “I just hope you are okay. We can report this to the management.”

I insisted with slightly more sarcasm that I was not okay, but there was no need to contact the store management. I did not intend to sue. I imagined the security video would be shown at the store’s Christmas party, hopefully with musical accompaniment.

PART 3: Help the reader discover some worthwhile thoughts from the story’s humorous hijinks or terrible travesty.

1. Highlight your life lesson. For example, last week I wrote about the importance of understanding that GOD SPECIALIZES IN TAKING YOUR MESS AND MAKING YOU INTO HIS MASTERPIECE.

God takes your life story’s mess and turns it into His divine masterpiece, literally, his poem. (Ephesians 2).

•  Suggest some identifiable examples for your readers. There are many examples in God’s Word, each worthy of a soap opera tell-all story, but each designed to give us hope for our lives.

One example would be a man in the running for the worst messed up life in all history. He was the emotional basket-case carrying so many basket-cases that society just called him ‘Legion,” the scary man with too many problems to count (Mark 5:1-20).

Legion was the outcast of all outcasts. He was a man well-acquainted with the drama and conflict of a messed-up life. In fact, in the soap opera world, he would be a mega star.

Yet, God specializes in giving help and hope to those who have lost their bearings and wrecked their lives.

Legion had lost everything that mattered in life. He destroyed his family, shipwrecked his career, and blew up his friendships. His good name became the stuff of demons.

His life face-planted in a darkened cemetery.

The slippery slope story became a nightmare. He was a physical monster, an emotional wreck, and a social outcast. The plot development was saturated with drama inside and outside.

He scared away other people and, yet, he was lonely. His entire life was permanently “out of order.” Frightened people practiced social distancing from his personal pandemic.

Legion’s life was stranger than fiction. The stories about him were a bigtime ratings-grabber. He was a mean, mad man, like a scary monster in the movies, only the tales were real.

The consensus opinion saw him as beyond all hope.

Jesus brought His disciples to love this scary man who was no longer loved or loving. That encounter transformed Legion’s heart, soul, and mind.

Many lonely people go through life like Legion dwelling in the graveyards of greed, gripes, and grumbling. Their wheels fall off. They are among the Walking Dead who fight with family members, wrestle with addictions, and star in social struggles.

They feel desperately alone, alienated, afraid, and ashamed. They hurt and hate. Self-destructive bitterness and self-inflicted misery know them well.

Legion was the poster child of a soap opera world without God, without help, without hope. He was driven by the unrest that was in his soul, running in never-ending circles of nothing but misery. Socially alienated, spiritually unfit, culturally unacceptable.

It was humanly impossible to love him.

Jesus searched for the miserable, messed-up man. Jesus loved him first and most. That was the teaching point for the first disciples and anyone else following Jesus. There is no one beyond the help and hope of love.

PART 4: Touch someone’s heart with your conclusion. Make people want to read more and dream of better days.

1. It seems as if our life stories have a lot of messes in them. God specializes in taking your mess and making you into his masterpiece.

Do you feel as if you are the most messed-up hopeless person on the planet? The Lord knows how to get you rolling again.

Transformed by love, Legion went home packing the most important thing in life, loving God and loving others.

You can, too.

• Most of my messes remain hidden behind the paintbrush of the master artist whose colors are full of grace.

Grace is the undeserved goodness of God as a breath of mercy full of finishing strokes which transform the spiritually mortally wounded heart into a life-giving force, beating with the desire and the power to live and love like Jesus.

God’s grace sends a deathblow to the sinful self-centered wasteland controlled by our soul. It is replaced by a new Lord and new life and new eternal destination of ever-increasing and everlasting goodness and kindness beyond our earthly ability to imagine, much less write in a short story.

POSTSCRIPT 1: This was not my first face-plant. It was the tastiest and most colorful.

POSTSCRIPT 2: It is okay to tell someone you are not okay. Sometimes, you feel like a mess…and it hurts!

POSTSCRIPT 3: Oh, you should be a writer. Write your story for your loved ones, for your children and grandchildren to read to their children. Write encouragement notes to those storm-tossed souls struggling to see hope on the horizon. Write letters of gratitude to those who have touched your heart.

Need a hint; Here is an example from Madi, my seven-year-old granddaughter.

THINK OF SOMEONE WHO HAS TOUCHED YOUR HEART… AND TELL THEM THEY ARE YOUR HERO!

DISCOMBOBULATED.

I woke up one morning this week thinking about the word, “discombobulated.”

DISCOMBOBULATED.

I could not shake the thought. What in the world happened?

Now this is how I imagine my mind works.

There are two marbles rolling around in my head. One left brain marble and one right brain marble. Every once in a while they collide and produce a thought.

It might be seconds or minutes or hours or even days before these marbles run into one another again to cause another thought. Sometimes the thought is connected to the previous thought, and sometimes their collision begins a totally unrelated thread of thoughts.

DISCOMBOBULATED. The marbles had collided in my sleep. I woke to my discombobulated thought. Had I finally joined the “woke” group in our culture wars? Maybe the “woke” people are discombobulated.

I lay in bed waiting for another thought as the two marbles avoided one another in some mind game of “Tag. You’re it.”

Finally, one marble tagged the other. A thought developed. Why am I thinking about the word, “discombobulated?” The silence was deafening. It did leave me perplexed.

In a few moments, the mind game continued. I asked myself, “Why are you thinking about discombobulated?” My mind answered myself, “It is because your body is feeling discombobulated this morning.”

Why? Why? Why? The record was broken as the rhetorical thought circled the empty cavern.

Then it happened. It seems to happen a lot lately. It sounds like a fire alarm going off in my mind. The red-light flashes and the big horn blares its warning: “The marbles have left the building. This is not a test. The marbles have left the building. Stop what you are thinking. Please exit your thoughts as quickly and safely as possible. We repeat, Elvis and the two marbles have left the building.”

No wonder that I was feeling and thinking DISCOMBOBULATED.

After I picked up my slightly damaged marbles, I asked myself why I was thinking about a word that I do not even know what it means.

My English teacher mom used that word. It was always in some negative context. I never remember “discombobulated” associated with a compliment.

Mom always exhorted her three sons to think for themselves. I imagine she hoped we had inherited more than two marbles. Maybe, she knew.

She always asked me her favorite rhetorical question, “What were you thinking?” I usually imagined that any remark at that point would be classified as disrespectful, definitely not reasonable.

My mother gave my new bride two note cards as a wedding gift. One was her recipe for chocolate pie. “Use once every decade” was written on the bottom of the card.

The other note card had this connotation added, “You will need this often.” What was on the card? “What were you thinking?”

Mom dreamed of her sons looking like the famous statue of The Thinker. Dad just hoped we would not lose all our marbles.

Well, I still had two marbles rolling around in this cavernous brain. They collided, and my mind was filled and focused on DISCOMBOBULATED.

I wondered what the word even meant. Maybe it was a dance craze term from the Saturday Night Fever days of long ago. DISCO-bobulated.

Or was the “m” out of place in the word and it was really pronounced disco-BOMB-ulated? It might be a term for some powerful explosive. Perhaps it is what happens when one blows his mind. Well, that thought just bombed!

I was taught in English class that the prefix “dis” means “the lack or absence of something.” Combo refers to a special order at McDonalds or Chik-fil-A. So maybe the word indicates the lack of availability for your favorite combo meal.

I think the marbles missed that connection, but I suspect your mind will secretly crave your favorite combo meal later today. That is just how the marbles roll!

And what is the significance of “ulated” in the word ending?  I have heard of “congrat-ulated” and “reg-ulated” and “stim-ulated” and “over-pop-ulated.” At this point, the two marbles stopped to rest.

I do not recall any English dictionary term for “ulated.” Late refers to slow, sluggish, or past the expected time. Maybe “ulated” is just cultural slang for “you-late-my brother” or “Bob, U-lated us.”

I determined the next time the two marbles did a fly-by that I would look up the word in the dictionary. “U-lated,” Bob and I did exactly that.

DISCOMBOBULATED—”a confused mess; a thought that something is not right; feeling upset, uncomfortable, disoriented, or out of order.”

“Eureka!” …and Niagara Falls!…and “Come here, Watson!”…and “One small step for this man, but one giant leap for all you out there feeling discombobulated!”

A confused mess. Well, I have not lost my last two marbles. They are just rolling around in some disorderly fashion which left me confused about discombobulated.

OK, bring out the card. “What were you thinking?”

I knew better than to try to explain.

Just hang the sign around my neck. “OUT OF ORDER.”

I wake up a lot of mornings feeling like that. OUT OF ORDER. Do not seek to engage me in conversation. Do not expect anything in exchange for your monetary deposit.

This mind is OUT OF ORDER. Do not shake it. Do not engage it in conversation. Do not try to pour in coffee or reasoning. It is DISCOMBOBULATED!

Have you ever felt spiritually OUT OF ORDER? Spiritually discombobulated? Just a confused spiritual mess?

Join the club. It even happens to people who still have all their marbles.

We live in a world where the cultural wars, political pundits, global impacts, and rapidly changing circumstances create a spiritual mess. Our world appears OUT OF ORDER.

Nothing works as it once did. The #1 Textbook describes this life as “bent and broken, humanly unfixable” (Ecclesiastes 1). There seem to be no norms and no certainties except death and taxes.

Social media attacks, negative thinking, fearful insecurities, and extreme chaos threaten not only our happiness, but also our survival. Cynicism, anxiety, and despair cause spiritual discombobulation.

SOMETIMES THE FEELING COMES FROM THE INNER CRITIC RUNNING RIOT IN YOUR HEAD. IT ALL LOOKS LIKE A MESS NO MATTER HOW THE MARBLES ROLL.

We desperately need an anchor for our souls. God’s Word gives trustworthy wisdom. Make sure it is your #1 Textbook.

Set your mind on the things above, not on things that are on earth (Colossians 3:2). Renew your mind (Romans 12:2). Give Jesus all your marbles.

In a changing world, the unchanging love and wisdom of God are at work in all things! Keep looking at Jesus, thinking about who He is and what He has done for you.  

God is forever faithful to give help and hope, even in the darkest moments of world and personal history. God’s abiding presence is always with you.

God’s thoughts of doing you good are as vast as the grains of sand in this beautiful world (Psalm 139:17-18). God is never discombobulated.

GOD SPECIALIZES IN TAKING YOUR MESS AND MAKING YOU INTO HIS MASTERPIECE.

Take heart. There is hope. A discombobulated mess becomes a divine masterpiece.

I made a WINSDAY WISDOM note to myself. The next time I wake up thinking about the word, DISCOMBOBULATED, I will display my OUT OF ORDER sign and go back to sleep. My last two marbles need the rest.

DISCOMBOBULATED!

There, I said it again. Please pray that I do not lose any more marbles.

I might end up confusticated or conflabberated or absquatulated.

Oh No! I see the flashing red lights. I hear the blaring horn. Evacuate all thoughts now. The marbles already rolled out of this place. My mind is blank!

Do not panic! Pause ten seconds and take a deep breath…. Nope, still blank!

OUT OF ORDER!

Did you ever lend someone a helping hand, only to discover that it ended up costing you an arm and a leg?

That was how I felt as the supervisor of a youth group float trip down the Illinois River. It also resulted in a bloodied body and bruised ego.

I am not an outdoor sports kind of guy unless you’re referencing football or baseball or sitting on a Florida beach. I occasionally play golf or tennis. I am just not good with a gun (which makes me a dangerous participant on hunting trips) and not skilled with the rod and reel (which makes me a very frustrating partner on fishing expeditions).

With the exception of floating in the lake on an air mattress, my water sports experiences were usually more of a Titanic disaster than a pleasurable adventure. I once did five cartwheels and one somersault as I skimmed across the water to highlight my water-skiing skills. The slalom board landed on my head.

I was slightly better at driving the boat. I only lost one skier, but, fortunately, he was found by the lake’s Safety Patrol Search and Rescue Operation, unharmed but unhinged.

On another memorable occasion, I flipped a small sailboat upside down in the lake, dumping the contents (lunch basket, tennis shoes, and girl) into the water. I recovered the girl. That happened twice, next time with a different girl. You would think I would learn. The girls did. Sayonara.

My floating the Illinois River in a canoe was even more treacherous. I bravely sponsored a youth group for some summertime fun. Their excitement was overflowing. The rushing river was beautiful.

Our Eagle Scout took off in the lead canoe with most of the group lunch items. He arrived quickly and safely at the intended destination nearly two hours before I showed up in the last canoe.

He was Native American. I do not mention this as a stereotype or racial slur. I am just pointing out that, unlike me, his ancestors had been navigating this river for centuries. In hindsight, it might have been better for him to escort the struggling squaws and little chieftains down the river than to be the scout in this old western movie.

I did not enjoy the trip. My goal was safety, not fun.

Most of our youth group paired up and quickly embarked on the rapid river journey.

I arranged for two of the youngest girls to paddle their canoe right before I brought up the rear with another novice. I wanted to safeguard them.

Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

Are you kidding me? This float trip was a nightmare!

The young girls in the nearby canoe quickly flipped twice. We recovered everyone and continued down the river.

As we navigated the first bend in the river, we discovered another canoe had overturned, and the youth were standing on the banks of the river. As the empty canoe continued down the rushing stream, it impaled itself on a large branch from a partially submerged tree. The branch went over the bow and then under the first seat. The wood was too big to break. The canoe was stuck.

This is the point in the movie where Superman flies to the rescue of the damsels in distress. I took a deep breath and submerged into the river. I used all my strength and breath trying to dislodge the canoe. Obviously, I lacked the superhero’s abilities.

I struggled, strained, pushed, and pulled for what felt like hours. I imagine the stopwatch time was a matter of seconds.

When I let go, the rushing river current swept me down and away. I was no Aquaman either. “Bounce” is the correct description of my body and the river rocks. I bounced along the rocky bottom until I surfaced at the next corner of the river. I emerged from the water a bruised, bloodied, and beaten young man.

My repeated attempts proved I also lacked any Solomon-like qualities. That rocky riverbed punishment happened four times.

Four attempts of holding my breath and diving under the canoe. Four struggles to dislodge the canoe from the submerged tree branch until the strong force of the raging river threw me against the rocks. Four times the rocks held firm while my lungs filled with water and my marbles rolled around in my mind as my battered body bounced along the riverbed’s firm foundation.

My wild underwater rides “quacked” up the ducks. The old wise turtles and the small naive tadpoles were rolling on the riverbank croaking with laughter.

Scrapes and scratches replaced courage and adrenaline. Exhaustion overcame determination. I would have preferred to be “up the creek without a paddle.”

This was definitely a rock and roll river.

My clothes were torn. My body bruised. My heart and mind wearied from exhaustion. My ego had been swept downstream by the strong river current.

Finally, a park ranger showed up with a chain saw. Where was his first aid kit?

The planned thanksgiving lunch with the natives never happened. While the rest of the youth group munched on sandwiches and cookies while singing Kum ba yah, I was drowning in river water, moaning Ol’ Man River.

I get weary
And sick of trying
I’m tired of living
And scared of dying
But ol’ man river
He just keeps rolling along

As the sun set on the river landscape, I was thankful I had not lost any of the tribe. The loud ride home was truly miserable.

I never scheduled another canoe trip. Somehow, the joy of the journey down the river escaped me.

I am definitely not belittling those who love these adventurous things. I bemoan that I am just not particularly good at them and, thus, lack the same enjoyment.

I do love the swishing sound of a basketball shot going through the net. It can be both enjoyable and exciting. It takes practice, but that is part of the joy of the journey.

Learning to love first and love most is also an enjoyable part of this life’s journey. It also has to be learned because it does not come naturally.

Maybe, you have tried and failed. Perhaps you think you are just not very good at it. You might have had some poor experiences trying to learn what others describe as a joy-filled endeavor. I understand the frustrations and the fears. And the failures. I’ve been there.

Loving others is not about going through the proper motions or using the right techniques. It is not about being fully equipped or sufficiently trained.

I am not an expert on this matter, but I have heard and seen the Master of Love at His best. I watched him walk through life as the friend of the down, dirty, damaged, and demoralized.

I have witnessed how He loves me. Sometimes the river of life sweeps me gently along and sometimes the rapids come unexpectedly. I have experienced His love when I am down and out amidst the darkness of despair. I felt His love when my mind was imprisoned by stress and anxiety. I remember how He loved me through disappointment and grief.

What is the point of the hard times in this life journey? It is never the condition and circumstances of your canoe. It is the people along the way.

Jesus lives in you and me to lead us to others He intends to love through us. He will love them first and love them most.

Do you see them with their boat tipped over in the river of life? Do you notice their despair when their dreams get logjammed?

Their eyes show signs of suffering, sickness, sorrow, stress. They expose confusion, concern, loneliness, and despair. They weep; they laugh; they worry. They just need someone to care enough to listen, to comfort, to help, to pray.

I hope you will slow down your float trip to whatever destination awaits around the bend in the river. Every person you see is fighting some hard, and often hidden, battle. For many, their life is stuck or upside down.

Some are up the creek without a paddle. Others have lost their canoe.

Be kind. Be caring. Love them first and love them most. Little by little, love them a lot.

Loving others will cost you more than you expected. It might even be a little painful at times. Remain calm, stay afloat, and embrace the journey. Let your love flow like a river.

Loving one person first and most reveals a thrill beyond description. The heart pounds. The clouds rumble. The skies flash. The wind roars. The trees sway. The mountains shake. The stars dance. The angels set all heaven ablaze with shouts of praise…when one damaged ship-wrecked heart has been loved first and most.

Oh, the thrill! Now, back to that air mattress flotation fun!

The first visit to Boston by this unsophisticated, small-town Midwestern high-school hick proved to be a Tale of Two Cities. I loved the home of the Celtics, Patriots, Bruins, and Red Sox. I did not like the cold, crowded city. I ended my visit early, ready to be home. My grown-up kids travel the land in their various endeavors, but they all have that same homesick DNA.

As I waited for a taxi to the airport, a Charles Dickens type bystander suggested I take the subway, which would be quicker and less expensive. He gave me instructions on where to enter this underground transportation portal and how to take the Red Line and change trains at South Station.

The only subway with which I was familiar was a sandwich, but this sounded so metropolitan. I went down the steps to purchase a subway token, through the subway turnstile, and onto the recommended train.

The subway train traveled underground at high speeds before it came to a sudden stop. The doors opened as many passengers exited, only to be replaced by hundreds of others, pushing and pressing their way into the crowded car. With the swishing sound of closing doors, the train roared back into the darkness until it approached the next flashing light.

This was all wildly unfamiliar to me. The subway sounds, crowd, and many exits created choices beyond my customary options. The town I grew up in had only one flashing light. It was not a stop light. There was an electrical short in the Dairy Bar sign. There were only two ways out of my small town. Fast or slow.

I panicked when the subway car passed the Charles Street station. My recollection of the advised directions to the airport bound Blue Line was cloudy. I exited at the next stop and boarded the nearby Green Line. Red? Blue? Green? What’s the difference?

Apparently, color recognition matters. Unbeknownst to me, the Green Line went the wrong direction. It headed away from the airport and out into the suburbs.

Eventually, my transport train appeared above ground moving through the darkness as a trolley car. My late-night mass transportation passed many exits with no airport in sight. The farther we traveled, the fewer people remained on board. Soon, we were far away from any city lights. I lost my bearings! My confusion became fright.

I did not know whether these subway trains turned around or just dumped the remaining passengers into some abyss. Perhaps I should ask another passenger, but there were only two choices.

One man appeared as if he had been on this subway car for twenty years. At least his stare and smell fit that profile. The other guy looked like the chainsaw murderer. Leatherface just stood there with a menacing scowl, muttering something. I suspected the buzzing sound was coming from under his overcoat.

If you are in a horror movie, you make bad decisions.

I made another bad decision. Too embarrassed to ask and too afraid to do nothing, I got off alone at the next exit in complete darkness. No station and no people. It looked like the middle of Nowhere. This could not be Boston or anywhere near an airport. I had definitely gone in the wrong direction.

Thankfully, I saw a taxi driver using a pay phone under a streetlight. He informed me I was headed in the wrong direction from the airport but offered to take me there. The ride cost more than if I had originally travelled by taxi rather than by the subway to the suburbs’ route.

I know that some readers are questioning the truthfulness of this story. To the surprise of many, there was a time before cell phones, Google maps, and Siri directions. You had to ask another living person or call a friend using something called a pay phone.

I once stopped to ask for directions in Hollyrood, Kansas. That’s right. Hollyrood, (with an “R”) the land of dreams. Some dreams come true; some don’t. But keep on dreamin’. That might be the sage advice in Pretty Woman’s Tinseltown, but this Holyrood intersection might be where dreams are buried because no one knows the way out.

The highway came to a three-way split where the sign to Kansas City pointed straight up. I stopped to ask a mechanic the best way to get to KC. Gomer Pyle pondered for a moment, then asked, “How are you going?”

Well, I might take a train;                                                                                          

might take a plane, but if I have to walk,                                                                              

I’m going just the same.                                                                                                        

I’m going to Kansas City. Kansas City here I come.

He cut me off before I got to the part about the crazy lil’ women there and I’m going to get me one. That was OK. I already had one in the car.

While I am referencing a world unknown to many of you, let me add this hurtful zinger. My younger son wondered if I lived when the world was still black and white. What?

“Hey, Dad. Were you born when the world was just black and white like Beaver and Opie?”

That’s what I get for letting him watch TV.

This subway fiasco was not a black and white decision. My wrong-way adventure had been full of many colors with embarrassing red and scared white still to come.

My wrong-way subway adventure eventually led me to the wrong airport in New York City. I took an air shuttle out of Boston’s Logan Airport to NYC’s LaGuardia Airport. However, I missed my connecting flight back home. Why? Apparently, there are two big New York City airports. Who knew that? My plane ticket home departed from Kennedy Airport; I spent the night on a bench in the LaGuardia terminal.

The nightmare got worse. Feeling stupid and a little fearful, I sought to make the best of it. I ordered some hot chocolate and a sandwich at the late-night coffee shop. Suddenly, three large, very tall men closed in on both sides of me. They looked like giants. My parents had warned me about pickpockets, robbers, not talking to strangers, and not taking candy from giants!

The tallest man pushed up against me as he reached for the sugar and cream, knocking me into the giant on my left side which caused him to spill his coffee. His annoyed stare down was terrifying. With my heart pounding, I hurriedly backed out of the area, leaving behind my hot chocolate and uneaten sandwich. I returned to my terminal bench struggling to breathe.

Terminal: Webster’s Dictionary describes terminal as “the end of something,” like a transportation route or a person’s life. It carries the idea that this is where you get off…permanently. I felt like I was in a double terminal. I seriously thought this airport terminal bench might be my life’s terminal. Hope had faded.

My decision making was at an all-time low.

[Note: As years have passed, my decision making has plummeted to new depths.]

As I surveyed my safety options, I recognized some familiarity to the faces of these tall men scattered around the waiting area. I was hanging out with the Boston Celtics basketball team who had just played the New York Knicks in Madison Square Garden.

This wrong way subway incident–embarrassing, frightening, even dangerous–was an allegory of my spiritual life at the time. Like many well-intentioned people, I was headed in the wrong direction spiritually. Just because the world cheers and celebrates the folly and futility of our lifestyle choices, does not mean we are headed the right way.

Most people die going the same direction they lived. There are no surprises. We end up where we are headed.

The signposts are clearly marked: Love always wins, and self-centeredness always loses. Always.

What if you deliberately choose to ride the self-centered subway train? What will you have at the end of your journey? Those questions are worthy of more than just a casual thought or mindless pursuit.

There is a ton of false information, fake news, and intentional deception in this life’s Google maps and road signs.

We continue to make bad decisions and run in the wrong direction carrying our treasure chest of toys, trinkets, and trash. It does not matter if we chase the wind on camels, wagons, subways, or spaceships. It will be travel to futility.

Politicians promise change, advertisers promote change, self-help books describe how to change. The world and its Tik Toc social influencers market the prospect of happiness in the next things it wants you to possess, whether it is a new job, new spouse, new car, new home, or new identity.

More possessions or different pleasures have never brought lasting happiness.

The perception of needing a change in personnel, location, or circumstances is a man-made illusion whose bubble will burst. Why?

There is a fatal flaw built into our life navigational system. Left to ourselves, we can never figure life out or fix it. Not with calculators and duct tape. Not with computers or gorilla glue. When people embark on a self-centered journey through life, they will always self-destruct. It is in our DNA.

In the movie Star Wars, the rebellion stole the plans for the first Death Star, which had a fatal flaw built into its core. The direct hit from Luke Skywalker’s X-Wing caused a chain reaction to set off the Death Star’s destruction from within.

Without love for God, every man and woman remains in self-destructive mode, from past to present and into the future. It is inherent in our design, a chain reaction of errors, broken and irreparable.

However, something new never fixes the fatal flaw within the self-centered human heart.

Consider the divine design for your life. The directions found in the #1 Textbook are realistic, right, and relevant.

God designed the dead-end goals of self-love to draw and drive us to Himself, so we do not self-destruct.

Our Creator designed us to enjoy life to the fullest when we love Him by loving others. Any other direction is the wrong way.

The most important directive and decision in life can be found in the #1 Textbook. “Love the Lord your God…for in His presence is fullness of joy.” Love is a decision to not live a self-centered life. That is not always easy; it is always best.

“If you have not chosen the kingdom of God first, it will in the end make no difference what you chose instead. For you have missed the purpose for which you were formed, and you have forsaken the only thing that satisfies” (William Law).

Self-centeredness and Love travel in opposite directions. One direction destroys relationships along the way to its selfish destination. The other salvages the lives of stranded people no matter what colored line they traveled.

If you are not on the Love First, Love Most train, then it will in the end make no difference what you chose to do with your life. You will have missed the purpose for which you were created.

The self-centered train will always leave you stranded on the Green Line of Envy or the Blue Line of Bitterness. There is no reason to self-destruct. Stop. Get off. Find a spiritual taxi or shuttle or even a park bench where you can think and look at your life.

There is still time to learn to Love First and Love Most. All Aboard!

People get ready; there’s a train a comin’.                                                                              You don’t need no baggage; you just get on board.                                                                  All you need is faith to hear the diesel’s hummin’;                                                              Don’t need no ticket, you just thank the Lord.                                                                    (Curtis Mayfield, covered by Aretha and Seal)

Psalm 84 Bible Study

The big question I wish to address is, “How real is God in your life?”

The main way to a greater reality of God’s presence and goodness in your life comes from the study of God’s Word. I invite you to join me in this pursuit.

I recently preached a sermon on Psalm 84. It ends with the verse, “O Lord of Hosts, how blessed is the one who trusts in You.” I have focused this Winsday Wisdom on the reference to God as the Lord of Hosts. What does that mean? Why can we trust Him? What is the blessing/benefit to us?

FOR GOD’S GLORY AND MY GOOD WILL ALWAYS BE THE THEMATIC THOUGHT APPROPRIATE FOR ANY MOMENT WE STUDY GOD’S WORD.

It is a preeminent teaching throughout the Scriptures. God’s Word is God-centered for our good from its start in Genesis to its conclusion in Revelation and the Psalms in the middle of the book.

From the first chapter in Genesis, “In the beginning God created everything and called it good.” From the Psalms, “Praise the Lord, oh my soul; everything within me, praise His holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and never forget His goodness” (Psalm 103:1-2). And in the last verse of Revelation 22:13, “Come Lord Jesus. May the Lord’s grace (God’s goodness) be with us all. Amen.”

YOU FIND GOD’S GREATNESS AND HIS GOODNESS IN HIS WORD.

When I study a passage in God’s Word, I look for repetition and purpose clauses which usually begin with prepositions such as “for” or “therefore” or “so that.”

Psalm 84 begins with, “O Lord of Hosts, my soul longs for You” and concludes with its summary thought, “O Lord of Hosts, how blessed is the one who trusts in You.”

The “Lord of Hosts” is the primary focus, used four times, one time in each section.

This psalm is an expression of God-centered…God-saturated…longing for God.

Another repetitive word is “blessed” (3x), culminating in the favor and goodness and happiness the Lord of Hosts gives to those who trust Him.

That blessing fits right into the main purpose clause in verse eleven, “for…God favors.” God does us good.

That leads us to the next part of the study. What is the significance of describing God as the Lord of Hosts?

THE LORD OF HOSTS REFERS TO ABSOLUTE AND INFINITE AUTHORITY OVER EVERYONE, EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE.

Where did I find that description? God’s Word.

There are almost three hundred references of Lord of Hosts in the Old Testament Hebrew which form the New Testament Greek equivalent—Almighty God.

The Lord of Hosts is a commonly used term to describe God’s control of everything including angels, people, the stars, and all of creation. You have probably heard God described as sovereign. That is a theological term not a Biblical Word. The sovereign Lord of Hosts is a Name for God which reminds us of God’s total control of everyone and everything…everywhere.

“Hosts” is used in English to represent a big number beyond our ability to count, such as myriads of multitudes or ten thousand of ten thousands or infinity plus one. It is all-inclusive of an infinite number.

The Hebrew word is Yahweh Sabaoth. Saba —means armies.…God is the commander of innumerable heavenly armies.

I have always loved the story in Joshua 5 where God through Moses instructed Joshua to take on the Jericho fortress. The Lord suddenly shows up with sword in hand in front of the worried and fearful Joshua. Joshua asks, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”

The response, “I am the Commander of the Lord. I govern this world. I came to take over.” No wonder Joshua would declare, “As for me and my house, we are on the Lord’s side.”

The Lord of hosts is the commander of all the uncountable heavenly armies. But there is even more to this name.

I found it interesting that the first Biblical use of the word, “hosts,” is in Genesis 2:1 which forms the summary verse for the entire first chapter of Genesis. In the beginning, “the heavens and the earth were formed and ALL the HOSTS of them,” all out of nothing. All the elements that make up creation were assembled and activated like an obedient army under the control of the Creator God. 

Everything…Everyone…Everywhere…

The Lord of Hosts is the creator, commander, and controller of countless armies of angels mighty in battle, but he is also the conductor of the beautiful orchestra of all the hosts of things which make up this world. Wow!

The Lord of Hosts sustains everything by his powerful word. Every atom, every molecule, every DNA cell moves in accordance with the purposes and command of the Lord of Hosts.

The Lord of Hosts made heaven and earth (Isaiah 37:16).

Who is the King of Glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord of Hosts (Psalm 24:8).

Psalm 103: 19-21 gives further information: “The Lord has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all. Praise the Lord, you his mighty angels, Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts..”

God knows and controls every angel and every star and calls them all by name. God knows every grain of sand, every bird, and every person. That is impressive.

I love this illustration about the magnitude of God’s knowledge and control of everything. For example, there are innumerable stars, each known and placed by God. Astronomists have expressed there are more stars than the entire number of words spoken by every individual since those first words spoken by Adam to Eve, “You complete me” and Eve’s response, “You had me at hello.”

The Lord of Hosts. Where was the first place in God’s Word where this phrase was used?

The first persons recorded in the Bible to use the phrase “Lord of Hosts” were Hannah’s husband (1 Samuel 1:3) who worshiped the Lord of Hosts and the childless Hannah who prayed to God the Lord of Hosts for a son (1 Samuel 1:11).  

Hannah cried out to the Lord of Hosts who can create something out of nothing. Hannah vowed, “LORD of hosts (almighty sovereign and good God), if you will indeed have FAVOR (grace) and give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life.” God heard her prayer and gave her a son, Samuel, who grew up in the FAVOR (goodness) of God (I Sam. 2:26).

Wait: There is more

1 Samuel 17 records the encounter of David & Goliath. David shouted to the Philistine champion of the world, “You come to me with a sword, a spear, a javelin, and a big smirk on your ugly face, but I come to you in the Name of the LORD of Hosts. The battle is the Lord’s and He will take you down.”

As the former boxing commentator, Howard Cosell, described it, “Down goes Goliath.”

Isaiah 37:16 records how King Hezekiah prayed to the LORD of Hosts when the Assyrian army unmercifully surrounded the people of God. One angel under the command of the Lord of Hosts took out 185,000 enemy soldiers in one night.

Amos 4:13 describes the Lord of Hosts as sovereign, all-knowing of even our thoughts, and all-powerful creator who governs (commands and controls) this universe.

The LORD OF HOSTS has COMPLETE COMMAND AND COMPLETE CONTROL over everyone, everything, everywhere, every time…This is a God-centered universe.

If you want to run your world, then you better get your own universe because this universe belongs to God. It is God-created, God-centered, God-commanded, God-controlled, and God-conducted for our good.

Isaiah 6:3 may be a familiar verse, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the LORD of HOSTS, the whole world is full of His glory.” Favor & Honor, Grace & Glory.

Isaiah 54:5 describes, “Your Maker is the Lord of Hosts. He is your Redeemer. He is the God of the whole earth.”

In Isaiah 47: 4, “Our Redeemer…the Lord of hosts is his name.”

Who is our Redeemer? His name is Jesus. “The name that is above every name in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2: 10-11).

The prophet Jeremiah references the Lord of Hosts seventy-one times. “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Their Redeemer is strong; the Lord of hosts is his name” (Jeremiah 50: 33-34).

Haggai was with the returning exiled Israelites who lost their enthusiasm and slowed down in the rebuilding of the Temple. The journey and recovery challenged their hearts and souls. They felt tired, defeated, weak, and very distracted by self-centered interests. Their life journey was hard. We feel the same way.

Listen and apply God’s Word from Haggai 2:4. “Be strong; be strong; be strong, for I am with you declares the Lord of Hosts.” Our study in Psalm 84 refers to the Lord of Hosts who takes us from strength to strength. We find strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. Preach to yourself to be strong.

God’s Word always connects God’s sovereign Almighty powerful control of everything to OUR GOOD.

Ephesians 1:3 states that God has blessed us with EVERY SPIRITUAL BLESSING…deciding to do that BEFORE the foundation of the world…to the PRAISE OF GOD’S GLORY AND HIS GOODNESS which God has LAVISHED on us… so much that according to Ephesians 2:7, it will take all the endless coming ages for God to show us the IMMEASURABLE RICHES of HIS Grace in kindness to us.  WOW!

GOD’S WORD TELLS US THAT JOY IS NOT FOUND IN A LOCATION, BUT IN GOD HIMSELF: “in your presence there is fullness of joy…pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11).

Consider 1 Peter 3:18. “Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, THAT HE MIGHT BRING US TO GOD”. Yes, Jesus Christ died in our place…for our sins…but primarily to allow us access into the presence of our Creator.

GOD’S GRACE IS NOT A WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO HEAVEN; IT IS A WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO GOD.”  (REPEAT)

Jesus reveals himself in Revelation 19 as the Lord of Hosts, the Commander returning with the hosts of the heavenly army and …

Look in Revelation 22 where reality meets the end of this earthly road. The dwelling place of God is with us. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. He is the Lord of Hosts.

The LORD of HOSTS. That is the NAME of the One who is coming back from the heavens to judge and rule this earth. His name is Jesus.

Jesus is the one who died for you so you can live with Him here and now and into the everlasting heavenly future. Get to know Jesus better. He introduces Himself to us as one who is humble and lowly, kind and gentle, patient and longsuffering. He claims to be the servant of all, especially to the last, the least, and the lonely.

Jesus is good…so good that He promises to never hold back anything that is good for you…so good that He promises to work out all things for your good.

Oh, by the way, if you ever wonder if He can fulfill His promises, Jesus has another name by which all of creation in heaven and earth call Him, the LORD of Hosts!

THE ABSOLUTE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE LORD OF HOSTS, OVER EVERY DETAIL OF OUR LIVES, IS THE HOPE AND FOUNDATION FOR OUR PRAYERS.

Call on the God who Commands and Controls everyone and everything at every moment in time past, present, and into your future. Know that you are praying to the One who conducts the creation orchestra to line up all things for your good even when it appears to you that the curtain of clouds has fallen for the last time.

Take heart, o my soul and all my friends.

THERE IS ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS AN ENCORE OF GOD’S GOODNESS! ALWAYS!

In your darkest hour, the almighty Lord of Hosts hears your prayers as if you were the only person on earth needing His attention. Your troubles are never too small for Him to notice nor ever too big for Him to resolve.

The Lord of Hosts is the God of Goodness. Trust His power. Hope in His goodness.

THE SOVEREIGNTY AND GOODNESS OF GOD ARE THE TWIN PILLARS OF MY LIFE. THEY ARE THE STRENGTH FOR TODAY AND THE BRIGHT HOPE OF MY FUTURE.

PREACH THIS TO YOUR SOUL: NO MATTER WHAT IT IS I AM DOING OR WHERE I AM GOING, I WILL TRUST IN GOD.

BIG Q: How do we live in this reality?

The answer, EYES UP and put your heart in God’s Word!

GOD’S GRACE IS NOT A WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO HEAVEN; IT IS A WAY TO GET PEOPLE TO GOD.

In God’s presence is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).

WHEREVER I AM and WHEREVER YOU ARE, even in hard places/circumstances and no matter how much life changes or even when we walk in the valley of the shadow of death, we can say,

                  MY CUP OVERFLOWS WITH GOD’S GOODNESS. (REPEAT)

The Lord of Hosts “pursues me with goodness and mercy all the days of this earthly life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord—forever.” (Psalm 23:6).

MAY THE LORD OF HOSTS BLESS YOU, AND KEEP YOU ON THIS LIFE’S JOURNEY, AND GIVE YOU IMMEASURABLE AND ENDLESS GOODNESS!

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

It was the worst Monday Moaning of my life (at least at that time).

I felt sorry for myself. I was so down.

Monday Moaning down in the depths of the sea down. Rock bottom down.

Down in the dumps. Down and out. Down for good. Down for the count. Down the drain. Down and done.

Talking to myself and feeling low. Sometimes I’d like to quit. Nothing ever seems to fit.

I consider myself a fairly positive person, an encourager. However, this morning felt as if everyone else was playing dodge ball, but I was their only target. Can you relate?

Down in the Dumps. (I know my sister-in-law will take this literally. No, it is not a location. I was not sitting in a pile of garbage at the city dump.)

My thoughts piled up the negatives. [My mind is good at doing that.] Surely, you have been to these emotional dumping grounds.

Disliked. Dismay. Disgust. Discouragement. Despair. Depression.

Pity Party. Blame Game. Sadness. Excuses. Conflicts. Complaints. Questions.

I sat in my office and cried. 

My only word for God was “Why?”

I desired to lead a church to express love for others in an inclusive manner regardless of racial, social, or cultural differences. I underestimated the history behind that challenge.

“All conflict is caused by unmet or unrealistic expectations” (James 4:1). *[Keep this one on file for a future Monday Moaning.]

Anonymous hate letters included various fonts and four-lettered words. The local chapter of the KKK felt the need to send their greetings. There was a handful of late-night calls with death threats to my wife and children. No kidding. No exaggeration.

Lies, accusations, and rumors swept through the membership list like wildfire.

A woman screamed at me in Walmart that I ruined her life. One man literally tried to run me over at the supermarket with a shopping cart. Another man chose the church parking lot to yell his expletive version of “I hate you!”

None of that was as frightening as the bullet that crashed through our patio glass door near where my toddler son was playing. (I think they were shooting at the dog).

One Sunday as I stood in the pulpit to teach God’s Word, more than half of the congregation rose to their feet in a mass protest exodus. The city paper even notified me of plans to publish an expose on why so many people were leaving our church.

I felt like the statue for the pigeons at the county courthouse.

There you have it in a nutshell.

I sat in my upstairs office alone and unhappy. There was a pity party going on, just no cake. I stared at the ceiling. I buried my head into my hands. My cries were muffled.

My thoughts were in a tussle for ‘king of the mountain.’ Fear and Anxiety dominated one side of the mental mountain, while Anger and Criticism were tag-team partners for the other side.

I shouted out to no one there.

“Why is this happening to me? Why? Why?”

It seems easier to shout that question to ourselves or to others as if God does not hear us.

God does not always tell us why certain bad things happen. He just promises He will turn it all out for our good.

However, in this case, God did answer my inquiry for some reason this particular Monday Moaning.

His words were audible to my heart. What did God sound like? This time His voice sounded like my lawyer friend in a closing argument to a befuddled jury.

“You told Me you wanted to be more like Jesus. Well, Jesus loved His enemies, so I gave you some real enemies. These people hate you; so, learn to love them.”

I had forgotten the most important thing in life. Love God and Love Others.

That seems to be an even bigger problem on Monday Moaning.

I was running in circles chasing the wind in the wrong direction, spiritually disoriented. I failed to pay attention to the directions in my #1 Textbook.

LOVE YOUR ENEMIES, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you (#1 Textbook).

How? Imitate God’s love.

“God showed His great love for us while we were still enemies, when Christ died on the cross to bring us side by side with God” (Romans 5:8).

To make enemies into friends requires forgiveness, which is the hardest, but greatest, demonstration of God’s love.

How do we love our enemies first and most? It starts with forgiveness. All forgiveness comes from the heart of God, which should cascade through us to others.

God lives in us to lead us to others He intends to love and forgive through us. “Forgive others in the same manner God has forgiven you” (#1 Textbook).

As I sat in my study bemoaning my misfortune inflicted by the hatred of enemies, I needed to be reminded of the most important thing in life. We love God by loving others, especially enemies.

It is an amazing thing when you pay attention to your purpose in life. It affects mood and motivation. It sharpens focus and strengthens faith.

This I call to mind (pay attention) and therefore I have hope (#1 Textbook).

From that moment on, my attitude changed; so did my actions.

I had not lost; I was about to win.

Love forgives first and forgives most. It eliminates the offense from the recycle setting in one’s mind and it releases the offender from any and all retribution. Clean record. No grudges. No bitterness.

Forgiveness treats enemies as if they never hurt you or hated you, even when they still do.

What? That’s impossible!

Why would we want to let the other person off the hook without the hate of revenge and the hurt of retribution? We don’t. God does!

At some point in life, every one of us will be given the opportunity to love those who have offended us. They might criticize, gossip, slander. Those who hurt us might even hate us. At their worst, they still need forgiveness.

Just like you and I need forgiveness, we need to forgive others.

That unforgiven person might be a spouse, parent, family member, enemy, or even yourself. Scripture told us thousands of years ago what science has recently discovered. Unforgiveness and bitterness decrease bone density and joy capacity.

Right now is a great time to turn the page and start a new chapter in your life.

Do you need to hear God’s voice? Listen. “LOVE YOUR ENEMIES, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (#1 Textbook).

LOVE FORGIVES FIRST before the enemy ever says he or she is sorry…even if they say they are NOT sorry. Love is the first to set aside every difference and all divisions.

LOVE FORGIVES MOST by being unilateral, all-inclusive, undeserved, unconditional, and unlimited in its scope. Forgiveness is Free. Full. Forever.

Forgive first. Forgive most. You will be healthier and happier.

Oh, happy day
Oh, happy day
When Jesus washed
Oh, when He washed
When Jesus washed
He washed my sins away
Oh, happy day

He taught me how
To watch and fight and pray
Watch and pray
And live rejoicing every day
Every day

Oh, happy day (Oh, happy day)
Oh, happy day (Oh, happy day)
When Jesus washed (When Jesus washed)
Oh, when He washed (When Jesus washed)
When Jesus washed (When Jesus washed)
He washed my sins away (Oh, happy day)
Oh, happy day (Oh, happy day)

Oh, Happy Day! (Edwin Hawkins)

EMOTIONALLY DROWNING IN THE STRIP PIT OF LIFE

It was a horribly hot summer day. I was eight years old when I almost drowned in the cool water of the strip pit.

My family and my uncle’s family went on a swimming adventure to a strip pit. A strip pit is a large hole in the ground eventually filled with rainwater. The scar in the earth’s surface was caused by strip mining, the removal of long surface strips of soil and rock which cover a mineral deposit, in this case coal.

Once the mining was completed, the empty hole was neglected. Over time, it would fill with rainwater, providing a site for swimming and, in some cases, good bass fishing.

My dad and his brother did not spend their childhoods floating around in some sweet swimming pool. Neither did my mom and aunt. They swam in ponds and creeks. The strip pit water was a great place to take me, my cousin, and our little siblings.

I remember the rocky hill surrounding the area and the small gravel under our feet as I waded into the cool water. Dad and Uncle Derwin would lift and throw ‘Sis’ and me back into the water. Mom and Aunt Dot played with the little kids on the shore.

It was a fun day in the summertime. I watched as Dad and Uncle D.O. carried the little tykes into the water. As I backed up, the gravel bottom gave way. I was in deep water, and I did not know how to swim.

I know. I was eight years old and did not know how to swim. I was a late learner. The lessons from the previous twenty minutes were quickly forgotten. In my defense, I do not recall that I had ever been in any water deeper than the bathtub.

Some of my preschool years were spent out on Tenkiller Lake in a boat. I remember the feeling of fresh air and waterdrops blowing into my face as the boat raced around the lake. I have many fond memories of Tenkiller Lake, but any swimming there as a young kid included a life jacket.

I was playing in neck-deep water when the strip pit’s small pebble base disintegrated. Suddenly, I was underwater. I panicked as the sight of the family and shoreline was replaced by nothing but water. I flailed around as gulps of water filled my mouth.

I popped up, struggling to catch my breath. I saw everyone, but apparently no one saw me. I fought to swim but submerged again. This time I held my breath as I plunged downward and then floated back to the top of the water.

As my head barely emerged from the surface, I saw that my uncle was looking in my direction. I could not yell for help. Surely my eyes signaled I was in distress.

I actually recall that I had some kind of flashback or memory moment. I remembered hearing the phrase “going down for the third and last time.”

The “third time” phrase refers to approaching failure. It was used to describe a boxer being knocked down three times in one round, which signaled he lost the fight. In my teenage years, Diana Ross and The Supremes sang about “going down for the third time” in a relationship which had her “drowning in tears.”

My wife, Vicki, was a teenage lifeguard. She was awarded the Presidential Honor of Merit for saving a life with CPR. If she had been my lifeguard, I would have gone for the classic fake drowning that the bespeckled, toothy Squints pulled off in The Sandlot to get the attention of the girl of his dreams.

Squint’s brave venture resulted in a mouth-to-mouth kiss from the pretty lifeguard, Wendy Peffercorn. As his pal, Smalls, narrated, “He had kissed a woman…and he had kissed her long and good.” Squints ended up marrying Wendy.

If I could duplicate that feat, I could run away from the scene with the smile of victory dancing to the sound of the Drifters singing This Magic Moment.

This magic moment
So different and so new
Was like any other
Until I kiss you

Wake up! Wake up! I am drowning! At this point in my strip pit dilemma, I had no hope of reaching those teenage years. I was going down for the third time. My frightened mind believed it was the last time and the last glance of my dad and uncle.

As I continued to sink into the strip pit abyss, two big hands reached under my arms and raised me high into the sky. My Uncle Derwin saved me. I want to cry as I tell this. He saved me.

Later that year, I realized I was drowning in my sins. I remember the moment God’s love lifted me into a new life. I learned firsthand that God loves first and most. He is always there…at all times…in all things.

Some cloudy days and dark nights, you might feel as if you are drowning. You might be feeling burdened with more of something than you need, want, or can handle. Maybe, you are drowning in debt or drowning in sorrow. You might be drowning in your troubles, or depression, or self-pity.

Maybe you just need to drown out these WIsdom messages.

To be consumed by negative emotions can become a horrible feeling. It creates a sense of desperation and hopelessness. I have been there as well. Sometimes it felt as if I were going down for the third and last time. If only there were someone to save me.

Emotionally drowning is not just the feeling of losers. The Psalmist David, a man God commended for having a good heart, often felt the same way.

David compared his negative circumstances to drowning in a dreadful pit filled with mud and mire: “The Lord brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock” (Psalm 40:1-2). His only hope was for the Lord to save him.

Again, in Psalm 62:9, “Deeper and deeper I sink into the mire; I can’t find a foothold. I am in deep water and drowning in the flood.” David felt helplessly and hopelessly trapped. His only hope was for the Lord to save him.

David’s poetic and metaphoric expressions are connected to experiences we can relate to.

The cards were stacked against him. The stars were not aligned in his favor. The breaks did not go his way. He was going down for the count.

Do you ever feel that way? Certainly, there are a lot of mornings where I feel that way.

Our only hope is for the Lord to save us.

David encourages us to learn from his experiences. “Trust in the Lord at all times. Pour out your heart before him. God is a refuge for us” (Psalm 62:8).

When you are going under, you need someone to save you.

The hardest times in my life became my best learning times. I do not wish them on you and do not wish to trade with those in worst experiences. I do hope you learn from my experiences.

The greatest security and greatest joy come with the reassurance you can trust God…at all times…in all things.

I am thankful my uncle saw me. I am eternally grateful the Lord saw me and saved me.

Show love to someone today. They might be drowning.

Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else would do
Love lifted me!

Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else could help
Love lifted me! (Love Lifted Me, James Rowe)