unfinished entry

It was a Wednesday night, our weekly fellowship time after small group. They were all just hanging out and talking, as usual. Someone was joking around with someone else, trying to convince them to believe something that wasn't true. They were having fun, just being kids. When the person "fell for it" everybody laughed. Well, almost everybody.
There was one boy that didn't laugh. He knew that his friend hadn't been telling the truth. And he wasn't to ashamed to speak up.
That boy rose to his feet and boldly stated this simple fact, "that was a lie."
All eyes were suddenly upon him. The look on each face was bored and slightly amused at his childishness. "Are you serious?" was the question that each expression begged.
But he just looked at them all. Not backing down in the face of their silent criticism. His steady gaze challenged them and they began to find their defense.
"Oh come on, it was just a joke. It doesn't matter." They all said. "It wasn't really a lie. You're just being picky."
But he wouldn't be persuaded. Once again he spoke, quietly and firmly, "It says in the Bible that lying is wrong."
That's all he said. It was all he needed to say. He had made his point.
My heart glowed with pride as I listened to him. He was so strong. He has always been strong. But I knew that being strong just wasn't enough. He needed to walk with God. He needed to be humble and to obey. His self-sufficient strength troubled me. He stood tall, head up and shoulders back. He was the type who wanted respect. He was the type who got it. But what good is respect? What good is a reputation? I wanted so badly to see a love for his Savior in his life. I wanted to know that he had what really mattered.
And now here he was, boldly proclaiming truth. Saying what everyone else thought was silly and yet he was not ashamed. I smiled and breathed a quiet prayer of thanks. This was what I wanted to see in his life. It was a relatively small stand but I was encouraged by it. Something had broken through his tough exterior. Something had made him willing to expose himself to laughter. And that something was truth.
Years have passed and that night is but a distant memory. I hardly know him anymore. What I do know of him saddens me. He left us so slowly, but so steadily. He made new friends. He got a job. He went to church less and less. He had troubles at home. And he walked away.
My heart breaks for him. My prayers are for him. Father, if you are willing, bring him back someday. Draw him to Yourself. Let him know that he is loved. Give him grace to repent, Lord, and also strength to forgive. Father, please soften his heart and give him a love for You. Help him to know Your peace. Bring him back to that night, Lord, and cause Him to stand upon the Rock.

free, i long to be free. i long for the day that i see and all You say You'll do in me is true. it's hard for me do do, it's hard for me to die to myself and trust my life to someone else so come, empty me out, i'm nothing without You inside of me. come and fill my heart with hope. come and fill my life with love. come and fill my soul with strength to carry on because from here the climb is steep the road is long. come and fill my days with dreams. empty me off all the empty things that i hold on to, come anf ill my heart with You.

SEARCH ME LORD, TRY MY HEART. COME AND TAKE ME NOW AND MAKE ME NEW SO THAT ALL OF THE WORLD WILL SEE YOU. OVERFLOW IN MY LIFE.

You are my oxygen, i breathe you in, i breathe you out.

all that i need is you. always forever with You. i feel Your love and I realize that all i ever needed as You, just you. once in a while a dream will come true. a moment in time created by You. things less important start falling away. there's a trugh down inside me and i hear my heart say. ALL THAT I NEED IS YOU>

Father, i need you. come and fill my heart with your peace. i thank you for hearing my every prayer and holding my life in your sovereighn hands. You are good to me and even when I walk through hards times, when i can't see the road in front of me and don't know where the path will lead, you are there. i'm not even sure of the next step to take, much less where it leads, but you guide me. help me to trust that you'll guide me. help me to look to You and lean on Your ways and not follow my own understanding. take my yolk from my shoulders and give me yours, for it is easy and the burden is light. i am but a child. help me to trust my Daddy.

Part 4

“What do you mean I can’t?” I errupted in a storm. “Take me back to the river at once! I have to find a way to get up that cliff and get back to the palace, I have important work to do. My country is on the verge of war. I was delivering a peace proposal when I got lost in that blasted storm and ended up here. If I don’t get back soon and set things straight there’s going to be a major war between Grimsdale and Beckonridge and it’s going to be my fault! I’ll lose my job and probably be banished from the kingdom in disgrace. Please, it’s important, I must get back.”

“You cannot return,” he told me again.

This little guy was exasperating. He just didn’t seem to get it. Nevertheless, I was dependent on him and so I calmed myself and asked a simple question, “Why can’t I go home?”

“I’m sorry,” he began, and once again deep sadness flashed across his face. “The way to your land is impassible. The cliffs are inhabited by creatures that devoure all who attempt to climb them.”

“Isn’t there some other way?” I asked in panick and disbelief.

“None.”

“Them I’m stuck here for good? Just great. No offense to you or anything, but this is NOT what I was planning on. I’ve got a life to get back to.”

“A family?”

“Well no, not really a family. My parents died when I was young and I was left as a servant in the palace. But the Queen took a liking to me, expecially after her own son died, and she took me in and raised me as a son. I’m an important official now and I have a lot of responsibilities to attend to. People are depending on me.”

“It is impossible to return. You must now make the best of what you have left.”

“Yeah sure, Mr. “Optomistic.” Just make the best of it. Well that’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything.”

His eyes flashed in pain and anger as I made that last statement. Clenching his jaw, he muttered, “You know nothing of my life,” and then disappeared through what was apparently the enterance to the dugout we were in.

Adventures in Gladtidings, land of the Trompklins: continued

I woke to the sound of birds singing but when I opened my eyes it was still dark. Puzzled, I sat up to look around. It seemed to me that I was in a cave of some sort, though I could not think how that was possible. After all, we had been in the woods, surrounded only by trees. No, of course not, it couldn’t be a cave for the ground beneath me was dirt. So I must be underground somewhere, I reasoned to myself. Just as I had reached this conclusion a shaft of light entered the dugout and presently Flinderbeck dropped in. I asked him about this curious place and he replied that we were “beneath the tree.” Not knowing exactly what this meant, but sensing that Flinderbeck was not in the mood for the endless stream of questions I could have asked, I remain quiet and simply waited for what would happen next. He busied himself preparing breakfast, which consisted of a warm, mushy substance, much like oatmeal, topped with an assortment of fresh berries. While he worked I began to wonder how soon I could make it back to the king’s courts. Perhaps this Trompklin would be willing to show me the way back to this river after breakfast. I was extremely grateful for his help and hospitality, but I was ready to get home.

“Come. Eat.” His voice interrupted my thoughts of home. Suddenly aware of my hunger, I thanked him and eagerly ate the food he provided. When we had finished I helped him clean the few dishes we had used. The process was simple. Flinderbeck wet a rag in a bucket of water and wiped the dishes clean, then handed them to me to dry and put away. The beautifully carved dishes were all unique and creatively carved. Flinderbeck stored them in a sturdy looking wooden box. It was obvious that they were very special.

Handing me the spoon that I had eaten with, Flinderbeck broke the prolonged silence by saying, “This was my brother’s.” There was sadness in his voice as he offered this small hint to his past.

Curious, and suddenly feeling very sympathetic to this lonely creature, I ventured to ask what had happened to this brother of his.

“Dead,” he replied.

“I’m Sorry.”

After brief pause he took the spoon from me and put it away, then lovingly closed the box. “Come now,” he said, “we will get water.”

“Are we going back to the river?” I asked. “You have been very kind to me and I am grateful, but I should very much like to go home.”

Once again he startled me with the bluntness of his reply: “I’m sorry. You can’t”