The Surpassing Greatness of His Power

It was around 2^nd or 3^rd grade that I went to the school office at St. Francis de Sales to have the eye exam that was administered to everyone my age. Part of it was to look into a viewer and identify where the black dot was. One lens showed a table and the other showed a dot and we were to say if the dot was on, above, below or beside the table. At first I told the clinician the truth. My left eye saw the table, my right eye saw the dot and when I'm looking into the lens I do not see a dot and table together.

This did not seem to satisfy the person but it seemed easy enough to calculate where the dots were in relation to the position of the table and so that is what I did, then and a few other times in the future. Later on an eye doctor told me that I had what he liked to call “milk man eyes” - I could drive the milk truck while at the same time checking out my delivery addresses. So just be aware. If it doesn't seem that I'm paying attention to you I am, or at least one eye is.

I was reminded of that today at church. Not one to see the world through rose colored glasses our pastor passed out those 3D glasses which have one lens red and the other green. Near the end of his sermon he showed on the overhead screen the sermon series picture which depicts a bridge in a forested wilderness setting. The series is on Hebrews 11, the great faith chapter and the idea of the photo is that of heading out into the great unknown by faith. Well, in 3D I did not see the bridge coming toward me and the depth of the trees and branches and path. One eye saw a blurry picture in red and the other saw a blurry picture in green (much better by the way) but my brain would not put the two together. It was a little more complicated that tables and dots.

About a month ago I started desiring and praying to be able to see the spiritual aspects of this world with much greater clarity. Although I didn't realize until today the connection with the way my eyes work and the way I have been viewing the spiritual interaction with the physical I have been aware that there has been a disconnect. One of my eyes is much stronger than the other and it dominates, at least in real time, how I discern things. And because it dominates I am missing so much of what is actually going on. I need to both strengthen the other eye and to get both to work together so that I don't have to guess what the true picture is.

In my life, in my experience, God rarely comes out and gives me a clear answer right away on something that I've been praying or contemplating about. He seems to enjoy having me go through the process. I get a bit here and a bit there and then when it's time a bunch of random things come together, a key piece is added and I finally get a clear picture of what the answer is.

My conversion to actually know that God is, to faith in Jesus as my Savior and Lord, was a wild ride that happened over a few months. God was just too big to be able to understand. But a point of stress led to an earnest examination which ultimately led to the truth of the gospel. And yet drawing close I did not see clearly until I finally surrendered and He entered in. Oh what a glorious day that was!

The next few years he gave me understanding and insight that I certainly did not earn. I was available and He was pleased to bless me and take me along with Him. These came in pieces which were added to other pieces until finally I could understand, Oh, that's how that works.

So now I'm in this process of trying to have greater spiritual clarity in viewing the world and people and situations. And I'm noticing all sorts of things. I'm wondering about the activity of evil spirits in the lives of ordinary people and I get a few interesting people come through on my road testing.

One day I have a delightful client from Australia. After a great chat and at the end of the test she tells me that she directs all the planned parenthood clinics in West Michigan. The disconnect between our nice time and the murder of thousands of innocents shakes me. Then the Holy Spirit whispers, “mark this”

The same day I test a very interesting young man who I have a great conversation with and it turns out that he is Mormon, recently back from his 2 year mission. I've studied and written about Mormonism and understand the great spiritual deception of it's history and present and I think a little about it as we talk. I am not prompted to engage in any discussion related to that but the Holy Spirit once again whispers, “mark this.”

I have a client who fails on the first part of their test and there is a computer glitch which slightly alters my schedule and I was a little perturbed about losing a test slot. I take the free time to head to the office and close my eyes to get 40 winks. When I get back there has been an accident on the street where we leave the parking lot and there are police cruisers, ambulances, a fire truck and as I walk closer I see a man with a bloody face and paramedics doing chest compressions on him. It turns out it was a 51 year old man who was doing a wheelie with his motorcycle at 60 mph from the nearby traffic signal who hits a car coming out of our parking lot, killing the man and sending his bike another 50 yards. I realize the next day that if I had a client at the correct time it could well have been our car that was hit by that motorcycle. I mark this as well.

I've had people that I know are struggling with spiritual deception come to mind during my prayer time and I've named some of the darkness’s that have popped into my mind then and prayed against those. I could go on with a lot more examples but the point is at this time that I'm still putting the pieces together and am very interested to see where it all will lead.

Here is a scripture from the first chapter of Ephesians that grabbed my attention. In it Paul prays:

(May) the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give to you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of Him.

(May) the eyes of your heart be enlightened, so that you will know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints,

and what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe. There are in accordance with the working of the strength of His might

which He brought about in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly places,

far above all rule and authority and power and dominion and every named that is named, not only is this age but also in the age to come.

And He put all things in subjection under His feet, and gave Him as head over the church,

which is His body, the fullness of Him who fills all in all.

 

Donde Est Oswaldo?

Like many puzzles this trip in search of Oswaldo is a composite of my recent adventures driving around Wyoming.

We leave the parking lot after waiting about 5 minutes for the traffic to totally clear, that is, no visible moving cars for at least a mile in any direction.  We take a right turn at about 1/10th a mile an hour, making sure to run over the curb by at least 5 feet.  I instruct the person to turn right at the next street and as we are approaching the street she points at it and says "Here?" as she is driving past it.  By the time we get to the third street past the one I originally intended her to turn on we finally manage to turn into the residential area, at 1/10th a mile an hour, onto the left side of the street, and proceed on the left side as if the world really was beautiful and we had no cares at all.  I gauze longingly out the window but do not see Oswaldo.

After awhile we get to 28th street and I see a woman walking along on the sidewalk who I would describe as "not really thin".  She is wearing black stretch pants with the word " LOVE" emblazoned across the bottom of her bum.  As she walks the L and E are wildly bouncing up and down.  This is not pretty but sure is interesting and I think that Oswaldo must surely be somewhere near by.  Alas, no.

Later on we are about to make a right hand turn at a light but must stop to let a pedestrian finish walking across the intersection.  I tell the driver that rule number 7 for taking a driving test is to never to hit a pedestrian.  She asks, "Is that really a rule?" and I say "Sure"  A little later I add,  "And you know what rule number 1 is?  Don't hit the driver examiner in the parking lot."  I really wanted to add that the State provides two booklets for passing the driving test.  One is called WHAT EVERY DRIVER SHOULD KNOW and the other is called HOW TO PASS YOUR DRIVING TEST.  But driving examiners have authored their own booklet called RULES THAT LET STUPID PEOPLE STILL PASS THEIR TEST.  However, I thought I spotted Oswaldo behind a lamp pole and got distracted.

I ask the driver if she is still attending school and she tells me that she is going to a police academy this summer and that later on she wants to study law enforcement and become a K9 officer.  After agreeing that is a wonderful idea I add that few people know that there are K10 officers who use pigs instead of dogs. A pre-requirement for getting into the program is that you have to come from the country and been involved in 4H.  "Pigs actually have a better sense of smell that dogs" I tell her.  "The only problem is that sometimes officers become a little embarrassed when the pigs stick their heads out the cruiser windows, tongues hanging out and going 'WEE, WEE, WEE!' ".  At this point the driver was either trying to slap me but more likely was attempting to point out where she thought Oswaldo was.

We are about ready to get on the freeeway and she asks if the highway speed here is 70.  "I really need to drive careful on the freeway" she says to herself.  Helpfully I tell her that is a good idea and that I don't even tell any jokes while taking people on the highway.  "Wouldn't want anyone to crack up on the freeway."  Not cracking up she agrees that yes, it really is important to concentrate here.  We have a nice excursion at 52 mph but I do not spot Oswaldo.  Perhaps he was in one of the 100 cars that speed past us, left side, right side those 2 miles.

Getting off the freeway and on our way back I ask the required question about what would be the safest object to hit if she went off the road and had to choose something.  Because she was stumbling with the answer I add, "Would it be better to hit a tree or a bush?"  She tells me that she certainly wouldn't hit a bush.  "And why not?" I ask.  "Because there might be someone hiding in that bush." she tells me.  Of course.  It must be Oswaldo! 

A Firm Foundation

Early on after asking Jesus into my life I was blessed to be able to read books by men such as M.R. DeHaan, DeVern Fromke, Watchman Nee, Clarance Larkin,  Derek Prince and others.

In books such as PORTRAITS OF CHRIST IN GENESIS and THE CHEMISTRY OF THE BLOOD DeHaan showed me that Jesus was present in a very real way throughout the Old Testament and that every word in scripture had meaning and purpose.

The books Fromke wrote, UNTO FULL STATURE and THE ULTIMATE INTENTION taught me to look at things from God's perspective.  He has a higher purpose for this world and our life than we can imagine.

Watchman Nee showed me that in all things and all circumstances I need to trust that God loves me and still has a plan for my life.

Larkin in DISPENSATIONAL TRUTH presented a framework for understanding both prophecy and many other major themes presented in scripture.

And Prince had a 5 booklet series on the basics of Christian belief.  How do we understand a verse or paragraph in scripture?  We look at the first mention of a word or a theme, how it builds up and develops as scripture progresses, what is it's intended meaning to the reader and what is the Holy Spirit saying through it to us today.  That provides balance.

These men belonged to different denominations but they all had something in common.  They loved Jesus.  They loved the Word of God.  They saw the Creator's fingerprints everywhere.

One of the main plans of the enemy has always been to dilute and distort, to attack and destroy the Word of God.  Many of the major denominations of today, dispute their grand histories, are imploding because they have stopped building on a firm foundation.  They don't preach Jesus.  They don't preach The Word.  There is no fear of God in those hallowed halls.

But I testify to this.  I know that my Redeemer lives!  I've found peace and comfort, chastisement and direction, guidance and hope because He is infused throughout the Bible.  He is there when I quiet my life to listen.  He is there when I praise Him for His love and for His mercy.  And I have a deep assurance that He is even there when I go through times not sensing His presence.

And I also testify to this.  That nothing put up in opposition to Him will stand! 

Product Warranty

A trusty calculator that I've used the last 30 years for business and personal needs finally bit the dust this week.  For the last few years I've needed to get the cord kinked just right to power the sucker but shortly after our move no amount of kinking will do.  I had a little free time yesterday because someone did not show up for their test so I wandered over to the nearby Office Max to see what they had.

Finding a solar powered model with big keys, an easy to read slanted number display and for goodness sake an actual  =  key, all for only 8 bucks, I bring it up to the counter with a big smile on my face.  The cashier rings up my purchase and then asks if I want the warranty on the item which will only cost $4.95.

"A $4.95 warranty for a eight dollar adding machine?" I reply.  "No, I don't think so."

"OK" she says and then tells me that if I call the toll free number on the receipt and answer a short survey that I will receive a five dollar credit on my next purchase at Office Max.

I tell her: "Great!  That makes it a 3 dollar adding machine."

Not fazed in the least the cashier shoots back;  "Honey, now maybe you can afford that warranty."

Last week I had the pleasure of wadding through a purchase at Art Van, a giant Michigan furniture and TV retailer.  It was 8 pm on a Friday night and Jackie and I were the only customers in the store.  There were 5 male salesmen sitting and chatting in the recliner section and the lone female hustles over to help.

We were looking for a small dinning table we heard about that had drop leaves and that should fit perfect in the small dinning area next to our kitchen.  And best of all, the price was very good.  Seeing it up front we checked it out and it was indeed what we were looking for.  We picked out the finish, added two matching chairs and thought we could have the lady ring us up and we would be on our way. 

Well, this is 2014 and nothing is as I remembered it.  "Do you want to purchase the warranty on the set?" I am asked by our sales lady.  "No" I reply.  "No warranty".  She finishes up the order on her large computer screen and then calls her manager over, a young guy half her age.  He leans over the screen, mumbles to us that he sees we ordered such and such a table with such and such a finish and two side chairs with blah, blah, blah and then looks sternly at us and asks if we want the warranty.  "You really should get the warranty" he says, shaking his head in agreement with his statement.

But at this point I'm thinking to myself several other thoughts.  "Has buying furniture become like buying a car, you get up sold at the close by the guy who really makes the profit for the dealer?  Are the table and chairs I'm buying a piece of crap that needs a warranty.  I mean, this isn't something like the glass on your smart phone that will break at least once a year and cost you $130 to repair.  This is furniture.  Our family  was in the furniture business.  One brother still is.

My dad in his early sales years once brought a sample of a small end table chest with him on the road.  He would place it in front of the furniture buyer, pound his fist on the top and remark, "Look at this, solid as a rock!"  Did that to a decorator at a design studio one day and got the reply;  "Oh, I don't know.  It looks a little clunky bunky to me."

But I just smile at the junior manager and say;  "No, no warranty."

We pick it up the next week, assemble the table legs and chair legs and seats.  This reminds me of something I saw on FB recently.  A priest looks at the items on the table in front of him.  There is a wood cross, a metal Jesus with his feet together and arms stretched out, a hammer and three nails.  The priest thinks, "Maybe I shouldn't have bought this at IKEA."  Now that's truth brother. 

The table and chairs look great in their spot.  Solid but not clunky bunky at all.  If I happen to sit on the chair one day and it falls apart I'll just have to place the parts in front of the Art Van store with a large sign that says;  "Get the warranty - Piece of crap!" 

Point, Counter Point

With working, working on our house getting ready to move, moving, working some more on our house, working again, arraigning stuff after the move and then sleeping when I can, with all that I find that I have neglected this dear blog.

Not that there hasn't been interesting stuff going on.  We moved in after tearing out the old kitchen counter tops which took the sink and cook tops with it but before installing the new counter tops.  The inspector lady from the city said this would not be a problem,  Just email her a photo when complete.  So Wednesday Jackie's sister Janet and our brother-in-law Rick came over to help with the project.

Janet is the oldest female child in a family that has 9 other brothers and sisters and is used to getting her way, so when she insisted on climbing into the cabinets to work the special clamps that make the main joint look great we didn't argue.  In fact this gave Jackie a chance to duplicate something she had seen on TV, thinking the worst that could happen would be that she would have two sisters named Janet.

Janet was able to climb in through the top but gave little thought as to her escape route.  We put the two large sections on and Janet worked the clamps expertly.  Thoughtfully we provided Janet with a towel to keep any dripping glue out of her eyes but it seems that she missed a spot or two and couldn't move afterward, making it even more difficult to get out from under.  I was out chiseling old glue off the underside of the sink and did not see this happen so I do not accept any responsibility in the matter.

As you can see, the counter tops turned out great.  We still need to build some cabinet doors and paint and we are leaving a slot below the cook top so Janet can get something to eat or drink from time to time.  We have always thought it was great to have family so close.

Imagine

Imagine there's a heaven

It's easy if you try

And you don't get to go there

It makes me want to cry

Imagine all the people

dying in the world today

They a a a a they all need themselves a Savior

and you know there's only One

Someone who truly loves us

God's only begotten Son

Someone whose given

His    pure   life    for    yours

Oh oh oh oh

Oh you can try your hardest

to love your fellow man

Place flowers in a rifle

and lend a helping hand

And you may try to do it

all   on   your   very    own

Oh oh oh oh

Oh we all need a Savior

and you know there's only One

Someone who truly loves us

God's only begotten Son

Someone whose given

His    pure    life   for    yours

Oh oh oh oh

You may say that I'm a dreamer

but I'm not the only one

Come and know my Lord Jesus

So the world can be as one

Names

One of the people scheduled for me today was listed as Gage Wing Wing so I was quite surprised when the person showed up and he was not Chinese.  Young Mr. Wing was white but the listing of Wing Wing was an error.

I thought it was an error when I noticed earlier this week that someone had the first name XYZ, middle initial Z and the last name was Dutch.  Little blond, blue eyed XYZ arrived.  I introduced myself and then never used her first name, not quite sure if I should call her X Y Z, which seemed a bit awkward, or if I should call her Exwhyz, which would have embarrassed both of us if I was wrong.  Although I was dying to know why her parents had their grand idea I figured that she had to endure the confusion of her name forever so I gave her a break and didn't ask.

I also didn't ask the young man whose name was Mountain Whinery the origin of his moniker.  It would be kinda cool to see a big, raw bone and bearded lad climb out of his pick up truck but the kid was a skinny 5'3 and drove a Volvo.  His dad got out of the car, promptly went over and sat on our white plastic chair and played with his phone until we returned.  "I passed" said Mountain to his dad.  "Way cool" his dad replied.

Usually names are a dead give away for me to know what to expect before the person shows up.  About half the people in Vietnam have the last name of Nguyen, so that's the way the win blows there.  About 100 per cent of people from Punjab have the last name Singh and wear a little turban.  There was a Hispanic women last week whose first name was Doreteo.  Hopefully her chips will play better when I retest her tomorrow.

People from India have names like Rameshkumar Venkatachalam, a test subject last week.  "Call me Ram" he said, and I complied.  Hispanic people often have 4 names with hyphens in between but many countries apparently don't believe in middle names which I find somewhat disturbing.  Still trying to figure that one out.

A young black college student came today.  He was 6'7" tall and his first name was Aron.  Right off I remarked that if he played for the NY Yankees people would call him A Ron.  Aron responds, "Hmm, really?"  Not a baseball fan I guess.

OK, let me check my schedule for the rest of the week.  Last name Walker, black.  First name Doreteo, Hispanic, first name Phu, Vietnamese.  First name Chase, white.  Last name Diaz, Hispanic.  First name Jaliva, black.  First name Madison, white.  First name Nicole, last name Dutch, white.  First name Milagro, Hispanic.  First name Lyric, last name English, white.  First name Van, last name looks Indonesian.  First name Drew, white.  First name Brian, white.  First name Phong, Vietnamese.  First name Santhosh, Indian.  Last name Reyes, Hispanic.  First name Jesus, Hispanic (this is a retest.  Yes, I failed Jesus!)  First name Danielle, last name Dutch, white.