Labor Day.  For some, it’s every day that the sun comes up.  For all of us, it’s those trying moments in a day that require a visit to our personal resource bank to withdraw some love, some patience, some kindness, some mercy, some perseverance, some strength to go on.  Many of us are bankrupt and overdrawn, paying penalties and late fees in the form of worry, anxiety and anguish. Or worse yet, our accounts have been closed.

It’s said by some, to encourage us in the midst of our difficult moments, that we are “a work in progress”; but those here at the meeting today would say that our pockets are empty.  .  . and that we are helpless and without strength.  .  . and have need of Higher Power to share His Riches with us.

I did a little homework on the subject of Labor Day and discovered this.  “Peter J. McGuire, a carpenter and labor union leader, was the person who came up with the idea for Labor Day.  He thought American Workers should be honored with their own day.  The very first Labor Day Celebration was held on Tuesday, September 5, 1882 in New York City and then changed to the first Monday in September.”  If the author of this article had researched a little deeper into the archives of history, he would have discovered a Labor Day dated earlier than 1882.  Much, much earlier.  (As I said that, I looked up to see those big, sheepish grins on the faces of all the recovering humans at the meeting today.)

Labor is an action word.  “Just like Love,” the little Glowworm shouted out from the      back of the room.  (She is one of my favorites. My heart lights up when she speaks)   Webster defines labor as this: “To exert one’s powers of body and mind with painful or strenuous effort;  to work;  human activity that produces the goods or provides the services in demand in an economy.  .  . ( I have to pause here to take a breath and rest for a moment) .   .   . to strive to effect or achieve;  to do or make;  to accomplish;  to bring forth;  be busy;  be industrious;  be creative.”  The little lambs are already tired from just listening to me, so they all just walked out together to find a greener pasture to rest in, where they always hear their Good Shepherd say:

           “Come to Me, all of you who labor and are heavy-hearted and overburdened and I will cause you to rest.  I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls.  Take My Yoke (Myself and all that I AM) upon you and learn of Me and take your eyes off of yourself.  I am as gentle as a Lamb.  .  . and humble in heart.  .  .I promise that  you will find rest, relief and refreshment and recreation and Blessed quiet for your souls.  My Yoke (My Son and My Spirit) are wholesome, gracious and pleasant.  All is My burden, all labor is Mine.  Rest and peace are yours.  .  .be still little lamb and know that I AM God.”  Matthew 11:28-30

There was an earlier Labor Day.  It was when time began.  .  .”and God said, ‘Let there be light and there was light.  And God said, ‘Let Us make man in our image, in the image of God He created him.”  God was at work, exerting His Power, making a man  and woman and a paradise to live in.  The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit working together in Unison (“Let Us Make…”) to accomplish, to bring forth life in every form;  Creating in the moment.   But even the little ewes of the flock know that there was a labor day that was celebrated even before creation.  It was the very first Labor Day.

Before creation and time, was Eternity.  It was an Infinitely long day.  It was a never-beginning and never-ending day.  It was timeless day.  Only the Divine Union of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit existed then.  .  .and They were continuously in Labor.  .  .a Labor of Love.  “Yes I have loved thee with an Eternal Love:  therefore with Loving-kindness have I drawn you to Me.  I will build you up again.  .  .and YOU WILL BE REBUILT,  LITTLE LAMBS OF MY FLOCK, WHOSE FLEECE IS WHITE AS SNOW.”

Within the Eternal Womb of the Father’s mind and will were every one of His children,  in union with His Love even then.  .  .a Love that Designed and Authored everything that would come forth in time in their lives.  “He Works all things after the Counsel and Pleasure of His own will.”  His Love to the sheep had predestined and guaranteed that all things would work together for their good.

Within the Heart of the Son, Jesus Christ, were all of His brothers and sisters already in union with His Love and for whom He would Live perfectly,  Die for their sins, Becoming  the “Responsible One” for them is His death.  And then becoming the “Laboring One” for them as they journey through this world. “For me to Live is Christ Laboring for me.  .  .It is no longer I who live, but Christ Who Lives in Me.“ 

Within the Mind of the Holy Spirit were all of the elect children, Chosen by the Father, Loved to death by the Son, and Known forever by Him Who would bring Eternal Life to the soul of every person Chosen by the Father and Given to the Son.  Little lambs who lost their way, in union with The Spirit of Christ, who finds them and Labors to make them children of God. “You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you.  .  .all that the Father has given to me, will come to me.“  From the Eternal Womb of the Father,  through the Life and Death of the Son, by the Creating Power of the Holy Spirit.   .   .and all for the Eternally Loved sheep of the flock.

     “Let Us Make.”  The First Labor Union.   A Labor Day Gift of Love! 

                          Freely Given.    Freely Received.     Free, Love.

 

 

 

 

 

I have to make a confession today.  I’m into church signs.  I am addicted to them.  I just heard some snickering and laughing that came from the back of the room.  The Dumbo sheep and the firemen sit back there.  They love church signs too.  The messages make them laugh.  I know.  It sounds disrespectful and irreverent;  but please don’t be too hard on them.  Laughing is vital when you’re in recovery.  Whenever newbie sheep attend our meetings for the first time, we make them come up to the front and share a church sign they’ve seen recently.  In fact it’s an unspoken rule in our fellowship that you laugh yourself to sleep at least once a week, reading the samples of church signs published in our manual.  It’s very therapeutic.  I just happened to drive by a sign on my way to this Humans Anonymous meeting today.  I want to tell you what it said, but I’m already losing it as the words begin to make their way out of my mouth.  Smilingly they come.  “The two most important days of your life are the day you were born, and the day you find out why.”

I heard a gasp from the newbies.  The sheer power of the words took their breath away.  So deep.  So profound.  But just too much for simple, recovering minds to understand.  I repeated the words, “The day you were born.  .  .and the day you find out why.”  And then the laughing started.  It was contagious.  Even the long-timers couldn’t control themselves.  There were sheep rolling on the floor, laughing so hard they were crying.  It reminded me of my pot smoking days.  Laughing uncontrollably until your stomach would hurt.  It’s like a fire that has to burn itself out.  So I waited. When it seemed like they were all done and the room got quiet, one of the jack asses started laughing and everyone started up again.  I know you can relate.  The whole experience seems to free up the soul, for a while.   Finally one of the old-timers stood up and restored some order to the meeting.  When I had their attention again, I asked them a question.  “What Are the two most important days of YOUR life?”  And there was silence.  And there was a spirit of sobriety.  And I saw only serious faces.  And then the tears came.

One by one they spoke.  “I used to think it was the day I was born, until that day arrived when I wished I had never been born”.  .  .  “It was the day I got married;  but resulted in the worst day of my life when I lost everything that had value”.  .  .   “It was the day my daughter was born and as life went on, the day arrived when I realized what a failure as a father I was”.  .  .  It was the day I thought I had found out why, the day when I thought I had everything , the day when I was happy, the day I thought I had discovered why I was born, only to experience the disappointment of discovering later that I was wrong.  .  .and then I didn’t know why.  .  . and despaired of ever finding out.”  Everyone shared their answers.  However, I have left out something each one said after their statements.  It was a single, three letter word.  A word that is a game changer.   .   .BUT!

      “But we know and are assured that God, being a Partner in their labor, all things work together and are fitting into a plan for Good, to and for those who Love God and who are the called, according to His Purpose.”

 

“But as for you, you thought evil against me, but God meant it for Good.”

 

“Be not afraid nor dismayed by reason of the overwhelming distress in your heart.  For the battle is not yours, but God’s.”

 

“But You, O Lord are a God full of Compassion, Grace and Patience  .  .and  Love overflowing with Mercy and Kindness and Forgiveness and Truth.”

 

The two most important days of your life.  The day you were born and the day you find out why.  Words from Mark Twain.    There are so many days that are significant and personal for each one of us. But, the sheep know that the most important days of their life are the days when their hearts were made free from guilt and shame and condemnation.  When their soul is bound in misery, while their conscience reads off the list of their sins and failures, and they stand before the Judge, full of despair, waiting for the guilty verdict. . .and from His lips they hear, “But God.”  Then and only then do they find out why they were born.

  “But God demonstrated His Love for us in this.   .   .while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the sheep.”  All of those in attendance today at the meeting know very personally, this Great Love.  .  .given to them at the very end of their death sentence.  There was that “But once I was lost and now I’m found.  Was blind, but now I see.”  Whenever they are full of shame and guilt, and loneliness and hopeless feelings bring them near death, they hear the words “But God” and like dead Lazarus, they come forth from the grave to a New Day, a New Birth.  .  . the Day of God’s Power from the Womb of the Morning, with the Son of God Beaming into their hearts, chasing away the darkness like the Morning Sun.

Today is my daughter Rachel’s birthday.  One of the most important days of my life.  She is a precious ewe.  A princess of the King.                                              Happy Birth Day, Rachy!

 

 

 

      It was a late Spring day in 1961, sometime in the afternoon.  I was in eighth grade.  My desk was right next to the window, so I had a clear view of the school yard and parking lot.  This particular day was a holiday for the public school students; but not for those who attended a Catholic school.  I don’t remember what Sister Bernadine was teaching that afternoon; but I do remember being jolted out of my daydreaming by the shout of the girl next to me, “They’re stealing the bikes.”

     There were five or six kids who were taking bikes from the bike racks and taking off.  In those days, we didn’t have to lock them up for fear of being stolen.  That all changed that day.  Sister Bernadine saw what was going on and immediately shouted out the order, “Go get them” and a bunch of students ran outside and gave chase.  I wasn’t one of them.  I was basically frozen in fear and sat there watching it all happen.

     “Michael, run down to the principal’s office and let her know what happened so she can call the police.”  Her words startled me out of my condition and I ran through two buildings to the principal’s office.  I remember convincing myself  that I was on an errand as noble as running after the bike thieves.  I know.  It wasn’t.  I spent the rest of the school year dealing with ridicule I received from  some of the other students.  “Chicken. . .wimp”, and a few others that I can’ t repeat.  I brought it on myself.  I caused it.  I paid the price, the effect of my behavior.  My first scarlet letter. Funny. . . I can smell the fragrance of lilies right now.

     “Blessed is the man whom You have chosen and have caused to approach you. . .”  When the newbie sheep heard me say the word, “You”, meaning God, they began to sing that old Joe Cocker song again.

     “You are so beautiful, to  me. . .You’re everything I hoped for, you’re everything I need. . .”  They are such romantics.  He is their one, true Love.  They are madly in love with him.  After all, He did heal their madness.  There are a few here at the meeting today who are touched by the song.  The tears are flowing.  Tears of Joy.

     In the original Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the word ‘chosen’ means, “to select from among the whole group;  to make a choice;  to appoint to the position of a son or daughter;  to join to;   to form a union with;  to wed.”  I can sense that some of the first-timers to the meeting are getting a little turned-off with the religious sound of the bible verse and the words.  My Lily knows the feeling.  Religion had brought a sour taste to her  mouth too.  I mean no disrespect by this, but that’s always a good sign.

     “Blessed is the man you have caused to approach you.”  The word ’caused’ means, “cause to come near;  cause to approach;  to produce the desired action and the effect;  bring to Life.”  The most simple illustration that helps define the word is the story of Lazarus.  He was dead, in the tomb for four days.  Jesus approached the tomb and said. “Lazarus, come forth.”  Upon hearing Jesus’ words (for the dead can hear Him when He speaks), Lazarus rose from his grave and approached Jesus.  The willingness to rise, the power to come forth. . .all was the effect of the Cause.  The Divine Cause.

     There are dozens of short stories already written in my heart, all chapters in my autobiography called,  “The Chicken Who Would be an Eagle.”  Yep.  There they go again.  I knew as soon as it sounded negative, a few of the newbies would be in my face. “Why are you so down on yourself all the time?”  But before they had a chance to say anything more, my Lily jumped in to say, “You’ll all see one day, when you hear Him speak to your heart, the Divine Word,  ‘BUT’.

     “I’ll give you an example,” she said.  “I am the Vine, you are the branches. In union with Me, you bring forth fruit. BUT apart from Me, on your own, you can do nothing.  It’s a different kind of positive thinking.  It’s being certain about the two alphabets.  Or, “BUT when I am weak, only then am I strong.” The others at the meeting are smiling and nodding their heads in approval.  It’s this kind of honesty that draws them to each other. They love that they can be real. . .say what’s on their minds. . .be listened to and understood. . .with little or no need of cross-talk.  They all know Who’s the only one with answers.  The Only One to fix them. Frankly, the only One they’ll listen to.

     “. . .That they may dwell in Your courts:  we shall be satisfied with the Goodness of Thy house.”  My Lily is still up at the  speaker’s podium.  “I know it sounds very religious. Ugh!  That taste in your mouth is because of the ingredient that man has added to the Truths concerning God and His ways.  Man has poisoned  the well by simply sticking his hand into it.  Arsenic . .  from the root word, arse.  From the root word, ass.  In the Old Testament, God compares man and his ways to the ways of the colt of a wild ass. . . which some say is the most stupid animal alive.”  Lily and others from the valley are such a wonder.  Filling the air with the fragrance of  the knowledge of God and His ways. 

      We may be weak.  We may be tired and weary.  We may be fearful and anxious.  We may have caused every difficult moment in our lives BUT,  “We shall be satisfied.”  The Hebrew meaning for satisfied is, “filled to satisfaction;  filled with God;  be full and overflowing; to be nothing yet possess everything;  to have plenty.”   Plenty of Goodness.   Plenty of God’s Beauty.  Filled with the Fruit of His Golden Tree.  Love, Joy, Peace, Patience,  Kindness, Strength, Wisdom, Faith, Self-control.

     He is the first Cause.  The sheep of His flock are the effect of His own will and work.   And one thing that they all have in common are the troubles they’ve seen. . .that they all seemed to have caused.  Each one shares the tomb with Lazarus.  Dead in their fears, dead in  their anxieties, dead in their addictions, dead in their depression, dead in their guilt and self-condemnation, dead in their ignornance of how dead they are.  BUT. . .”Blessed is the man You have chosen and caused to approach You.”  Come forth out of your tomb, into the Light. . .into the Sonshine of a new day.  Welcome first-timers.  Welcome little Dumbo.   Welcome soaring eagle.  My name is Mike. . .and I’m a recovering colt of a wild ass.

     It was a week before the graduation party.  I was dreading it. Dreading was a way of life for me then. The Dumbo sheep are nodding their heads.  I was thinking of every excuse  I could imagine to get out of going.  The days were passing too quickly.  Maybe I’ll get sick and have to go to the hospital.  It was sheer torture for me.  Then Saturday came and there was no way of getting out of it.  We were in the car on the way and my only hope was getting into an accident.  (I’m serious).  My heart was pounding.  My head was throbbing.  How was I  going to be able to face all of those people?

     “It is the Lord who goes before you.  He has already entered every future moment.  He will march with you.  He will not fail you, or let you go, or abandon you.”

Little Lily just leaned over and whispered in my ear,  “It was always my fears going before me, creating worse case scenarios, blowing things out of proportion.”  Fear always does that.  As the saying goes, “95% of what you fear, never happens.”  But sayings like that seems to bring relief for only a moment.  All of this reminds me of a Spring afternoon almost 20 years ago.

I was sitting in the office and the phone rang.  It was my sister Lynn.  She wanted to share with me, what she called a revelation.  She had a dream the night before.  According to her, the events of the dream really did happen.  She called it a                    flashback.  I was three years old.  Our family was driving somewhere in the car and my father abruptly pulled the car over to the curb and stopped. Lynn and I were in the back seat.  He turned to me and started yelling like a monster at me because of something I did.  She could not remember what it was.  As he raged at me, I was frozen in fear with tears running down my face.  She told me that he was always angry with me.   He made my soul black and blue.   .   .and my Mom only made it sky blue.

As I grew up, I got the impression from her that I was a little angel.  She would smile as she talked about my blonde hair and blue eyes and my tender disposition.  She said I was a good boy,  but that tattoo on my soul with the letters F E A R,  left  me disabled.

The eagles are discussing something.  Please share it with the rest of us.  “There’s something wrong with this picture.  We see mixed messages.  We see violence being done to the soul.  We see the inner conflict developing.  We see the trouble ahead for Mike.  Fear is going to rule in his heart.”  I am teary-eyed as  I listen to this.

     “So do not fear, for I am with you.  Do not be distressed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.  I will hold you up with My strong  right hand.  I will not let you go.”

     About three years before the graduation party, we were doing well,  living and loving the high life.  The people who were going to be at the graduation party held me in high esteem for what we had accomplished in life.  I owned the bar at this time and I was an executive with the Catholic newspaper in Chicago.  Little did they know that I was going to be a Humpty Dumpty. . .sitting on the wall built with “successes” and falling down, down, down into one un-fixable mess.  All of the king’s horsemen and all of the king’s men couldn’t put Mike back together again.

  “Did you hear about Mike?”  Yeah, Steve told me what happened.  “Can you believe it?”  The newbie Dumbos are believing it.  All of those at the meeting today believe it.  He had a great fall.  He fell down as far as a person can go. . .down to the bottom of the shaft of his empty gold mine.  And I’m on my way to the graduation party. . .sitting in the back seat of my dad’s car again, frozen in fear with tears running down my face. . .just minutes away from seeing everyone for the first time since my fall and all I could do was pray, “God help me.”

There was a king named Jehosaphat, who ruled the tiny nation of Israel.  He was deeply distressed about the three giant armies coming to destroy him and his people.  He knew that they were too strong for him to overcome. But he also knew from past experiences,  that the King of the universe was on his side and would fight his battles for him, including those with his personal demons.

     “You will not have to fight this battle.  Take up your position and wait.  You will see the Lord give you the victory.”

We pulled up to the house where the event was being help.  It was in the Beverly neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago.  An old friend named Tom, walked up to me with his hand extended and said “Hi Mike, how are you?  I heard about your troubles and your close call with Christianity.”  (The Christianity comment was meant as a dig about religion and the bad taste in the mouths it left with him and most of the people I knew). When he said that to me,  these words flashed like lightning in the mind of my heart.  .  .”I had a Close Call with Jesus, the Savior of my soul .”

From that instant on, through the next four hours or so, my heart was encased in perfect peace.  Strength and confidence was running through my veins, supplying pure oxygen to my heart and mind.  Genuineness and humility were dripping from my lips and all was well in my soul.  I was teary-eyed through much of the experience and it served the good moments well with the people who I talked to.  “What is impossible with man, is possible with God.”  He put me back together again, better than ever.

The armies that were coming to destroy Jehosaphat, destroyed themselves.  God had intervened on his behalf.  Then the king and all of his people cried out with joy.  They shouted from the highest roof tops. They could not contain themselves because they saw the mercy and faithfulness of God with their own eyes.  Back in the day, when someone was excited about something spectacular that happened, they would shout “Jumpin Jehosaphat”.  Jeepers!   Oh My Gosh!   Holy Cow!   Can You Believe It?  No Way!

Jehosaphat’s story ends with this. . .”So the realm of Jehosaphat was quiet; for His God gave him rest all around him and in him.”  He gave him rest.  He gave him Capital R, Rest.  God’s own infinite, all powerful Rest.   .   .a ruling and over-ruling Rest that was given to him as a Gift.

Almost every day I am doing battle with fear. . .and it is always out to disable me.  And almost every day, God Himself becomes my Protector, my Strong Right Hand.  My fears disappear like the morning dew  when the beams of the Son shine on my heart and the warmth of the Father’s love and the mild breeze from His Spirit, make everything Good in the Moment.  So many Good Moments.

     “Because of the Lord’s great Love, we are not consumed. His compassion never fails.  It is new every morning.  Great is Thy faithfulness.”   A new day.  A new beginning.  A clean slate.

All of the Dumbo sheep, along with the Lilies of the Valley and the soaring eagles are shouting out together with one voice, “Jumpin Jehosaphat.”  Such Great Love for the children.

   Freely given.     Freely received.      Free, Love.

     All that glitters isn’t gold.  It’s as good as gold.  A gold mine of information.  It’s worth its weight in gold.  She’s sitting on a gold mine. They are all maxims, sayings in life, with the word gold in common. How about The Golden Rule. . . “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  Sometimes someone is said to speak with a silver tongue, meaning he is persuasive and flattering, yet insincere.  When someone speaks with a golden tongue, his words bring hope and peace.  The sound of his words are music to the ears  The sight of his words make the eyes open wide, as if one is seeing something remarkable.  Golden words fill the air with the fragrance of Lilies of the valley where the sheep find pasture. . .where the Shepherd protects them, and provides for their every need.

     Thousands of years ago, a great king named Solomon, spent all of his time and energies experiencing the treasures of gold in all of its forms.  He accumulated more than any other man in the world.  He had all that one could want or need. . .and this is what he had to say about it.  “I was the architect and builder of great monuments and parks;  I built vineyards and houses;  I made orchards and gardens.  I planted trees of all kinds of fruits.  I had servants and maidens at my beckon call.  I gathered silver and gold.  I had all the treasures that a king  could possess.  Whatever my eyes desired, I catered to them.  I did not withhold any joy from my heart.  Then I looked at all the possessions and achievements that my own hard work accomplished and realized that it was all vanity. . .and it left me feeling empty.”  The word vanity means “an illusion; something transitory, fleeting;  nothingness; worse than nothing.”  What could be worse than nothing?  Laboring for gold.

     For much of my life, I believed it’s what you have that is the measuring stick for who you are. When  I was in my middle 20’s, my cousin Denny told me that I was the rich brother in the T.V. series, “Rich Man, Poor Man.”  What a joke.  I was a joke.  I was very focused on gold.  Feeling pretty good about myself.  Full of myself.  Full of you know what.  I didn’t know that I was on the wrong path. . .on the wrong, gold-colored yellow brick road.  Little did I know what was coming.  “The refining pot is for silver and the furnace is for gold; but the Lord tests the heart with fire to determine its worth.”

     It is not what you have that makes the man.  It is who you have, that determines who you are.  On your own, singular so to speak, you are only a desert island.  No matter how much you may surround yourself with on the island, you are surrounding yourself with emptiness, shadows of real substance.  Your sense of personal well-being is always about something exterior from yourself.  Hungry for acceptance and worth, dining continuously on a golden buffet, going up for seconds and thirds of Chinese cuisine. . .temporarily full, but only full of yourself and your unmet needs. . .needing something more of something else.  More fool’s gold.  Trying to be a self-made man. 

     “I will make a man more precious than fine gold. . .a new Name is rather to be chosen than great riches and Loving Favor rather to be chosen than silver and gold.”  It is Who you have that determines who you are.  It’s the family you belong too.  It’s the family name that you have inherited. It’s the blood line that runs through your veins that makes the difference.  It’s all about the union.  When you join yourself to the gold of life to find meaning and purpose, and happiness and peace. . .you are in union with nothing.  All is vanity and profound misery for your heart and your spirit.  The birth of that union is worse than nothing.  When you are joined to Divine Gold, God Himself. . .it is Who you have that makes a difference.  It is the Power Source,  the Resource that makes the man more precious than gold.

     A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.  The dumbo sheep have heard Him speak peace into their souls. . .Golden Words.  The Lilies have walked through the orchard and have been intoxicated by His Golden Scent.  The eagles that fly over the Rainbow of His Love have seen the  Golden and Silver colors of Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faith, Self-control, Forgiveness, Power, Wisdom. . .all of the Shades of Who He is, and who they are in union with him. Filled with God.  Full and over-flowing to others.  Branches bearing Fruit from His Golden Orchard, ready for the picking by those whom they Love.

      Hearts of Gold.  Freely given.  Freely received.  Free Love.

    

    

              

     Back in the 80’s when I was in graduate school, I worked as a painter to make a living.  I still do.  One job I did,  was the home of an executive for one of the giant grocery chains.  At the end of the job  we got paid, and as a bonus, we received a gold-plated silver dollar that commemorated the anniversary of the food chain. It was protected in a hard plastic casing.  It was very shiny and glittering. . .shimmering like the sun light.  Pretty cool. Some years later,  I gave it away as a birthday present to the young son of a family friend.  It was a golden present.

     Webster defines “golden” as:  consisting of, or relating to gold;  made of gold;  shining;  characterized by a high degree of excellence;  approaching a standard of perfection;  characterized by great prosperity, happiness and achievement;  flourishing;  radiant, youthful, vigorous;  opportunely advantageous.   Golden. . . Capital G;  golden. . .lower case g.    God. . .all Capital letters of the alphabet.    Man. . .all lower case letters of the alphabet.

     Just look at the word, Gold with the capital G.  Remove the letter l and you’re left with the word, God.  Look now at the word, gold with the lower case g.  Remove the letter l and you’re left with the word, god. We are already given a glimpse into the first commandment of God, ‘I am the Lord, thy God, thou shalt not have strange gods before me.”  Please be patient  for a moment.  Give your ears a chance to hear and your eyes a chance to see.  Words of Truth sometimes bring the laboring of the soul to its moment of birth, and new ears and new eyes arrive,  just as it was written in the Book of Life before time.

     Let’s just say for the sake of simplicity, that the letter l in  the lower case g of the word gold, stands for “little man. . .or labors of man. . .or lofty and high minded man. . .or lunatick.  And let’s just say that the letter l in the Upper case G of the word Gold  stands for “little Dumbo lamb. . .lowly and humble Lily. . .lovely soaring eagle. 

     Poor old Job (same sounding O as in old) lost everything that he possessed that the world would consider golden.  His pot of gold.  In just a matter of days, all his children were killed, all his servants were killed, all of his possessions were taken by robbers and thieves. His wife blamed him for it all and had only bitterness and contempt for him.  Then to make matters even worse, painful boils covered his entire body and he sat in the dirt scraping them with a piece of clay tile from the debris of his destroyed home.

     His reputation was gone.  The respect and admiration from others was gone.  The pride within him of his accomplishments was gone.  The treasure of his children was gone.  His wealth was gone.  His  gold was gone. All of his laboring to achieve what he had. . .all of his lofty thoughts and reflections that he might have had regarding having the esteem of others. . .what should have turned him into a lunatic, turned him to say instead, “He knows the way that I take.  When He has tried me, I shall come forth as Gold.  My foot has held His steps, His way have I kept and not declined.”  Job 23:10-11

     The word, “lunatick” is actually in the New Testament of the bible.  A man came up to Jesus and knelt down before him and said, “Lord have mercy on my son:  for he is a lunatick and is in great torment and suffering:  many times he falls into the fire and many times he falls into the water. . .and Jesus spoke and the son was cured.”  Had my own father been a praying man, he would have known this story by heart.  At the Humans Anonymous meetings, I always say, “Hi, my name is Mike.  I am a lunatick.”  (I heard some of you say, Hi Mike).  The word means, “crazy, not in one’s right mind;  moonstruck.”  

     Natural, normal, human ears and eyes can see and accept the traditional meaning of the word.  Crazy.  Not in one’s right mind.  Many of us can relate to being that way.  Many of us only see others being that way.  Only the Dumbo sheep can see and accept the mystical part of the definition. . .moonstruck.  The moon fascinates us.  Another bright light in the sky.  Changing every night.  We are sometimes fascinated with it.  Golden. . .no, only golden.

     The moon has no light of its own.  It is the sun that provides the brightness, the  illumination, the fascination.  The earth and the things of this planet are no different.  No light of its own.  Only illuminated by the sun.  Only gold-plated.  Just a covering over the mud and clay.  Little Lily just whispered to me, “Oh, chief lunatick. . .they are going to have a hard time hearing this.”  I know, Sweety.  But I remember the day, when I found out, that what I treasured was only fool’s gold.  It was the end of me. . .and it was the beginning of Him.  It was the death of all the notions that a little god would believe, and the birth of the only notion worth believing, coming from the only Faith worth having. All from the only Source of Gold.  Capital G, Gold.  God Himself, dwelling in the little l of gold, every little lamb.

     The truth can be offensive and usually makes people defensive.  Everyone at the meeting today is nodding.  We are all gold miners.  In fact, we are all part of the gold rush of 2012.  Just take a moment to consider what this world values.  All of it is considered gold. What are you mining for.  What are you finding in your little pan as you wash the little pebbles and stones in the river every day.  Any gold? Some of us have hit the Mother Load.  Eureka!  The whole flock of sheep know the feeling.  Just one more thought for this good moment.

     “You say , ‘I am rich and have many things and have need of nothing more than this gold; and you are fools and are unaware that you are miserable, and poor and blind and naked:  I advise you to buy from Me with the money that I provide for you, Gold tried in the fire that you may be Rich and  clothed in the apparel of Royalty.  I will give you eyes to see and ears to hear the Truth.” Revelation 3:17-18 The  Pot of Gold at the end of the Rainbow of His Love to His children. 

     Job’s story didn’t end with his misery. . .it never does for the sheep.  As the story continued, God blessed him with the Gold the He alone possesses.  Power, Love, a Sound Mind, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Faith, Self-control.   Additionally, he and his wife generated a new family and what he lost regarding possessions, God restored to him double. 

     The Gold Mining is done.  The Gold Miner has struck it Rich. Now it’s the children’s inheritance. Freely given.  Freely received.  Free, Love.   Eureka!

 

  

New Year’s eve always reminds me of the the parties that I would have at the bar.  I was pretty selective as to who would be invited.  I kept out the trouble-makers.  At nine o’clock, the front door would be adjusted to open only from the inside.  No one could get in after the door was closed.  Food and liquor  was provided as a package deal.  .  . as much as your wanted.  People would feast on the food and the beer. . .and whatever else they were inclined to do to make their New Year happy.  I was inclined to snort cocaine for the first time;  but it wasn’t the last.

At midnight we would play the traditional New Year’s Eve song, “Auld Lang Syne.”  Everyone would  have their party hats on, blowing horns and shaking noise makers, throwing streamers, kissing every one and celebrating the new year.

        “Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought mind?  Should old acquaintance be forgot and auld lang syne.” 

This song is also played at funerals, graduations and endings to certain occasions.  It’s a farewell to the old year and a reminder to stay close to those who you love and who love you.  It’s a hello to the new year and the prospects of the happiness that hopefully awaits you.  For me it was a funeral song, a graduation into more serious insanity and a farewell to the remaining sensibilities that I had.   .   . All the silly little sheep of His flock have their own stories to tell.  Who knew then, that it was all meant to be?

        “And surely you’ll buy your pint cup, and surely Ill buy mine;  and we’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.” 

When I think about the thousands of pint cups that I drank with others, it sort of warms my heart.  I have memories of having fun, feeling close to others while the partying went on, but not knowing that death to my soul was eminent.  Little Lily is getting teary-eyed.  She knows the feeling.  “It’s such a mystery,” she said.  “Who knew what was secretly going on in my own heart?  It was dying and I didn’t know it.”  The Newbie Dumbo sheep nodded.  “Who knew that a cup of Kindness was on its way?” she said, and her tears began to flow.   .   .and Life began to flow, for where the River flows, everything shall Live.

       “We two have run about the slopes and picked the daisies fine; but we’ve wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne.” 

The eagles are remembering their lives in the old year. . .and in all their old years.  Who knew that every moment of it, regardless of what was happening. . .every atomic second of it was simply a new page in each new day, from God’s Book of Life, written in its entirety, before time began?  Every thing, in every way, shape and form. . .all coming into existence, all coming solely as a result of His labor, His work, His plan.  “Thy will be done. . .Thy will, will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”  It’s that cup of Kindness from Him that the eagles have seen, and it makes them fly into the Rainbow of the Colors of His Love, where they can eat and drink all that they want. . .and it’s all free.

       “We two have paddled in the stream from morning sun till dinner time;  but seas between us broad have roared, since auld lang sine.” 

I have swam in that troubled stream my whole life.  .  . dog paddling to stay alive, to keep from drowning.  The storms in the seas have roared in my soul and have  nearly frightened me to death.  And like the “Footsteps in the Sand” picture where the little lamb was carried by His Savior every step of the way, He was paddling with me on His back, always holding tightly, never letting me go and carrying me every stroke of the way.

       “When you walk through the waters, I will be with you. . .and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fires of life, you will not be burned.  The flames will not set you ablaze.  The fire will only burn off what troubles your soul.”  Isaiah 43:1-2 

Sweet little Lily is crying. . .tears of Joy and Happiness.  She knows it’s true.  She has drank from His cup of Kindness.  He drank all the poison of life that was in the cup before He gave it to her to drink.  All that was left was His Wine of Love to her.  She is intoxicated from it.

       “And there’s a hand, my trusty friend and give us a hand of thine;  and we’ll take a right, good will of draught,  for auld lang syne.” 

Those big ears on the Dumbo sheep are wide open and ready to carry them up to where the eagles fly.  His words to them are the breath of His Spirit and the Divine Wind carries them above the earth. . .free of their earthly life.  Free in the moment. So Good in the Moment.

       “So do not fear, for I am with you.  Do not be distressed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and I will help you.  I will uphold you and carry you with My Divine right hand. . .when you fall in the New Year, you will not be hurled head-long because I am the One Who holds your hand.”  Isaiah 41:10

      A New Day.  The Day of God’s Power.     A Day of Forgiveness.  A Day for Hope.  The Day of New Life.

 

     It was 32 years ago. . .the week after Christmas.  It was four-thirty in the morning.  I had gotten home an hour ago and was lying in bed trying to get to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.  I was wired from all the cocaine I had done that night at the bar. There were dozens of early mornings like this one.  I could hear the birds singing.  I hated their music. It sounded like they were taunting me. I think it was the first time that I considered God in a serious way.  In my desperation, I tried to make a deal with Him that morning.

     “God, if you will let me sleep. . . I will stop drinking and doing drugs,  and I will straighten myself out.”  I meant it.  I always meant it, every time I said it.  This was the first time I had said it to Him.  I was full of resolutions, full of promises to change, full of believing that I could do that. . .and yet full of despair and a sense of my own personal bankruptcy regarding possessing the strength that I needed.

     It was just a few months earlier that I had found that little pamphlet in the back room of the bar, that had a beautiful and peaceful looking picture of a waterfall.  There was a verse on it from the Bible.  I will keep you in Perfect Peace. . .” Isaiah 26:3.  It wasn’t time yet for peace.  Sleep did not arrive for me that morning.  I didn’t know then, what I know now.  I couldn’t see it then.  I couldn’t hear any Good News.  The only fragrance in the air was the scent of death coming from my own soul.  Little Lily and the Dumbo sheep are crying.  The eagles are grounded right now because the tears in their eyes have momentarily distorted their vision. They know that the moment will pass.  The Son will come out again.  “I will keep you.”

     I was driving into Orland yesterday afternoon and rear-ended another car.  I wasn’t paying close enough attention to what I was doing.  Fortunately no one was hurt.  My car is a mess.  A deep sadness came over me.  What did you say, Lily?  She held me in her arms and whispered, “It will be okay.  It is the Lord’s doing.  Let Him do to you, what seems Good to Him.” Medicine for my troubled heart.  “He will keep you.”

     My son Ben picked me up at the accident scene.  We drove for a few minutes and I found myself trying to hold back the tears.  I couldn’t do it.  He said, “It’s okay Dad.”  Then we drove in a peaceful silence for awhile.  He offered his own car to me to use for a few days and blessed me with some other thoughts.  “He is keeping you.” 

     What does a cocaine addiction and an accident have to do with New Year’s resolutions?  Just a hint right now.  Resolution begins with the letter R. . .or it begins with the letter r.

     “To everything, there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. I know that whatever God does, it shall be forever.  Nothing can be put to it nor can anything be taken from it.  And God does it all so that man will be in awe of Him. That which He resolved before time in the womb of His own being, He gives birth to in time.  Everything in the universe that happens each day, in every way, shape and form, is simply a new page turned over from the Eternal Book of Life.”   Ecclesiastes  3:14-15  

     My daughter Rachel just called as this is being written.  She wanted to know how I was doing.  She’s one of those recovering Dumbo sheep learning about the Divine Alphabet. Faith was on her lips and Love was in her heart. . .and Hope was in words.  “He has been forever keeping you.”

     He is the Keeper of Resolutions.  He alone possesses the Wisdom and Strength, not only to know what is best for His little flock, but brings them through the fires and deep rivers of life to Keep His Promises for the New Year and Prove His Unchangeable Love to them.  “I will never leave you or forsake you.” 

     I still make resolutions, small r.  I never learn, it seems.  He still makes Resolutions, Capital R and in His Perfect Patience and Mercy, in His Kindness and Understanding. . .He teaches His children that His Love is freely given. . .freely received.  Free, Love.

    

    

A B C D E F . . .”Please stop there,” one of the first-timers said.  She’s sitting towards the back with the other newbies.  “What would you like to say?” the oldest Dumbo sheep asked.  “The word Faith, begins with the letter, f.”  Although she’s pretty young, she knows her ABC’s.  It’s part of our foundation towards developing sound thinking and speaking. . .and reasoning.  “I have faith,” she said. “My mom says I do and so does my dad.  Every Sunday morning, the preacher says it too. He keeps telling me to use my faith and it will make God happy.   The songs that I like a lot, promise that things will be good if I only have faith in myself.  The problem is, I just can’t find it.  I don’t know what to look for.  What is it?”  I don’t think I have it.  She started crying. Change is coming for her.

I noticed that sweet little Lily has made her way over to the newbie and put her arms around her.  I think she’s whispering something in her ear and filling her soul with the His fragrance.  “If you have a faith as tiny as a mustard seed, you can say to a mountain, ‘Remove yourself from this place and it shall be removed.  Nothing is impossible for you to do, with this Faith.”  Matthew 17:20  As young as she is, mountains are already surrounding her.  I heard one of the Eagles say, “She’s come just in the nick of time.”

A few days ago, when we were having another Good Moment, we talked about the reality of the ornaments on man’s tree.  Faith is one of the brightest ornaments and sits close to the top of his tree. He has worked very hard to develop it.  He’s in constant labor in it, trying to give birth to the magic that it apparently brings when someone possesses it. Trying, trying, trying to make it happen.  Pushing, pushing, pushing. . .to help the birth along.  Read another book about it.  Pray another prayer for it.  Yield yourself to it.  Follow the example of others. . .blah, blah, blah.  Sorry.  I’ve been down that road and it is a Dead End.  That little cutie in the back already knows that.  If faith is born from man’s laboring, it is stillborn.  It is a dead faith.  Lower case letter f.  Worse yet, it is a gross insult to the Creator.  When a man is possessed by his own faith, he is free of God because he is his own god, lower case g.  But he is deaf and blind to it all.  The fruit from his tree is lifelike, but it’s only an ornate bowl of plastic fruit.

Webster defines faith as:  “the act of wholeheartedly and continuously believing in the existence, power and benevolence of a supreme being, having confidence that your well-being is His concern and all things in your life will work for your good;  a firm and unquestioning trust and confidence in  the value, power and efficacy of something or someone you believe in;  a belief system.”  It is a verb, and it is a noun. Faith is an action taken.  Faith is a position arrived at.

The definition of the word in the New Testament Greek Language is: ” to rely by Inward certainty;  to agree; to believe; to make friends; to be persuaded; to be made to yield; to assent both reflexively and passively to what is seen and heard in the eyes and ears of the soul.”  This is the Faith that Grows on the Tree of life. This is the Ornament that Shines like the Morning Son. This belongs alone to the Alpha and Omega of Life. . .the first, and the last. . .and every Capital Letter in between of the Divine Alphabet.  The eagles just returned from their morning flight over the Colors of the Rainbow of his Love and with their own eyes they have seen Him and with their mouth, they have tasted of His Fruit.

    “The Fruit of God’s Spirit (the work which He alone accomplishes) is Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Self-control, Faith.  Yes, Faith.  The little newbie’s ears just perked up (and I swear they’ve grown a little).  She has little eagle eyes now too.  “

So that is where Faith comes from. It’s from Him. From Jesus.  From His Spirit, Who makes Jesus a Reality in the soul.  He is happy when He does everything.  His Love to me must do everything.”  It has to be a Gift.

     “I have come in to My Garden with my children;  I have gathered the spices that I have grown.  I have gathered the richest perfumes that come from My own Scent.  I have eaten My own Honey from My Honeycomb.  I have drunk My Wine from my Vine; and I drink only My Milk.  Eat and drink, My Loves.  You can never make My Love disloyal to Myself. Drink abundantly of My Love, My precious little flock, for you all are irrevocably Mine. . .all that I have, and all that I am, is yours.” Song of Solomon 5:1

It’s like a New Year’s Eve party in here right now.  Celebration.  Dancing and singing.  Faith is on everyone’s lips.  Kisses from the King.  Happy New Year!

  Eternal Life.  Freely given.  Freely received.  Free, Love. 

I just looked at Face Book and my son Ben posted a Christmas greeting with a song by Joni Mitchell called, “River.”  It has a peaceful and mellow sound to it.  I listened to the lyrics, “It’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down trees.  They’re putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace.  Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on. . .I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly. . .”     skating and flying.   Skating and Flying.   You need a river.    You need a River.

‘Your children will be abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your Riches; and You will make them drink of the River of Your Divine Provisions.  For with You is the Fountain of Life:  in Your Light we shall see Light and Truth.”  Psalm 36:8-9

Skating.    She wishes the river was frozen so she could skate away from the world she lives in.   I heard those lyrics many years ago, when I was very young.  My heart sang them so many times,   I stopped counting.  And to able to fly away. . .only in my dreams.  One of Ben’s Christmas gifts from his girlfriend Theresa was the movie, “Never Ending Story.”  It’s one of his favorites, and mine.  A lot of flying 🙂

The irony of it all is that we ourselves are a river.  We begin to flow at the moment of conception.  It’s a calm flowing. . .peaceful, secure, in good hands so to speak.  Then we gush out in a Wonderful burst of life and the current is a little faster.   We’re like a little stream, just a tributary of larger streams, connected to rivers. . .a network of waterways.   There are a number of verses in the Old Testament that compare man’s heart to a stone. . .a smooth stone. . .smooth enough to skate on.  The Dumbo sheep are shaking their heads back and forth, knowing that this information is going to be difficult, if not impossible to accept.  They’ve been there. . .not able and unwilling to hear it, until He gave them those magnificent hears to hear His  magnificent words.

The river that we are,  seems to begin to freeze over time.  It’s so slow and subtle that we are usually unaware of it, until a moment arrives and it startles us.  .  .and others around us.  We brilliantly find ways to keep our hearts warm, to keep the river from freezing.  Just think about it.   We’re like those   “Ice Road Truckers” on TV,  running our rigs over the frozen ice.    What is it little Lily?  You say that you remember when your heart began to melt,  the first time His fragrance entered your soul?   It was warming scent of the River of Life.

Skating on the River.  I remember when the Eagles returned from their first flight over the Rainbow, into the Colors of God’s Love.  They all agreed that the Color they loved the most was His Forgiveness.  The Love of His own Son to each one of them,  let them skate. . .allowed them to enter the Kingdom of God without penalty or punishment. . .free Love, freely given, freely received.  When Rachel, Jessie and Ben were little, we would sit them down once in a while and make the announcement that this was a time for amnesty.

They knew that no matter what they told us about their “secret sins” they would be totally, forever free of punishment or reprisals of any kind.  Webster defines “amnesty” as:  forgetfulness;  the voluntary overlooking of an offense by the one offended;  a full pardon.  The Dumbos just took flight.  When He speaks to them of His Love and the Love of His Son, they fly on the River. . .they soar with the Eagles.  It’s true that amnesty with the kids was a profound challenge, because of the nature of the things that were “confessed”  But they would leave the experience with a clean slate, their little “hearts of stone” all cleaned up for the moment.  And just like me (and you), in a matter of moments. . .we are silly little sinners again, skating down the river, driving our rigs over that frozen ice.  Little Lily just asked me if maybe, this is too much to digest for some of you?  “Your right, little one. . .I get carried away sometimes.”  Sorry.  Just one more thing.

“And God said to me,  ‘My child, have you seen this before?  He carried me in His arms to the brink of a River.  There were many wonderful, colorful evergreens on both sides  (like Christmas trees).  ‘These waters pour out into the desert and into the Dead Sea and when they enter the sea (the sea of putrid and frozen waters)  the waters shall be healed and made fresh.  And wherever the River flows, every living creature in the flock shall Live. . .for where the River runs, there is Peace and Relief. . .Wisdom and Power. . .Fruits from the Tree of Life. . .Full and Forever Amnesty.”  Ezekiel 47:8-9

What a sight to Behold!  A Christmas River. . .to Skate on and to Fly on.  Full of His Gifts.  Full of Life.   Full of Himself.  Full and Free.  Free, Love.