Testing Faith

The author of Hebrews wrote, “not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching”. There is much to explore in this biblical principal, but I am not writing this morning as a Bible teacher but as a churchgoer whose heart is troubled by the events of the day.
The Corona virus has momentarily changed the way we live. The way we assemble. How we come together as neighbors, friends and family, has been changed because of the unknown. This morning, I learned the far-reaching tentacles of this virus is a respecter of none. The senior pastor of my church, Trinity Baptist Church, went to social media to announce changes in worship schedules because of the threat the virus carries. Some services and ministries were cancelled for the week. Pastor encouraged us to live stream services on Sunday morning instead of assembling in God’s house to worship.
Bible study classes are cancelled.
My heart is broken.

I understand precautions are required when disorder is tainted by fear. But every Sunday for so many years, I listened for words that encourage our faith in God, spoken from the pulpit of Trinity Baptist Church. Words about trusting that He is sovereign and loving and everywhere! I believe God's words written throughout scripture that command us to trust Him, to love Him, and to worship Him. I believe His words when he said do not forsake the assembling of ourselves…for when we do, we move our trust from Him to trust in man.

Today we are experiencing is a testing of our faith.

I believe God’s got this! The moment I stop believing is the moment I run away from Him. I believe He hears my prayers. I prayed, as I am certain many of you have, God would be among us as we battle this virus. My words of prayer are wasted if I don’t believe the One hearing them is faithful in His promises.
I am not suggesting you or I be careless in our behavior. The science has shown that most are at very low risk. Those who are at higher levels of risk should take every precaution to avoid exposure. But the choice should be ours.
Life will go on. So should our worship of God. The doors to our churches should be open. Our voices should be lifted to God, our hands raised to the heavens. Our faith can, if we allow it to, withstand every test.
Trust Him.
See you Sunday.

Tell Me a Story

Everyone loves a story. Early in life we listen with wonderment at the bedtime stories told to us by loving parents. We travel through life as stories unfold before our eyes and ears during Saturday morning cartoons, at the drive-in on Friday nights and again on Sunday mornings from the pulpit. Storytellers guide us through life with their words and pictures. We don’t call them storytellers, instead they are authors, cartoonist, screenwriters, preachers, artists and parents. But each, at their core, are storytellers.

Growing up, I craved the company of the talented storyteller. With their tales they whisked me away from the humdrum of reality. From the Jetsons to Bugs Bunny and his loony sidekicks, to the stories of Mark Twain, Leslie McFarlane and Lewis Carroll, to Sunday nights with the wonderful worlds of Disney, I would feed my imagination at their table. With the 70s I discovered storytellers masquerading as songwriters; Sir Elton, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchel and Paul Simon, grand lyricist whose stories were enhanced by musical notes.

I loved hearing all the stories. Then one day I discovered I wanted to tell stories as much as I wanted to hear them. I wanted to tell them, sing them and write them.

“A Red Dress Night” is a collection of the stories that have pushed through the gray matter and come to life before my very eyes. The characters, the places, the plots, all born unexpectedly as I sat on my back porch sipping coffee or laying awake deep into the night letting my thoughts go wherever they desired.

I hope you read my stories and that they will bring you the momentary escape I have longed for since a child old enough to hold minds with Dr. Seuss. I think they are good stories, some great. But I am biased, so I leave it up to you, the reader to judge.

You can order your copy today at A Red Dress Night (Kindle Edition). The paperback edition should be ready to release midweek.

Happy reading,

Jim

The Art of Pain

photo by optic-echo DeviantArt

As a writer, I should provide the reader with dozens of descriptive words which portray pain. But sometimes, a photograph or drawing, a piece of art splashed across a barren canvas, can accomplish what words alone fail to do. I searched the internet for a locum tenens for this one we call Pain. I didn't have to search long to find a photograph I believed completely contains the essence of Pain. This photo is called god of pain. A profound description which seemingly bucks against my belief that God is the greatest Healer, Soother and Comforter. But I did not let the words chosen by the artist distract or persuade me in my choice or my beliefs. I was hypnotized by the artistic value of this photograph. I wonder if the mystery of pain influenced the artist to create  or if an unnamed photograph demanded to be called god of pain.

"Pain" as a word standing alone solicits little emotion. When we add to it, emotions can be concerted or pitied. Pain and suffering, back pain, neck pain, pain in the arse. The pain of loss and growing pains. The pain of not knowing. The pain of finding out. The pain of heartbreak.
There is great pain and small pain. The former is always ours. We must not forget, as much as I try to, painkillers, pain shots, pain medicine and the pain of withdraw. 
Pain knows no boundaries and is a respecter of none. All have experienced pain. All will encounter pain again. It is as old as sin and as fresh as a new morning.
I sit here tonight contemplating this unwanted intruder. A hair's breadth away from proclaiming the worst of pain. The Pain of Pains, The King of Agony. I call it-
The Toothache.