Broken Windows & Spinning Wheels!

I have a broken window in the master bedroom and I am currently spinning my wheels.

· The first solution was to buy the glass locally and reinsert it into the frame, but it’s not made locally.

· The second solution was to buy a window and take the class out of it to repair my own, except we couldn’t get a window that was an exact fit.

· The third solution was to special order the glass for that kind of window until we found out that it was no longer made.

As I write this, I am trying to get the whole window snatched out of the wall and a new one replaced. All under a cheap skates budget. Me being the cheap skate.

It certainly seems as if I am spinning my wheels. Lots of smoke and noise being generated, but the broken window has not been replaced.

Life is a lot like that—especially here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. For so many, the answers and solutions to physical problems like housing and insurance aren’t coming easy, if they come at all.

I wonder how many of us are presently spinning our wheels faith-wise. We do the right things—we generate all the appropriate noise and smoke of movement and accomplishment, but in our heart of hearts we are withering on the vine. Stagnant faith or faith based on activity alone has left us spinning our wheels.

And it’s not glass that gets broken—instead, it’s the heart of God.

As you go through the rest of this week and prepare to be together with the Family on the Lord’s Day, ask yourself this all important question: How is my walk with God?

May God grant us all more faith and a better walk!

Les, Jr.

PS–Thanks to John Dunn, my broken window is fixed–let the VA mortgage inspector return! We close on the sale of our house this coming Tuesday! When do we get to purchase the new one? We’ll let you know when we know!

Broken Windows & Spinning Wheels!

I have a broken window in the master bedroom and I am currently spinning my wheels.

· The first solution was to buy the glass locally and reinsert it into the frame, but it’s not made locally.

· The second solution was to buy a window and take the class out of it to repair my own, except we couldn’t get a window that was an exact fit.

· The third solution was to special order the glass for that kind of window until we found out that it was no longer made.

As I write this, I am trying to get the whole window snatched out of the wall and a new one replaced. All under a cheap skates budget. Me being the cheap skate.

It certainly seems as if I am spinning my wheels. Lots of smoke and noise being generated, but the broken window has not been replaced.

Life is a lot like that—especially here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. For so many, the answers and solutions to physical problems like housing and insurance aren’t coming easy, if they come at all.

I wonder how many of us are presently spinning our wheels faith-wise. We do the right things—we generate all the appropriate noise and smoke of movement and accomplishment, but in our heart of hearts we are withering on the vine. Stagnant faith or faith based on activity alone has left us spinning our wheels.

And it’s not glass that gets broken—instead, it’s the heart of God.

As you go through the rest of this week and prepare to be together with the Family on the Lord’s Day, ask yourself this all important question: How is my walk with God?

May God grant us all more faith and a better walk!

Les, Jr.

PS–Thanks to John Dunn, my broken window is fixed–let the VA mortgage inspector return! We close on the sale of our house this coming Tuesday! When do we get to purchase the new one? We’ll let you know when we know!

Show Me The Way!

Show Me The Way

(Dennis DeYoung)

Every night I say a prayer
In the hope that there’s a heaven…

I vacillate in the type of music I listen to. Some days it’s more about good classic rock. The kind of music I grew up with. The kind that has been belted out of my lungs from the first day I ever got behind the wheel. I love rock and roll. Put another dime in the jukebox baby.

Some folks might read this and laugh at the idea of a dime jukebox. Others are probably looking at this and trying to remember if they have ever seen an old jukebox in an old movie.

Isn’t that a hoot?

But I digress.

My other favorite is contemporary Christian—preferably the hard charging kind that is reminiscent of secular rock—but with lyrics that reflect Christian values and/or praise God.

And from day to day and sometimes within the same day, I go from one to the other.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I connected with an old rock song from a group that is still around in one form or another—a song with a decidedly spiritual touch. A plea even to see and know and understand that there is something out there that is better than the values of this world…

Enter Dennis DeYoung and Styx.

Show me the way.

Indeed.

I don’t know how I missed the import of the lyrics for all of these twenty-seven plus years that I have been singing along to this song. But I did, that is, until last week.

Show me the way. That might very well be the anthem cry of generations of young people, middle aged people, and old people.

Show me the way.

Politicians fail us.

Sports figures fail us. (Did Kenny Rogers really have pine tar on his hand?)

Teachers and principals and business leaders and religious leaders fail us.

Even our own flesh and blood can fail us in grievous ways.

Is it any wonder then that the world—at least those who are not so far gone in self-absorption—is looking for something better? And in particular, someone to show them the way?

That’s where you and I come in.

Christians.

Beacons of light.

The people who can show the way, if we only will.

Matthew 5:14-16, (NIV) You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.

Show me the way, show me the way
Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away
Show me the way, show me the way
Give me the strength and the courage
To believe that I’ll get there someday
Show me the way

Every night I say a prayer
In the hope that there’s a heaven…

Blessings,

Les, Jr.

Holy of Holies

When I preach, I consider it the greatest of privileges. The ability, the opportunity to stand before God’s people and share a Word from the Lord is both thrilling and terrifying. It’s exciting to be able to communicate in some way the truth of God. It’s scary because it is an awesome responsibility that one has to take so very seriously.

I wonder what it must have been like for the Old Testament High Priest–to enter the Holy of Holies, to stand in the Most Holy Place before and in the presence of God. As much as preachers sometimes feel inadequate to the task at hand, I cannot imagine the anxiety that must have been there.

Fortunately, we no longer have to worry about that.

Hebrews 10:19-25, (NIV) Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

That’s why worship is so important. In worship, we enter the presence of God. An audience of One awaits our praise.

Take a look at the lyrics of the song Take Me In

Take me past the outer courts

Into the Holy Place

Past the brazen altar

Lord I want to see your face

Pass me by the crowds of people

And the Priests who sing your praise

I hunger and thirst for your righteousness

But it's only found in one place

Chorus:

Take me into the holy of holies

Take me in by the blood of the lamb

Take me into the holy of holies

Take the coal, touch my lips, here I am

Let’s enter the presence of God everyday. 

Let’s eagerly await the opportunities to do so as family.

Let’s hunger and thirst—together—for that which only God can give.

Les Ferguson, Jr.  Gulfport, MS

Another Great Song By Jeremy Camp

My favorite Contemporary Christian Song–Check it out!

The Latest Bulletin Fodder

The following is my latest bulletin article…

The Squinty-Eyed Preacher

As I write this, I do so with a very pronounced and goofy looking squint. I have had eye problems before, but they were just about getting my prescription glasses situated correctly.

This is a whole new ballgame.

Monday I began to have a burning sensation in my right eye. No more so than what comes with a case of hay fever or some other type of allergy that has come and gone over the years.

A watery eye and a runny nose–typical for this time of year.

Tuesday night was miserable and I took some Benadryl and went to bed. Wednesday morning everything changed. I could no longer focus on anything-everything was blurry and hazy. I couldn’t read anything without closing the bad eye tight. So off to the doc I went. He took a look and sent me to an eye surgeon. It seems I had a piece of metal embedded in my right eye. How it got there or when it got there, I have absolutely no idea.

The good doctor was proficient and within a short space of time he had me in a room and was using a syringe-needle and all-to lift up and out the small metal fragment in my eye.

The rest of the day was agonizing. I could only see through a hazy fog. The abrasions on the eye itself burnt like crazy. But today is some what better. Hardly any eye pain per se and I can see, although not clearly enough to read signs, books, or even this computer screen as I compose these thoughts. (If someone would just take this pounding headache away…!)

Hence the squinty-eyed preacher.

With one eye closed-the bad one-I can see.

I have a new found appreciation of my vision. I am terrified of this eye not getting better because I now know without a doubt-intellectually and emotionally-how important my vision is.

There are a couple of passages dealing with vision and eyesight that come to mind.

The first…

Matthew 7:3-5, "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

How I use that kind of vision my have a direct implication on the kind of view found in this passage…

Revelation 22:1-5, Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever.

What do you want to see? I want to see the Face of God!

May God bless us with true spiritual vision!

Les, Jr.

Doors and Sunday School

A number of years ago in a location different than my own, the suggestion was made in a "Men’s Business Meeting" that we have a monthly Sunday fellowship meal followed by a devotional and be dismissed for the rest of the day.

The discussion that ensued was lively and emotional. Finally after what seemed like an awfully long time, the big gun was brought out to squash both discussion and the topic at hand.

 In the interests of fairness, I won’t use the actual name used in dissent, but the argument went something like this:

That’s the kind of thing certain denominational churches like to do. And we can’t do anything that makes us look like them.

Unfortunately, at the time, I lacked even more tact and discretion than I currently possess. I suspect as well that my retort probably wasn’t spoken with a lot of love and compassion and respect.

At any rate, my quick response went something like this:

Yes and those same unnamed denominational churches also have Sunday schools and come in through the front door. Are we going to quit doing that too?

I wish I could tell you that my argument was met with success. The fact of the matter is that by my swift rejoinder, the battle was most likely lost immediately.

Be that as it may, our tribal history is replete with reactionary statements and responses that sometimes were not well thought out.

For instance, I grew up with the understanding that because the same afore-unmentioned denominational church liked to use the term witness in its evangelistic vocabulary, we were constrained to leave it alone.

To be fair, we also framed that constraint in a theological frame work based on Acts 1. Two passages are of importance.

First, the words of Jesus: Acts 1:7-8 says, “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

And second, the choosing of Matthias as a replacement Apostle: Acts 1:21-22 says, Therefore it is necessary to choose one of the men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us. For one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.”

What was taken from those passages was the idea that because we were not physically present at that time, we could not call ourselves witnesses to the Resurrected Lord.

Again, to be fair, there is a part of me that understands the reasoning behind such a prohibition. In the strictest sense of the word, I did not see the empty tomb. None of us alive today did either.

The tomb has now been empty for over 2000 years. And I wonder if we have not yet again been guilty of reactionary behavior.

There is, you see, more than one kind of witness: eye-witness, hostile witness, or expert witness to name a few.

Theologically speaking, I suppose we could quite easily characterize ourselves as one of two kinds of witnesses in the world:

A hostile witness or one whom is hostile to the character of God and His care and guidance in their lives.

or

An expert witness or one who by virtue of the influence of the Risen Lord qualifies as one with expert testimony at the work of God.

I don’t much care whether you use the term witness or not. The truth is that’s not the real battle that must be fought.

The real conflict is personal. It’s about me. It’s about you. It may very well have consequences in how we treat each other—especially in light of some of the reactionary and divisionary attitudes and behaviors we might sometimes display.

What kind of witness are we?

Do we live and talk and work and play and love as if we were hostile to the work of God?

Or, do we conduct our affairs through the prism of light and love that exists because of and through the Resurrected One?

Truthfully, I am a witness.

The question that remains: What kind will I be?

Les, Jr.