Shadow: The Golden Almost Retriever

I've recently managed to travel back home to PA again. My dad had another birthday on March 9th, so I went home to take him to a hockey game as a reminder of how much those games he took me to as a kid meant to me and how I love spending time with him. That, however, is something for a different post. The subject of this rant is a little more hairy.

While I was home, I made an observation that I am more like my sister's Golden Retriever, Shadow, than I ever thought I would be. First, and not quite so related to the following story, is how annoying he can be... but I still love that dog. I've had friends, two in particular that I can remember, saying to me, "I want to be irritated with you sometimes, but I just can't." There's a lovable obnoxiousness about him. On many evenings in the living room, by the TV, you will find my parents watching their favorite shows. By their side will be the gigantic beast waiting for someone to pet him. When this doesn't happen after, say, five minutes, he begins his hunt for a resting hand. He will nudge his cold, wet nose underneath just hoping to get a few scratches on his back. I always love finding the spot on his side that makes his leg twitch uncontrollably. Or, he will grab his ball and keep dropping it on you until you throw it for him. He lives for it. He is, of course, a Golden Retriever... almost.

The next thing builds on his last characteristic of being annoying. While I was home, I went out back to throw his ball with him. Though, it's not much of a ball anymore. It used to be a black, miniature basketball. Now, it's a flattened, concave piece of rubber. None of his toys ever seem to last very long. He also lives to destroy his toys. I think he considers their structural integrity a challenge that cannot go uncontested. At any rate, in the arena of the back yard, there are two sure things with Shadow. He wants you to throw his ball for him. He is, as I stated earlier, a Golden Retriever... almost. See, when you throw the ball for him, he will run with all the energy his furry, little legs can muster. He'll scoop up the ball with his slobber-filled mouth and he will run straight back for you with the utmost tenacity. Then, the second sure thing, for whatever reason he will stop about ten feet short and will not go a step further. Like I said, he's a Golden Almost Retriever.

I don't know about anyone else, but I find myself living life that way. I start something and don't always quite finish it. While I did finish college, only by the grace of God, I found myself starting every semester with a goal of working really hard and getting amazing grades in all of my classes. I would call my mom every day that I could say truthfully, "Mom, I just wanted to let you know that I still have a 100% in all of my classes.” That usually lasted from the first day to somewhere between my first quiz and the two week mark of the semester. Then I would go to my default goal of passing.

I find this too often in my spiritual life as well. I find myself staring sin down like a matador stares down a bull. I'm determined to grab sin by it's horns and bring it down like the wild beast that it is. I start with the best of intentions and intensity. Then somewhere along the line, I find myself winded and giving up, allowing the very sin I fought to pin me down.

But, by the grace of God I haven't given up. I continue to fight the sin. As rough as the road has been at times, I continue to run the race. By the power of the Spirit, I am ferociously determined not to be a Born Almost Again Christian. I don't want to be a casualty of sin.

While there have been a number of occasions that I have wanted to throw in the towel and give up on what, at the time, seems like a futile fight, there is Something inside of me that won't let me. On just as many occasions, I have been tempted to question my salvation, and according to many of Paul's epistles, rightly so. But one thing that has given me the most assurance during those toughest times, I just can't come to actually giving up. There's something inside me that won't allow me to play dead and give up. And, there's only one answer I have for that, the Holy Spirit.

So, no matter how many times I fall and skin my knees, and I know I will, I know that I will always get back up and will continue to push forward. Not because I'm a super-sweet guy who does awesome at everything, but because I have the power and drive of the Living God dwelling inside of me and He will not let me quit. I believe the Lord has saved me so, just like Paul said in 1 Timothy 1, Jesus Christ could demonstrate His patience and grace to others He will save.
So believers, run with vigor and strength. But, when you fall, be encouraged when you get back up. It wasn't you, but the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling within you. For those who have given up and have left Christ, or those who have never even started the race at all, put your trust in Christ and enter into that everlasting relationship with Him. Receive the power to run the race, finish the course and receive the prize of eternal fellowship with God.

Hebrew 12:1-2
Therefore since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of God's throne.

In Memory of Donald Hardy: My Grandfather and My Hero

There are many things that stand out about my grandfather as I think about the section of life that I have had the opportunity to spend with him. Then there are a couple memories that stand out above the rest. One of those are when I was younger and Grandpa sat with me at the dinner table and he told me stories about his time in Iwo Jima. Another was less than two weeks before he passed away, when I had the privilege of taking communion with him for his last time on this side of heaven.

There are several more memories I could share about my grandpa that I will treasure for the rest of my days on earth. Those who knew him all could. There are countless ways that he has touched each one of us. I believe that I can say, without hesitation, that each one of those memories had one underlying theme: Love God with all your heart, soul and mind; and love others as you love yourself.

Grandpa has always been one of my spiritual heroes. As I’ve grown in knowing my grandfather better and as I’ve grown to know my Heavenly Father better, I’ve begun to understand why. Christ, to him, was not a person in a picture in a church or a character in a storybook that sat on his shelf. Grandpa wasn’t a theologian. He would have been the first to admit that. But, he loved God with all of his heart. He sought to know God as best as he possibly could.

In college, I had a talk with him about his spiritual journey. I wanted to know why and how he was such a godly man. I was perplexed because I was hard pressed to find a man, even among a school of theologians, who had such an unadulterated love for God. During our discussion, I had come to find that it was because he a relationship with Christ. When he was a young man, he had accepted Jesus Christ as his Savior. Even my grandpa, as good as a man as he was, knew he needed Christ to be free from the bondage of sin.

Because of this relationship with Christ and love for God, it overflowed into his relationship with all those who surrounded him. I don’t know that there is anyone who has met my grandpa that hasn’t been deeply touched by his love and commitment to God and to his family. These were not obligations to him, but were the things he found the most pleasure in. Ultimately, it was the Fruit of the Spirit being manifested in him.

I have no doubt in my mind that we whose lives have crossed paths with his could go on for days sharing our fondest memories with him, whether it be hearing stories of his time in the war, sitting with him around the camp fire out at the camp grounds, spending time with him on Christmas nights, playing games around the dinner table in the evenings and the list could go on. But, I could think of no greater testament of my grandfather’s life than to see everyone who knew him grow closer to God because of the life that he lived.

Death is but a veil.
Hiding that which is to come;
Presence with Yahweh.

The End of Sin and Death

In my new found love for poetry, I have recently started exploring the world of free verse poetry. For all you poetry buffs out there, please correct me if I am wrong with my understanding of how free verse works. In this style of poetry, there is no meter, rhyme, breaks or length.

This is the first I am willing to share:

The End of Sin and Death

Oh, what foul deeds are planned,
From the depth of Hell’s dark bowels?
To seek and to kill man’s soul.
To sink deep its wretched teeth,
And feed off man’s depraved mind.
Dark was the day it was loosed.
Glorious the day it was bound.
Yay, even more beautiful the day of its destruction!

Poetry and such

I have found myself wanting to delve into the world of poetry. I find thoughts of truth and beauty entering and gripping my mind in such a way I feel like I would burst if I couldn't let it out. But at times, I find the words aren't there. At least, not the words to adequately describe what I've felt.

A friend recently introduced me to Haiku. I've only done a few, but I've found this has opened my eyes to a whole new world of writing and I love it. Here are a few I have written:

To the world we go,
Bright and filled with ambition.
Fare thee well, my friend.

Hell finds much delight
In the destruction of a soul
Ruined by sins path.

Death is but a veil.
Hiding that which is to come;
Presence with Yahweh.

Talk about Humbling... 2.0

To further illustrate the distance of these two galaxies and magnify the wonder and majesty of the power of God, I have put together a few scenarios for you to concider:

If you drove 60mph from here to those galaxies, it would take you 42,533,333,333,333,300 hours. That’s equal to 1,772,222,222,222,220 days of straight driving. That’s equal to 4,855,403,348,554 years of driving without taking any bathroom, rest or eating breaks.

Every mile per hour counts.

If you went just 1 mile an hour slower, it would take you an additional 720,903,954,802,256 hours or 30,037,664,783,428 days or 82,294,972,009 years. That means it’s an extra 1,003,597,220 lifetimes.

It’s also expensive!

If we took my very fuel efficient Honda Civic, it would use up 75,058,823,529,411,800 gallons of gas. Even at today’s rock bottom gas prices of $2.09, that would cost you $156,872,941,176,471,000.00! Good luck Bill Gates.

That’s a long hike!

If you walked, to save the gas money of course, at a casual 5 mph, it would take you 30,624,000,000,000,000,000 seconds or 1,837,440,000,000,000,000,000 minutes or 510,400,000,000,000,000 hours or 21,266,666,666,666,700 days which equals to 58,264,840,182,648 years of nonstop walking. A cat has nine lives. It would take you 710,546,831,496 lives. That is, if you didn’t die early of exhaustion during on of those lives.

Walking is healthy, but that’s rediculous!

If you’re heart beat an average of 85bpm (since it is a leisurely walk and all), your little ticker would have to beat 2,603,040,000,000,000,000,000 times.

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand or marked off the heavens with the span of his hand?” (Isaiah 40:12) Surely it is only the Lord of Hosts, Creator of Heaven and Earth, to Whom be all the glory and honor for ever and ever. Amen.