May I Introduce Myself? I'm nearly seventy-seven years old, How I ever got this old mystifies me! I know the person that lives inside my body is only about forty years old, and feels great.

My Blog is a combination of several things, a journal, a history lesson for my family, right down to my two week old great grandson, and a place to publish my lessons learned from God. These short devotions can each be read in a minute, so I have entitled them,"Just A Minute"

A City On A Hill

A City on a Hill

You are the light of the world. A City on a hill cannot be hid. Mt. 5:14

Our lives should be a billboard proclaiming,
“Jesus is alive!
Come drink at the well that never runs dry.”
Sadly, our life’s billboard to the world is often blank.
We say “Yea!” to the pastors and missionaries.
We attend church and put money in the plate.
But we have no personal mission.
It is not just the brave missionaries who are planted far away,
Or our pastors who have dedicated their lives to serve,
We each have a personal mission.
It is here, the place where we stand at this moment.
Our mission field is important to God’s plan.
It requires bravery, courage, boldness and dedication.
This is the spot where we are to reveal Jesus to a troubled world.
Is our life a billboard for Christ,
Or is it a tightly sealed envelope?
Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works,
And glorify your Father which is in Heaven. Mat. 5:14

The Question: Miracle, Providence or Coincidence?

Things happen sometimes that leave you wondering long past the incident. The story of my cousin, Larry Gearhart, and his two sons is an example. I was a teenager when this occurred, and the questions still come to mind fifty years later.

Larry was a young veterinarian, successful, a good father and a Christian, not the type to cut corners where his children were involved. So when it came time for him to purchase a boat for his family to use on Lake Michigan he bought the best . It was advertised as “unsinkable”. Maybe he should have learned from the Titanic that God does not want us to dare Him with boasts about our invincibility.

Larry and his two little boys, Larry Jr., 10, and Ezra, 8, set out on their maiden voyage on a sunny Saturday morning. What could happen on a clam sunny day on the big lake? Perhaps we will never know for sure. Saturday evening approached and the boat did not return. Panic did not set in until it became dark. The Coast Guard began a search. Nothing turned up the first day and by the second day there was little hope that the little family would be found. Three days passed and all hope disappeared. Plans were contemplated for a memorial service.

It is not clear what happened to the boat, but suddenly Larry and his boys were in the water and the unsinkable boat had disappeared beneath the waves. Larry, anxious to try out his splendid unsinkable boat had not thought it necessary to get extra flotation devises. The boat had only two floating pillows. He fitted the pillows to the boys, admonished them to stay together, and then swam away from them. He told them he was going for help. It is more likely that he knew he would not be able to reach shore and he did not want the children to see him drown.

The boys clung together through the night and the next day, but during the second night they drifted apart. It is Ezra from whom we learned the rest of the story. He was able to hold on through the third day, and night, but finally on the morning of the fourth day the exhausted child uttered what he thought was his final prayer. He prayed, “God, if you are going to save me you’ll have to do it now because I can’t hold on any longer.”

At that instant he heard a voice calling to him, “Hold on son! We see you! We’ll pick you up!
A Jewish couple were out yachting that morning. As the wife sat watching the play of sunlight on the clouds and water, she saw something she had never witnessed before. A shaft of sunlight dropped from the clouds like a giant spot light highlighting Ezra bobbing in the water. They pulled the little boy from the waves and soon there was rejoicing.

Was the shaft of sun light a miracle or coincidence? I have witnessed those beautiful shafts of light hundreds of times, yet not once have I seen one fall from the sky. They just seemed to be there. I have to believe God’s hand was directing that light. Coupled with Ezra’s prayer it falls in the miracle category for me.

Miracle is defined in the dictionary as an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs.

Perhaps the shaft of light was just the simple answer to a child’s prayer, but had not Larry Jr. and his father also prayed for help to come? That we’ll never know, for their bodies were recovered days later.

Is God selective with His touches of miraculous power, or does it take a child’s heart to believe that miracles are a touch of God’s love He wants us to experience?

Miracles still do happen. They are coupled with prayer, but if they were common place we would lose our awesome respect for them.

Three miracles happened there on Lake Michigan. One little boy was plucked from the water exhausted and praising God, but Larry and Larry Jr. met their Master that day and walked into Heaven.

That miracle is available for all of us, and it is the greatest .

Jeff

Jeff was our second dog. We really should not have had him and we would not have if Bud had anything to do with it. Bud had a heart for animals, but there was a fear of losing them I think As a child he had been given a small bird, and he deeply loved it. But in one of the frequent middle of the night moves made by his desperately poor family, Bud’s bird had to be left behind. He went back to the old apartment the next day to rescue it, but it had frozen to death in the night. Bud was inconsolable and had decided never to have another pet. But now, Bud was up north deer hunting and it was Steven’s tenth birthday and there was no money for a birthday present. I had heard about a family who needed to find a home for a puppy and Jeff became ours, or I guess I should say, Steven’s.

I picked Jeff up on the afternoon of his birthday, put a ribbon around his neck and brought him home for the birthday celebration. Steven was so happy. I have a picture of him sitting on the floor in his shorts hugging Jeff. Come to think about it, they were both happy. When Bud came home from deer hunting he did not make a big fuss over it either. Bud was always kind to animals, and he got as much fun out of Jeff as the rest of us—once he got used to the idea.
Jeff had a way of winning most people over. He looked like a miniature German Sheppard. He had sparkling, intelligent eyes, and a sweet mischievous nature. Our neighbors did not think he was so sweet though. In particular there was one neighbor who just hated all dogs, but especially Jeff. For some reason I think Jeff knew this because when it came time for him to go potty he would go right over to their lawn and deposit it there. That woman reported him to the dog catcher on numerous occasions, and he then had to be retrieved from the dog pound. That was not only a nuisance but it was expensive too. The children were beginning to build up a pretty good case of anger towards her. I over-heard them dreaming up the ways they might get even with her and figured it was time for me to step in.

I sat them down and explained that she had every right to be angry. Our dog had violated her yard. She was afraid of him and she hated the messes he made. We were at fault for not keeping him penned u p or at least on a lead. “It’s time we apologize and make things right with her” I told the kids.

They were not much in favor of that plan but I went ahead anyway. I baked a cake and decorated it with a big, “We’re Sorry”. Then, with all four of them in tow we went up to her door, gave her the cake and pledged to try and keep Jeff in our own yard. She was warily gracious, and we did not have to rescue Jeff from the pound again. She moved away soon after that.
The police gave Jeff a good deal of attention too. When a female dog came into heat Jeff was more than willing to accommodate her, no matter what end of town she happened to live in. It was almost impossible to keep him tied up at those time. He would slip away as soon as the door would open and dash away. Then just as quickly he’d be scratching at the back door breathlessly, and strike an innocent pose on the living room rug when the police came knocking at the front door. There were a lot of dogs around town that resembled our Jeff.

Jeff lived to be an old dog but he never lost his taste for romance. Once, in a passionate dash across the street he was struck by an automobile. It was a sad day. The person who hit him brought his limp form up to the porch. I was sure he was not going to make it, but Kathleen decided she was not going to give up on him. She placed him on a blanket and patiently fed him water with an eye-dropper for several days. Slowly he began to recover. At first he could only lift his head, then finally he got to his feet with trembling weakness and limped to the door. We let him out thinking of course that he would be ready for a potty break, but that was not the case. That old dog, on weak and buckling legs made his way across the street where his lady fair was patiently waiting for him.

After his first accident he never fully recovered his speed and agility, and on a frigid January night he was hit a second time and killed instantly. I think that it was Tommy McCarthy who helped to bury him.