Fight The Hands

And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country,
Luke 15:13

Screaming I break loose from his hands.Fighting, I get away, jumping from his lap. I run as hard as I can paying no attention to where I'm going.
To a four year old, my only thoughts are how I feel in the moment. Tears run down my face mixing in with the rain outside. I stop when I can't see
my house anymore. The spring raindrops make it hard to tell how far I've ran. All I know is I escaped. I wanted that toy and that's all that mattered.
I'm somewhere in a pasture, but I can't tell which way is back home. I'm lost. No moon or stars in the sky to give me light.
The storm worsens as the wind starts to pick up. I can barely stand on my feet. Lightning flashes some illumination so I can see briefly. All I can make out is
dark shapes off in the distance. My heart feels as though it pounds harder with each rumbling of the thunder.Barreling head long, I take flight as fast as I can go.
My feet go sliding on the wet ground. I find myself sliding into a gigantic mud hole. The shapes of the people looking for me are moving further away. I crawl out
of the mud yelling the whole time.
"Here I am, here I am,"my voice shrills.
No way they can hear me over the sound of the storm. I have to reach them.
Adrenaline kicks in and I make my way to the shadowy people. Only their not people, just cattle huddling together under an old tree for shelter.
"What do I do now? They will never find me. Why had I wanted that stupid toy so bad? Why did I act like that when Daddy told me know? Now I will never
see them my family again," my small mind wondered.
So I plopped down on the wet ground a lost boy with no family. Water from the rain and tears from my troubled heart filled my eyes to the point I could no longer make out anything.
And as I sat on my soggy pants, so sure my little world had come to an end, I heard a voice.
"You ready to go home,son?"
I turned to see the one I struggled so hard to get away from. He held out the hands that I had pushed away. Unsure for awhile if I would ever see those hands
again. No longer was I rebellious boy throwing a temper tantrum. I was a wet and sorrowful sight of a little boy, who just wanted to go home to his family. His hands
reached down to pick up his trembling, frightened son.
Now I stand out in the spring rains again. This time I am a man. I let the drops of water streak down my face. Feeling the cool moisture on my skin. And I recall how it felt back
then. Despite it all, I still fight the Hands that try to hold me. Running wildly into the darkness and confusion of my own heart. Chasing shadows and phantoms while the
thunder rolls on in the chambers of my soul. My soul yearns for the silence from the storms of this life. My soul longs for the feeling I felt back then. When my father's
hands came to carry me home.
Dear Father,
I am the rebellious younger son in the far country. I lose sight as I did in that open field of what's important. My self-deception has blinded me to the true reality,Yours.
Unlike him, sometimes I can't find my way back, and You always come looking for me. Help me to help myself. Make in me a new heart that doesn't want to fight the hands that want to hold me
and take me home.
Amen.
by
Lance Gargus

Handwriting On The Wall

A weary mother returned from the store,
Lugging groceries through the kitchen door.
Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year old son,
Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.
While I was out playing and Dad was on a call,
T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall
It's on the new paper you just hung in the den.
I told him you'd be mad at having to do it again.
She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,
Where is your little brother right now?
She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,
She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.
She called his full name as she entered his room.
He trembled with fear--he knew that meant doom
For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved
About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved.
Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,
She condemned his actions and total lack of care.
The more she scolded, the madder she got,
Then stomped from his room, totally distraught
She headed for the den to confirm her fears.
When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.
The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.
It said, I love Mommy, surrounded by a heart.
Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,
With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.
A reminder to her, and indeed to all,
Take time to read the handwriting on the wall

For We Believe

 1 Thessalonians 4:14 For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.

This verse embodies all of my Hope, all of my Desires, all of my Dreams, and all of my Loss. For without this one small verse we have no hope. Nothing this world 🌎 can offer me, show me, sell me, or entice me with can bring me what this simple Truth can. The older I get, the more I despise the things of this world. The attraction it once had escapes me. For this is only temporal and I long for the things Paul spoke of in his Epistles that are Eternal. Things of this world has be replaced constantly. I have to constantly breathe,eat, drink, sleep, and exercise. Not by choice but by necessity. I’m always trying to fill myself with the desires of this life. It always leaves longing for more. I become thirsty, sleepy, hungry, sleepy once again. I long for the day when I see as I am seen by God. Eternal. I long for my loved ones. To see my son, dad, brother again. This verse tells me they are bringing them back to me. God is allowing His Son to bring my son back to me. Jesus will personally bring him back to me. And all my Hope rest in this because God rose His son from the dead. And He promises to raise mine. And He promises to raise your husband, your wife, your mother, your sister, your daughter, your son, your grandchild, your uncle, your aunt, your stepdad, your stepmom, your cousin, your classmate, your friend……we build upon the Living Hope, the Invisible God, the Friend to the Friendless, President of Presidents, Maker of Me, Lover of My Soul, the One who hears my heart’s cry, the only One Worthy to open the scroll- our Only Hope, the Gentle Lamb, the Lion of Judah, the Lily of the Valley, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, the Balm of Gilead, the Healer of Nations, the Prince of Peace, the Peacemaker, the Ultimate Counselor, the Comforter, the Only One Who Can Make All Things New, the Destroyer of Death and Hell, the Reliever of Pain and Suffering, and the Shoulder I Cry On Who Wipes Away My 😭 Tears………..Amen. Let it be so. Come soon Lord Jesus and bring our Treasure back to us. Our treasure- our love ones- oh they like You Sweet Jesus is the Treasure Hidden Away in You…..

Jehovah Jireh

 Jehovah Jireh. The Lord will provide. That’s easy to say when everything is dependable. It’s hard to say when you reach for that checkbook and there’s no money there. Or when the car is on empty and your trying to make it to a gas station. And the next one ain’t for miles. How about when you shoot that big buck and can’t find him? No matter how long you search. Reaching into darkness and not sure what is there. 

This is where true Faith starts. I try to patient. I try to understand. I remember the words of Shadrack, Meshack and Abindigo. Whether our God saves or doesn’t we still won’t worship the statue. Hey, let’s be real. That takes a lot of Faith. When that loved one doesn’t come home from the hospital, that job lets you go after all those years, that person tells lies about you and others believe it, or you can’t feel His presence anymore. 

I shot the biggest buck I ever killed. Big ten point. Walked up to him. Layed out on the ground. Go back to vehicle to bring it down to retrieve him. He’s gone. No blood trail. No indent in the ground.  No tracks around where he was. Like he vanished. Who knows what happened? Other hunters speculated with me. But it’s still disappointing. But God let me have the experience but not the reward. 

Cause he knows I might have took the credit and not Him. He allows me just enough of anything that’s sufficient for me. I’m not saying I ain’t hurt. But like I said in a previous post. He’s Spirit is better that a 1000 bucks hanging on the wall. 

I’m learning how to accept the experience and not the reward. Acceptance, contentment, in all circumstances. Paul learned from these examples that God was making his heart over for his heart to feel for others by his experiences…..

So that ten point buck has fattened up the coyotes as I hear them yelp. As the sunsets 🌅 I remember there will always be Jehovah Jireh the God who provides what is sufficient for me. And I can thank Him enough. Hug 🤗 Connor Gargus, my son who went on to be with Ypu, a little tighter for me Jesus as I learn to accept Your will not mine.