MuddyPuddles

Growing up in a Christian home in the panhandle of Texas on an irrigated farm in the 60’s meant that every Saturday night around 11:00 or midnight, someone had to go shut down the irrigation wells (so we could go to church on Sunday and have a day of rest).  We had six wells that each pumped a 7 or 8 inch stream of water 24 hours a day.  Therefore, we shut them down on Saturday night and cranked them up again on Monday morning.  These times were usually pretty uneventful.  I said usually because there was one particular time that stands out as the exception to the rule.  I drove up to one of the wells and had the pickup lights shining on the motor so that I could see to shut it down properly.  When I got out of the pickup, I noticed a pair of eyes reflecting in the lights about 15 or 20 yards on the other side of the well.  As my eyes adjusted I could make out a huge rat out there walking over the rows.  I hate rats.  They give me the heebeejeebees.  They are one of the grossest animals I can think of and I just can’t stand them.  So, I picked up about 5 clods with the intent to rid the earth of this vermin.  If I missed him with the first clod I would have some extra ammunition to take him down.  I rared back and threw the first one with enough intensity to take him out if it connected.  I barely missed.  I knew the second opportunity would be more difficult because I expected him to run so I quickly grabbed my next clod and prepared to throw it.  What I didn’t expect was for him to turn and run straight at me.  My heart jumped into my throat and my adrenalin surged.  I quickly unloaded the second clod and missed.  He was undeterred.  He was coming straight at me with fire in his eyes.  I threw the third and fourth and fifth clods in rapid succession and narrowly missed on all accounts.   Now I was totally unarmed and he was rapidly bearing down on me.  I started jumping and hopping around like a chicken with his head cut off, not knowing if he was going to jump on me or just tear into my leg or what.  It was horrifying as the point of impact was imminent.  Time stood still as I watched him pass between my legs and continued his quest toward the concrete well head and into the hole beside it.  He was going home.  He wasn’t attacking me.  He didn’t have rabies.  He was just going home---to be safe.  It took me a few moments to regain my composure and look around to make sure there were no witnesses lurking out there in the dark.  When I decided I was safe, I shut the well down (keeping a wary eye on that rat hole) and went on my way to the next well.  I offered a prayer of thanksgiving for sparing my life as I wiped the sweat off my brow.  And now, I offer a prayer of thanksgiving for an awesome memory of life one dark scary night on the farm in the panhandle of Texas .  God Bless.  Dennis          

Coyote

I had a slightly older cousin named Leon .  He passed away a few years ago due to health issues but he provided me with a little memory---a little “growing up on the farm” snapshot--- that just embodies the Huckleberry Finn spirit of life in America .  It takes me back to a more innocent time and it just brings me peace to think about it.  It’s a simple little memory I treasure.
It all took place in a wheat field out behind our house.  It all started when we somehow got onto a conversation about coyotes.  We would occasionally see coyotes on our place and evidently we had recently spotted one near this patch of wheat.  This wheat was nearing harvest time so it was a golden brown. On a breezy day it truly embodied that beautiful “amber waves of grain” image we patriotically sing about. 
Now about Leon ---let’s just say that he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the socket (but hey, night lights are good, right).  He was a good kid as far as I could tell and he was always nice to me, but we weren’t real close.  He was a couple of years older than me and I was about 10, which meant my sisters were about 11 and 6 and my brother was about 5.  The five of us plus another cousin or two, decided that we would go on a coyote hunt in the wheat field where the coyote had most recently been spotted.  We also had a dog which was about the size of a coyote and he wouldn’t think of missing a good outing with a bunch of kids on foot. 
Since we were a little young for conventional weapons, I grabbed a hoe and everyone else grabbed some kind of shovel or rake or stick or baseball bat to take along so that we could whack that coyote to death once we snuck up on him.  Leon didn’t need any of those inferior weapons because he had an authentic super hero hunting knife.  It was about six or seven inches long and was made of some kind of stamped out metal (tin, I think) and even the handle was made of that stamped out metal that had been shaped around a mold so that the handle was hollowed out.  You had to be careful if you gripped the handle too tight because you might pinch yourself when it squeezed the two edges together.  Also, the handle was painted in bright, dynamic, cartoon colors and had pictures on it of some super hero or something like that.  He carried it in his authentic fake leather knife sheath which he had attached to his belt.  It had been made in Japan , which, when I was young, meant that it was a glorified piece of junk (and sometimes not so glorified).  But, it was colorful and I never let on that I thought it was anything but a finely honed piece of hunting and self defense equipment like Davy Crockett (or Daniel Boone)himself might have used.
So off we marched in search of our four legged victim which was probably lying down, unaware of the impending danger which was fast approaching.  We had to walk about a quarter of a mile before we actually started sneaking through the field (we were a stealthy crew).  Our highly trained hunting dog was trotting around all over the place, in front of us, behind us, beside us, around us as he was keenly focused on the task at hand.  He was covering all the ground we couldn’t cover in our stealth.  You couldn’t see him but you could see the wheat ripple as he moved about.  A couple of times Leon heard a noise that he thought might have been made by the coyote.  He even thought he might have gotten a glimpse of the coyote once or twice.  Then it happened. 
All of a sudden, Leon twirled around and let his knife fly.  I’m sure it was a magnificent throw.  None of us saw it, however, because we were looking the other way when the coyote evidently decided to attempt his escape from behind us.  I’m not sure how he got behind us but you know how wily these coyotes can be.  Leon was pretty sure that what he saw, however, was the coyote.  He was also pretty sure that his knife hit the coyote in the back leg.  We searched for what seemed like an hour (5 minutes max) and couldn’t find his weapon, which served as further proof that he got the coyote in the leg and that the coyote had run off with it sticking out from his leg.  After considering our options, we decided that the coyote was not likely to come back to this spot any time soon and we didn’t feel like going after him so we called off the expedition and walked back home and settled for a coke float to finish off the adventure.  And, as bad as Leon hated to lose his knife, at least he still had his sheath and a great story to tell his friends.

Bonnie laughed at me last night.  She laughed hard at me.  In fact, she did it several times.  I even laughed at myself a few times (hard) and at her.  It all had to do with phonics.  We don’t think the people who are learning English in Honduras use phonics very much at all---even though some of the classes we teach and some of the books we are using are called “phonics”.  They do use phonics on some of the “oo” sounds and “ow” sounds, etc., but it doesn’t seem like they break down words by sounds (like “dog” –duh  aw  guh, “dog”.  They just learn the words by sight and memorize them.  This would be okay if our language contained about 200 words, but since it contains about a gazillion, it would be a little easier (we think) if they knew the sound that “d” makes (all by itself), as well as the rest of the alphabet.  We have not, in fact, seen the alphabet hanging on any walls.  One teacher wrote the letters “ig” up on the board and she went through several letters to see what letters might join with “ig” to make a word.  But she never made the sound of “ig” or “b” or “p” or “d” so she could put them together to make “big” or “pig” or “dig”.  She either pronounced nothing or she pronounced the completed word.  It’s kind of amazing in a way, but we think it’s the truth.
Maybe it has never occurred to them to break the letters apart like that because it may be that they learn the Spanish language the same way in their schools.  Perhaps they just memorize they way every word looks and never break it down into individual sounds.  We don’t know for sure, but that is what we have come to suspect. 
Friday, the children are going to be sent home early so that Bonnie and I can conduct a workshop with the teachers.  The primary goal will be to make sure the teachers have the proper pronunciation with their words so that they can teach it to the students.  We are debating just what to include in that workshop.   Do we get into the whole phonics thing or do we just concentrate on getting them to have the correct pronunciation on the words we’ve heard mispronounced the most.  We’ll have to decide after we get a little more information.  We have a meeting set up with the principal Thursday evening.  We should know more by then.
The reason Bonnie was laughing at me is because earlier this afternoon I was telling her how I learned phonics in school.  Every day we would go down a little green, hand held, chart and we would, in unison, say “A says a a a, B says buh buh buh, C says cuh cuh cuh”.  She was so kind as to point out that those are not the correct phonetic sounds.  She basically insulted my phonics teachers (may they rest in peace).  Because she is now a Certified Academic Language Specialist, she is pretty technical about things like that.  I don’t really enjoy hearing about all of the special phonetic and spelling rules in all their extended and exception-filled glorious detail any more than she likes hearing about all of my technical memory methods or investment time value of money and various ways to buy and sell discounted notes and to figure the rate of return and other technical stuff that I find fascinating.  In fact, each of us starts getting a little stressed out---a little “pent up”--- when the other starts expanding on those topics for more than about five seconds.  We don’t mind the other one explaining those topics in great detail as long as we can be out of earshot while they are doing it. 
But tonight, in the interest of possibly meeting a need here in Honduras, I actually asked her to teach me the correct phonetic sounds of the alphabet (as she understood it (knowing that my way was really the right way, however)) and she was graciously willing to do so (ha!).  So we started down the alphabet.  We did okay until we got all the way down to “C”.  As I twisted my larynx around to make the proper sound, she burst out laughing (even though I had said it perfectly).  We ground through it a few more times until by coincidence some weird sound came out of my mouth because of some spasm I had and she said “that’s it”.  Rather than risk failure, I didn’t repeat it again and we moved on.  I did okay after that until I got to “K”.  It has the same exact sound as “C” so she burst out laughing again.  I coughed a few times and cut my cough off quickly enough so that she once again accepted it where we could move on.  We did fine until I got to “R”.  Boy did I have trouble with “R”.  It sounded good to me, but it just made her laugh.  She insulted me a few times about my facial gestures as I was twisting my mouth and body around to say “rrrrrr”.  She would keep saying “no, its rrrrrr” to which I would respond “rrrrrr” to which she would say, “no, its rrrrrr”.  She laughed hard at each of my “rrrrr’s” and I laughed after some of hers and said “that’s what I’m saying”.  After awhile she either accepted it or at least acted like she did so we could move on.  I got along pretty well on the rest of the alphabet, thank goodness.  Now that we both have that down PERFECTLY we can work together to teach the Honduran teachers (or maybe not).  It should be interesting if we do it.  You can be confident that I will be able to keep a straight face and not laugh as they do their little Honduran “rrrrrr’s”.
It’s taken us a week and a half to completely pick up on some of the differences in the mindsets and approaches of our two cultures.  And every day we find something else to add to the list.  It just reinforces once again how foolish we, Americans, are sometimes to try to simplistically fit everything into our little preconceived molds.  We have a tendency to think that if it makes sense to us in our environment, then that is the proper way it should be done every where in the world.  But it just isn’t so.  And what works in one culture or environment may not work in another.  What is valued and treasured in one culture is ignored or rejected in another.  We’ve just got to be more accepting of people who are different than us (locally or foreign).  What meets your needs may be totally foreign to what meets the needs of someone else.  But what is important is that those needs are met.  Then, those people can be reached for Christ.  The way we do things in “Church” may be totally fine, but they may need to be modified for other cultures or environments.  As long as God’s purposes and principles are met, that’s fine.  May God bless you this week as you strive to accept those who see things differently than you.  We all might be able to learn something from them if our hearts are right.  Make it so.  Dennis        

There is one little girl in our Honduran school that has taken a special interest in Bonnie and me.  Though many students come up to talk to us briefly, she, more than any other, seems to want to talk with us at greater lengths.  She even eats lunch with us every day.  Her name is Andrelesi and she is in the forth grade.  She speaks pretty good English and carries herself with confidence.  Bonnie and I were talking about her this evening and, because of today being Exam day, Bonnie was able to notice that this little girl struggled on the exam more than some of the other kids.  So, she is probably not as naturally “book smart” as some of the other children.  In spite of that, however, I would bet that she will do pretty well for herself, because she is willing to use what she knows.  She is so willing to speak her English.  There are several of the kids who probably did very well on the exam---significantly better than her---but they are reluctant to speak out.  I think they are self conscious about their ability, or lack thereof, to speak proper English.  They are afraid they may pronounce something incorrectly.  Or they are afraid that they will not have the words in the right order.  Therefore, rather than risk failure, they keep silent.  They bury their gift.  They don’t want to look foolish.  But by making sure they don’t look foolish, they become foolish. 
How much have you held back for fear of looking foolish.  It makes me think of a child who has a talent and who will perform wonderfully if he or she thinks no one is watching, but won’t do anything at all when asked to perform in front of someone.  When that happens everyone loses.  When she performs everyone wins.  And, yet, she seldom performs.  Each of us has a gift or a talent.  It is from God.  We may not be the best in the world at that gift, but it is the gift that God has given us.  He did not give it to us so that we would bury it.  He gave it to us to use to his glory.  When we do, everyone wins.  When we don’t, everyone loses. 
It’s not about how much talent you have.  It’s about what percent of your talent you are using.  And what I’m finding is that we all have more talents than we realize.  But sometimes we can’t see some of them until we’ve used the ones we can see.  Don’t worry if you can’t see all the way to then end.  Go as far as you can see, and when you get there, you can see farther (This saying was not original with me, (rats!)).  My hope for you is that you will do like the song says, “I hope you’ll dance like no one is watching” as you use your gifts for God’s glory this week.  May he Bless you as you step forward to do so.  Dennis

I have an adopted brother, Jonathan, that many of you don’t know about.  I haven’t seen or spoken to him in quite a few years.  I don’t even know where he lives.  He has chosen to go his own way.  I was already in college when my family adopted him so I never really got to know him as well as my younger brothers and sisters did.  My parents had felt that God had blessed us so much that they wanted to share those blessings with another child who had not been so fortunate.  So, at the age of five, Jonathan came into our home.   Jonathan liked cats.  So, from somewhere, he was allowed to bring home a little white kitten.  As fate (or providence) would have it, that kitten probably saved the lives of all of my younger brothers and sisters. 
My dad was on the board of the telephone coop.  That was a rural program which enabled people who lived in the country to have telephone service.  The economics were not there for a regular business to be profitable in providing service to the spread out people in the country so people had to band together to make it happen if they wanted the service---thus the rural telephone cooperative.  The board had meetings about once a month or quarter, I think, and then once a year there would be a national meeting somewhere that the coop would pay the way for.  (I remember one year we went to Washington, D.C. as a part of that.) 
It just so happened that Dad and Mom were going to go to some kind of meeting or special event or luncheon late one Saturday morning and as they were backing out of the garage they ran over and killed Jonathan’s kitten.  What a bad way to start out the day.  Jonathan was crushed (not as badly as the kitten, but crushed, nonetheless).  My parents felt bad.  So, they asked Jace to take all the kids to the matinee movie in Clovis (about 20 miles away) to help take Jonathan’s mind off his loss.  So the kids loaded up in the other car and headed toward Clovis . 
Shortly after they left, the house exploded.  We are not sure if it was the water heater or if it was the pickup (parked in the garage), which had recently been converted to propane fuel or what, but whatever it was had created a violent explosion.  It blew down the brick wall on the opposite end of the house.  The house was burned to the ground in about 30 minutes.  It is not likely that anyone inside would have made it out.  It still makes me shudder to think about how close my family came to a major tragedy that day.  But, thank God---literally---tragedy was avoided. 

(That fire was a turning point in my family’s life.  It had actually been the second house fire within about a two or three year period.  The first one only partially destroyed our house and we rebuilt it afterwards.  With the second fire and the total destruction of every thing in the house, Dad thought that maybe God was telling him it was time to move on and to do something different (his allergies had been worsening every year).  Therefore, he purchased a mobile home to live in until the crops were in and then the family moved to Ruidoso NM where he began building houses.)

I’ve thought about the death of that kitten many times through the years and what might have been had it not died.  It seemed like a tragedy at the moment of the cat´s demise, but it was, in reality, a true blessing.  We often get frustrated about what we perceive to be setbacks or tragedies or obstacles in our lives.  Maybe we shouldn’t.  If we trust in God and we know that he loves us and wants the best for us, then maybe we can consider that he might be putting some of these things in our lives to protect us.  Maybe things don’t work out like we had planned because God has something better in mind for us.  In the past couple of years I can think of several things that didn’t work out like I wanted.  To those things I say “thank goodness” because even better things happened that couldn’t have if my original plan had worked.  Therefore I’ve adopted the mindset that God is in control.  He loves me.  He wants to bless me.  If I trust him and I give him the glory, I know he will bless me bountifully.  That’s just the way he is.  Having that mindset has taken a lot of stress out of my life.  That in itself has been a great blessing.  I encourage you to adopt that mindset as well, because I know he wants to bless you as well (and in deed has been blessing you).  May God Bless you this week as you give him the glory for all the many good things in your life.  Dennis

Luke 6:39 “He also told them this parable:  “Can a blind man lead a blind man?  Will they not both fall into a pit?  40 A Student is not above his teacher. But everyone who is fully trained is like his teacher.”

There is one little girl here in Honduras who told both Bonnie and me on separate occasions that we were wrong with our pronunciation of the word “cut”.  She was emphatic that it should be pronounced “koot”.  We told her that no, it is “cut”.  She finally explained in Spanish that “cut” is too much like “cat” and therefore it should be “koot”.  We’ve also listened to teachers teach that “stove” should be pronounced with the “o” sound of the word “knob”.  Because of that, all the students have been pronouncing the word just like the teacher---“stauve”.  And if these students continue to learn under these teachers, without modification, they would be convinced that “stauve” is the correct pronunciation.  The chance is good that they might even argue with someone down the road who said it should be “stove” the way Americans pronounce it. 

It’s obvious to most of us, who know the English language well, that both the student and the teacher, though well-meaning, are wrong in their pronunciation.  And, thanks to the open-minded principal of the school, Bonnie and I have been brought in to help discover which words they are mispronouncing so that we can correct the students and, more importantly, the teachers so that they can teach more correctly in the future.

I sometimes wonder if we are so open-minded ourselves regarding religious matters.  We think we have the truth, therefore we sometimes reject anyone who tells us we are wrong.  We don’t consider the very real possibility, no matter what, that we may be the ones who are in error.
I prefer to take the approach that I know I am wrong about some things.  I just don’t know what they are at this moment.  But I’m always searching and when I find out, I’m going to change my thinking and or behavior.  With this approach, I’m more open to considering other things when someone is teaching a different way.  I’m not, however, as some would fear, a mind numbed robot who, if allowed to hear any other belief or understanding, will fall hook line and sinker for every wind of doctrine that comes along.  And yet, some of my brethren evidently think that this is what we are because they go crazy if we even allow ourselves to listen to something different than what we’ve been taught for the past 50 years.  Their mind is closed, bolted and locked.  That’s too bad, because with that approach, they are not only locking themselves in to an erroneous understanding, but they are passing it on to those they teach.  And that leads them both to fall into the poot.  God Bless you as you open your eyes to a better way.  Dennis  

We’ve now been in Honduras for seven days and we just completed our first week of school.  I’ve learned the names of about 60 or 70 of the students and am trying to learn more all the time.  It’s just hard to call them back into the mix, when they get distracted, if you don’t know their names.  So, I put a high priority on learning them.  Bonnie has struggled a little more than I to learn the names since she’s dealing with the lower grades where they are able to speak less English and therefore communication is more of a problem. 

I feel like we’ve made some progress in helping them with their pronunciation, but there is still much work to do.  And, so much of this week was about learning the routines, adapting to their system, seeing the needs and reflecting on how to approach next week in the most effective manner.  It was a good week, but I believe next week will be better.

This school is made up of kindergarten through grade 5.  It started off six years ago as a kindergarten and has added a grade each year since.  They hope to eventually have 12 grades.  The building is all new and has been built in stages as the need arises and as funds become available.  When we visited in January, the cafeteria, which is now complete, was under construction.  The grounds are beautiful with St Augustine type grass and many fruit trees and small bushes and flowers.  The goal is to create a beautiful oasis for the kids to experience.
The exterior walls of the classroom are made of concrete blocks for the first three feet from the floor.  Above that is louvered glass windows most of the way to the ceiling.  You can open these louvers to allow cross ventilation.  Amazingly, much if not most of the time that I have entered a classroom, most of the windows are closed.  Because I like a cross breeze on hot days, I go open them.  I’ve asked several teachers, “do you mind if I open the windows?”  They have always said, “No, I don’t mind---a breeze would be good” or something to that effect.  Meanwhile, the students, especially when they come back from recess or lunch (5 minutes eating and 25 minutes running and playing) are sweating profusely while sitting in their chairs (without complaint for the most part).  The floors are tile and the walls in between classrooms are concrete blocks or plywood.  The ceiling is the metal framework and the metal roof.  So, as you can imagine, with all these hard surfaces and thin windows and about 150 children, the noise level makes for an interesting educational environment.  It took me a few days to kind of get used to it.  They seem to have the ability to filter out most of the noise. 
Most of the children come to the school by riding one of the two school buses that are provided or by carpooling with one of the parents who owns a car.  The school has a security fence all around and the security guard keeps the gates locked except when he is letting people in or out.  The kids seem to thoroughly enjoy being there.  They are so warm and friendly and spend a lot of time running and smiling and playing.  There is a long rope that is used for jumping.  A teacher and one student (usually) swing the rope while a line forms to the side.  A child gets to jump the rope until she/he messes up and then they have to go to the back of the line.  To keep this from taking too long, as soon as the child starts jumping, the speed with which the rope is swung keeps getting faster and faster.  Therefore, rarely does anyone jump more than about 10 or 15 seconds.  Other kids are playing soccer and others basketball.  Some are just running and laughing.  It is a delight to just sit and watch them play and have fun in this clean safe environment.
I asked Bonnie if this was the way the children are in Texas and she said “yes.”  So, I guess children are just children---mostly delightful with a few challenging ones thrown in for good measure.  As I watch these children I can’t help but wonder what their future will be in this culture that has restricted options.  My hope is that they can overcome the obstacles and do well for themselves and for this country.  It is such a beautiful country with such beautiful people, but the economic and political environment makes the odds of succeeding in a meaningful way much less likely than for the children of Texas .  Hopefully, because of schools like this and a few farsighted people who have a vision for a better future in Honduras , this can change.  God Bless.  Dennis    

One of our main goals here in Honduras is to teach the students (and the teachers) the correct pronunciation for English words.   One of the problems they are having is that the Honduran accent that the teachers have is what the children are learning.  So, we work on it every day and every period.  I thought we were doing a pretty good job until I happened to walk by the classroom where Bonnie was teaching and I heard her say “Poot jore peenseel een jore noatbewk end luke et me.” (which is “pig Spanish” for “put your pencil in your notebook and look at me”.) Then I realized we had a little backwash going on here.  It’s not really that bad but when Bonnie told me today that she had caught herself saying “poot” instead of “put”, I died laughing because I had caught myself doing something very similar as well.  It’s like all these people have ganged up on us to try and make our English sound like theirs.

Today I watched one little 5^th grader, Avalardo, give a research report.  It was about erosion.  He was in the front of the room facing the class and I was sitting in a chair about four feet to his right.  I could almost reach out and touch him.  He had a poster taped to the board and he read from it as he told about his information and pointed at things with his yardstick.  He would say “eruption” when he meant “erosion” and he mispronounced so many words that I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.  He was pronouncing words like “flewd” (flood) and several other words that I can’t recall and he had such a serious look on his face and he was so sincere in his delivery.  It was all I could do to not laugh.  I did have my hand over my mouth at this point.  Then he said “teacher, I have a demonstration” to which the Honduran teacher in the room said “okay, do your demonstration.”  So Avalardo went over to the corner and got our two rectangular rocks that weighed about four or five pounds each.  He laid them on the floor where he had been standing.  Then he tore open a little baggie of sand and dumped it on one rock.  On the other rock he placed a folded towel.  This was to represent vegetation.  Then he needed to go get some water but the teacher told him to use some water of another student (bottled water).  I began squeezing my face to keep from laughing as I was starting to get more tickled at the sight of him putting these rocks and dirt on the tile floor and anticipating all that was about to take place.  So he grabbed the bottle and bent down and started pouring the water.  He meant to pour it on the rock with the sand on it, but it came out a little fast and over shot the rock and went directly to the floor behind the rock.  That’s where I lost it.  I was able to laugh quietly enough that he couldn’t hear me (the noise level from the other classes is deafening) but I was bouncing uncontrollably and starting to sweat (more than usual) and turning red in my efforts to not hurt his feelings.  He finally got the water onto the sand and eroded it off of the rock and then he poured water onto the towel to show how the vegetation prevented erosion.  As I glimpsed up, several of the students were looking at me and were laughing almost as hard as I was, but not at the demonstration.  They were laughing at this “gringo loco” and wondering what he had in his water bottle that made him so crazy.  Avalardo finally finished his demonstration and then had to go get a mop to clean up this rocky mud pit he had created.  It was quite a demonstration.  I then went over his poster board and corrected the pronunciation and the whole class repeated after me.  What a great experience.  If you don´t find it humorous, this is one of those things where you had to be there.  At least I enjoyed it.           

 We are thankful for the opportunity to be here.  I´m really enjoying these beautiful people.  God Bless, Dennis

When I get back home I will be adding “Magnificent Obsession” and “Dr Hudson’s Secret Journal” to my book list on the side.  These books were written by Lloyd C. Douglas back in 1939 and 40.  I ordered them from Amazon.com a few weeks ago on the recommendation of “windswept”.  (He’s one of the special commenters on my blog.)  I just finished reading the second one tonight and they were excellent.  I recommend them to you as well.  (Thank you, windswept, for recommending them.)

Part of what prompted me to list them in today’s post was some scary verses that I found in the Gospel of Luke this morning.  Though they are not exactly the same, they reminded me of some similar things in the two books.  Those things are located in chapter 6 beginning with verse 30 where Jesus said “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.”  Then, in verse 35 he said “Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back.  Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the most high, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.  36 Be merciful just as your Father is merciful.”  Make sure you comprehend what Jesus is saying in those verses before you read on. 
These are tough orders, aren’t they? (Or are they suggestions?).  Do you think Jesus meant it when he said these things?  Do you know anyone who really practices the messages of these verses?  Surely there is some Greek word that means “Kings X” to these things.  Surely there is some historical context that can explain away or minimize these verses.  Surely these verses are not as important to follow as those about singing and the Lord’s Supper and the like.  Are they?

I think it is time we look at them again.  They are going to require some serious faith to implement.  Do I dare?  Do you dare?  Ponder it---and don’t get back to me.  (Read the book and you’ll know exactly what I mean.)  God Bless you as you strive to live as he would have you.  Sincerely,   Dennis

I’ve mentioned before that the lights are pretty dim in our house in Honduras ---especially in the kitchen and living room.  There is one bulb (possibly a 15 watt) about 10 feet above the floor in each of those rooms.  I’ve finally figured out how to tell if the light has been turned on.  First of all, you have to look directly at it.  If it has a yellow tint, the light is on.  If it is more of a white tint, the light is off and you should go flip the switch.  And that’s the main way you can tell if the light has been turned on.  I thought about getting a 25 or 40 watter but I would have to stand on the table to reach them and I’m not sure those wobbly legs would hold me.  And, it may blow the whole fuse box to switch it out, so we’ll just get by or go into the bedroom where you can tell if the light is on because it makes a shadow.  Let your light shine.  Dennis