Feeling A Little Like Job

"Is there not a time of hard service for a man on earth? Are not his days also like the days of a hired man" (Job 7: 1).

Though I am not in the same situation as Job, that honorable man of Uz, who had lost a hair shy of everything he had, including his children and livestock to natural disasters and thieves, my heart relates to him in the way that all men might be able to. I simply struggle too. We all do. I especially do not mind struggling, for it brings change and strength to my maturity and understanding. He who increases knowledge of God increases his strength says Solomon in one pearl of Proverbs, and thus it is that I have learnt this very simple fact: God will show me a thing instead of telling me. "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of kings is to search out a matter " (Proverbs 25: 2).

Coming home this morning felt so wonderful, like a revelation, a gift of good news being sent through my soul, to be given the chance to work and come home tired and ready for rest is a blessing unto itself. My feet ache and my skin feel the irritation of the fiberglass, which is always the usual feeling of working in the Pultrusion department of a window and door manufacturer on a twelve hour shift. Ah, so good!

"If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God" (Colossians 3:1).

Honor and glory be to the Lord, for He is my God, and today He strengthened me to go further in my walk and interests in life, real, unmistakable life. Early in the morning after midnight, as I put my latest reading down on my brown, upholster-challenged recliner I prayed to Him for the desire to be motivated throughout the day ahead, to be given strength to split and stack wood in addition to spraying the weeds in the neighbors' driveway and walkways around their home for some extra funds. My day off was ahead of me. I at first was reluctant to get out of my bed, which at 7:00 AM or when your mind's psychology is wired to rest after it's body's laboring of any time before, feels like the only meaningful thing in the world. Of course that is just plain stupid to think that way, but in the moment you're almost always tricked into believing the lie. Making the coffee felt great, when in time it was finished it was even better; although, there was an absence to value to drinking my coffee because no one was around to share it with me. Another piece of emotional work checked off on the list.

I prepared for the day with some bacon and three fried eggs, a doughnut, a couple glasses of water, and a couple chapters in Colossians, which I read throughout the day (on my lunch break and when work was over). Uplifted in body and soul, from a hearty breakfast and a first century exhortation, I took with me water and gloves out the front door, leaving Zip, the red heeler, to fend for himself inside. The four horses managed to break through the coiled electric gate to the bottom hay field, which is not very shocking--pardon the cheap pun--because our landlords' terminal is one with weak voltage. "Lousy horses, " I thought to myself as I walked each horse one by one by halter to the top "triangle pasture". After that business, with cleaning and filling the 50 gallon water trough, it was 10:00 AM, and I finally started getting after those sprouting weeds.

Imagining and simply day dreaming can motivate a man to work at a moderate rate and with good quality; of course there must be some restrictions to being infatuated with those wondrous topics on the bulletin board in your thoughts, for the task sometimes is forgotten when he drifts too far. I drift in and out of deep thought as I am working, though when I am immersed in my job, my brow will narrow, wrinkling my forehead, and my eyes will concentrate on my duty. I did this today as I wielded maul, sharp and solid as it came down on hemlock and maple wood for a good five hours. Recollecting, there was a cheesy memo on the news board at work, which offered tips on getting that "second wind" during the long hours of your shift. One tip said, "Take an Imagi-cation", which from what I observed is simply taking little imaginary vacations. That made me laugh like a madman when I read it, spreading my glee to my co-works who really didn't think it was as funny as I did, and some didn't think it was funny at all. They probably have never taken an Imagi-cation, so they can't understand the innocent splendor (i.e., a cheap thrill) one feels when he takes off on one of those high-flying expeditions into unseen spaces. It is of unending joy, straight up and with no question. I have heard some people say that Paul the apostle "was just some man who wrote a bunch of angry letters", but that kind of statement is made by the skeptic, the right-off the-bat sort, who needing the truth as much as anyone, has built a thousand-mile thick wall between him and God. Reading Paul's epistles, and particularly his letter to the Colossians, reveals the truth that he wasn't writing them for sake of writing until his hand cramped up or until he ran out of papyrus scrolls in a Roman prison cell. When reading, really studying all of the Bible and what this minister wrote shows and that it all came to be by the Holy Spirit (this is where the agnostic, atheist, and the liberal theologist throws all his unbelief and pride against Scripture, for the "hard-core" unbeliever does not believe because, I think, he relies too much on how and why instead of being curiously accepting). Read Colossians 2: 20-23 below:

Therefore, if you died with Christ from the basic principles of the world,
why as though living in the world, do you subject yourselves to regulations--"Do
not touch, do not taste, do not handle," which all concern things which perish
with the using--according to the commandments of men? These things indeed have an appearance of wisdom in self-imposed religion, false humility, and neglect of the body, but are of no value against the indulgence of the flesh.

He was a tool in the Carpenter's hand, the clay in the work of the Master's hand. Saying what he said there, he was reproaching the ideas that to be right with the Lord one must abide by laws which are of no value, more directly, he was telling everyone that the law was a "tutor", and that these regulations are not needed anymore, for grace interjected at the cross in Jesus' sacrificial death, and faith in Christ is like giving up on earthly means of entrance into heaven. It is odd that today, when you talk about heaven, people act as if they don't really care which way they go when they kick the bucket and push up daises. "It's all here and now, not there and then." Reading the Word today in a consistent way offered much insight and learning, and for this I thank the Author and Finisher of my faith, Christ Jesus.

At Fort Lewis the Army has been dropping shells and testing their weaponry all day, so as I worked I could hear the distant thump and echo of dropped explosives, all very well heard and felt. Living near a military base is quite a thrill. I have some friends who were born and bred on those installations in the U.S.A. and overseas, which would be a real thrill needless to say. Just a quick thought: It puts me in amazement to hear of the many situations all of us--believers and nonbelievers--are in today. We are in an exciting and trying time; war is looming always, and new causes of illness are very often discovered, and man is constantly moving toward aspirations and his desires. In the words of God as He came down to see the city and tower of Babel, "Now nothing that they propose to do will be withheld from them. Come, let Us go down and there confuse their language, that they may not understand one another's speech" (Genesis 11: 6, 7).

A Seattle Seagull 

Celebration of Christ's Resurrection

"Now after the Sabbath, as the first day of the week began to dawn, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb. And behold, there was a great earthquake; for and angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat on it. His countenance was like lightning, and his clothing as white as snow. And the guards shook for fear of him, and became like dead men. But the angel answered and said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead, and indeed He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him. Behold, I have told you" (Matthew 28: 1-7).

Today is the celebration of Christ's Blessed Resurrection, His conquest over death, and the eternal life open now for all to be blessed with. Death is now a flame's shadow. Some go on with that flickering wick, but all in vain do they carry it. Charles Wesley's hymn Christ the Lord is Risen Today shall be the extent of this entry. The joy for today's celebration is so perfectly expressed in this:

Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say: Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply: Alleluia!

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal; Alleluia!
Christ has burst the gates of hell: Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids His rise; Alleluia!
Christ has opened paradise! Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once He died, our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

Hail, the Lord of earth and heaven! Alleluia!
Praise to thee by both be given; Alleluia!
Thee we greet triumphant now; Alleluia!
Hail, the Resurrection, thou! Alleluia!

Or simply exclaim: He is risen!

Joy in My Heart

"Remember that Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, was raised from the dead according to my gospel, for which I suffer trouble as an evildoer, even to the point of chains; but the word of God is not chained" (2 Timothy 2: 8-9).


I am up, awake, and ready for this night of work again; though it may be a small stage in life, the prospect that I am always on God's side (rather than the popular understanding that He is on another's side), for Him to mold my work at all times, is an abundant blessing. Paul wrote many letters and words which many Christians would encounter as well. The truth we believers must ground ourselves in is the truth that all the turbulence of the day is not something random; the troubles of this day have been ultimately caused by man's sins, and more obvious, man's pride--soon he will want to be called God.

Non-believers, if you so happen to be reading any of these words, I advise you to reconsider your own happiness, comforts, and affluence, by wondering what these things are based upon. You might say that they are based upon you, or possibly someone or something vaulable to you. You might base your life on love, but what kind of love? The love which reaches only so far as to the end of this life, easily trampled and quite finiky? Think about this: the Word of God is not chained. The limitlessness in that foundation produces love for all time here and in eternity, where time is of no consequence. May you come to the base where the moth will not destroy,
where rust will not ruin, and where there will be no thief to steal your treasure.

Scripture Passage of The Day: 1 Thessalonians 4:16-18

For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the
voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will
rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with
them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with
the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words (1 Thessalonians
4:16-18).

On the road under Heaven 

Some Words on Death and Most Emphatically on Life

Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth,
Before the difficult days come,
And when the years draw near when you say,
"I have no pleaure in them";
While the sun and the light,
The moon and the stars,
Are not darkened,
And the clouds do not return after the rain.
(Ecclesiastes 12:1,2)
Finished a phone call with my folks and grandparents in California, and talked with Grandma as she is still overcoming the natural time of sadness of having lost her mother, almost 86. I quoted Psalm 39:7 to her at the end of the call, and she gave a short sigh which sounded like a release of stress or a commission of power by hearing that verse. "My hope is in you," said the psalmist. Indeed, without that hope all that a man can wait for is death; it comes so stealthily, and yet so predictable and regular, precise and neat. That doesn't mean it came naturally, only that now it is natural. People like my great-grandmother who passed on, died in the flesh, are not forsaken to the grave. Despite the cynicism of this age, the various thoughts of man's so-called rebirths (e.g., the Renaissance and the Enlightenment) have no power over a child of God, who was at first from birth condemned to darkness and a death hole of Hell, but since saved by supernatural actions of Christ now is eternally bonded to his (as Bunyan illustrated in Pilgrim's Progress) summons of salvation, to his God.

Great-grandma is not lost, we didn't lose her; as with all person's transformed in this life, alive once in the flesh, who were able to kneel without pressure and confess Christ as God and Savior, they merely moved away from this old shack to a glorious mansion in Heaven. As Bob Dylan said in Sweetheart Like You, "Your Father has many, many mansions, all with a fireproof floor." Jesus to Martha, whose brother Lazarus died of a sickness, said in John 11: 25, 26, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe in Me?"

No caption can possibly do this picture justice. It's simply a classic. That's my brother for you, an '88 Buick. 

INSOMNIA at 3 AM: Words for God

"And now, Lord, what do I wait for?

My hope is in You" (Psalm 39: 7).

Some thoughts on the last three days are lingering around, behind my eyes, behind the dark lines under their sockets, lifting a silent voice of words of relentless wonder and expressions of enjoyment toward the mighty works of God. I feel less dependent on people, and more interested in what God will show me next. I have no interest in my readership, whether anyone reads this or not, I do not mind writing this, for I write not out of the pleasure for it only but for the Lord who hears and knows all. All the secret things are revealed in time. One day we'll all appear before the King, president's and kings alike will stand naked before Him, He who knows the answers to the questions before we will answer back. I write for Him.

I have worked three nights in a row (36 hours of work total), though that may be somewhat easy for others, I know that if I am yawning at 7 PM on the 3rd night the shift has took it toll. And I am persuaded that my sleeping habits are pretty much screwed up by now, but the motivation that I am preparing a living for myself, becoming more wise in the reality of what God said the Adam after he had eaten of that tree of knowledge of good and evil, that man now must toil labor to eat, to survive, and that "in the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground" (Genesis 3: 17, 19). Also, the satisfaction of going home while others must slave through traffic and the early morn to begin their day of toil is undeniably wonderful. At some point I know that, out of pure unadulterated spite, I'll open my sliding door on my Jeep at a red light and taunt some commuter in his Mercedez-Benz with fresh cappuccino froth still on his upper lip and sleep still in his eyes, which in turn he would most likely burn rubber, 0-60 mph in 4 seconds, which is when I would begin to pump the gas peddle so as to keep my engine from dying (I don't have fuel injection action, and still content). But that last motive is merely a perk--not the entire point, you see.

This is very unnerving to be up past 3 o'clock in the morning like an insomniac. Without work, in parts of the long duration when I yearn to be stretched out comfortably under layers of blankets and comforters, and after I've slept a good chunk of my day away when the shift is over and I've driven home, I'm at a loss for the desire to close my eyes. Work has yielded good material time and time again. For instance, on one of my breaks two nights ago, I went to the men's room with my safety glasses resting in my front shirt pocket and the next thing I know is that I witness for the first time in my entire life a pair of glasses falling (almost in slow motion it seemed) into the urinal. My face displayed a look of utter shock. Naturally, I reached in and grabbed the un-kosher spectacles and did as the Hebrews most certainly would had to do by Law if anyone had invented glasses at that time, I scrubbed those puppies with hot water and orange-scented hand soap until I heard them whimper.

I am consistently reminded of the accident last week when I sliced my hand, and when reaching for the First Aid box, fainted to the floor like a sack of cement, hitting my head on the cement floor. I'm called names like Lefty (since it was my left hand that was cut) and playfully and sarcastically asked by my supervisor, "So what was 'Nam like?" I think the bonding has increased proportionately better after all the machine operators and packers in the department had witnessed me knocked out cold on the cool ground. At least now I will spare myself of being puffed up, for it's hard to be proud when you have done what I have done. Vida es bueno.

Esta es la dia que El Dio creo,

Estoy celebro y contento en esta.

(Pardon any grammatical errors in my 1st year-ranking Spanish.)

Proverbs 24: 10

"If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small."

Going Home 

Ongoing Thoughts On Mark 14:32-50

"...The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak" (Mark 14:38).

I haven't made regular time for Bible study in the last week or so, becoming distracted by recreation, work, sleep, meals, television, and my own negligence. Thankfully, I've kept up in the Word, by the power of He who strengthens the weak and makes them strong, who was Gideon's confidance and is mine as well. While working for the past couple nights I have thought about the scene in Gethsemane whence Christ's body felt burdened, stressed, weary, where His disciples too became tired, but from sleepiness instead. The showdown between Creator and creation, the taming of Nature came into play here; the Lord dwealt in a flesh suit, as a man, and like the rest of of mankind, the body becomes tired, sleepy, stressed as Jesus felt before the time came for Him to be delivered unto the officials for His trial and execution. He told His disciples, "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch" (v. 34). The three disciples who He brought with Him into the garden, Peter, James, and John are the parallel to the point of I have read.

Jesus, giving all of His life up to the Father, gave up His rights; the other three set on watch did not have an awareness of the importance in this situation, for all they could feel and know at the time was that the Master brought them out to this garden to pray past bedtime. But the hour was close for the Son of Man to be betrayed. The foreshadowing of the cross and all of man's sins must have been a very great sight in our Savior's mind, so great that He, God of creation, became very sad! But the beautiful thing about this situation in Gethsemane is that Christ conquered and man failed, demonstrating that man is not invinsible, but mortal and in need of the salvation which Christ established the next day.

With a few index cards of Scripture written on them, while on break I take one out of my pocket or lunch box and take a moment to think about that particular passage. Mark 14:38 is another verse which sticks to my ribs, sticks to my mind; it is another reminder from God that I am weak and He is strong.

Cow in Pasture: The Saga 

PUYALLUP, Washington. Anyone got any road flares? 

On Saint Patrick

Christ be with me,

Christ within me,

Christ behind me,

Christ before me,

Christ beside me,

Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me.

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ in quiet,

Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
--St. Patrick's Breastplate

Patricius Magonus Sucatus had left an incredible story, though obscured by dressed up legends and traditions now held on today, the date of his death, the celebration of his life. He had come from an upper middle-class family, and then a nominal Christian, was taken captive by Irish raiders in the late 4th century. In Ireland Patrick was sold into slavery and put to work as a shepherd tending to flocks of sheep; interestingly, it was there on the popular location of Foclut, in eastern Ireland, that he became close to the Lord, building on the relationship with fervant prayer from morning to night. One can research Patrick's life on the Web in various sites, and in library's across the globe, but by the Lord's will I think it was meant to be that we should not know anymore about this Christian who ministered to the Irish after having fled to his homeland and returning by the directions God had sent him in dreams.

In two letters, one called Confessio, a letter to certain church leader in Rome who though Patrick to be some bumpkin who was not capable to be a minister of the Gospel, and the other one was a letter to a British officer called Coroticus. Even Patrick himself acknowledges that his Latin and his education is limited and says of himself in the first sentance in that letter that he is "a most simple countryman, the least of all the faithful and most contemptible to many" and "therefore for some time I have thought of writing, but I have hesitated until now, for truly, I feared to expose myself to the criticism of men, because I have not studied like others, who have assimilated both Law and the Holy Scriptures equally and have never changed their idiom since their infancy, but instead were always learning it increasingly, to perfection, while my idiom and language have been translated into a foreign tongue." But he was quite confidant in the Lord, knowing that the servant is not greater than his master, writing to the the bishops and deacons, reminding them that it is the Lord who he looked to not at his own works (the Italics are mine):

But had it been given to me as to others, in gratitude I should
not have kept silent, and if it should appear that I put myself before others,
with my ignorance and my slower speech, in truth, it is written: 'The tongue of
the stammerers shall speak rapidly and distinctly.' How much harder must we try
to attain it, we of whom it is said: 'You are an epistle of Christ in greeting
to the ends of the earth ... written on your hearts, not with ink but with the
Spirit of the living God.' And again, the Spirit witnessed that the rustic life
was created by the Most High.

I am, then, first of all, countryfied, an exile, evidently unlearned, one who is not able to see into the future, but I know for certain, that before I was humbled I was like a stone lying in deep mire, and he that is mighty came and in his mercy raised me up and, indeed, lifted me high up and placed me on top of the wall. And from there I ought to shout out in gratitude to the Lord for his great favours in this world and for
ever, that the mind of man cannot measure (The "Confessio" of Saint Patrick, www.robotwisdom.com/jaj/patrick.html#forty1).

Working Daze: Don't Shake Hands With A Razorblade Knife

I had quite an interesting shift last night. During the rotation, an older fellow from the Red Team told me as he was preparing to leave his post and hand it over to me, "Yeah, it's been a real hassle today... I'm always glad to see you guys come in." Certainly, after 12 hours one sure doesn't mind to see the next shift arrive. I always manage to pray before and during work, but especially before, that I will learn something new and continue to be willful on the job; having said that, I always do learn a thing or two, or more, and I fortunately feel willing to work. There's a slogan on one of the Milgard Windows T-shirts which says (pun intended all the way), "No Pane, No Gain".

So when I cut my hand with a razor blade knife, reached for a first aid kit a few moments later, and passed out from feeling light-headed (it wasn't because I saw my own stinkin' blood!), hitting my head on the concrete floor, with the blood on my left hand oozing out, there is something to be said about metal gloves and most emphatically the seriousness which the company makes of any injury (including my minor cut).

I was zoomed to the hospital, the 'zooming' being the sound of a co-worker's truck's muffler, and dropped off to fend for myself and the paperwork I had to sign before any treatment. The doctors down at the clinic are quite nice; they tell you to lay down and get comfortable on the job. That's the first and hopefully the last time. I was stitched up (with one fine, nylon stitch) and given a tetanus shot, the first one I've taken in probably ten years, rocked and rolled down the one, two, three hallways to take a CAT-Scan in that souped up machine of magic. One childhood recollection for this entry is: The last CAT-Scan I had was back in Kindergarten when a classmate jumped on my spleen and stretched it, unintentially of course; kindergarteners are unfamiliar with spleens and the human anatomy, at least we were back in the day.

So Migard is right, "No Pane, No Gain". And I've learnt that you should not do two things with a razorblade knife: 1.) You should not scrape from the bottom up. 2.) You should not shake hands with it.

The First and Last Guitar Shot 

Early Morning: A 6 AM shot of Mt. Rainier via my back yard. 

Words and Stories At The Rietzugs

"You therefore must endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. No one engaged in warfare entangles himself with the affairs of this life, that he may please him who enlisted him as a soldier" (2 Timothy 2:3-4).

I was at the RIETZUGS house--"The Church Across the Street"--this morning. Henry introduced a message by another pastor (whose message was delivered on CD) called "Can God Use Me?". The entire premise of it encouraged our discussions and open testimonies toward the response to the question; yes, God gives us purpose, the "where-with-all," to be connected to His Kingdom through Christ.

There were about 30 or 40 people there including the small children attending in the kitchen and front room as the adults and a couple infants gathered around in the living room as the morning unfolded. Throughout the official time of the meeting, I was eager to give some testimony, thinking of countless instances in the last couple weeks where I've seen the work of God bless and teach me and others (family, coworkers, friends) some truly amazing and wonderful things. But thankfully my tongue was kept bridled for the most part, aside from some prayer requests and hushed grunts of agreement during the church time. (Reminded by Steve Rogers in South Dakota that "church" means assembly, I can't forget it.) God uses our words in very special ways, that if I had tried to speak out as many times as I wanted I would probably have tarnished the purpose of exhortation and merely spoke on my own behalf. Praise Yahweh that I obeyed and listened instead of chattering on.

However, I did bring my guitar to the Rietzugs home, feeling compelled that morning around 9:00 to take the lyrics of a song I wrote last December inspired by Matthew 25 (the parable of the sheep and goats), called simple enough "Living Among Goats". It sounds quite light out of context, but it's not really about anything most want to hear. The point: It is a song for Christians who must be aware that, while they are the sheep who are on the right hand of God with the inheritance of eternal life, the unsaved souls living among the living are the goats who are on His left, receiving everlasting fire and separation from the Lord. I didn't make any mention of the song at all except when Anne met me at the front door with my guitar in hand. I had told her that I felt some inspiration to bring the lyrics with me (sort of winging it, if you will accept that expression). We took Communion in the last few minutes of the meeting and we all finished partaking of the bread and juice. (Funny, there is usually never any wine at all during most traditional Communion times, when it is wine that the Jews and Christ used in past and the Last Supper. But of course, it is the blood the Savior that is being represented, so the material is not crucial!)

Then, without missing a beat, Henry said to me from across the room, "Matthew, do you want to share your song with us?" I suppose his wife, Anne, told him about it. "It'll be a post-Communion song," he said. And then I went to fetch my guitar, and sat down on the piano stool and introduced the folks around me to the topic and some history behind the inspiration. It came to be because of the people I saw around me who are not saved, some family and friends out and about in the world and people I see meandering around me as I drive and walk down the roads and sidewalks of this world. Trouble is, many Christians do not feel obliged at all to exemplify Christ in truth and deed as they are content to look and sound religious, but the afterlife is very real, and the Judgment Day is very real. We're living among goats, my brothers and sisters; they're pretty close to us too. We must lead by our own example of faith and living that faith which is built on the God of all creation. We are not perfect, for if it wasn't for the mercy and plan of God, we could still be chained to sin and strife as this world is, therefore, we ought to not reflect that way of thinking. "We loved Him because He first loved us," says 1 John 4:19.

After the service, I talked to a few people. With Bob and Lydia, a married couple who I had met over a year ago through the services held at the Rietzugs' hosting of the "Church Across the Street," I learned that he is a pilot and goes overseas to the Middle East, and various other regions I dream about. I asked him how one might go about going the Israel or India (or any other country outside the cushiness of the U.S.A for that matter), being hypothetical but clearly speaking about myself without saying "How do I do this?". Of course I knew that I would need to have a passport or Visa to travel abroad but I looked for some outlet, such as a company or organization, that would provide a real purpose for being in a foreign place. Simply put, I wish to minister to people. And so, talking with Bob, whose job demands that he leave this country, I learned what I had already really knew, that if God wants a man to go abroad for the gospel then He will have that man go regardless of that man's feelings of wanting to or not wanting to go.

I had some good encounters today, by another gift brought to me by my Father, all things work out for good. Now, what's for supper? Steak? Yeah, I can grill. You know it.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths" (Proverbs 3:5-6).