MuddyPuddles

Last week my 4 year old grandson, Trapper, came to see me for a few days.  We stomped around in the creek and caught frogs and fish and “memos” (minnows) and tadpoles.  We built towers out of firewood logs and poured imaginary cement (sand).  We played games and did computer things and read books.  We watched “Shark Tales” about 50,000 times.  We hid and wrestled and hiked and made messes in just about every room in the house (multiple times) and the yard.  What an awesome time we had.  I cannot describe to you how much I love that kid.  He is the sparkle in my eye. 

Even if he destroys my most prized possessions I will not stop loving him immensely.  He can’t mess up bad enough for me to stop loving him.  I know he loves me too, but he will never love me as much as I love him.  That’s just the way things are.  And as much as I love him I know God loves me more than that.  And when I mess up bad, I know that God still loves me just the same.  And I know that God is not looking for a way to send me to hell.  You wouldn’t always be able to know that if you listen to or watch some of the things that some of my Christian brothers are saying or doing, but it’s true.

I’m pulling for my sweet Trapper in ways that I can’t even describe.  God is pulling for me in ways that I can’t even understand.  He is my “abba Father.”  He’s your’s too, by the way.  Aren’t you glad?  Doesn’t that bring you indescribable joy?  It does me too!  God Bless.  Dennis      

When I was in the first grade my family moved into a house that basically had 3 rooms.  It had a rectangular room that housed the living room and the kitchen/dining room.  The bedroom was attached to the side of the living room part and the small bathroom was attached to the end of the bedroom next to the kitchen.  It consisted of a wall mounted sink, a toilet and a corner shower.

My family at the time consisted of my dad, mom, two sisters and myself.  When my first brother came along my dad added a large bedroom on the end of the house.  When my other brother came along my dad built a new house.

When I think back at that little house I think about how adequate it was in spite of being so basic.  It gave us a roof over our heads, indoor toilet facilities, a shower, a place to store and prepare food, a place to sit down and relax and even a place to lay our heads at night.  Good tasting water came through those pipes.  It was a nice little basic house that was very common for that time.  Like most of my friends, we did not have a TV.

In today’s basic homes one is likely to find all the conveniences of that original house plus a  microwave, computer, built in dishwasher, multiple bathrooms, cell phones, high speed (or slow speed) internet, a garage or many of the other conveniences that we didn’t have back then.

And yet, it still does the same basic things as the original house did.  It meets the same needs.  And the same good tasting water comes through those pipes. 

If we never knew about the new and improved version of the basic house we would probably be satisfied with the original version.  Since we know about the new and improved version, it is difficult to be satisfied with the old one.  This is easy for us to understand when we are talking about houses.

When we are talking about religion, however, it seems like there are quite a few among us that think that the 1950’s version is adequate and that these young people of today should be just as satisfied with it as we were at that time of our lives. 

It is as if we had a street full of rent houses.  On one side, builder Bob made all of the houses just like the old style that I described originally.  On the other side, builder Bill made all of the houses like the second house I described---the new style.   They are charging the exact same amount of rent for each of the houses.  The new style is filling up very fast while the original style has very few takers unless there isn’t a new style house available.

Some among us want to keep building the old style and can’t seem to understand why nearly everyone wants the new style.   After all, if the old style was good enough for us it should be good enough for them.  They say that these kids of today are just selfish.  “It shouldn’t be about having that extra bathroom or that high speed internet or computerized thermostats.  It should be about shelter, bathroom facilities, and places to eat and sleep.”

These naysayers may be right in one sense.  Maybe it shouldn’t be about these extras, but the reality is that if we keep offering the old style we are going BROKE because someone else will be offering the new style.  Like it or not, our young people are going to select the new version.  THAT IS A FACT!!!!!!.  Believe it. Own it.

We do have a choice.  We have the ability and the means to build the new style.  We don’t have to build the old style.  We are capable people.  It’s okay to build the new style.  It is the same water coming through the pipes---and that is what’s important.  The choice is yours.  Choose wisely.

Sincerely yours.   Dennis

Twenty-five years ago today when I got in from work I had a message on my answering machine that would impact my life forever.  I wrote about that message and its effects in 1994.  The following, with a few minor modifications, is that writing.  I wanted to share it with you today in honor of my dad.  It follows: 

I heard a tape today that talked about how important it is for a father to spend a lot of time with his kids.  Quantity of time is as much if not more important than the quality time.  This is partly true because you cannot always plan the quality time.  It just arrives unexpectedly and if you don’t spend quantity of time, you just miss out on the quality times that could have been.

The tape also talked about how important it is to touch your children and to make physical contact with them.  The man speaking related how his 12-year-old son still liked to sit in his lap and to be near him and to even kiss him.  That brought back memories of one of the last times I saw my dad.

One Tuesday afternoon in 1982 he had a heart attack.  When I got in from work, I heard a message on my answering machine from Mom saying Dad had a bad heart attack.  We packed up and went down to Llano that night.  When I came into that room I could see that he was in a lot of pain.  I came over and hugged him and cried.  We had such a good visit - it was all deep - no shallowness there - no small talk - no chit chat.  With life hanging in the balance, the walls and shells around us were stripped away.  He said he was ready to go if it was his time.  (I think he even preferred it). But he said he was going to try to make it for Mom and my brother still at home.  He said he didn’t know a body could hurt so much - so much pain.  Near the end of our conversation he asked me to kiss him.  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  He said “on the lips.”  I leaned over and kissed him again - on the lips.  I think he knew he was going to die.  And I think he wanted to show me and tell me in no uncertain terms about how much he loved me.  This kiss was heart to heart with no paraphernalia - just pure love - no facades, no inhibiting pride or pretense – just a deep and abiding expression of love. 

I think that is the only time in my life that I kissed my dad on the lips.  I shall never forget it. 

My dad knows he did a good job raising me.  He knows that although I sometimes drove the whole family crazy, that he did instill in me a sincere and honest heart.  I am a weak person, no doubt, but my sincere desire is to be a man after God’s own heart, full of integrity and sincerity and patience and love.  I thank God for my dad.  Of all the fathers in the world I was so blessed that mine was that man.  I hope I can instill some of those same qualities that my dad instilled in me, into my two precious boys.  If I can do no more than that, my life would be a success. 

My dad made it through that night and felt a little better the next day.  We decided to move him to Austin where the medical facilities were better.  He would be more vulnerable during the trip, but would have a better chance of surviving once we got there.  Dad made the trip just fine and slept well that night.  The next morning, Dad felt wonderful.  It was so good to see him feeling good.  We saw him quite a bit that day but had to be careful not to get emotional because the heart monitor would go crazy.

Mom’s brother, N.D., came up from Hereford to see Dad.  In many ways, Dad had been like an older brother or a father figure to him.  The heart monitor really went crazy when he came in.  I never really appreciated how deep their relationship was until that moment.  They were both speechless because of their inability to keep from breaking down and crying.  That made me love and respect N.D. more than I ever had before.  That also, as well as many things N.D. told me about later, made my love and respect for my dad grow deeper. 

I cried a lot that night.  Everyone else seemed very happy.  Although Dad had been through a good day, the doctor never would show a lot (or even a little) optimism.  We wanted him to so badly and we tried to convince ourselves that things were better, but he just never would paint any bright pictures for us.  I think I knew – way down inside - that he was not going to make it.  The uncertainty is so draining.

The next morning, while waiting for the visiting hours (15 minutes) to come, a nurse came out to tell us that “he’s not quite ready yet” and to “wait a few minutes”.  Near the end of the visiting time, I asked the nurse if we would get to extend our visiting time since we had missed out on the regular time.  She said “yes”.  When the regular visiting time was over the nurse came out and said, “Y’all can come in now.”  Instead of leading us to his room, she asked us to wait in a vacant room because the doctor wanted to talk to us.  Shortly, the doctor came in and told us that early that morning my dad had either extended the existing heart attack or had a second heart attack and they had been working on him all morning trying to revive him and that there was nothing more they could do.  Those words were so hard to believe.  My dad had always been there - my whole life - he can’t be gone.  We all cried and held each other in disbelief.  I asked if we could see him and the doctor said yes.

We walked into his room.  It was so obvious that his spirit was gone.  His body was there but he was not.  We cried some more.  We held each other some more.  We talked about this wonderful man that lay before us, some of the crazy things he did, the quality of his life.  Laughing and crying, rejoicing and weeping.  The mystery of the heavens and earth had taken place in this room.

When we got back to Mom’s house, I went out into the shop where Dad’s tools were.  I put my hands on the handles of all the tools I could find.  My dad held these tools last.  I wanted my hands to be where his had been. 

The funeral was special.  Since it was delayed a couple of days while we were waiting for my sister and brother-in-law to get in from South Africa , we had time to come to grips with what was happening.  My brother-in-law preached the sermon.  “Can you imagine James growing old?” he asked.  And we couldn’t.  He also talked about the many wonderful memories that we could cherish because of this man – the nostalgic memories, the crazy things he did (sometimes on purpose and sometimes not).  But most of all he reminded us of the Christian heritage this man had left us.  His goal in life was to see his family grow up to be Christians and to lead Godly lives. 

That was more important to him than making a lot of money or having a lot of power or impressing his friends.  In that, he succeeded.  He had five kids who are all faithful Christians to this day (even in 2007).  They all have strong Christian families and are passing the legacy on down to their children and grandchildren. 

I thank God for blessing me with this awesome man as my father.  I feel compelled to make a difference in other people’s lives because of that blessing.  My father died 25 years ago on April 30, 1982 at the age of 56.  In 10 days he would have been 57.

---I will always love you Dad!!! ---

God Bless!

Dennis

“It’s hard to find people who write about God from a position of commitment but still sound as if they’re being human and honest, not running every word through the filter of religious subculture.”  This is a quote from John Ortberg in his endorsement of the book “Blue Like Jazz” (by Donald Miller).  If he means what I think he means, he’s right on. 

There is this tendency in us to hesitate to sound “religious” without having had some event to push us over the barrier.  It might be some awesome camp experience.  It might be some crisis we’ve come through.  It might be that we have somehow gotten into some “Spiritual leadership” role like a group leader or preacher or some other ministerial position.

For a little while, back at Oklahoma Christian, I was a Bible major with the intention of becoming a preacher.  After awhile, however, I realized that I was going to be so frustrated because of the lack of movement on most people’s part, that I might not even be a Christian five years later if I chose to preach.  Therefore, I changed my major (to undecided).  But when I was considering that preacher “role” I noticed a tendency for it to be just that---a role.  This meant that I had to use different words and motions and gestures.  I had to take on the aura of a Bible major and a preacher (all wise and knowing).

I’ve noticed in the years since that oftentimes, “ordinary” Christians hesitate to be too obviously religious in public.  They are a little embarrassed to appear Religious because of the side effects that brings.  There seems to be this fear that someone will think that they believe they are so “perfect” or so “righteous” and that they are too good to associate with us lowly heathens.  So, to avoid that mistaken perception, they don’t jump in to get something started that would truly be beneficial. 

On the other hand, I see others who decide to take that lead position, but then seem to feel the need to take on that very “Holy” disposition.  They can’t just say an ordinary prayer, but they seem to feel the need to only pray those amazingly thoughtful and intense prayers (sometimes using the word “just” over and over).  I’m not being critical of these people.  I believe they are very sincere and truly desire to please God.

There is another option, however, that I prefer the most.  I like it when I see it in other people and it's the way I want to be myself.  This option is made up of people that I believe have the greatest impact on me and on the non-church-goers. These are people who definitely commit to living openly Spiritual lives (never forgetting that all the glory goes to God) without feeling the need to play a role. They don’t hesitate saying that God has blessed them and “God bless you” and “I’ll pray about that for you”.  They somehow can do it without appearing “superior”.  There is this humility about them.  They are centered.  They are confident in their own inadequacy and in God’s power to complete them and make them all they need to be.  They are their true selves and are willing to take risks for God.  They are not too worried about what people will think about them. To them, it’s not so much about who they are.  It’s about whose they are. 

God Bless you as you let your light shine for him today.  

Dennis

Since blogging is a relatively new concept for most of us I think that some people miss out on the awesome power of the comments that are made about various postings.  (to read the comments, click on “comments” below each posting.) 

In response to my April 3rd post, “Religiosity”, a person called “windswept” (who really inspires me even though I don’t know who they are) commented with the following statement.

“ Dennis, let's move forward. Where do we begin?   A discussion in a recent Bible study where I live, concluded that we may never really have been taught to do the kind of service we long to be involved in. Or is it our modern lifestyles that hold us back; lots of interaction online, but little physical fellowship in which to practice what we desire to become? Are the small things we do in our daily contact with others enough, or can we be bold enough to affect sweeping changes in our service to Him? Spur us on!”

Shortly thereafter, I responded to him/her with some questions about his/her statement.  “windswept, what kind of service do you long to be involved in? What do you desire to become? What would you consider a (or some) sweeping change(s)?”

Windswept’s response was so powerful that I wanted to post it “mainline” for your inspiration.  I’ve read it and re-read it many times as I’ve tried to visualize it and to absorb it and to make plans to implement it.  So, I post it for your benefit.  I also encourage you to view other comments as well.  “Anonymous” and Jerry and Drew and Lauryn and Don and others have posted some empowering comments as well.  I hope that each of you is inspired to be more and to do more to God’s glory where ever you may be.   I’ve copied windswept’s comment below:

A few years ago our “Lady Bulldogs” basketball team made it all the way to the Texas State Finals in Austin .  In the semi-final game the night before, the “Lady Bulldogs” and their opponent struggled throughout the whole game.  Neither team looked all that sharp.  In the other semi-final game that followed, both of the teams looked awesome.  It looked like that could have been the real championship game, even though there would be one more game after that. 

On the night of the championship game, Mica, one of our Lady Bulldog players was asked to sing the National Anthem before the game.  Everyone got quiet as she began to sing unaccompanied.  Her solo voice was crystal clear.  She hit every note dead center.  It was a powerful and moving experience.  It sent chills up and down my spine. 

When she finished the song and handed the mike back to the desk assistant, the coaches, who were standing in front of the players, turned around to see the remaining “Lady Bulldogs” bawling their eyes out from the emotion of the moment.  Surprised and concerned, the assistant coach barked at them to “get those tears out of your eyes!  We’ve got a game to play!”  So they all wiped their eyes to get ready to come out for the first quarter. 

What that coach didn’t realize was how much this powerful moment was impacting these girls.  One of their own was powerfully and movingly belting out the National Anthem in advance of the one game they had been working toward for most of a decade.  It was for the State Championship and was being played in this huge coliseum with thousands of people watching and cheering.  This incredible moment had galvanized them in a way that coaches can only dream of.

As the game began it occurred to me that I had never seen such a perfect quarter of basketball in all my life---at any level---boys or girls.  The other team was totally dominated.  After a two or three minutes of abuse the opposing coach called a time out, but there was nothing he could say or do.  No play would work or even come close.  There was nothing they could do.  Their star player was so dominated that she couldn’t even muster a faded twinkle.

The further the game got away from the impactful moment, the more the quality of the Bulldog play drifted back to its normal high level.  They no longer dominated, but it had been enough.  They went on to win state.  They were the class 2A State Champions.  What a dream come true.  But what impacted me just as much as that championship trophy, and all it stood for, was the power that I witnessed because of the unity they felt and the effect that this unity had on them as a team.

I’ve only witnessed a handful of those types of moments in my life---the 1980 US gold medal hockey team when they beat the Russians in the semi-finals---watching Mohammed Ali "float like a butterfly" and "sting like a bee"--- watching an "olympic swimmer" from some third world country almost drown as he struggled mightily as he persevered and finally completed the 200 meter swim (minutes after the other competitors) as the crowd changed from laughing at him to cheering him on to completion with a standing ovation.  You can’t really know for sure when those special moments are about to show up.  They are few and far between.  But when they do show up, they kindle something inside of you that sparks a change in you forever.  You are never quite the same.

I’m hoping and praying that I get to experience a moment of time like that in this little church where I attend most of the time.  We are nearing what I believe is a critical fork in the road.  One side leads to the River Jordan and the promised land.  The other leads to the wilderness and 40 more years of wandering aimlessly.  

There has been some consternation to lead us up to this point.  And, I can’t predict which way we will go.  I can't even sense that we will actually cross that river if we get to it's banks.  But I can sense that this is one of those special opportunities that won’t come back for a long time.  We need to get there and we need to cross that river and we need to take the land for the Lord.  

I don't think most people realize how close it is or that it's even there.  But it's there.  It's right there.    My hope is that we will choose wisely.  I ask that you pray for us for the next few days ahead.  It’s critical.  God Bless you and  God Bless this Church!      Sincerely.      Dennis

Sorry for the blog gap.  My 4 year old grandson has been visiting and not much productive (in one sense) gets done when that happens.  But awesome memories are made as I watch this little man grow. 

Several of the comments following my “No Joy” post have been about unity.  I want to give unity a post of its own.  Can’t we all just get along about that???? 

Obviously, we haven’t been unified for the past 200 years.  Everyone talks about wanting it.  But oftentimes it is based upon the thought that “we will be unified if you will just come to the truth.”  Implied in that statement is “Roses are red, violets are blue, I have the truth and you should too” (but you don’t).  (It's not as good as "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm a schitzophrenic and so am I", but it will have to do.)

I was asking a brother, one time, about what if we study the same scriptures and we come to different conclusions.  He said, “then you will just need to study some more” (and he was serious).  This same brother was condemning of the statement made by someone when studying the Bible, “I think this means.”  He said, “It is not about what you think.  It’s about what the Bible says.”  He had nothing to say when I asked him about greeting one another with a holy kiss or women should pray or prophesy with their heads covered. 

I’ve pointed out to several of my conservative brethren that even they don’t agree on everything.  One refuses to let his wife speak a prayer with him present.  Others allow it.  Another says instrumental music is okay outside of the “worship service.”   Others say it’s wrong with any church music. 

The point is that if we base our unity on agreeing with each other on every one of the things that have previously split churches we will never get there.  It is humanly impossible. (I know, ‘with God, all things are possible”, but he has shown no inclination to make robots out of us.) 

Instead, our unity must be based upon what is the center point of the Gospel.

This is stated in 1 Cor. 15:1-5 (NIV)  “Now, brothers, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand. [2] By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain.

    [3] For what I received I passed on to you as of FIRST IMPORTANCE: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, [4] that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, [5] and that he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. . . .

Upon that principal we can all be united in him---even if we disagree on many issues.  We should give great latitude to others on those issues---not condemn them. 

Christ came to set us free from laws and regulations.  We can’t be unified if we refuse to let them go.  May God Bless us and open our eyes as we strive to move toward unity.

(If you haven’t read the comments on unity following the “No Joy” post, I encourage you to do so.  They are very inspiring.)  Dennis

I do not see joy in the “naysayers.”  I do not see peace.  I see worry and fear and consternation.  It seems they are worried, fearful and fretful primarily about losing control---especially of losing control of what takes place in the assembly.  Though they won’t admit it, they kind of wish the second half of Galatians 5:6 was not in the Bible (“the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love” (NIV)), because, to them, other things count as well.  It just doesn’t seem right that faith, expressing itself through love, could be the only thing that counts, but there it is in black and white.  It’s pretty clear.

It is very difficult for this group to accept the grace of God.  For one thing, it just doesn’t seem right that it should be a free gift (as in “free”, as in “unearned”).  It just doesn’t seem fair that they have worked so hard for so long and then here comes this young whippersnapper that hasn’t worked all that hard and he’s going to get just as much of this free grace from God as they are and he hasn’t even done anything to earn it?  It just doesn’t add up in their eyes.

In order to accept this grace as a free gift they would have to internally and whole heartedly acknowledge that all this effort they have put into their religion for all these years (or decades) has not earned them even one tiny miniscule jot or tittle (Matt 5:18)of a smidgeon of worthiness to be saved.  It has not earned them one bit of righteousness (“There is none righteous, no, not one.” Romans 3:10 (KJV)).  No.  Not one.  God did it all.  Only He Is Righteous!

One would have to swallow his pride to get to that place.  It’s not all that easy to do, because it's been there for a long time.  It feels like a part of their nature.  It feels like it has been earned---this pride about who they are and what they've done.    But getting rid of it would make room for peace and joy and hope and love. 

I hope they get there.  I’m praying that they will. 

Dennis

A few years ago we were between preachers in our church.  When that happens, various men of our congregation take turns preaching (unless someone is “trying out” to be our new preacher.) Sometimes we invite a guest preacher (perhaps retired) who is not trying out, but just filling in for us.  At the time of this vacancy, one of our most conservative members knew of a preacher that had recently retired and lived fairly close and he thought it would be good to invite this fellow in to preach for us one Sunday.  So, the Elders invited him to come and he accepted.

Now this conservative brother would have not suggested inviting this man unless he knew that he had a conservative message and mindset (you know---a “defender of the truth”).  But sometimes when one retires he is free to speak more freely than he might be willing too when his paycheck depends on it.  I don’t know if that was the case here but the preacher was definitely “feeling his oats”.  And it showed up immediately as he began teaching the Bible Class before the worship service. 
Instead of teaching in normal speaking sentences, this brother, for some reason, felt the need to interject “Amen?” or “Hello?” or “Hellooo!” after about every third sentence.  It was annoying even to us heathen liberals. 

I imagine that my conservative brother was feeling that ‘Southwest Airlines’ commercial moment that says “Wanna get away?” because this was not the tried and true preaching he was expecting.  I’m sure that he was wishing he had never suggested this brother.

The Sunday morning Bible class took place in the back of the auditorium with a speakers stand brought down the aisle so that all the class members would be bunched up in the back six or eight rows.  I was sitting near the front row on the right side which meant that my head had to be turned about 80 degrees to the left to look at the speaker.  This allowed me to see the most conservative couple in our congregation with my peripheral vision because they were in the row behind me next to the center aisle.  They didn’t know I could see them, but I could. 

They, too, were feeling a little stressed out about all of the “Amen?” and “Hello?” goings on and it was interesting to watch their shell shocked demeaner.  After all, this man had been suggested by their conservative cohort.  Who could they blame it on?

After awhile, since no one in the class was responding to the “Amen?” request, I decided that after the next “Amen?” that I was going to firmly reply “Amen!” no matter what it was about.  So, the preacher began making a point that what ever he was talking about was of God and not of him.  He said, “I’m not smart, Amen?” to which I immediately responded (before my mind had processed the meaning of his words,) “Amen!”.  There was a pregnant pause on his part and a stunned aura that settled over the whole area.  You could have heard a pin drop.  

And then, as if nothing untoward had happened, he carried on.  My conservative couple in the row behind me looked at me and then looked at each other (with crinkled faces) and then looked down and shook their heads in negative bewilderment.  They didn’t know what to think.  Here was this man , invited by their conservative brother, asking for a response and I gave it to him and yet it was an insult (albeit unintended) but it was this supposedly conservative preacher who was being unorthodox, so they didn’t know whether to be disappointed in me or in him or what. 

So, we did what we usually do in those types of situations.  We pretended that it never happened and it just went away.  But in my mind (my mind alone, probably) it still lives on.  Now, as before this incident and thanks to that classic moment, I never say amen until I’m sure I understand what the speaker has said.  I recommend the same strategy to you.  God Bless you today as you live for him!  Dennis

I used to be considered a very conservative Christian.  This will probably shock some who know me now.  I was very staunch in my defense of “sound doctrine” as taught by the Church of Christ .  I grew up in a pretty isolated little community in the Church of Christ .  I didn’t know much while growing up, but I did know that we, in the Church of Christ, were the only ones going to heaven and that it was a shame that all those good people in the Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran and Catholic churches were going to hell if they didn’t convert to the “non-denominational” Church of Christ.  There was no debate about that or much of anything else that I knew of at the time.  (I found out later that there was a debate in our church about whether it was okay to put in a water fountain, but that was under my radar at the time.) 

It wasn’t until I got to a Christian College that I first discovered how much debate was going on in the religious world about various doctrinal topics.  One of the big debates at the time was about pre-millenialism---the thousand year reign.  I had never heard of that word before.  When someone asked me what I thought about it I didn’t know what to say.  So, I called my mom and asked her, “Mom, what do we believe about pre-millenialism?”  She said, “We don’t believe in it.”  So, I told my friend, “I don’t believe in it.”  He was really impressed with my finely tuned and in-depth and expansive Bible knowledge.

It wasn’t until I became a Bible Major and got heavily involved in the doctrinal discussions that my conservative mindset really took hold.  It was pretty much the same mindset that the folks had back home, in reality.  But since there was no one there to debate them it hadn’t really taken hold of me when I was there.  But now it had.

In the years that followed, with pure intentions, I did my best to “defend the faith” and to not be swayed by “false teachers”.  I condemned many people for their hard hearts and their lack of understanding or their unwillingness to see the obvious truth as taught in the scripture.

When I started teaching an adult Bible class (see “Bible Class” blog) I really started studying more deeply so that I would be prepared to defend my position if anyone wanted to challenge it.  This started opening my eyes to things that didn’t exactly line up with the way I had been taught.  The more I studied the more it seemed that we were just like the Pharisees.  I had always pictured myself standing right beside Jesus as he condemned the Pharisees.  It kind of made me squirm to see that he was looking straight at me when he was doing all that scolding.

I had also witnessed a young couple who seemed to have love for people just oozing out of their pores.  They were so ignorant of what the Bible really said (though they thought they weren’t), but I felt so much love from them that it made me re-examine my own life.  I thought to myself about how Christ had said we would know we were his disciples by our love.  From what I could tell, we were not known for our love.  We were known as the ones who didn’t believe in “music” and we were the ones who thought we were the only ones going to heaven.

As my eyes started seeing the light I had this intense battle going on in my mind.  I couldn’t decide if I was being open-minded or if I was “going to the dogs”.  After all, I had (and have) so much respect for those sincere and intelligent men who taught me what I believed and yet the conclusions I was coming to were different than theirs. 

After about two years, after I had time to chew on these things over and over and to test them in many different settings, I came to the conclusion that the old way was not the right way.  It was the way of rules and regulations and Jesus had set us free from those types of things.  It was time for the new way of grace and mercy and love and freedom.

Sometimes I get impatient with my brothers who still believe in the old ways.  As I look back at what I once believed it seems so clearly obvious that it was wrong.  How can anyone not see that?  And yet, while in the heat of the battle, it took me two years to get from there to here.  So, I guess I sometimes need to remind myself about my journey and the patience I needed and then I need to have a little of that patience to deal with my more conservative brothers and sisters on their journey.  After all, I’m thankful for the patience of those who had to deal with me when I was there.  I just pray that God will open their eyes sooner rather than later because these sandals are killing me.  God Bless you, my friends, as we all sojourn together on that road to Emmaus.  Sincerely,  Dennis