What Can Be Said 003

It seems a fairly well known fact in the circle of Christianity that God has a particular way of doing things. As well as a reason for doing things the way He does. If you were to read anywhere in Exodus chapter 35 through the end of that book, God teaches Israel how to worship. Even into Leviticus, (which take over where Exodus leaves off) you would find that the God of Israel who lead the captives into the wilderness and set up the Ark of Testimony, who gave the people very explicit step by step directions, does still require that His children follow the directions put down in His Holy Word.

Well,we had finally gotten settled in the cabin, we were reaching the point where we all had our duties and responsibilities, we were all pulling our share of the load. Mom had gotten a part time job to help with those things that… well just can’t be hunted, milked, or gardened. The essentials that nature just couldn’t supply in this day and age. Thing like cleaners, ammunition and the ever popular out-house tissue.

We had met a family while still living in the old farm house, turns out after we had moved into the new place, the other family moved as well. Now only being about three miles away we began visiting each other again. Thinking back; makes me smile when I remember getting up each morning and starting the wood cook stove and preparing to make fresh bread, enough for the day’s meals. Somehow the father of that family always knew when the first loaves were coming out of the oven, just like clock work, there would be a knock at the door and sure enough there he was! “Is the bread still hot”? He would say excitedly.

Not realizing it this same man and his family were also being directed of God. One weekend they had invited us to go and visit the little church where they were attending at the time. While unbeknownst to me dad and mom seemed to be having some challenges in their marriage.

Praise be to the Lord above, little time had passed before He began softening our hearts and giving us the understanding of all that His Son has done for us. My mother was the first to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as her Savior. That little crossroads church seated less that fifty people but when the Spirit of God visited, those old hymns just seemed to come alive.

It seems my memories fail me when I try to remember how many or if any others of my family received Salvation in that little church. I remember my mother and I remember the day I walked down that short little isle. Like so many other, including dear brother Dan, (shining the truth) when that old faithful, ”Just As I Am” got about half way through the first verse, I believe my feet were three steps ahead of the rest of my body. There was no prompting there, I was ushered. And quickly! When you are called upon by God Almighty you do not hesitate.

Note: There are things and events that God helped to put in the past. Through forgiveness and through grace, some details need to remain just that, in the past.

From the moment God's Redemption entered my mom, things began to change at home. As she began to read her bible and with the help of the Spirit of God she began to understand that things needed to change at home. The more she tried to correct the way things were, the more my mother and fathers challenges increased. Wasn’t long before Dad decided they could no longer live together. He moved into the city some thirty miles from home. From that point on things began to get difficult. But still God was in charge. Continued…

What Can Be Said 002

In 1978, Massachusetts was already becoming a very taxable state. My father had spoke often of wanting to purchase a small farm or ranch. That being the way his father had raised him; I guess he wanted to pass that on to his own children. To learn how to be less dependant on the government and the worlds ways of doing things was important to my parents. I doubt he ever realized it, but God was starting us on a journey and a walk of life that would change our lives forever, and the Spirit of God would continue His teaching as the years continued to pass. My father in his earthly nature was being directed by God in His Devine nature.

So with things being what they were my folks decided to move to Maine. It was said that the State of Maine was still ten years behind the rest of the country, the growth of that state was still gentle, slow to grow, slow to populate. There was still good land and forest that had been untouched, unspoiled by the hands of man. Upon arriving we rented an old farm house and moved in to stay the winter and wait out the snow.

After a long cold winter my folks began looking for their “utopia“. After what I remember as being several months they found what they were looking for. It was a large parcel of land which was half fields and half wood. The parcel was close to a mile from the nearest town-maintained road, only drivable under the best of weather and certainly not in the spring or winter. We spent the spring in a old rusted out mobile home that we had pulled up the road, or at least as far as it could be pulled up what could be considered, hardly more than a cow path.

We began clearing and digging holes for the post of what would end up an octagon shaped log cabin. Dad in his “wisdom” chose a sight that over looked a large section of the front boarder and ran along the only road up there. The only problem with that was the house would be built into a rock hill. You can imagine how challenging that particular task was. Once the first level floor was built we moved under the floor, hung plastic from the sides and there we stayed untill the roof was finished.

My brother Dan recently reminded me of an incident that happened while we were still living under the house. We were having a particularly rainy week which slowed working on the house down to nearly a stand-still. We had to lay more plastic on the top side of the floor because the water was leaking through and onto everything we owned. That one particular night somehow more water was leaking through; we hung even more plastic from what would be our ceiling, or the bottom side of the floor. While we were all scrambling for a dryer spot to sleep in, the plastic had gathered up quite a large amount of water. It seemed that most of us had finally fallen to sleep. When like a cry from the wild, my dad screamed and stood straight up on my folk’s bed! It seems that there was not only a large amount of water hanging over my parents’ bed but it turned out it was extremely cold as well! I still remember him standing there in his one piece, pair of long underwear, teeth clinched together, saying, "DON'T TOUCH ME" to my mom as she tried to help him. I'm glad for the reminder.

As the house walls grew we were face with another difficult task, we had to find water. The first whole we dug out by shovel and bucket ended up becoming the out-house. Six feet down, four feet wide and not a drop of moister was to be found. Then we chose another sight to start digging, this one had more rock in it than dirt. This hole we dubbed, “the dry hole” and became a place for the old make-shift washer’s water to be drained into.

We had at some point came across and old burnt out foundation, at some point in history there had been another family living on the same piece of land. We reasoned that they had to have had access to water being so far from any town. Once we found the old surface well we realized that someone had filled it at some later point. We found things in there that we never expected to find in a well. Even an old double headed ax head and a broken handle. Once we got it all cleaned out the water began flowing into the old well once again. When the water finally filtered itself clean we could begin drinking it. However, we still had to get it to the house. It wasn’t difficult to figure out how we would get it there, what was difficult was lugging five gallon water buckets through tall grass and over a distant of near a hundred feet away. Wasn’t all too difficult after we got used to it, we got stronger and there was my dad my older brother and myself to take turns. Unless mom was doing laundry that day for the six of us!

So to catch up, we were living in a log house stuffed with moss to fill in the cracks between the logs, hauled water from a surface well which was too far away, we used kerosene lamps to see by at night, cut our own fire wood to cook with and heat the house when it was cold and walked nearly a mile to catch the school bus. Still you know, whith all that and probably more that I have forgotten about, I still loved every moment that we lived there.

And more than all that! God would soon pay us a visit… continued

What Can Be Said 001

The phrase, “what can be said” is a general topic concerning all that God prompts me to write about. I felt “prompted” to begin by putting down in words how God worked in my life both as a new Christian and through out the last twenty seven years of my salvation.
My name is Paul, (my wife calls me Paulie) I’m 42 years of age and reside in Hernando Florida. I have been here for the better part of 20 years in the same County now. Aside from a couple years now and then to visit other states. Prier to that time I lived in the State of Maine.

At the rebellious age of 15, my Mother made the very wise decision to take her 4 children to Florida to visit and stay with her Parents. It was September, the year was 1980. We all crowded onto a Gray Hound bus heading south. Once we got to the sunny State of Florida we tried our best to get comfortable and start life over again. My younger brother and sister were enrolled in the local school system, while my Mother and I began looking for jobs in this then still small town. The town itself was small but the main road was already a very busy place. We at various times would walk the mile or so downtown to seek employment.

I remember walking into the only fast food place in town then, (McDonalds) and filling out an application. I was hired that same day. I worked one day and got a call from the local Pizza Hut. I remember it so well because it was my 16th birthday and we were having cake at the time they called.

October 1st 1980, As soon as I got there I was asked a couple simple questions and started me out washing dishes that very same day. Very little time had passed when they trained me to make pizza. One week turned into two and two quickly into three, I would often go in early to help open up and get things ready for the lunch crowd, even when it wasn’t my days to work. Even when I didn’t get paid for it.

It’s was November 5th now, and there was my schedule, I got up, jumped in the shower, sat and watched The Love Boat, (though I’m still not sure why) then headed down the road to help out and to get free lunch to-boot. I think I had eaten more pizza in that month than I have in the twenty six years since.

Thinking back, there was never any sense of impending danger, or even the feeling that I shouldn’t go out that day. That particular day started out just the same as any other day in the last month.

I remember as I walk along the roadside stopping to pull the sandspurs off my pant cuffs, or perhaps I had done it so often I just imagined that I had remembered doing it. The same can be said about the memory of needing to cross the road before entering the busy intersection. I had done it so often I really don’t remember if I did that day. All I remember was that I had a destination.

I became aware that I never made it to work that day, though more than two weeks had passed since I started out. During those two weeks there had been a great battle going on. And from where I was laying it seemed the majority of that time had been a losing battle. When my eyes did open and I realized that I didn’t recognize my surroundings. I began to panic. When I tried to lift my head, it was met with searing pain. When I realized I couldn’t move my legs I thought someone had tied me down. I obviously wasn’t thinking very clearly. It was but a few moments before I passed out again. The next time I awoke I found my mothers gentle face there beside me…. continued

Little Do Nothings

If God is for us who can be against us… I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me… One God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all…

Do you really know who God is? There in the depths of God, fathom upon fathoms just when you think…

Is it ever enough? We as creations, can we ever say to the Creator, “I know enough?” Can the clay ever say to the Potter, “Ah, that’s good enough?”

If the blind are lead by a stick with a red tip on it, who leads the deaf?

If the moon rises in the east, and you’re facing north, where is the Son?

Why did the Chicken cross the road? To show the rest of us how to be obedient.

I thank God for giving us a sense of humor. There are times when humor is welcomed and there are times to be serious. I used what (humorous in itself) my spell check called fragmented sentences. Really what they are is little do nothings. I got that saying from my wife one day when we were at a local Chinese restaurant. You know those little crisp, fried noodle looking things that they put on your table while your waiting for your food to come? My wife calls them “do nothings” while she’s nibbling on them the whole time we are waiting for our food to be served.
The truth is, there only “do nothings” if you do nothing with them. If they are just cute or worthy of a small chuckle and they don’t spark us to look into our own lives then they really do, do nothing.