Sing God's Praise

A couple of months ago, I read in someone's email: "When it comes to martyrdom, I'm a card carrying member of Cowards Unlimited. I don't relish the idea of physical pain. The dentist is bad enough, but martyrdom is something else. Jesus warned His followers of terrible tribulation in the end times. Many Christians believe that the church will be raptured before it happens.

"Frankly, I don't believe that. I don't think the Scripture teaches it. Of course, I might be wrong. Believe me, I want to be wrong. I don't feel like hanging round and being “tribulated.” However, the fact remains, should Jesus ever require you and me to be crucified, how will we react? My prayer is that He will strengthen me to accept it as from His loving hand. I don't think there is any other way."

At which point, the following poem streamed from my fingertips whole-cloth. It is past time I shared it with my readers.

When times of trouble
Come flowing our way
Many of Faith will look
For Blessed Rapture Day
But what if, at that time
Lord Jesus asks us to stay?

There are two Witnesses
Called to stay behind
And share the Truth that
Others could not find
For many repentant hearts
Is what GOD has in mind

Before that final period
As in the words you give
Comes the time of Martyrs
Brightness shining thru a sieve
But what if during this time
Request is not to die, but live?

There are many in the world
Who suffer acute chronic pain
There is no cure, no correction
No hope being pain-free again
Tho they pray and have Faith
Their agony is still the same

 Yet, these chronic sufferers
Are also bright points of Light
They keep their eyes on GOD
Tho in agony day and night
It is through their example
They bring others some delight

For through their days of pain
Their tears are more than few
They still sing God's praises
For all they are still able to do
Not a minute or movement is
Taken for granted by them too

While some may die Martyrs
In one of many horrible ways
There are also chronic pains
For some all of their days
No matter what our life holds
May we always sing God's praise!!

~ ESA

Driving Down Memory Lane

When I was a girl in the 1970's, numerous siblings crammed into our family car for hours to literally drive over the river and through the woods to grandma's house. Back in the time before car seats and even rear seat belts, let alone iPods and portable / built-in DVD players, my family played games like "I-Spy," "Geography" (where you name a place that began with the last letter of the previous place name), "Traffic Bingo" and one of my dad's favorites -- "Spot the Straightaway."

While I now understand it to be urban legend, my dad explained that President Eisenhower designed the US Highway System to have a mile-long straightaway without overpasses "every so many-miles down the highway," so a plane could make an emergency landing. While easy in flat open sections of the mid-west, we lived in the Northeastern US, where highways built in the 1950's and 1960's meandered around existing cities and large towns, as well as wove through rolling hills and mountains.

But if we were quiet (hint-hint) and observant, we would be able to find those mile-long stretches. As a reward, the observer would get a window-seat at the next pit stop change. Having been crammed in the middle of the bench seats (front and back), we all knew the value of the prized window seats.

Two weeks ago, a small plane landed on a normally crowded New York City highway. This is not the first time; this will not be the last time. But when I heard about it, I smiled and remembered the "Spot the Straightaway" game of my youth ~ years after my dad, and now one of my siblings, passed away.

The reason I share this particular drive down memory lane is this:

• Share the time we have with each other, we never know when someone will no longer be in our lives.
• Even when we don't realize it, life's trials and tragedies shape us -- like a highway cutting straight along mountainous terrain -- to prepare us for future emergencies.
• Be observant; while the US didn't intentionally plan emergency straightaways, God does. There may be crisis in our lives, but God opens up a place for emergency landings too.

~ ESA

Greatest Treasure in the World (Story)

(Note to readers: For those who are sensitive to such, there is foul language in the story below, used where appropriate to the characters and setting of the story.)

* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *

There once was a man who had much in this world. He was quite intelligent, held several advanced degrees and lived a life of fun and luxury. Despite all this, he cared little about others in this world. He would share his gripes about how much he paid in taxes to support "the lazy slobs who should go out and get a job." He would look the other way whenever his gaze happened upon a homeless or poor person. He had his personal body guards keep away everyone he did not want in his company, whether they were people asking for a hands out for some pointless charity or a disgruntled employee - soon to be ex-employee.

One day, this man met a stranger who would take his life in a whole new direction. The stranger somehow avoided the body guards and approached the man, asking him - quite seriously - "What would you give to receive the greatest treasure in the world?"

Quite perplexed, the man was not quite sure how to respond. He had everything he could possibly want: beautiful women, a fine house, a good job, a huge income, a brilliant mind, even a fit body. But that night left him awake and restless in the large comfortable bed. "What is the greatest treasure in the world?" he asked himself. Silence answered.

The next day, the stranger approached him again and asked for his answer. "Fine," answered the man with a swagger. "I'm game. What is the greatest treasure in the world, and what do I need to give you to get it?"

"The price is so small that in the end you will not even notice it. I will not tell you what this treasure is, for it defies description. But once you receive it, you will not want anything else of this world."

At once, the man became skeptical. "I don't agree to any deal with undisclosed terms," he snapped.

The stranger opened his hands wide and shrugged. "I can only say you will not loose anything that you will desire to keep in the end."

The man's eyebrow rose, and then his brow lowered into a scowl. He did not know what to say and for a long moment he just glared at the stranger.

The stranger met his eyes, calmly and confidently. There was also a touch of sad compassion, as though he was aware of something the man wasn't. How could that be? Surely this stranger wasn't that intelligent.

"Deal!" the man practically shouted, extending his hand to shake the stranger's. The word seemed to leap of its own volition, in defiance of the stranger's gaze. Shaking hands, the man wondered to what he just agreed.

"It will begin tomorrow." The stranger explained as he prepared to walk away.

"WHAT will?"

"Your acquisition of the greatest treasure," the stranger called over his shoulder with a smile. The door swung silent behind him with finality.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, the stock market crashed. Half the man's fortune was gone. He left the office early and went home to drink himself to numbness. His manservant was handing him the gin & tonic over ice in a crystal glass when his secretary knocked on the ornate oak door and poked his head into the room. "Sir, there is an urgent call I need you to take."

The man groaned and asked, "What is it?"

"Sir... there's been an incident at the company."

"WHAT!?!?"

"An explosion, sir, but don't worry, we got everyone out before the fire spread."

"...FIRE???" The man leapt to his feet, spilling half the glass' contents down the front of his expensive custom-tailored suit.

"Uhm... err... yes, sir." The secretary pulled most of his slim body back behind the protection of the door, extending the cell phone toward the man sheepishly.

"DAMN! How bad? Oh, hell! Give me that damn phone!" He yanked the phone and listened. His face went from wrathful red to death-like pallor in moments. "Shit!" he muttered, sinking into a studded leather chair. "At least we have insurance for the--" There was a pause, and then he roared into the cell phone, "What the hell do you mean they filed for bankruptcy. They're an insurance company! They can't do that, can they???" Color bloomed in his cheeks as he listened a minute more then shouted, "What the hell are you doing wasting time??? We have attorneys to straighten all this out. Get them on the horn and get it done!" He slammed his thumb on the end-call button and sat there gripping the phone in his red-knuckled hand.

Then he turned his attention back to his secretary. "Get my accountants on the secure line; I'll take it in my office here. Let's see what I have left."

* * * * * * * * * *

In the months that ensued, a full ninety-eight percent of his fortune had slipped away. The business folded; his property either had to be sold off or somehow fell to misfortune. The garage full of high-end cars all strangely stopped running no matter what his mechanics did. That was when he had mechanics; he had to let them and all of his staff go, even his prized secretary. His houses and belongings were claimed in the bankruptcy, with surprisingly no insurance to buffer him from that. All the insurance companies seemed to collapse following the crash of the market. Banks were calling back their unsecured loans at record speeds, and he had a lot of outstanding loans. Past due on his quarterly taxes, the government had frozen his remaining assets. He was penniless.

He felt out of place in the designer shirt and slacks as he slid out of his new car - a pre-owned nondescript mid-sized sedan - and stood before the house. The house's exterior was in sad disrepair; filthy siding and wooden beams desperately in need of paint, curled like flower pedals toward the sun that bleached them dry and split. The windows were grimy and chunks of mortar were missing from around the sashes. It would take a good chunk of money to fix this place properly. But the two-story dwelling was not his concern. He only rented a two-room unit in the lower back part of the building. He slowly lumbered toward his new home with the key in hand.

* * * * * * * * * *

The man slammed his fists on either side of the keyboard in frustration. Nothing! Not one damn job! He was qualified for hundreds of high-paying positions, but no one would hire him. Somehow all his friends disappeared as fast as his money. None returned his calls. No business would consider his candidacy; they all told him he was "overqualified". Those were the ones who at least had the decency to respond to him at all. Most of the time, he never heard back from any of his applications. Even the headhunters stopped calling after a while.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, ignoring its protesting creak. It was worn and wobbly, and the desk's wood veneer was chipped at the edges and peeling back from the particle board. Neither the furnishings nor the outdated - and extremely slow - computer before him were of any concern to him. These belonged to the local library, one of the few remaining open in the state. He wondered how many other people depended on similar access to the internet because they could not afford a home computer or internet access.

The thought didn't last long; he had to find a job fast. The cash he had on hand when his assets were frozen and property seized was quickly running out. He thought he was being frugal, but he just couldn't see how people could live on so little. He recently had to give up meat in his diet. Fresh fruits and vegetables were no longer an option two months ago. The prices at the supermarket continued to rise and sales tax jumped to cover the state deficit; he was feeling the pinch on both ends.

The women at the social services center had very little sympathy for his riches-to-rags story - VERY little. He was denied everything he thought his hard-earned money paid for: the food stamps, unemployment, pre-paid cell phones. They told him he had to get a job and suggested - of ALL things - the local 'Mart. The 'Mart! Here he was, a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company a little over a year ago and they want him to be a door greeter, a cashier, or worse - a stock clerk! That's what the poor brainless uneducated saps of society did, he thought to himself.

But the little money he had was running out fast, he'd have to swallow his pride and take a job where he could find one...

* * * * * * * * * *

The man scowled, jabbed the keys before him, and inquired, "Do you want fries with that?" It had taken another month before he started his job search in what he considered the dregs of the job market. The 'Mart wouldn't even consider his application. The only place that would hire an overqualified but flat-broke guy in his mid-fifties was a fast-food establishment in a very bad part of town. The location had been robbed three times; it was only his second day. It was remarkable how complicated the whole process was in taking an order, entering it correctly, remembering which key on which unit to press at the right time and getting it done in under 90-seconds.

The horn blared loudly at his window and he jumped slightly. He waved the "one more moment" gesture to the irritated driver waiting for his meal as he took the last of the order via the antediluvian headset that crackled non-stop in his ear, slurring every word and swallowing half of them. "Can you please repeat your order, slower this time?" An angry squawk was his answer, followed almost immediately by the long blaring horn outside the window.

"Thank you," he muttered into the headset and jabbed the last of the order into the system. Then he looked at the screen for the current order: one small soda, two medium fries, two deluxe burgers and a kids meal. He jammed a wax-coated paper cup into the beverage machine and punched the button above. With a semi-run to the fries bin, he discovered they were out of fries. The timers read that the next batch would not be ready for two more minutes. The man bit back a curse - the Manager already threatened to fire him for that - and ran over to the next counter to grab the pre-made burgers and assemble the kids meal. He reached into the bin and discovered the toys for boys were all gone. He grabbed one from the girl's collection; maybe the kid won't notice. He tossed the burgers into a bag and headed back to the window, slipping on the sticky puddle now at his station. Grabbing hold of the counter, the man glanced up to notice he selected the "large" button to fill the small cup; it overflowed the counter and covered the front of the machine as well as the floor.

Another angry horn sounded, echoed by the one outside the window. The man practically THREW the bag at the waiting customer. He snapped a lid on the sticky cup and passed that along as well, valiantly trying to ignore the look of disgust on the driver's face when he grabbed the the cup. "Hey! Moron!" the passenger called out, leaning over to glare at him. "Where's our fries!?!" Remembering, he spun around and tracked the sticky mess across the floor. He grabbed an almost-done batch of fries from the deep-frier and dumped them into the bin. He liberally poured the salt over the steaming mess and halfheartedly tossed the fries once with the scooper before shoveling it into the pre-sized cardboard sheaths. Tossing those in a bag, he approached the window only to be greeted with black looks from driver and passenger as well as the wailing of a disappointed child in the back seat. "This is a GIRL's toy," the driver snapped as he handed back the opened item. "We want a boy's toy."

"I'm sorry, sir, we're all out of those."

"Well, then, I want a refund!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't -"

"Then get me the Manager, NOW!" he yelled leaning on the horn for emphasis. This set up a trio of other horns from the cars still waiting behind him.

The man scrambled to get the Manager. A look of horror followed by disgust was shot his way when the Manager saw his workstation. The Manager then smiled and leaned out the window to speak with the driver. "So sorry, sir, what is the problem? ... I see... That long? ... No, you are right, that is not how we do things here, sir... Yes, sir... I can refund your child's meal, sir..." He spun around and glared at the man as he keyed open the register and counted out the money. Then he handed it to the customer with a bright smile. "Here you are, sir. Again, I am sorry for any inconvenience. Please accept our apologies and have a nice day." When the Manager turned around, he eyed the man menacingly and snarled, "Clean up this damned mess and get your ass to my office in five minutes or you will never work another day ANYwhere in town. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, the Manager called out, "George! You're promoted to Cashier, get over here and take care of the next car, will you?"

* * * * * * * * * *

The man had been demoted to mopping, cleaning, filling the machines and other prep-work. They had made it very clear he was lucky to be washing wilted heads of lettuce and slicing tomatoes - extra thin. He realized with growing dread he was lucky to have a job at all. He had fired many an employee for less cause, many of them he had never met face-to-face. His new position finally broke through his pride and he found - at last - some sense of humility.

Days rolled by, becoming weeks, then months. In time he worked his way back to Cashier with more confidence and understanding of the system. He also began to see the customers in a whole new light. There were regulars that lived nearby and he would often see them on the sidewalks, in the supermarket, and elsewhere. Sometimes he would take his break out on their side of the counter, sharing a meal and conversation. It felt good.

His earnings were still meager and he realized fast-food wasn't healthy, even if they took pity on him and let him bring some leftovers home at the end of the night. So he started to shop from the old-food racks in the back of the supermarket. If you could stomach cutting off the moldy parts, it wasn't too bad. Some of his new friends introduced him to coupons. He was moved to tears one afternoon, when he realized how much a mere $5.00 savings meant to him.

One night, while bringing the garbage out to the dumpster, he saw a pair of homeless people rummaging through the bags, eating bits of burger that had someone's teethmarks and picking ketchup-stained napkins from the french fries before shoving them into their mouths with great joy. They looked up at his approach and he realized with anguish they were both under the age of 18, possibly runaways.

At home, lying on the slowly-deflating air-mattress under a couple of rough, thin blankets, the man realized he was actually very grateful for all that he currently had: a roof over his head, electricity to light his humble two-room unit, heat in the winter, running water for the shower, sink and toilet, a refrigerator and some income to help keep a meager stock of food.

For the first time in a very long time, he got to his knees and he prayed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

The first lesson.

* * * * * * * * * *

Months continued to roll by. The man was promoted to Assistant Manager, and he actually had some pride in his work. There was a lot of turnover at this particular fast-food place; the continuous string of robberies did not help. He seemed to be constantly training new recruits and they seemed to blunder much of the job. Remembering his first days, though, he patiently worked with them, giving them several chances to try again. He had to have even more patience for the customers. Many were rude, demanding, always in a hurry and very belittling toward him and his staff - those that weren't outright holding the Cashier up at gun-point. They would have gotten security cameras long ago, but with the robberies, they just barely met their bills; there was no extra for security.

He had even gotten the employees trained to put rejected or unsold food into separate trash bags. These they would set aside for the growing number of homeless that hungrily awaited the feast at the back door each night. If the health department discovered this, they may find a reason to shut down the place. So they had to trust that their "back door customers" would keep this secret. But having been hungry himself, the man could not waste food if he knew someone could use it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Late that fall, the hurricane came in. Rain fell in buckets as the winds howled, sending the sheets of water rattling against the windows. The man was working the counter, having sent the employees home before the height of the storm hit. The Manager did not want to close up completely, so the two of them were the only ones working that shift. The place was mostly empty.

Rotating red and blue lights outside the large-paned windows announced the arrival of a police car. The officer rushed in with a drenched uniform and dripping cap. Standing at the door, he shouted into the building, "Everyone needs to get out of here immediately and head to high grounds. We're evacuating the area!"

"What?" shouted from the manager from beside the sizzling grills.

"Mandatory evac! Now! The dikes are about to give way! You've got 15 minutes or less to reach high grounds!" With that, the officer raced back outside and leapt into his running car. The silence followed a moment as everyone mutely watched him leave, then leapt into action. The customers at the tables grabbed their food and drinks and bolted for the door. The man and Manager quickly shut off the grills, friers and gas. When the man was ready to close out the registers the Manager yelled, "No time, we've just got to chance it. I've locked the back door. Let's lock up the front and go!"

"I've got to get my stuff at home, first," the man declared as he hesitated mid-step. I live a block from here and its even lower ground..."

The Manager pulled on his jacket and handed the man his, "It's too late, we need to go now. C'mon, I'll drive."

Shaken, the man let himself be led out, automatically shutting off the lights on the way out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Three days later, they were allowed back into the area. The flood covered everything in stinking brown mud. At the restaurant, much of the equipment would need to be replaced. One of the glass doors was broken open and the registers were empty; one was missing completely. Of his two-room unit, everything was still under two inches of water. Bedding, blankets, clothing, towels - all muck covered.

The man wandered numbly outside to his car, sitting muck-glazed to the windows, and wept.

Then they arrived. Caravans of people came with food, toiletries, tents, blankets, water - even portable washers to help launder what could be saved. He found himself on his cot at the shelter wearing a clean set of clothes for the first time in days. The shower felt like the best shower he had ever taken. Who knew that a shower would feel so good. The clothes were donations and somewhat worn, but even the stain down the front of the shirt didn't seem to bother him as it would have... wow, that seemed a lifetime ago.

He spent his first days working with the staff and volunteers to clean up the restaurant. Then they started helping the neighbors - both businesses and residents up and down the block. As the week progressed, more and more volunteers arrived to help clear away the muck, mud and pools of water. Then the real work began. Walls needed to be stripped down, and rebuilt, much needed to be repaired or outright replaced, carpets were ripped up and what could be was scrubbed down. It was long, hard days.

Nights were spent at the shelter with many other people from his neighborhood. The man was glad he had befriended several of them before now. It made working beside them easier, and the nights' rest in the school auditorium less awkward. In a way, it was part block-party / part indoor camp-out with the neighbors, even if half of them snored like a grizzly bear and there were long lines at the restrooms and locker showers.

One evening, came a big treat - someone had found a usable deck of cards high on a shelf. The owner said they could have them. The cards were worn around the edges and otherwise the typical deck of cards from the dollar store. But the man held them for a long moment, so full of gratitude for this simple thing he didn't know what to say. Then he looked up at the neighbor who passed them to him and he was far more grateful for that woman and all who had come to help his neighborhood following the devastation. Tears ran down his face as he silently hugged her.

The second lesson.

* * * * * * * * * *

Years came and went. Despite the help that rushed in immediately following the storm, news crews and out-of-the-area volunteers soon disappeared. The neighborhood slowly struggled to its feet. It was still a dangerous, blighted part of town; the fast-food establishment was still robbed on a regular basis. Things took a long time to build and some people never came back, leaving rotting mud-caked homes behind as a further eyesore in the neighborhood.

No one knows how or where it started, but the disease struck this particular neighborhood hard and fast. The Manager was the first to fall ill at the restaurant, then the man, too, became very ill.

Having no health insurance, the man went to the nearby clinic - an hour and a half drive away. Fever burned his brow and he could not stop retching. If only the spots would stop dancing before his eyes; he needed them to drive home again. When he stumbled through the doors, he found a quarter of his neighborhood in the clinic's waiting room - men, women and children. All without insurance, all very sick; the single restroom was already clogged. He laughed out loud remembering how once he was so vocal against people who didn't have health care and depended on clinics like these. He didn't remember much beyond that.

He woke up two days later in a hospital bed; where that hospital was, he had no clue. The room was quarantined and contained three other beds in the room originally meant to hold two, all occupied. A young woman approached him wearing a fully encapsulated suit. She took his name and information, what he could croak out through parched lips, before identifying herself from the CDC. She started to tell him what was going on, but the ringing in his ears intensified and the room became hazy. His body ached horribly and burned with fever, he slid blissfully back into unconsciousness.

".... I think he's starting to come around. That's it. Open your eyes, if you can. Yes, I know it hurts. You've been very sick... Can you look over toward the light? I want to see your eyes... ..." The person was dressed in a bio-hazard suit; a bright flashlight was waving back and forth in front of his eyes. He wanted to tell them to stop. He wanted to tell them it hurt. That everything hurt. So much. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move his eyes. His eyes... They rolled up into his head and his lids dropped automatically. Then his limbs started to tremble uncontrollably. In a few moments the seizure passed, but then another ache continued to grow, in his chest and radiating down his right arm.

"We're loosing him too. Just like all the others," came another voice. "We still don't know what it is!" The pain intensified; breathing became difficult, then it seemed to suddenly stop.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something felt as though it detached. He felt himself floating, pain slipping past him like a bad memory. In his ears a monitor was clamoring, but that was not his concern now. He didn't own the monitor. It belonged to someone else...

In a dream-like way, he slowly opened his eyes. The people in the room were applying needles and paddles to some old withered guy on the bed. It looks like he's going to-- Good God! That was HIM!

"I can't be dead!" He looked around the room in a panic. The free-floating feeling continued unabated and the pain was completely gone. In fact, all physical sensation was completely gone. He panicked a moment more. Then recalled something. Something wasn't quite right. "Wasn't there supposed to be a bright light or something?" He looked around the room more carefully. "Oh, no! Where's the light? There's supposed to be a light! Loved ones to meet me and take me to Heaven? That kind of stuff. WHERE IS IT???"

In a flash, he recalled all of his life. Not just the recent years, but the long years when he had wealth and luxury far beyond what he could see having now. He recalled how he treated people, how cruel he had been. It seemed so very long ago, but that WAS him. Now he had come to life's end and he never once apologized. "DEAR GOD!" he cried out with an anguished soul. "I am so sorry! So very sorry for all that I did! All that I was! I was blessed with riches beyond measure and I did nothing to help those in need. Now I'm one of them and I realize my mistakes. PLEASE! Please! Don't let me die now!!!"

That was when he noticed the stranger, the very stranger whom he struck a deal with all those years ago.

"Am I dead? Is this the end? Please! I want to live some more. I really haven't finished all that I planned to do. I want to help the neighborhood come back. I want to help all those employees that depend on us. Please... please..." The man peeled his eyes away from the stranger and cast his eyes heavenward, "Oh, dear God, PLEASE help me. I need You."

The third lesson.

The stranger smiled warmly at him and seemed very pleased. "Having learned the lessons you have passed through. You are now ready to receive the greatest treasure in this world."

The man paused, thinking, using every scrap of his intelligence, reviewing all that had happened since their last meeting. Tears welled up in his eyes. "What is it? Life?"

The stranger smiled more broadly, "Close. That is a great treasure, but there is one greater and it is offered to all people." He lightly touched the man in the chest and some unknown tightness, some unrecognized grief, a burden beyond words was lifted from his inner being. "In this world, it is known as Forgiveness. But..." the stranger held up a finger before the man's eyes, "there is one more thing you must do to earn it completely."

"What?" the man whispered in frightened hesitation.

"You must share it with all you meet. Forgive them, and you will retain your Forgiveness too."

A heartbeat later, the man's body drew a ragged breath. He was once more among the living, and his body was rapidly stabilizing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two weeks later, he was released from the hospital. He had a whopper of a hospital bill to face - three times what it would have cost the insurance company, if he had health insurance. But that was a worry for another day.

The CDC was able to use his blood samples to isolate the virus and produce an anti-viral serum. Of course, the rich who funded the production would get the first doses, then those with insurance would receive theirs, and lastly the poor with whom he worked and lived.

The neighborhood would be emptier, many had lost the battle against this foe. But some remained; some returned. There was a call to rebuild, and the man's heart sang to a new rhythm. He carried within the greatest treasure in the world. The rest could be dealt with in time.

* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *

- ESA

Trials and Tribulations

Given the events still unraveling in Japan, and the even more recent string of devastating tornadoes in the US ~ let alone the many major events that have occurred since I posted this originally here almost two years ago, I felt it time to re-post it.

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Tribulation

I've debated about whether or not I should write what I have. But some days you just have to follow what's in your heart, roll the dice and face what comes from doing so.

Tribulation is a subject on many minds and in many articles, movies and books of late. I'll try to be brief as possible on the subject (brevity is not my forte, so please bear with me. :D).

WHAT
Tribulation is considered by many as the "end times" or "end of the world". While it may be "the end of the world as we know it" as one song goes, I believe Tribulation is essentially a period of change -- as brutal as puberty can be -- but not the end of the world. It’s the end of one period and the start of another. Any change is turbulent. But the next era will be something of Peace and Wonder.

HOW
Pick a subject from a long list: earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, strong/violent storms, tsunami's, cyclones, war, famine, pestilence / pandemic, meteor strike, volcanoes, cats and dogs living together... You can find any of these in places ranging from the Bible to Blockbuster Video, from the neighbors to the nightly news. So I need say no more here.

WHY
What I would like to point out is that it doesn't matter so much what happens, but how humanity responds to what happens. Human beings can grow / change once pushed to our limits. What if that push is on a much larger scale than an individual, family, company or community? What if we're pushed on a global scale? How BIG would that change be?

The other question is what would that change be? My belief is that if we looked to our own needs and developed a bunker mentality, this will only lead to isolation and a "get them before they get us" attitude that could spell the fall of humanity. :(

Or, we could reach out to each other – from next-door neighbors to others in communities around the world. It's been proven that the combined efforts of human beings bring greater results than the sum of individual efforts. What would happen if we expanded our efforts, joining hands with those around the world? What kind of change would that bring?

WHO
There's been much debate about Rapture as a means of escape from Tribulation. But from what I've researched, my conclusion is that if there is an escape clause somewhere, it's certainly NOT before the start of Tribulation. There are six of seven seals broken before the 144,000 are sealed in Revelation. So that means there are some events that will happen before that point. In one of the Gospels, Christ mentions that, even though it's going to be a time of grave horrors, "it will be shortened due to the elect." That makes me think the elect will still be around on this mudball at the time or why would it matter...?

For myself, suffice to say that I'd rather prepare my heart to go through Tribulation and meet Christ face-to-face on the other side with my head held high rather than saying "I believe" only because it will give me a ticket out of the horrors.

WHERE
I believe we shall see many horrors, but not necessarily all in one place at the same time, unless the sun blows up then all points above are null and void (save the paragraph above, of course).


Let's see, we have Who, What, Where and How... what's missing...? Of course, the first question everyone asks...

WHEN
I don't know. I don't WANT to know. I'm a person that will fixate on a date and needlessly waste the time I have. If I take it day-by-day, living like it's my last moments, does it really matter when?

Also, something else came to mind on the subject. Clocks and calendars are man's creation to mark time – not God's. All said and done, it's in God's hands, no matter what we do, say or predict. But God may not see time as humanity does.

I believe the true timing of "when" is similar to one of those little puzzle games where you have to line up the holes to get the ball to drop through. In other words, a series of people and events must line up just right for things to happen. If a person is not there or something does not quite happen in "just the right way" or in the proper sequence, the ball is still "trapped" and the major events are delayed. There have been hypotheses that the "end times" may have happened already. But I believe these were the times when things started to line up but then something changed – perhaps a change in policy or way people handled the situation before them.

But when all does fall into place and the BIG event happens, it will be a bumpy ride. But at the end is something and Someone wonderful. I think that's worth going through what may come our way.

WHAT CAN WE DO
The answer is also found in the good book: pray. Christ instructed people to pray that it does not happen in the winter (at a time when local food is short, shelter is desperately needed and transport is difficult). I don't hear many people preaching that one. Repent, yes. Believe, certainly. But pray that the end times don't come in winter? No. Why? It makes a LOT of sense to me. That's why it's in my prayers.

In addition, there's some common-sense stuff. The CDC and FEMA have many guidelines and has been trying to get people to read them. Prepare a grab-and-go bag. List your medications. Have the family become familiar with a fire-drill. Plan an evacuation route to high grounds. What would you do if you know a storm is coming - stock up on batteries and essentials. That's stock-up not stockpile – there's a difference; hording is not helping unless you plan to share with the neighborhood. And a room full of supplies isn't useful if you've been evacuated from your home. Again, common sense and reasonable preparations are recommended.

Lastly, get to know those around you. If a major disaster hits, phone lines and other contact with the outside world will be cut temporarily. Even cell phones are worthless if the tower is out of power or taken down – or the switchboard overwhelmed as seen on 9/11. Face-to-face contacts will be the front line to recovery immediately after the disaster. Start now and get to know people and things will run a lot smoother if you find a friendly, familiar face rather than a stranger working beside you.

In the years following Hurricane Katrina, more and more communities have developed Emergency Response Plans and have started training regular civilians with some First Response skills to many different adverse events that can occur in our local area, from blizzards to bombings. It will be a still needed more and more in the future, I believe.

Well, I've tried to keep it short. I don't know who or how many will read this. But I hope some of the advice above will be taken going forward. Thanks for reading.

Prepare and pray
Not prey
Today

- ESA

Obstacles and Tools

As one strives to grow spiritually, one recognizes and overcomes obstacles that impede growth. Often, these can be summed up in two words: Fear and Self-Pride.

Fear hinders our efforts to open our hearts and reach out to others. It prevents us from leaving comfortable situations for something new and unknown. Fear of failure stills hands and tongues more often than any criticism, reprimand or outside threat.

Self-Pride - feeling that I am greater or stand taller than others in someone's eyes (including God's) - leads to prejudice, ostentation, greed, jealousy, bitterness, lies, and corruption of the soul. With it, one's eyes remain on oneself and not where they should be.

Then there's the combination of the two: when one allows fear of what others think of them to alter what one is inspired to do. That defeats the purpose, for in changing it one weakens or kills it. Or worse, changes it's message or intent.

Within our possession we have tools to counter this.

Faith and Trust work together to form the Courage that sees us through the Fear. Faith and Trust in God opens us to Guidance and Understanding of things that were beyond us, helping us break the illusion fear often holds before our eyes.

We also bring out the best in others by believing in them and trusting them to do the right thing. Yes, we will get hurt, for the world is not perfect. But it's good-faith efforts that allows humanity to collaborate. And when we work together, something amazing happens: We accomplish far more than the sum of our individual efforts!

Humility is hard to maintain, but it keeps the ego down to a manageable size. It helps one to see the the false glitter of lies and LAUGH in it's face! It will not be in standing before people but in serving people that things progress. For in working for and with one another, we grow. Those that stand proudly in front oft are the ones blocking the progress.

Keeping our eyes off ourselves is one of the hardest things. Each year we celebrate our own birth. Attention is given to individual grades in school; personal accomplishments are recognized. To get a job, we must tell people what we do and how well we do it. It's become our way of life.

We need to avert our eyes from a public, self-centered perspective to see what is outside of ourselves (others and their needs) and within ourselves (God's Love, Guidance and Wisdom).

Further, this leads to another tool: Prayer. When we know we are not alone, and when we realize we need help, we pray. Sometimes we bemoan our circumstances and ask for help. But when take our eyes off ourselves completely, praying for others and opening ourselves to His Guidance, we let His Love combine with our love.

And in serving humbly, we allow that Love to flow through our thoughts, works and words. When we focus on self, this is choked off. When we focus how WE are helping others, it is crippled. But when we move our focus off ourselves entirely, it flows sweetly.

When we get past the Fear and Self-Pride,
So many wondrous things happen.

-ESA