A Good Soldier

The lonely dark night with its mysterious sounds;
The cautious tread of the sentry making his rounds.

The distant sounds of the "big guns", their echo in the night.

The mellow full moon, hazy clouds, the twinkling starlight.

The silhouette of army tents, in a staggered "ghostly" line;

Lend themselves to the nightmare of reality and the fear in the mind.

Exhausted warriors' sleep with their dreams of their homes far away;

While at home their loved ones are also dreaming, but awake they pray.

The sentry's mind cries out in anguish from heart and from soul;
Not from fear of loss of life or other dismal prospects of the soldier's role;
But of the terrible heart wrenching thought, of not seeing loved ones again.

"Lord, please, hear me.
You know I'm not afraid of death or pain, but just one more time let me be again in my mom's embrace.
I know you will "Lord", same as you kept me thus far by your benevolent grace.
As you know, Lord, I didn't start this war nor did I want it to begin,
But I've done my duty as best I could, now help us to win.
You've kept us out of bondage by protecting us and guiding us in thy way.
Now help us to return home to walk in thy paths, therein to stay.
Bind up the wounded, relieve the oppressed, and ease those in pain.
Help us, O Lord, to always guard against the things that would lead to war again."
by
James Gargus

Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
2 Timothy 2:3

I am sure that these are thoughts that occurred to my father during WW2, serving as a young soldier so far away from home. This, also, I feel refers to other times in his life serving as a soldier of Christ.

One thing I know, his war is over and he's at home with the Victor.

Mine, though, continues on as I do my own soul searching.

Teach Me How To Let Go And Let You

Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil:the Lord reward him according to his works.

2 Timothy 4:14

Paul never mentions what exactly Alexander did to him. But he described it as Great Evil, so I take it must have been really bad. Paul was human like the rest of us, and I'm sure he became angry in his heart over this. The differences between Paul and I diverge right here. He simply states for God to deal with him. He puts it in God's hands. No more is mentioned after this in his letter. Paul I'm sure prayed for him and would probably shown him kindness if he needed it. Paul though put this all into God's care. God would deal with this situation, one way or another, he must have thought. In other words, he let it go.

We have the tendency to hold grudges. Those who have wronged us or hurt us, they stay with us as we reopen the wound so many times. Those individuals aren't hurting in the least bit by our bitterness. The only person we are hurting is ourselves. In doing so, our hearts are filled with poison. One quote I have heard is,"Holding a grudge is like taking a poison and waiting for the other person to die."

How often I feel like the lament in Lamentations 3:1-6,"I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of his wrath. He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than the light; indeed he has turned his hand against me again and again all day long. He has made my skin and flesh grow old and has broken my bones. He has besieged me and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship. He has made me dwell in darkness like those long dead."

The truth is I can't let it go. I can't let go of the hurt inflicted on me by others. He knows this, if we would only be honest with Him. I can't forgive in my own strength. Only when I lay it down at His feet everytime it pops up can I get past it. Sure I may try lugging it around for a long while, but it finally wears me down.

I must look like my little 3 year old boy to God. He will pick up something real heavy and lug it around until he just can't move anymore. At that moment, I hear,"Dada, help me." I had been watching all the time. Waiting for the right moment to assist. If I helped without him asking, he would become angry. Only when he came to the realization that he couldn't do it alone, did I come to his aid.

God is patient. Letting me wear myself out. Till I come to the point I look up at His strong arms and say,"Father, help me. I can't carry the load anymore. Teach me how to let go and let You."

by

Lance Gargus

What Is Love?

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.

Psalm 51:10

I lie in my bed soaked with sadness. Recalling the thousand upon thousands of times I've failed you, just today alone. I can't hear my one true friend anymore. This is like death to me. My tearful eyes sees that I can't do this life without you. I feel my soul within weep for you, oh, Lord. It seems as though my sadness has no end. I try to pull myself up, but I keep falling in. This downward spiral of despair tugs at me.

I wander in the wilderness with no way out, not knowing where the paths lead. The sun is going down soon. My insides shake to my core. My strength is almost gone.

As my heart breaks and shatters on the floor, I mutter a desperate plea. "Won't you come lift me?"

In times past, you lifted me up with my soul soaring over mountains high, lifting me in your own strength whispering to me your perfect word.

Now I'm down here in this valley. My soul wants to fly to you. "I can't Lord cause I have such feeble wings."

Only in this valley where you allow me to remain, do I realize a truth. "I need you, oh, Lord, I need you. I love you more than life."

by

Lance Gargus

The Wooden Bowl Story

Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
Exodus 20:12

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together nightly at the dinner table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating rather difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass often milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dinner table. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. Sometimes when the family glanced in grandfather's direction, he had a tear in his eye as he ate alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and mama to eat your food from when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.

For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled. Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day that building blocks are being laid for the child's future.

Let us all be wise builders and role models. Take care of yourself, ... and those you love, ... today, and everyday!

Author Unknown

We can't expect our childern to show love, honor and respect to us, if we don't display it to our elders, no matter what our age.

by

Lance Gargus