9/11

Today is September 11, 2012.
9/11.
A day of remembrance.
Two jets flew into the twin World Trade Center towers in New York City.
One jet flew into the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.
One jet crashed into a field in the country side of Pennsylvania.
On this day,lives were lost. Families changed forever by the events that transpired.

We saw the destruction that can be brought into our lives by people who are determined to bring death to the shore of our country. Driven by a mixture of religion and politics those who hijacked the jets on 9/11/01, allowed themselves to be swallowed up in a false dogma that lead them to give their lives for what they perceived to be a just cause. I guess the truth of what Jeremiah the prophet wrote still rings true today. "The heart is deceitful above all things....who can know it?"

Some have asked, "Where was God that day?" Why would we think that He would be anywhere but there in the midst of the events that took place? There are those who claim that if God truly did exist and loved us, He would have stopped the destruction and never allowed it to happen. I'm not smart enough to make such a claim. I do know that since those events of 9/11, I have seen the hand of God at work in the middle of the chaos. I have watched over and over in replays on television,as those towers fell, and wondered to myself why did they simply fall straight down? Why did they not tumble and tip over? Could it be that the hand of God directed all that steel and metal, glass and concrete to simply fall straight down? Rest assured God was there in New York, and in Washington, D.C. and in Pennsylavania.

Some have made statements that what we, as a nation, experienced on that day was a judgment from God. I don't know. I'm not smart enough to figure that one out. I have prayed about it and the only answer I have received is, "Trust me." Just because I have a need to ask God hard questions, doesn't mean that He is obligated to answer me. I still must live by faith that God is who He claims to be, and will do what He claims He will do. I trust Him.

I was at Gadsden Vineyard Church that morning of 9/11. I usually arrived at the church between 7 and 7:30 a.m. Sitting in the main room, studying and preparing for a teaching I was to give that afternoon at Rapha, the phone rang. It was my wife calling to tell me what had happened. I immediately went home to watch the news coverage. I remember standing in my living room watching CNN as they gave report after report of what had taken place. I prayed. I prayed, yet didn't even have words to physically say.Over and over....."Oh God, please be God in the middle of all of this. Be God! Be God!" In other words, my heart was asking that God would bring to bear His nature and His character in the middle of this event. I prayed that healing would be brought to those who needed it. I prayed protection over the workers, the Medics, The Firemen and Police. I prayed.

Eleven years after the fact, I am now more convinced than ever that God was indeed there when those Towers came down. He wasn't silent and He wasn't absent. He wasn't any less God simply because I don't understand why things turned out like they did.
I rest in the knowledge that He is God today.
Should another even take place like what happened on 9/11, He will continue to be God.
There is a comfort in that thought.

God on you.....
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Rahab, A Woman Changed

The heart of salvation is a change of charcter as the Holy Spirit works in us. This is a message from our Saturday night meeting here at Rapha that touches on the life of a woman named Rahab.

Feel free to download the message or copy it to record to CD.
Hope you enjoy.......
God on you....
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What Are you Waiting For?

Joshua 18:3 (Message Bible)

Joshua addressed the people of Israel: "How long are you going to sit around on your hands, putting off taking possession of the land that God, the God of your ancestors, has given you?

I Kings 18:21 (Message Bible)

Elijah challenged the people: "How long are you going to sit on the fence? If God is the real God, follow Him. If it's Baal, follow him. Make up your minds!"

Not willing to commit is the death of any recovery.

Half hearted commitment is the death of any recovery.

Not choosing one way or another is the death of any recovery.

Procrastination is the death of any recovery.

From my perspective, recovery begins with a commitment to surrender will and life over to God (Step # 3). Then a simple "following" of the steps that aid us in making good choices. I guess maybe that is why we read in the big book of A.A...."Rarely have we seen anyone fail who has thoroughly followed our path."

This new life that God is entrusting us with cannot, nor will it, grow by ignoring it.
By not choosing to study His word.
It will not grow if I don't cultivate my relationship with Him.

Some believe that after their saved (or born again), nothing else is needed. The thought almost seems like, "Let's kick it in GRACE gear and cruise." As if Grace were the answer to every mess up that is made. Well, there are two kinds of mess ups. (1.) Where I'm trying to do the right thing and I get it wrong. And (2) The kind where I don't give a rip one way or the other, and I get it wrong. I don't think grace covers the second one.

I like what Hebrew 2:1-2 says...."It's crucial that we keep a firm grip on what we've heard so that we don't drift off. If the old message delivered by the angels was valid and nobody got away with anything, do you think we can risk neglecting the latest message, this magnificent salvation?" In other words....now is the time to be more aware and in tune with what God is speaking to us.  The more I fall in love with Jesus, the more I want to be like Him. The more I want to be like Him, the more I find myself studying His word, talking with Him, listening for Him and hanging out with people who are like minded.

Who am I truly listening too..?
Who is it that is bringing influence to me?
Is it society and culture?
Or is it the Holy Spirit working in me?

If you have truly made the commitment to follow God, then you are kind of in an in-between place in your recovery. You're leaving an old life style and trying to find the new one. The more you press into the forward movement with God, the farther you move from your old way of living and doing business with the world.

I want you to be encouraged today...
You may be fighting against a tug in your heart that tells you to give up...go back to the old ways....
God will strengthen you to not quit.

All you have to do is TODAY! Just TODAY!

Philippians 3:12-14

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have made it. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward ----to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.

God on you.....

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Doing The Right Thing

Obey....
To do what is expected.
To carry out instructions.
To do the right thing.
Obey....
Why is it we have such a hard time with that word? Simple. Each of us are carrying around a remnant from the first man and the first woman.
The woman....well, she was deceived into disobeying God.
The man.....not so much.
He wilfully disobeyed God's instructions.
What is it we carry around?
A sin nature.
A nature.....
A bent to be in control of our lives outside of the influence or control any anyone or anything. Sin nature left to run rampant and we see a life that is steeped in rebellion against any and all authority.
There...
I just explained every problem that mankind faces on the planet today.

Trouble in the middle East?
Sin is the root of it.
Dirty politics and scandal?
Sin is the root of it.
Religious foolishness?
You guessed it.
Sin is the root of it.

It takes the POWER of Jesus Christ to break the hold that sin has over us.
His shed blood, two thousand + years ago created a way to have the power of sin broken off of us. It is called Salvation. We are made right in the eyes of God and can have this real, tangible relationship with Him.

Somehow we think that even after coming to Christ, we have to perform...
We have to get it right...We have to walk out our days in our own strength and ability....
Not so.
God fills us with Power through His Holy Spirit (Acts 1:8).
Filled with such Power, our job is to simply obey.
It's funny how our minds can deceive us and tell us what "we think" God wants of us. Such thoughts usually send us over into what I refer to as "religion". I've heard it explained that religion is man's attempt to reach God, whereas relationship is God reaching down to man. I think I prefer the second rather than the first explanation.

We read in I Samuel 15:22 - "Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams."

God on you, today.....
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NiCad's For Jesus! I Get A Charge

Saturday! Just the sound of the word makes me smile. I've made it through another week. If I look out my window, I see that my yard is mowed. Even as I sit here at my computer, typing out this post, I can hear the percolator "thumping and chugging" to prepare me my first cup of coffee. Saturday.

Saturday is my Sunday. Huh?
Saturday is the day I go to church. I've done it so long now (14 years) that it has just seems normal.
No, I'm not a Seventh Day Adventist. I'm just trying to hear God and be obedient to what He has called me to.

Back in '98...(that 1998 by the way) when we started our recovery focused church, we felt God leading us to hold our services on Saturday night. In some ways, to take back a night that had been dedicated to the devil. People in addiction used Saturday night for extended binges. It was a night to party. You could even say, the devil held his church on Saturday nights. Early on, as we began to meet on Saturday, I had a couple who were part of our leadership bring me a verse that they felt was kind of a defining to what we were doing. Psalm 134 - Behold, bless the LORD, all servants of the LORD who stand by night in the house of the LORD. Lift up your hands to the sanctuary and bless the LORD. May the LORD, bless you from Zion, He who made heaven and earth. 

When we first moved to Rapha and started a meeting, we were given Sunday morning as our time slot.
It just didn't work. The men would come in, some sleepy and not wanting to be there. Others scratching their heads not understanding the type of service we were having. This went on for two years. I don't know, maybe God was seeing if we'd be faithful and obedient during this time. But in May of 2008, we made the move to Saturday night and we haven't looked back.

Saturday is a time when Vicki and I get our batteries recharged. We get to meet with people we love and worship in song and Word. We get to be a part of the group and receive from God. Like I said, we get our batteries recharged. We get to see God move in a group of people who are not very familiar with His ways. We get to see people saved.
We get to see people healed.
We have our own souls strengthened, and we receive healing both physically and emotionally.

One of the passages always points me to Saturday night is found in the book of Isaiah.
Isaiah 40:31 --  Yet those who wait for the LORD will gain new strength (or renew their strength) They will mount up on wings like eagles. They will run and not get tired. They will walk and not become weary. That's the way I feel after we finish on Saturday night. It never fails. As I am the last one leaving the building, I always take a moment before I leave the room and just ponder on what had happened. The Way God moved on the men. Tears that were shed because of the goodness and faithfulness of God. I always think to myself, "Wow! God, you are incredible and to think you let us be a part of your Kingdom. How are you going to top this meeting?"  You know what? He does it every week. Why does God come each Saturday night? Because the room becomes filled with hearts who are hungry to meet Him. That's why.

God on you.....
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The Soldier

I'm never far from the memory, and even now if I pull it up I can feel the heat of that day. Sun beating down, not a breeze stirring anywhere. Thoughts of home and family swirled in my mind like a bothersome fly. "Focus," I told myself. Why? I've done this hundreds of times. Now wouldn't be any different than the others. The dark fact was that each time I found myself participating in this ritual, I lost a little piece of my soul. Each face, each cry for mercy fell on ears that had become deaf and a heart that had become cold and hard. It was business as usual and I was good at it.

I don't remember any of the names. Too many...
I barely remember the faces, after a while you don't even pay attention any more, you just go through the motions.
But I'll never forget his.
I didn't really give it any thought during our journey to the hill. We simply plodded along, keeping that nameless criminal or insurrectionist upright, tyring  not to let them die before we got there. That was our business. Keep the condemned alive until we could kill him. Almost seems laughable now.

Here we were in a strange land, with a people we didn't understand, who had customs and laws we couldn't make sense of. So these rituals we carried out daily helped us to vent our anger and hatred. Each day that passed, I felt a little less human. This scared me. Would my wife know me when I returned home? Could I ever tell my children what I had done during my tour of duty?
Or would my time in Jerusalem become nothing more than whispered tales spoken among comrades at reunions. 

There was always a strange mixture of people who followed to the hill, as well as lining the streets as if this were entertainment for their boring lives. Cries from the crowd ranged from "Mercy!" to "Make him pay!" Such hatred was directed to the one we were guiding to death. Steep inclines coupled with the weight of the cross beam caused many a man to stumble and fall. We would snatch them up quickly, placing the beam on their shoulders, striking out at an even faster pace in order to complete the days task.

There was one though...
A particular man....
A teacher that seemed to draw a strange mixture of praise and derision every where he taught.
Some of the locals felt that this man was what the referred to as their Messiah...a deliverer....If this be true, it was all the more reason for us to crucify him. Shut down this fledgling movement before it gained popularity and keep the populace in line.

Pilate, the Roman governor, was under great pressure from Rome to put down any insurrection and to keep the peace here in Jerusalem. Caught between the religious rulers, who threatened him with correspondence to Caesar himself, Pilate walked a fine line between duty and keeping the populace in line, placated and satisfied. The last thing he needed was to be pulled from this duty station and called back to Rome. With this weighing on Pilate, he gave the crowd what they wanted........crucify the Galilean. This teacher, this rabbi, this Jesus.

Once on the crest of the hill, I knocked him to his knees and rolled him over on his back, cross underneath. Tying ropes to his hands, we stretched them out so they could be nailed in place. Funny. I remember the feel of that mallet even to this day. The weight of it as I lifted it off the ground. The balance that it carried, knowing the force needed to penetrate flesh and muscle. Wrapping my fingers around the handle of that mallet, Jesus' arm stretched out to the fullest, I swung the hammer over my head. The target? A six-inch Roman spike...forged in fire to strengthen the tinsel of the metal. This would hold any man in place. Mustering up all my strength, at the height of the arch, I brought the hammer down full force. To this very day, i will never forget the sound it made when that mallet would connect with the spike. A sickening, dull thud that pushed the nail through flesh, muscle and humanity, down into the wood. Repeated to the other side, arms were now securely in place. Turning my attention to the feet....they too were also nailed in place. The one thing I remember about this Jesus....He never cried out....He endured this like no other man I had ever seen.

Attaching ropes, we lifted the cross up and dropped it down into a hole, driving wedges all around to keep it from tilting or falling over. Then we waited. This was the hard part. Not that I felt anything, I didn't. I had lost all sense of feeling. No...we passed the time waiting for death to claim the latest victim, by casting lots to see who would possess the personal belongings of the condemned.

This man named Jesus kept talking from the cross. I don't remember much....
"Forgive them...they don't know what they're doing." I don't know who "THEY" were, didn't make any difference.
The end came after about three hours. It was as if this Jesus had summoned up every ounce of strength he possessed so he could make a final declaration....
With a voice of authority, he cried out...."It Is Finished!"
That was it.
He died...
Strange weather that day also.
Eclipse of the sun brought darkness over the entire land. This was followed by an earthquake that seemed to shake the very foundation of earth itself. Then quietness. Strange, eerie quietness.

The days that followed were filled with outrageous stories about this Jesus.
Some say he rose from the dead and was seen at different parts of the city.
Others said that his disciples had stolen the body and were perpetrating this resurrection story. All I know is that his followers didn't disband. In fact they seem to grow in numbers. They were every where talking about a coming kingdom....how we needed to change our hearts and our ways. That this Jesus had paid an eternal price for our lives. I was very intrigued by what I heard. I didn't share it with my fellow soldiers for fear they would accuse me of treason. But I never forgot what happened that day.

Now here I am back in Rome...
Back home...
Back with my wife and children.
I have traded in my long years of service to Rome in foreign countries for a softer job.
I have been assigned to over see the house arrest of one of these followers of Jesus....Someone named Paul.
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Thanks for letting me be creative this morning.
I hope you enjoyed the story....
God on you....
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To Murray

I don't know if it is just me or not, but the days seem to be rolling on at a furious pace.
Here we are, already into September by 6 days and it seems like we were celebrating New Years just a little while ago.

Received a phone call yesterday that Murray Miller had died. Murray was a unique individual. Carpenter and all around fix-it man by trade, there wasn't anything he couldn't do. He loved cowboy hats and boots (but you know...I never saw him ride a horse). Drove an old beat up pick up truck that had an 8-track tape player in it. How cool was that. The tape player didn't worked, but Murray just liked the idea that it was there for viewing to anyone who wanted to see it.
Murray had ad an old dog named Bo that rode with him every where he went. Murray always had a red bandana tied around Bo's neck. I'm not sure, but I don't believe that Bo or Murray had any gang affiliation.
Murray liked coming out to Rapha to talk with the guys, share his story and just encourage those he could. He was hard core "12 Step" believer.

I married Murray and his girlfriend, Pat, back in 2004. It was an impromtu kind of wedding but one that was part of Murray's plan to make amends and put things right in his life. He had walked a hard road, one filled with a lot of pain. Some of that pain was self-inflicted, some wasn't. I lost track of Murray about two years ago. I think he moved to South Alabama to be near his mother. She was getting to the point that she really didn't need to be living by herself, so Murray was trying to take care of her.

The person who called yesterday told us that Murray died of Cancer.
I will miss him.
Seems to be an all too familiar thing now.....phone calls and such telling us that someone has died.
I know it's a part of life.
Doesn't mean I have to like it. I accept it.
The older you get, the faster the death's seem to come.
How can anyone make it through this life without Jesus?
I'll never understand that.
Of course, in my simple mind, I have a hard time trying to figure out why everyone doesn't want to quit using.
So this morning.......this Thursday morning........September 6, 2012, I will go to Rapha to teach and council and love on those who have come looking for help. I go in the knowledge that not everyone is sincere in their recovery. But I go in the knowledge that what we teach works. Jesus is that Higher Power we all have been looking for. 
Why not give yourself to Him and to a program today?
God on you....
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