PSALM 141:3

I was seeking a door to show this verse, because my mouth is a constant battle and I often hope the door of my lips will remain closed, before I embarrass or hurt someone.  I looked at the photos from a various number of my traveling locations.  Saw many lovely doors in many countries, states, homes.  However, couldn't see a door that would reveal it the truthful way.

Then I saw this.  During our tourism, we were leaving the Tower of London.  While on a boat on the Thames, taking this photo, that sign placed right at the top of the river has always been a toucher.  What does it say? 

 "Enter To The Traitor's Gate."

This gate was built in the 1200s.  For several hundred years, that is how the Kings, wanting to maintain their power, ordered that the prisoners -- usually monarchs, political or military leaders -- be swept to the Tower to be kept either forever or to be executed.  The prisoner, whether truly accused or not, while entering that gate was labeled "traitor".

When I saw this today, I realized that when I open my mouth and spew hard and harsh comments out through my lips, I can be a labeled as a traitor.  If I orally storm outside of the love, joy, peace, self-control, and good-straightforwardness of my King, I am a traitor to Him. 

So Psalm 141:3 truly is my desire, a prayer through my heart, soul, and spirit:

  Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; 

keep the door of my lips.    

PLEASE!

MARY MAGDALENE -- CHAPTER 2

The first time Jesus noticed Mary, it was merely an awareness of her presence.  He didn't see her with his eyes, but he knew she was in the crowd.  His spirit was always attuned to the cry of a desperate heart. 

As usually happened when Jesus appeared, people pressed into him on all sides.   A woman, holding a young child, cried out "Jesus...Jesus... over here", and immediately the crowd separated to form a path.  He stopped.  Suddenly, eye-to-eye with her, they were alone.  

"What is it, Woman?" he asked with tenderness.  

Tears filled her eyes.  "Master. His legs.  See how bent they are?  He stumbles and falls always. My heart so hurts to watch him.  Oh, Master,  WILL you help him?"  

"Why did you come to me?"  asked Jesus.

"Sir, I have seen you heal others.  I know you care for us. For all of us."  She looked at him and her eyes had an expression of hope and love that moved his heart.
 
As everyone nearby watched, Jesus reached out his hands and placed them gently on the child.  For a few moments he stood in silence, and then aloud he said, "My Father, bless this mother and her son, and grant her request." To the amazement of all around, as he spoke, the child's legs straightened.

With tears of joy and gratitude streaming down her face, the happy mother danced through the crowd, her son in her arms.

Standing on the outer edge of the throng, Mary had listened as Jesus talked with the mother.  Mary couldn't see what was happening, but she heard the tenderness, the acceptance, the love in his voice...the eagerness to end the sadness of the family...his joy at THEIR joy...and she was stirred.

From that time onward, Mary followed Jesus, cautiously, from the distance.  She did not trust men...any man.  She agreed with the ancient observation that "the thoughts of a man's heart are only evil continually,"  and she was determined to not be deceived by another one.

But in Jesus, she had seen caring, unselfish service, love... and although she was not ready to step out from behind her wall, she was willing to wait.  To watch ... and to wait.

KABUJOGERA, UGANDA -- DAY 3 -- BABY

 Sometimes we forget, can't follow-through, because so much is on our plates.  But God prods and prods, and taps and taps ... and blesses us.

You see, Sunday evening, during the dinner time at the Volcano Arcade Hotel [always have to write the whole name, because the title makes me grin], Tim, Robert, and Israel were contacted by the local police leader who was in charge of their town, Jackson Ndungo.  He had heard we were there and he came to rededicate his life to the Lord.  He had a very serious limp after a motorcycle accident.   It SO fit right into my teaching on Sunday afternoon about "Everybody Has A Limp!"  When I drifted off to my room, The pastors told him we were going to talk to his wife Monday after the class was out.

Well, we didn't.  I hit the bed right after finishing my spiritual warfare teaching session that covered a fair amount of time that day.  Tim and the other men were taking care of the conference pastors and answering more of their questions.  Then dinner.  We all forgot this plan to go to Jackson's home.

When we realized the forgetfulness, we committed between ourselves, to go on Tuesday morning, before the service would begin.  Pastor Robert and Tim and I went to see Jackson and meet his wife.

You would have to see it to believe it.  Since Jackson was the main police officer of the village, he should have some sort of honor attached, right?  Well, in our city, and many other places, he'd have a house or nice apartment.  There, he lived in an 8 x 10 room in a compound with his wife and new baby.  It had a twin bed, a shelf, a couple of small stools, and a boom/box stereo.  Their clothes were hung on nails.  We all crammed into that little room and Tim talked with Jackson about his commitment to the Lord, answered a few of his questions, and then asked his wife, Beatrace, if she wanted to make a commitment.  Eventually, we found that she had already done so a couple years earlier, but was in a backslidden condition.  She prayed with us and rededicated her life to the Lord.  It went beautifully.

Their baby was a 3-day old girl. Jackson asked me to hold her -- not a problem, as she was a little doll -- and then Robert, on behalf of the parents, asked me to name her and dedicate her to God.  I was so blown away that it took a couple minutes to get my brain working -- had never done anything like this in my life.  Finally, the name that came to me was Hannah.  And then I prayed over her, focusing on Hannah's faith and her commitment to seek God.  I gathered it was not an easy name to say in this tribal tongue, but Jackson kept practicing and when he said "Anna" he quickly corrected himself and said "Hannah".  I was so overwhelmed by the honor, I could hardly take it in.

Sitting on a bench outside after the dedication.

AND the "official" conference day had not yet begun.  It was Am-A-zing!  When I share that one, you should grin -- and rejoice with the rest of us, too, who were involved.

==========

2006

NOW, about 4 years ago a letter was sent to us from Uganda. The address happened to be our former home, and the owners kept it at the house knowing we'd come by someday.  It was WEEKS later when Dave and I were going past and decided to pop in and see how the Schafers were doing.  They handed the envelope to us, and when I opened it, a letter and photos were there from Jackson.  The family had moved further southwest, and they were attending a Full Gospel church, the letter written in that church office.  

Jackson told about Beatrace and daughter, Hannah, whose name is now Mariam Hannah, a name easier to be spoken by family and friends.  So blessed that they kept the name.  Hope to find them again.

2007

THE STORY OF A COIN

True one.

Been a LONG TIME ago.

I lived in Redwood City, California, and my daughter was just over a year old.

During her birthday in October, she received her main birthday gift, from my dear friend, Susie, who, at that time, was in Montana.    

[Later, when we were together in Omaha ... me and my little ones, Renae and Steve, living with her family ... she became Renae's godmother at baptism.  Renae had come to the Lord personally and was now 6.  What a blessing it was to have Renae and Susie together in that way; never would have thought it could happen when I lived in California!]

Anyhow, as warm as it was in October, 1970, it wasn't when this next event, which the story's about, was heading for winter.  

You see, I was walking in the downtown area and had Renae on my back in a baby carrier.  In those days, those carriers were much heavier than today, believe me.  But she was fitting in well, riding happily, looking all around.  OH, and she was wearing a wintery jacket and covered with her hood.  The hood had a fur trim, right across her forehead.

As walking, I glanced and saw a quarter.  As a knee-jerk person, as I've described myself before, I bent over immediately to grab it.  

OOPS!!

Renae flew out of the carrier and over my head and hit the sidewalk, headfirst for her, bouncing on her forehead.  Did she scream?  Oh, yes.  Pain?  Not so much.  Fear?  LOTS!!

Why not much pain?  God was very sweet.  An angel must have been there to pop her right on the fur trim of her hood.  Very, very slight red mark on her forehead as a result.

Did others see me?  I don't remember.  Hope not many.  No one screamed at me or dialed 911 [which, of course, wasn't possible in those days].

Now, this seem crazy?  Yes.  But totally unreasonable?  No.  Here's why.

We were pretty poor compared even to others.  In those days, rarely did business administrators make more than $600 a month in the San Francisco area. The average person was earning about $350 a month. We made about $200.

When I saw the quarter, I knee-jerked for some good reasoning ... regarding money, not my daughter on my back.

Costs:  $.25-.36 for a loaf of bread; $.28 for a McDonald's hamburger; $.33 for a quart of milk; $.80 for a pound of hamburger; $.59 for 4 pounds of apples; $.10 for 1 lettuce.

How could I not try for a loaf of bread?  [And at one cheap store it was only $.10 for a pound of margarine.  The store clerk, when checking me out, and I was 10 cents shy with my few things and setting the margarine aside, because I couldn't afford it, this young man put it back with my bread, peanut butter, baby foods, and tossed in a dime from his pocket.  What a blessing!!]

AND, when Renae was 2 years old it was $.25 for a gallon of gas.

Life has changed for many of us, and I can't do the same today ... no young 'uns I'd have on my back .. and I probably wouldn't risk lives to grab a quarter, or anything else.  BUT, if I see a $5 bill on the sidewalk, I might very quickly reach for it very fast with my cane and slam it solidly.  Ain't no one gonna grab it first! 

PSALM 30:5

Yes...it...does!

 HALLELUJAH!!

KABUJOGARA, UGANDA - DAY 2

Leaders at the hotel dinner break

With everything that happened on Sunday, I was totally unprepared for the wonders that awaited me on Monday.
 
To begin with: It was the first day of the Believers’ School of Ministry Spiritual Warfare Conference. Pastors and others had come from villages up in the hills and mountain areas, some on bikes, others on the backs of trucks with piles of people or junk or animals – or all three mixed together.   Amazingly, these members had only to pay the equivalent of 75 cents for their week of schooling, and that was for cost of the copy of the materials.  Food and housing were up for them to arrange, most of which was provided by the church families, none of whom had much either.  Without that extremely low cost, very few of them could have come. They came once a month for five days of classes and had to set aside shillings during those weeks at home to afford the materials.  The sacrifices these people made were incredible -- and I expect it's much the same today.

I was the teacher for the day and the main topic was Spiritual Mapping which I had been doing for several years; while there, I taught the basics.   Tim wanted me to give examples and practical guidelines.  I spoke from 11:00 to 1:30 and we broke for lunch.  At 2:45 I began again and went until 4:30. 

In the morning, they didn’t ask questions.  But after lunch, I was asked some good ones about what they should look for in their villages. [They must have talked to each other during lunch-time together while hanging out in the church yard.] With their questions, we talked a lot about dedicating houses and property to idols and how to break those oaths. This was very real to these people, because nearly every structure had been dedicated with the sacrifice of a chicken.  They hadn’t necessarily accepted as a special event, but for generations it was simply done.  Now, while growing in the Lord, they had become uncomfortable with this, truly realizing it was ungodly.  Tim and I and others were able to encourage them to turn away from that generational pattern.  

Pastors, Watchers, Thinkers, Sharers

Another aspect that was discussed at length was what they could expect when the curses are broken off the land and the principalities are exposed.  The example of Almolonga, Guatemala, fit into that question and was happily described to encourage them.  A few more questions were asked about their area of witchcraft and deliverance, but I let the leading pastors handle that.  However, overall, I really had a ball. 

 

Tim took these two photos from the back of the church and, obviously, pushed the button as I seemed to be choking myself when describing something about spiritual warfare.  Who knows what I was thinking, saying, when the photo was taken?  I don't.  But still laugh when I see the "teacher" picture of me.   What a hoot!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I DID tell them, several times, that spiritual mapping is not something to do without authority or cover.  I encouraged these pastors to support and bless their “underground” studiers and provide intercessory support for them.  I also told them all that very few of them are called to be "mappers", because an army needs very few spies, but a wise general in a battle relies on his intelligence reports, and, spiritually, that is what mappers may provide. Somewhere in here we talked about how to determine the character of the tribal idolatry/principality, and not to be satisfied with just a general all-inclusive rebuke.  I used my visual of shotgun prayer vs. laser prayer.  I don’t know just how that got interpreted, but they seemed to understand.  We also discussed corporate repentance, forgiveness, and  remitting sins.  Quite a lot, actually. 

When we finished I was an exhilarated wet rag, if that’s possible.  Around 5, after ending, closing with a worship song or two,  I went back to the hotel for a l..o..n..g nap.

And spent the evening resting and looking over the balcony at the skies ... and feeling BLESSED!!

 

PSALM 29:3

THE VOICE OF THE LORD IS UPON THE WATERS: ...

THE LORD IS UPON MANY WATERS.

AND I REJOICE WHEN HE SPEAKS THROUGH OUR WORLD WATERS ...

 THROUGH OCEANS, RIVERS, LAKES, BROOKS, STREAMS ...  

I TRULY CAN, AND I DO, REJOICE OVER AND OVER AGAIN!!