THE FOURTH-OF-JULY FIZZLED

This Fourth-of-July Weekend, I had the privilege of attending a grammar school graduation. The little auditorium was packed with squeaky clean Graduates and their proud parents and friends.

The ceremony began with everyone being asked to stand while eight kids on the right of the stage, with the flag held high, marched up the stairs and onto the stage. With military order they did a left face, and then took a few steps toward the center; the kid in the middle holding the big flag. The flag was then presented as everyone saluted and voiced together the salute to the flag.

The National Anthem was played and once again everyone saluted and sang together the anthem. They didn't just sing the anthem; they belted it out!

We were still standing, while another group of kids on the left marched down the other side of the auditorium, up the stairs and onto the stage to face the first group of flag bearers The second group received the flag, about faced and marched back down proudly holding the flag, while the first group on the right marched back into the auditorium.

We all were asked to be seated as the ceremony continued.

Indeed the Forth of July and patriotism go hand in hand in our great red, white and blue weekend! Or is that so?

I took the privilege of giving this story a little twist!

Surprise!

This graduation wasn't in our nation. These kids weren't saluting our flag or loudly singing our national anthem! Kids don't do that any more in our nation.

They were saluting the Mexican Flag and singing the Mexican National Anthem!

Standing proud, they sang and saluted with all their hearts!

Mexicans are patriotic! All year, 24/7, little Mexican flags are proudly waving over the humblest of shacks.

Isn't it a shame that I have to go to another nation to experience patriotic kids that are proud of their nation!

Our Fourth of July here in America simply means another Holiday! Barbecue, fireworks and sunburn.

If you don't believe it, just ask an average American kid.

Oh, I might add ... Mexicans don't come over here to be Americans, they come here to be Mexicans in America.

DOGGIE WALKERS

I live in a Condo, one in a large number of identical, status quo and politically correct condos. From my kitchen window I can see the street and walk ways. Green lawns, trees and bushes;

I have it all.

The only people action I see is dog walkers. People out walking their dogs ... and from time to time dogs out walking their owners. I walk the bay a couple of times a week and there I see more dog walkers.

Then there are the professional dog walkers taking up to six ... repeat, six dogs at a time. Chihuahuas to Dobermans old and young. These serious dog walkers and dogs generally walk slowly with a group of frustrated dogs on tangled leashes.

Oh yes! Professional walkers with their white rubber gloves and large doggie bags ... waiting for, and hoping for, the inevitable.

Now there are types. Dog types, people types and combination types.

Humans seem to want to get on with the walk while their "best friend" on the other hand ... well, he is interested in sniffing. Sniffing the grass, Sniffing the sidewalk. Sniffing the trees and bushes. Every dog is sniff oriented ... ranging from the short quick hurried sniffs to the long and thoughtful sniff.

The long thoughtful sniffer is most often jerked into reality by his owner

Some committed dog walkers are out for the walk, literally dragging their poor mutt behind ... sad and sniffless!

I notice many of the dogs today, unlike their owners, are de-balled, de-clawed, and de-flee-d ... but still happy as if they had good sense!

Doggie walk! Yipee. Sniff time! Pee time!

Yesterday I saw a sad sight. A very determined dog walker was leading his dog ... now I'm talking leading! His little dog was obviously a “has been” ... that is, he was once a male.

One thing a male or former male dog just has to do is pee on things. I mean it's in him and it's gotta get out! If something is pee-able, he will pee on it.

Sad sight ... nothing more pathetic than a dog on three legs, rear leg held high being dragged while peeing. He was hopping along on his three little legs peeing irresponsibly everywhere. Peeing in places no dog had ever pee'd on before!

Canine humiliation! Thoughtless canine cruelty!

THOSE HELD IN THE BLACK HOLE OF HELL

Admittedly we go where few go and reach down into pockets of filth! Human Jetsam! Interacting with those living in urine and vomit splashed alleys among scattered needles, bottles and old plastic sacks of paint and contact-cement.

People that come alive at night.

A smelly, dirty collection of people that no one wants to associate with, and for good reason. Who wants to invest in losers? Who wants to sow seeds in this weed patch? ... and who wants to support people who do?

Why do we go to this undeserving segment of society?

Why?

For God's sake! As Christians our light and ministry of love is meant to penetrate the darkness through the credibility earned by association with these people.

In the dark, where lights belong!

We aren't always accepted. We aren't always loved. Love and respect are earned and it isn't always easy.

And more than that, it takes time.

One thing for sure, Christians are not called to be a light seated corporally forming a candelabra of incredible divine wattage under a cross.

Indeed there needs to be a time for "church"; there is a time for worship, for meetings and Bible study" BUT there is a time that we Christians should simply BE THE CHURCH; His people scattered like salt among the world ... scattered like lights in the darkness.

God's random, yet Divine method. A method that still puzzles Theologians.

Sounds a little like the Believers back in the Antioch days. in those days Believers didn't hide in a building waiting for "seekers" ... somehow they were taught that the Church was them. (Acts 26:28)

The world could see the difference because it was obvious. And our name "Christian" began.

It's time again, that the world sees Christians in action.

I FOUND A SON I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD.

Sometimes you become a father and don't even know it ... now that doesn't sound right does it?

Follow me on this.

I saw Oskar walking up the narrow street in Grupo Mexico and pulled over to say "Hi." He smiled, came over to the car leaned into the window ... and we talked.

He wanted to thank me for being his father image and for the attention I had given him. I was the male he targeted. In his early life he had many "step-fathers" as his mother had many boyfriends. Who his actual father was, he didn't know.

When I first met young Oskar he was living on a dry hillside in a little one room shed of squalor. Small, no windows, and, of course trash. He was taking care of his little brother who stood there looking at me. His pampers were loaded and he was dirt from head to toe.

But Oskar was just a kid himself on "little brother" duty.

We became friends. He went to our Bible Club and came to camp.

One night I became his doctor. I remember that one well.

I was the last car left. We had finished our Bible Club program and I saw that the doors were locked, generator off, lights out. It was very dark as I began to pull out and head for home.

A few neighborhood teens, gang members, stopped me and they were holding young Oskar. It was dark but by my lights I could see Oskar bleeding and crying a bit.

"Hey, von" one teen yelled. "Oskars hurt!"

It seemed that he was running around in the dark with some of his friends and caught his eye-lid on the barbed-wire and it cut the eyelid completely across and the top part of his eyelid was just hanging.

Oh boy! What do you do in a situation like that? Take him to the Mexican Red Cross? Those intern doctors would ruin the kids eyelid. He really needed a specialist. A plastic surgeon. No way at that time of night to get a specialist in Tijuana!

Time for a quick prayer and common sense.

I grabbed a flashlight, tube of Neo-Sporin, some Kleenex and we went to Oskar's house. He was twelve, a Mexican and he didn't cry much.

Oskar's mother opened the door and looked a bit startled. "Where'd his bed" we asked. Oskar's bed was an old door in the corner with a blanket over it. We laid the boy down. I found another blanket and fashioned it like a pillow and told him to just relax and close is eyes. His mother was holding the candle.

(No electricity in all of Grupo Mexico at that time. )

Wetting some Kleenex I carefully washed around the bad eye and very carefully pushed his torn eyelid up to butt against his top eyelid. Held it for a short time. It stayed there. It held! PTL!

I told his mother to stay there and watch all night while he slept, in case he would move around or place his hand to his eye as he slept. It was not to be touched, his head was not to move!

As I look back ...

I hadn't washed my hands. The water was Tijuana tap water. No gloves. No antibiotics. Candle light.

Just God.

I left with a prayer that Oskar's eyelid would heal. Driving home I fought my doubts.

It worked! Today you can't even see a scar.

Oskar's a Christian. He has a wife and son and a small business there in Groupo and still has that wonderful smile.

Nice to stop and get thanked by a "son" I didn't know I had.

ORPHAN'S SHOES

Last night at the orphanage I sat on the bed while Gabriel, four, was putting on his pajamas. I grabbed his bare foot and tickled it, he laughed and pulled it away.

I tried helping him put on his socks, but he pulled his foot away and said "I can do it!" and he slowly and sloppily put both of his socks on ... four year old style.

Then he handed me his shoe.  Now that was a challenge he couldn't muster. And I found out why. His shoelaces were all knotted up, and it took a while for me to un-knot the shoe laces.

He watched me rather impatiently.

Then it was time to get his foot and sloppy sock into this small shoe. Force balanced with patience.  Indeed this was a double challenge. His foot just didn't want to go into the very small shoe, I stretched the shoe and widened it, pulled the tongue up and finally forced his foot into it. The second shoe seemed to go on a bit easier ... then I re-tied both shoe laces. He stood up, looked at me, smiled and he was off ... doing things a four-year old boy in P.J's does!

PEPE IS GETTING A NEW BODY!

Here he is sitting happily in "his new body" a card-board prototype!

Oh, how I wish I could give him a real new body ... hopefully God will give him his new body in the future. (Pray for this.)

This is a cardboard mock-up body ... hopefully, little by little, we'll turn it into a cute little car (Blue) with lights and a horn. (He steers it by push-buttons.) This card-board body will sit on his little moveable platform.

I just wanted to see how it fit him.

He likes his MP ... moveable platform. It fits a small boy in a small room. He can spin it in a circle, and that helps.

I first met Pepe about eight years ago, in Zona Norte. Hortensia took me to visit him. Their home (or room) was almost as small as baby Pepe. Just one small, dark room.

When I saw the baby, I knew there was something terribly wrong ... but we could do nothing about it.

I remember when he was about seven ... when the doctors told him he would never walk. No, he would never play football. He would never be a normal boy.

He was depressed for days.

But Pepe bounced back.

I remember him learning how to slowly write and draw. Ever so slowly. But he persisted.

I remember when he excitedly told me he won a dance contest in school ... Dance contest? "Yeah, watch," and he jerked around and beat his legs to the rhythm of the dance music.

I guess dance is just how you look at it.

And the time he told me he could run? Run? "Yeah, watch me" ... and he rolled fast across the floor ... and popped up with a big smile.

Yesterday he didn't want us to carry him into his bedroom, there was about a nine inch step up to the bedroom ... "watch! I'll get up myself" ... and he did!

Pepe hasn't a lot of body ... but he has a lot of guts.

And a big smile!

P.S. Here are a video of Pepe playing in his cart ...

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?

If I'm trying to compensate my failure to DO THE WORD, by reading and studying even more of The Word, am I not deceiving myself and placing myself in jeopardy of Divine judgment?

If I know the word, yet fail to act on what I know ... how is knowing more and yet doing less, going to benefit His Kingdom? It isn't.

Isn't it strange that His mandate can some how get to the head and even to the heart ... yet never filter down to the feet?

Am I not condemning myself by gaining more knowledge that I fail to act on? Will I indeed be judged by that very knowledge?

Can I compare knowledge to fuel? What's the reason to store fuel if I don't intend to use it?

There was more than one reason God said to the Israelites, "Don't store the manna!"

Eat and share.

More schooling, more degrees, more study, more and more knowledge.

Libraries and bookstores are full of Bibles and great Christian books, yet the streets show no sign of God.

Bookstores and libraries and are full of Bibles and great Christian literature and DVD's, a mega-potential of light! Yet the streets are still full of darkness.

Churches, it seems, are on every corner, yet the streets are still void of hope.

Christianity is spelled out on the streets, by "doers of the Word."

It seems the physical dimension of Spiritual Christianity, is woe-fully missing the streets of life.

Wasn't Jesus a man of the streets?

The Church started when it spilled out on the street, or am I missing something?

Was not "Christian" actually coined on the street, by the people in the streets of Antioch as they watched Believers doing the Word?

Believers doing God's Word outside.

"Be doers of the Word, not "knowers" only" ... Jesus brother James spelled it out in his short book. "James 1:22"

Divine perversion?

Could perversion be knowing more and more of the truth, benefiting from that truth and loving the Truth Giver ... yet unwilling to exercise that truth outside ...

• Knowing Love, yet not doing love?
• Knowing compassion, yet not doing compassion?
• Knowing grace, yet not expressing it?
• Knowing forgiveness, yet not forgiving?

Therefor, the challenge today is getting our feet to the street! After all what are my feet there for?

THE ECHO OF STATUS QUO

Many, if not most of the Christian leaders today seem to be content to take Christianity as it is, for what it is, and worse, for where it is.

Is today's level of Christianity worth building on? ...

Planning, building and working on the existing sand of Status Quo. Seldom does anyone question where Christianity should be, or for that matter where the Church should be ... or could be.

The truthful answers to these questions are uncomfortable indeed.

I feel we have done a great disservice to true Christianity by accepting "Status Quo" as our norm and working from there.

It seems that we're quietly adapting to reality by changing our definition of heat and remaking our spiritual thermometers; It's much easier scratching out the old Biblical increments and changing them so that tepid reads hot?

If indeed, Godly "hot", is an un-reachable goal why not change the increments to read more realistically.

It seems the Churches have already re-set their thermostats to comfort! The temperature most want.

How many times have I've heard "Don't with the church thermostat!!!"

Good question. Why keep stretching toward the call, if I'm never going to attain to it?

Lets be realistic and adjust to lukewarm reality ... as we look around we can find loads of cold Believers, and warm ones too, and the "lukewarm".

But let's be honest where are there any hot Believers today? Where are the Believers with a burning passion for God? Where are the Believers who are out doing it?

The movers and shakers!

Where are the lighted Believers who are recklessly running into darkness to illuminate the truth?

Believers are doers of the Word! I want to be out there doing it to the max, until God says ... "Time up!" May I be hot ... until my body turns cold. You don't find thermostats in ... caskets!

NOW I'M A MAN

Every kid grows up wanting to be an adult. Kids consciously and sub-consciously study the behavior of adults. I remember little girls in my neighborhood dressing up like "Mamas" trying to walk in a pair of mother's big shoes, with mama's dress and sometimes jewelry. Boy's dressed up like "Daddies" finding father's shoes and coat a little too big, but ... Oh! And a lunch pail.(Daddy went to work.) Of course that was way back when there were homes, Mama's and Daddies and you even knew who they were.

Today it's so different.

Have you ever thought about this ... If a kid actually acts like an adult, before he is an adult, he is castigated and on occasion imprisoned. This creates a rather frustrating and confusing environment for teen wannabe adults.

It reeks of hypocrisy.

Wow! At the magic age we can enjoy the vices and drugs reserved for adults and not feel guilty.

Until then ... mom and dad will say ... "Honey, your too young to use the "F-word," next year it will be O. K., you'll be eighteen". "You know better Bobbie, no beer or whisky, your really too young, wait a few years, remember your father and I are adults". "Johnnie, you know you're not to be looking at porno, you're simply too young, you'll enjoy it more as adult." "Bruce, what are these condoms doing in your pants? ... remember your only twelve. Now be careful "

Adult language, adult toys, adult shoes, adult videos, adult games, porn, all off limits to a long line of impatient wannabe adults.

Especially the years of teens standing there full of hormones with their tongues hanging out ... ready for adulthood; and mature vices.

Mom and Dad handle it something like this: "Now Jeanie, when you get older you'll learn to use vice ... well ... responsibly, until that time you'll just have to wait. Sorry honey."

Being adult today pretty well centers around what we used to call vises. Immorality!

Vice in our world is the starting increment of adulthood. Vice becomes legal at the magical age of eighteen.

It seems too much to ask for us Christian adults to display a maturity as a virtuous end. Adult behavior that would highlight wisdom, character, honor, loyalty, humility ... Oh and lest I forget, modesty. (The other day I saw a fourteen year old girl in a bathing suit that would make a stripper blush!)

I can hear the kids now ...

Wow! I'm eighteen and now I can open the adult door and enjoy all the vices! Life become the trinity of alcohol, sex and party.

We're doing a great job with our kids!

ME, MYSELF AND I

Well, my body and I got of to a bad start this morning. I thought we were going out for exercise but my body simply said "No!"

From time to time my body and I have our disagreements. The direction we take tends to be a matter of who out shouts who. My body seemed more determined then ever.

It seems the more years we spend together, the more diverse our thinking. Sometimes I think we're becoming strangers.

"What do you mean no?" I asked my body. "Well," my body replied, "I'm simply too old to do what you're asking of me! Von it's time you realized how dumb this is! You don't see other 80 year olds out exercising, walking in a cold wind, doing push-ups and chin-ups; that's just plain nuts!" My body continued on it's tirade passionately pushing the virtues of a more sedentary goal.

"For example, look around at other 80 year old bodies, they're sitting in a big warm comfortable chair watching T. V. and munching chips. That's what I want to do at this age. It's only reasonable"

"Von, think retirement!"

My body had a point, and I was duly tempted. "What's wrong with doing what everyone else does? Give in. Give up!

But TA-DA!!!

I Pushed my feelings aside, and countered with a reasonable argument. "Hey body! Look at what these "couch potatoes" look like. Bald, bloated and fat! Contented and constipated!"

I won.

I followed my body out the door and we did our thing!

DOES THIS PHOTO ELICIT PITY:

The older I get the more I think of pity or compassion as an emotion that is gradually fading away from our Christian ethic. I wonder if this is true or maybe just my observation. Is compassion or the willingness to pity seen as a weakness or maybe an irresponsible emotion in the black and white world of reality?

Maybe it's that the ability or tendency to pity tends to makes me vulnerable to an action or giving I really don't want to commit to?

Can the ability to emote become calloused in time or because of experience? Am I protecting myself against compassion ... against pity? Have I, in time, developed a defense mechanism against pity and the obligation it may present?

I struggle with compassion, it doesn't come natural to me.

We have to admit Jesus, our example, was quite literally "moved" by His compassion. That is His actions were often the result of pitying.

His teaching on the Good Samaritan highlighted a lesson on compassion to a small crowd of pitiless religious professionals; the smart Academics of the day.

Would it be right to expect true Christians to have pity and compassion as their strength rather than their weakness?

Compassion; the God given ability to empathize with the conditions or feelings of others less fortunate.

Compassion; love in action. True compassion demands some kind of involvement.

Is compassion missing as the driving force of ministry? Should compassion be the heart of ministry? Is it possible to have a calling initiated and driven by compassion for others?

*Today, as in most days I'll drive past beggars. In my world there are many. I drive past the homeless without a concern; I in my comfortable car give them but a glance, looking at them simply as everyday objects; a visible part of a society gone wrong! I don't want to connect with their pitiable condition; for which I really can do nothing about? I can use one of a hundred good excuses ... responsible reasons why I can't afford them pity or give them a prayer ... or a coin.

By driving past them I am doing nothing wrong; but then I'm not doing right either.

It's a fact that there is someone watching from above ... and He's keeping score.

The Book of Life is but one of many in God's Library!

The History of my life and your life is being written each day.

*To be honest, above my sun visor in my SUV, I have a pocket full of dollar bills, just for such occasions.

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH VIOLENCE!

Common sense says: Kids raised in violence, whether actual violence or vicarious violence ... will perpetrate violence. Violent scenarios, violent environments become an attractive and exciting world for disoriented male children.

A perverted world.

Three powerful influencing screens are responsible for much of this; TV screen, big screen and tiny screens; all packaged to sell violence to eager young male buyers. Violent, exciting and attractive male actors and man images have become vicarious mentors to these confused “man hungry” young boys.

Most boys will grow up to be male ... too few will become men.

Boys that are born to be true men, often end up as angry and disillusioned male primates ... candidates for escaping reality.

This kind of kid grows up to become a smart and dangerous social predator.

To this predator violence ends up becoming a purpose ending in an exciting, though short, way of life.

Add dangerous drugs to the equation and you have an intense violence that is hungry for blood, anguish and pain.

Death ultimately becomes a high! And the 'trinity-creed' below becomes a reality!

As one good looking teen told me ... "I'm going to live fast, die young and make a good looking corpse!"

Unfortunately, society, instead of changing this scenario, has for the most part decided to live with it ... too many single moms unwittingly donate their son's to the Devil and his short term agenda. Heartbreak indeed.

Leave your kid alone, looking and interacting with the screen long enough and ... to know what your kid is looking at is to know what he's becoming.

YES SIR!

This evening it was interesting watching our President as he inspected the Texas border. He really got close to Mexico! Here is our President taking a look for himself to see, indeed, how effective his border guards are. Meeting with the top officers and supervisors, asking good questions, "checking with the troops!" "Petting the dogs."

"I want to see for myself!" "I want to know what's going on!"

I well remember when I was in the Army how the inspections went. Oh yeah! Whenever a general or big-wig would come to see the troops, we would get the word in advance and we would start to work getting everything clean and shiny, I mean CLEAN and I mean SHINY! Then, when the big occasion came, we would stand in formation ... waiting for the big-wig's to inspect us. Some times it would be a General, or sometimes a Senator or Congressman.

They would walk down the line of us soldiers and from time to time question us about the conditions we were living under. "Soldier, how is the food here?" "GREAT SIR!"

Could we tell them the truth? No way! Of course not! Not with our Sergeant looking at us.

Did our dear Leaders see the truth? No. Did they hear the truth? No. Did they see what they wanted? Yes. Did they hear what they wanted? Of course.

Just another expensive exercise in political futility. Just a game. Even us lowly soldiers knew the game ... and we fall for it every time!

WHAT WE NEVER TALK ABOUT!

There are three things my Christian brothers and sisters don't seem to know. Three important facts: (1) That Satan is the god of this world (I JOHN 5:19) & (EPH 2:2), (2) that we have an enemy and (3) we're in a war (EPH 6:12). Blissfully ignorant? Intentionally ignorant? ... I don't know, but ignorant we are!

It seems the American saints never talk about Satan or his strategy. Books or preaching; I don't hear of our enemy or warfare. If I didn't know my Bible and work the darkness, I guess I would be blissfully ignorant too.

The Bible tells us of Satan, his position and strategies. In fact our Bible warns us against being ignorant of his strategies (II COR 2 :11). Be alert the Bible says ... (I PET 5:8) ... Pray against Satan? I don't think so.

For some reason we keep this Biblical doctrine under wraps. I wonder what the reason could be? Speaking of the Devil, his demons, and demon possession just isn't ... well, politically correct for the church today.

We don't want to be seen as extremist ... yet few there are who are “extreme” on this subject.

One day when I Was talking with a “man of God”, I mentioned Satan ... he tensed up saying he felt that we shouldn't give the Devil “free advertisement.”

In the old days we used to sing a hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” I tended to keep mum on that one ... it was just another song we shouldn't sing unless we believed it. Indeed where are the soldiers? Where is the enemy? Where is the war? What is our weapon? Just another inside the church-hymn.

It's apparent Satan has a different strategy for different cultures. The strategy he is using in affluent America is working well.

Like the hypnotic cobra, he has hypnotized the church.

We are kept in ignorance.

What have you heard about the war lately?

A ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD'S DOCTRINE ON PAPER

Monday morning I was sitting on Robert's bed at the orphanage and he was showing me some of his drawings.

He pulled out a page and gave it to me.

I was fascinated as I studied it. Robert is nine years old, and for some reason decided to visualize the doctrine he was taught. I studied the drawing as he watched, asking questions.

The large hand on the upper right is our Lord's nail scarred and bleeding hand with blood dripping down. Little things with wings flying up toward His hand are actually Christians dying and brought up into heaven.

Climbing the hard path up the right side of the mountains were pilgrims climbing some real hard areas. Christian pilgrims haven't an easy road.

Under the large mountain are the two different roads taking you two different directions. Decision please.

On the left are those non-believers on their pilgrimage trying to find God, they were met by lightening, fire and brimstone ... finally ending in flaming hell.

On the top of the mountain is glory of God and the cross of Jesus Christ.

~ Roberto

WALKING THE DOG

Every time I see someone walking their dog or dogs, I feel happy inside. Why? One or two more adults that have opted to have a pet rather than a child. Cheers! They'll love their little fuzzy four legged being they can hold, love and spoil rotten.

A little ball of loveable fuzz that will remain a controllable pet and never grow up to be a dysfunctional adult. Kid's need parenting, pets don't. Kids take a long haul commitment, pets don't. Kids need a mature family of two ... pets don't.

Most of us don't connect social problems, drugs, crime and killing ... with poor parenting of children who grow up to be problems ... almost as if they were two entirely different things. As adults today become more selfish and dysfunctional, I'm for them having more pets!

If a pet lover would rather pick up poop from their dog than change the pampers of a child ... so be it.

Buy a dog, man's best friend.

Pets are loyal and forgiving. They don't say "no!" nor do they sass you. Pets will never cause a scandal and they eat less food; pets medical services, though high, are nothing compared to a child's medical bills. It makes sense.

Coming from a lifetime working with boys here and in Mexico has convinced me that more adult couples should invest their love in pets rather then create babies they are unable or unwilling to parent properly.

Many making an eternal mistake!

It's easy to make a baby but it's quite another thing raising the child to become a healthy mature man or woman ... in Tijuana, I see more than my share of hungry unloved dogs running the streets, the heartbreak compounds when I also see hungry, unloved kids running those same streets.

Yesterday I asked a street boy about his mother ... he looked at me and said "I don't even remember her."

Bastards are the result of a man and woman simply breeding.

I used to think breeding was a term used for animals and limited to animals. The world in which I work has proven otherwise, breeding continues to grow and cause pain in the human race.

Suggestion, and I'm serious.

If you don't want to pay the price of being a good parent. Buy a doll, or get a pet, but, for the baby's sake, don't bring another human life, an eternal life, in this world unless you both know how to raise it right.

Tip! Good parenting is learned, not by books but by being successfully parented, if you don't know how to parent, in my opinion, don't try! We don't need another adult problem.

COMPASSION AND RESPONSIBILITY

There is an ongoing struggle in the true Christian's life between being "responsible" (The mind.) and showing compassion (The heart.)

Well, maybe I should say, there should be a struggle; in most cases there is no room for struggle in our formally educated minds ... reason and education trump compassion, as a deciding factor.

Compassion, mercy, grace ... not that important. You wouldn't want to base your life's decision on that weak trinity.

Being responsible is thinking wisely; making wise decisions. Compassion, on the other hand is but an emotion. A dangerous emotion, An uncomfortable emotion. Let's be responsible!

I've heard too much of this secular "responsible" babble.

At a prayer breakfast, I was talking about our ministry to the poor in Mexico with a Christian leader of my church. "Von, why do you go down and feed those people? They'll just multiply like rats." To this "man of god" ,I was wasting time and money ... I wasn't acting responsible.

I was visiting a missionary friend of mine in Bolivia working with a jungle tribe. This tribe was the last of it's kind. There were only seven people left. Through the years the rest of the tribe died off by warfare and disease. This missionary family was willing to invest ten or more years to learn the language and give these people the Gospel and a Bible and prepare them for the dominant society. When a Christian friend of mine listened to me talk of this man and his calling. He said, von, what a waste! Seven people? When he could stay here and preach to hundreds or thousands? My Christian brother saw this man as irresponsible in his decision.

We just can't conceive that God has a very different approach to reaching and converting man. He has a different scale and different increments. He has a different "method" ... His method is successful with permanent results. His way can't be improved.

I've heard all my life ... be responsible, make responsible decisions. Get your education first, be responsible. "Von, you're too big for your little church, move up, reach more people. ". .that would be seen as responsible Christian counsel

A missionary pastor in my church once said "von, we need to invest in church planters. Only missionaries that plant churches." What about missionaries who are called by almighty God to other missionary ministries? I.e. Sorry, God, we just don't see your Divine call as worthy of our support!

Let the man you called get his support somewhere else!

I see today's Christian's tending to make judgments based on secular judgments. Using secular increments. Being politically correct. That's today's 'responsible' way.

There is an apparent struggle with some, very few ... of us. A secular balance vs. a Divine balance ...

I note in the Gospels that Jesus seemed to be guided by love, mercy and compassion. He didn't seem to act responsibly. I see Him as not very efficient either, but always effective.

As I see it, Jesus acted on compassion.

My call, was a call of compassion! And that may not seem responsible to some, but so be it! My call is from God not man ... even well meaning "responsible" brothers.

If I am to err, and err I will, may it be on the side of Compassion and forgiveness.

DRIVING TIJUANA AT NIGHT

Every now and then there will be a mayhem Tijuana traffic knot. (A Mexican stand-off!) Night time vehicular mayhem formed by a sudden intersection created by two separate two lane roads (= four lanes) narrowing into two lanes.

It's tired time ... Night time; no signs, no lights, no love, no cops ... and no rules!

We all just want to get across the border and back home.

Yep! A "Mexican Standoff" where nice guys don't win.

Last night I had to drive into and thru one of those Tijuana Traffic Knots, and it wasn't pretty.

Four lanes of cars slowly and miraculously cramming into two lanes forming a constantly changing knot of eight or nine crafty and bullish drivers hitting at you from every side ... this forms the heart of the cram. Each determined driver is pushing the limit. Many of us actually working within a three or four inch margin.

We're all trying to gain and maintain a permanent place in line.

Cars with their side mirrors pulled in indicate an unusual determination.

A heavy old car and bluff is the name of the game. The stuff these winners are made of.

Add some alcohol and drugs and you can have a rather explosive traffic cocktail.

Timid losers finally pull off and go back thirty cars to start again, dreading the growing cram intersection ahead.

We could call this, automotive poker ... however there are no rules to this game.

An interesting point you learn fast, no eye contact with any other driver. You slowly follow, within inches, the vehicle in front of you ... letting no one even think of cutting in. All of us slowly and deliberately forging ahead.

I'll be honest, a nighttime challenge like this for an eighty year old can stress this old man out. Each Tijuana traffic jam knotted like this, leaves you sweating ... for there is no mercy!

SKATEBOARDS

America has had a ongoing thing about skateboards or skate carts for years. Today's skateboards are just that, a small board with four plastic wheels. In our day skateboards were just for kids. It's a little different now; today's skateboards are for kids forty and under.

Seems strange to me to see grown men zooming down the street on their skateboard. Whoopee!

What's so great about skateboards? Us old-timers invented them years ago.

All of us kids had 'em. We made our own ... a lot cheaper that way. Materials needed: One old fashioned metal clamp-on skate, a two and a half foot wooden 2X4, a small wooden fruit box ... some nails. And a lot of vision.

Our skateboards were rather simple to make. One half of a metal clamp-on skate with it's two metal wheels was nailed to the front of the board and the other two wheels were nailed to the back. On the front of our wooden skateboard we nailed the wooden box and on top of the box we nailed two handles. Stand with one foot on the board, lean over and take hold of the handles then scoot down the sidewalk with other foot. To steer we just leaned one way or the other.

Yeah, we were proud of our skateboards. I even had brakes on mine.

Of course our skateboards were different than today's slick agile and quiet boards, ours were more of a one-leg power vehicle built for our neighborhood sidewalk freeway system. They were loud and noisy ... just the way boys like them.

We shared our tools as money was tight.

We put everything we had into these skateboards; our money, our skill and even our reputation! Yep, we made it ourselves ... and you could be sure, it was made In The USA!

DIGNITY

Driving in Tijuana I slowed down in back of a line of slowing cars, then came to a stop. As I was waiting, a rather disheveled man approached me ... he was selling "chiclets" little boxes of gums.

I rolled down my window, grabbed a dollar from my sun visor and handed it to the man. Lots of beggars "selling" chiclets. This man appeared to me to be another beggar.

He took my dollar ... and offered me the gum.

I said "no thanks" and smiled. He said, "No, take it. It's yours." I replied, "No, I don't need any gum."

He said," Well, you bought it, it's yours." I smiled and said "thanks" and took the package of gums, "I'll give them to my kids."

He smiled, and went on to the next car to sell his gum.

I took this man to be just another beggar; he was really a salesman. When I realized I was wrong, I smiled and took the gums.

This man was poor indeed, but he was a salesman with his small micro-business. He had his dignity ... and who was I to strip him of that?

THE BOOGIE-MAN OF DARK!

If your house is well lit; on a dark night, walk over to your door to the outside, and open it.

Look closely and you will observe a profound truth.

When you opened the door to the outside, the light shined right out the doorway ... the darkness didn't prevent the light from shining out, nor did the darkness project back into your room.

Why?

Light trumps dark! Light always trumps dark.

Dark has no power. Light has power, light is power, light is energy.

Darkness is simply a paper tiger, by that I mean dark is simply the absence of light.

Light reveals truth while darkness covers truth. We, by our nature, prefer the dark. (John 3:19)

Light and darkness cannot co-exist at the same time, light dominates!

The standard of truth is comfortably hidden by darkness.

I'm called to be a light. (Matt.5:14) I'm called to shine in darkness. By my new nature I'm called to illuminate ... I do not fear darkness because it holds no power over me.

Conversely

Those in darkness are held bondage to their very darkness because they can't see truth. To them, light, like the truth it reveals, is painful and costly ... and they can say, "Walk in the dark as I am in the dark and we will have fellowship one with the other!"

The purpose of light is to conquer dark as ... We walk in The Light. (I John 1:5-7)

THE LISTERINE BOTTLE

I consider myself very fortunate in having a garage, when most people in the world don't even have a car. My garage is really useful, not just to house the car, but in my garage I have my workbench with a multitude of Chinese tools; that is made in China.

When I come home, after buying stuff, I bring the stuff from my car and lay it out on the workbench and prepare to open the packaged items. I have the tools I need. Vice, hammer, hacksaw, scissors and various other cutting devices ... and band aids.

Today's incredibly tough packaging demands a set of aggressive tools to help open and release the products! From a simple toothbrush to a set of little batteries, they don't give up easily.

Most all of these items are incased in tough see-through plastic, vacuum packaged allowing you to see the item you purchased ... then spend twenty minutes trying to remove the item, intact, from the packaging.

Take a simple something like mouthwash.

The other day I bought a family sized bottle of mouthwash. (6 benefits in one ... 'one' what, I don't know.) I took the bottle from my car and sat the bottle on my workbench and looked at it ... it stared back.

I could tell, there was going to be war!

I was going to have to open this baby. Simply unscrew the cap? No way.

I took the bottle and twisted the cap to open it and sure enough it was "child-proofed" ... and that's understandable as any child would just LOVE the ugly taste of mouthwash. Right?

I love that ratcheting noise. It resonates aggression.

"Child-proofing" or, in reality, "Adult proofing" really ticks me off!

When I studied the cap, it showed how to simply squeeze the cap in the right place and simply twist it open.

Why didn't I think of that?

Now where is that right place ... it's under the cap somewhere!

So I carefully squeezed and twisted and sure enough it wouldn't open. I'm not one to easily give up. Again, I squeezed as hard as I could, and twisted it ... it wouldn't open!

I got my big pliers and really went at it ... squeezing and slowly twisting. It still didn't work.

By now the bottle and I both had an attitude.

I studied the bottle closely and noticed two little black lips on the bottom of the plastic cap. Aha! I got my hacksaw and cut them off!

Success! Now the cap works like a charm.

Some dark night I Would love to meet the designer of that cap ... even if I had to travel to China.

PET FOODS

The other day I was walking down the "Dog and Cat food" Isle in my local market. Looking at the rows and rows of pet food with their colorful packaging ... I guess that's what you do in a pet food isle. I paused to study this impressive panorama of canine and feline foods.

And briefly though of Haiti.

Indeed we love our furry pets. But oh so many, many decisions.

There's chew, bite, crunch munch, gnaw and gum.(Older dogs.) Dried food, wet food, canned food and hunks of leather from a long forgotten cow.

A growing diet section for the growing ever fatter pets.

We can't forget that maturity section, Age is playing a bigger part; there's puppy food, and adult dog food, then middle-age and ... senile dog food for the dentally impaired.

While there is little on the shelf for A common curbstone setter or average alley cat, there's a vast selection for the precious and finicky few ... ending in gourmet.

Now what would Tabby or Rover enjoy?

Because Tabby or Rover aren't allowed in the store and because they can't read anyway, means we must choose their pet food for them, so in reality the colorful and convincing packaging is created to sell us, not Tabby or Rover. An astounding revelation!

An important point to consider.

Each package holds a picture of a healthy happy dog or contented cat eager to eat the very product you have in your hand. How simple.

This one is it.

One thing for sure, the thoughtful time you spend walking back and forth and searching out what you think your Tabby or Rover would like for supper . .you're offering will be devoured in a blur of seconds as it hits the floor. And Rover will look up at you asking ... is that all?

Now Tabby, well, she may take her time, after all she is gourmet.

VICTOR ENDS IT ALL

Little by little Victor's world was falling apart. His fatherless two room home, in a very poor barrio was becoming impossible. No money, little food, fighting and arguments were an everyday thing. In school he was having problems too, for months things in Victor's small world had been going from bad to worse.

Victor, a scrawny little twelve year old, wasn't particularly good looking ... just an average Tijuana kid. He didn't feel needed or necessarily wanted.

There didn't seem to be enough love in those two rooms to include him.

He knew of two young boys in his neighborhood that had done it.

Maybe this was the answer. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense.

Each one of the two boys had hung themselves. (About 90% of suicides in Mexico are by hanging.)

Victor thought it over and carefully planned out his end.

He found out how to tie a noose, located a short rope and knew of an abandoned shack a few blocks up the street. Victor slowly penned two notes and stuck them in his pocket. He made a noose on one end of the rope, and walked with the rope to the abandoned building.

Gathering several boxes together, Victor stacked them up, and climbed atop where he could reach a 2X4 on the ceiling; while standing on the wobbly boxes he threw the rope over the 2X4 a couple of times and tied it into a knot then placed the noose over his head, pulling it tight.

After a time, he kicked the wobbly boxes and fell ... it was all over.

He hung there until some kids found him.

When Mexican Public Service arrived to pick up Victor's body, his mother identified her son, showing no emotion.

More food for the family?

Going through the young boy's pockets, they found some marbles, a few tasas (Small plastic disks; a game that boys play this time of year.) and the two notes.

One note was addressed to his mother ... in the short note he expressed his feelings that she love Benjamin, his younger brother, more then him.

The next note was addressed to Santa Clause.

"Dear Santa, I must be a bad boy because you never gave me the little remote control car I asked for."

A small twelve year old boy kills himself. He felt unloved, unwanted and even rejected by Santa ... he was a "bad" kid.

We are there for those twelve year olds ... somehow we missed Victor!

In Tijuana, kids suicides are growing ... and boys suicides in particular.

Seriously! What have they got to live for? You answer that one!

KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!

Back when boys were boys and women didn't make the rules, we used to play "King of The Mountain." A rather primitive game particularly attractive to boys. Sorry, no girls on the mountain.

Just a small, high, pile of worthless dirt would provide the challenge of who could be king, who would be king ... and for how long.

King was the boy on top! He was King! For how long only he could tell. The other boys had a singular agenda ... dethrone the king! Pull the king down and become king yourself!

Rules were simple; anything goes ... just become King!

A boy thing ... way back when they had real boys, and boy things.

A serious game of ego, strength and testosterone. In "King of the Mountain;" anything goes! The color of the game was black'n-blue ... there were often tears and blood.

In "King of The Mountain" ... there was a winner and of course there were losers. Those who fought fair and those who fought to win.

There were those who sought the summit and got the summit ... at least for a time.

PRISON?

When is anyone going to take on the prison fiasco? The whole system is rotten to the core but everyone seems to want it to remain "invisible" ... "Put 'em behind bars," to many, that's the solution! No way! How can any intelligent person think that larger prisons are the solution to less crime ... prison, for the most part just puts things on hold.

Why do we continue thinking criminal, police, jail, prison = equals solution? The prison system we have is in fact increasing crime. An institute of multiplication. Quality crime by more sophisticated criminals.

I would define prison as "Inmates in training:" Schooling paid for by our government. An average criminal can become a smooth professional with enough schooling ... and think of the future contacts he can make.

Why are our officials blind to this? They can't be that dumb.

Well, maybe they are.

Another thought: If you haven't a cause, you'll find it in prison; a proven recruiting environment for a fundamentalist Muslim. It's a fact that prisons are packed with terrorist potential And Muslims know it, and exploit it.

Muslim indoctrination, thumbs up! Christian indoctrination, thumbs down! That's the way it goes in too many prisons.

Prison: A place to locate and motivate future terrorists to a cause:

Oh, another question. How is it possible that gangs inside the prison can efficiently and effectively run gangs outside the prison? How can a prisoner make and keep a fortune while in prison? Now that's a real mystery.

Could it be the prison system itself?

Why is it that drug addicts can acquire all the drugs they need in prison? Something smells in the prison system, but then again, who really cares? To the guards, it's employment. Why should the guards care? The larger the prison the more guards employed.

Police? Do the police really care? Dumb question. Think it over. If there were no criminals the police would be out of a job.

Cops 'n robbers a healthy synergetic pairing.

Fact!

The prison can of worms needs to be opened. The sooner the better ... and ... we need to deal with the ... worms ... not the can they're in!

31 FLAVORS

In my ministry with youth I tried to place a priority on recognizing, attracting and developing leadership types. I was grateful for the compliant kids we had but wanted to invest in future leaders.

To find my leaders I had to study my kids. And I did.

One of my first tests in finding latent young leaders was "THE 31 FLAVORS TEST." A rather unique test. I would take my teens to the local 31 FLAVORS store and treat them to an Ice Cream ... then study each kid as they went about getting their Ice Cream. It seemed that the leaders were first to step up, quickly scan the flavors available, and select their flavor, they knew what flavor they wanted. Most of the other kids were indecisive and slow in finding their choice. Several, I noticed, asked the leaders what flavor they chose. (Being boys, I realize that there is a hunger factor here.)

How did I select leadership potential? What did I look for? Well, one who was decisive, one who tended to cut corners on a winding path ... a kid who didn't necessarily follow the trail but made his own. Often I found it was the leader who was first to do the dumb and daring. (Judgment comes later.)

I was always on the lookout for the mavericks; kids who showed the following six qualities: energized, articulate, decisive, competitive, determined and creative.

Of course there's a risk in developing leaders. A grouping of young leaders creates a rather tumultuous environment, however a necessary environment in which leaders could grow. Unfortunately, this environment seems to be a threat to many Youth Men. Also all leaders are not leaders for the good.

Leaders are leaders for whatever cause they take. May it be the cause of Christ.

PUT YOUR BULL HORN DOWN, YOU AIN'T MAKING THINGS BETTER!

Rev. Al Sharpton, Rev. Jesse Jackson and Rev. Martin Luther King, the black trinity.

Of these three, in my opinion, only one stands out as an honest champion of the blacks, and that was the martyred Martin Luther King. King was one who was for the blacks lifting themselves from their accepted status, and seeing themselves as having as much potential as any other American. Head held high!

Jackson and Sharpton, quickly attached themselves to King's legacy and are proving themselves to be cheap fakes; making their fortunes off the backs of their own poor people.

When you have an agenda to keep poor people poor, so you can control, manipulate and exploit them for your own cause ... this is sick!

Two cheap political Reverends, content with their stature, and competing for power through controlling their black communities. Two self-appointed political spokesmen for the thousands of blacks under them; which they keep chained to their color, history and status.

Bullhorn message to their blacks: "Never you forget that you're black and your forefathers were slaves!" "The whites owe you!!"

These two spokesmen find it quite profitable keeping blacks segregated, discontent and enslaved to their past. You will never hear Jackson or Sharpton encourage their people to climb above their slavery and history, and become the people they could be. Enter another loud perverted Reverend; Rev. Wright ... he and his cohorts make a mockery of the gentle Savior and His call to freedom.

A loud blowhard with one microphone and one agenda ... stirring up hatred and strife against the whites. Fomenting black anger!

Quite a successful strategy!

Quite lucrative too.

Keeping blacks diverted from a successful track upward is the goal of these pundits; their blacks are only to hear what they can't be and will never be. At all cost, keep them down and controllable.

Become their savior! (It pays big bucks! Look how these three live!)

Isn't it interesting to put this in a true perspective. Look throughout our history, follow different ethnic groups like The Polish, Italians, and Irish that came to America to make a new life and how they made it. They were treated bad, It was tough, each group took a lot of heat. Were they persecuted? Of course! Oh, and what about the Chinese? The Chinese were humbled, humiliated and persecuted ... even tortured, yet they didn't bitch, grumble and complain; they quietly climbed above their cultural handicap and made it to the top. Ethnic group after group came here, went to school, and climbed above their perceived handicap.

None of them with the "help" of a Jackson or Sharpton

However ... the blacks and Hispanics continue to bitch about their persecution and treatment.

I, along with millions of others, am tired of the constant complaining of blacks and browns ... It's getting old!! ... and I'm tired of being blamed for being born white! I'm tired of being blamed for persecuting blacks when my father and great grandfather were in Germany and never involved in the slavery that existed in early America. He, nor I were even here. Yet, I'm somehow at fault.

Surprise! Have you ever heard anything about the Blacks in Africa that betrayed their own people for money? Blacks in Africa that rounded up and sold their own brothers by the thousands into slavery. For some reason blacks never speak about that. Black's selling their own, to other blacks seems perfectly OK ... what's wrong with blacks selling blacks? Apparently nothing.

It's the big bad whites that bought them from the innocent blacks and brought them here to work as slaves, they were the problem! Never, never the blacks that sold them to us! (Are history books allowed to carry this part of he history?)

Ah, I smell the stench of good old hypocrisy!

Will the moaning and groaning ever cease?

Solution? A black I was working with, and he was a good worker and friend, summed it up rather simply. "If the blacks would get off their fat asses and get to work, they'd make it too."

Carlton made it despite Sharpten, Wright and Jackson!

THE HANDSHAKE

Consciously or unconsciously we all read people and it's true, one can't make a second first impression!

That makes the first impression very important!

My take on reading people at an initial meeting is not so much by their physical appearance but rather by their handshake and their eye-to-eye contact.

Even which one of the two initiates the handshake is telling, indicating the initial positioning of the two.

We might say ... briefly 'sizing a person up.'

Even though the handshake isn't used in every culture, it's a hidden indicator of many things. Simple, yet complex.

The handshake is a quick first read on a person's strength and self-esteem; the 'who' you are meeting. An equal or inferior? Leader or follower? A person of strength or a person that's weak? Someone with high self-esteem or a person who has little self-esteem? All told in a quick handshake.

A petite lady was brought into a rather large male dominated institution in which I was ministering. She was there temporarily to do a hatchet job; she was sent there to find and cut problem men. (Which she did!)

Indeed they had the right person.

I remember being called in to meet her ... it was her handshake that impressed me! This petite little woman had a remarkable handshake, a strong handshake ... as we shook hands she looked up at me, her eyes penetrating mine. In less than a minute we both knew who we were and the basic relationship we were to have. Fortunately we were both on the same side.

I've found the eyes to be, perhaps the most telling part of the body. Indeed windows to the very soul. (When I'm around police, security or guards, I take my dark glasses off!)

Eye to eye contact while shaking hands says a lot too. Eye to eye seems to indicate "direct and honest" and one who is also sizing you up ... while the person who switches his eyes from yours or who avoids eye to eye contact, looking at your face but not into your eyes ... something just isn't right in the relationship between you.

Something says caution.

As most tribal people, Yanamamo Indians of Venezuela don't have the custom of shaking hands but in the case of man to man they may test you in several other ways ... always while watching your eyes.

Eye to eye is very important in Indian culture; it's important in any culture.

The Yanamamo may draw their six-foot arrow, aiming it straight at your heart, while watching your eyes; they may even let it go while catching it at the last second ... watching your eyes to see if you show fear.

The handshake and the eyes combine for a quick read of the person on the other side.

Evaluate your handshake ... how have people been reading you?

PREACHING STONED (A True Story)

A few month's back, I was to preach at a local Church and my niece was to drive me. My shoulder had been injured in a fall and was giving me some pain, so my niece gave me some pain pills in case I needed them, but I was taking my pain like a man; that was until Sunday morning when I took another spill and my shoulder was really hurting. When I was about to leave the house I quickly grabbed a couple of my niece's pain pills and slowly and carefully walked down my stairs to get into her car so she could drive me to the Church. As we drove I got to feeling better. No pain. In fact the longer we drove the better I felt. When we arrived at church I was feeling better than I had ever felt.

Yep! I was pleasantly stoned. Legally stoned.

Pumped on two white pills!

Now I am dependable and was ready to go; I'm also an honest sort, so when I got behind the pulpit I smiled and told the people I was stoned and mentioned that if no one liked my message I really didn't care.

I felt good about it!

Let's say I had real liberty.

Probably one of my better messages!

Yep! I was invited back ... at that point I was tempted to give them a three pill message they would never forget.

OUR WORLD OF DIRTY FEET!

Years ago Pastor Juan and I were working in the Tijuana Children's jail. This was an institution holding over 160 teens and some preteens; kids as young as eleven. They were in there for anything from graffiti to rape and murder, their sentences ranging from one year to three years. (At that time a kid killing someone got three years.)

We noticed the smell from the kids feet; these young inmates wouldn't take off their shoes, they would sleep with them on or someone would steal them. 24/7 what a smell! A lot of the kids had bad cases of athletes feet or foot fungus.

We decided to cut down the athletes feet fungus by washing their feet with Hydrogen Peroxide and massage anti-fungal cream in their feet. We sprayed their shoes with anti-fungal powder.

The two of us would walk into the large smelly toilet area with a line of boys following us for medical attention ... sometimes just attention.

Boy, I've seen my share of dirty smelly feet, and filthy bathrooms!

I remember, as we were working on feet one day, an older teen asking me "Why are you guys doing this? Why do you care about us?

I replied "We're Christians and this is what Christians do..."

How would you answer this one?

These occasions, following our teaching time, were opportunities to make an impact through example.

Others were asking the same question. "What's your motive?" "Why?"

Indeed we were teaching, but what was more important is that our "foot washing ministry" gave credibility to our messages.

Biblical? I remember Jesus starting at Peter's feet to reach his heart.

It worked for him, it worked for us!

... and we're still washing dirty feet.

OATMEAL

Almost every morning I eat my hot oatmeal, I toss a few raisons in for fruit. I wonder why I eat oatmeal. I don't particularly like it yet I know it's healthy.

Maybe it's because we always ate it for breakfast as kids. Mother said it stuck to our ribs. Oatmeal.

Or earlier still, I'm sure she ate oatmeal while I was in her womb, I could have acquired the taste there?

Or possibly ...

in kindergarten; I remember us having a band, a sort of percussion band. Now, kids like to bang on things and our teacher caught the vision we could learn the art of banging in unison.

So our teacher got us kids together and told us of her plans. We were to become her little percussion band.

Some of us were, shall we say, musically challenged; the Johnnie-one-notes got to bang the nail; a big nail you couldn't miss.

I remember we had quality kids, mostly girls who hit the triangle, and the less talented that simply swished the sand-paper blocks.

Apparently I was musically gifted, so I was allowed to play the oatmeal-box drum.

Maybe that's where my thing for oatmeal comes from.

THE OLD HYMNS

On the radio today I was listening to an old hymn. "Make me a Blessing" I knew that one by heart, just a musical reminder of my calling today. I started humming along thinking of the many old songs I've been missing these many "contemporary" years of music.

I well remember the hymns of faith from our Baptist "Broadman Hymnal"

I remember Trust and obey, and it's lesson; there is no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey!

Then there are other impacting hymns: "Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty!," "Praise God from whom all blessings flow".

And "How Great Thou Art!"

Somehow today's contemporary effort toward majesty and power in musical worship just doesn't seem to match up.

As I observe it, contemporary music has energy ... but lacks meaningful power!

These old hymns don't need a pipe organ, guitar or drums ... just a bunch of excited Believers!

I remember way back in my early childhood; every Sunday we closed our morning service, by standing, holding hands and singing an old hymn ... "God be with us 'Till we meet again!"

That seemed to make sense, as well as a great send off.

One college chapel I was attending, waiting to speak; I was surprised when everyone started to sing hymns ... it seemed as if I were in a huge choir. The church congregation was one gigantic choir. Everyone sang in parts, complete with the contralto high soprano who was there doing her thing. I said to myself," this has got to impress any visitor".

Somehow, yesteryears stuff leaves a good taste in my mouth ... and I'm hungry for more.

LADIES AND GENTELMEN!

Remember when a speech would begin with "Ladies and Gentlemen ..." Where did the ladies go? And the gentlemen, where did they go?

Gentlemen? They were the kind of man that stood to give a lady their seat. Gentlemen seated their lady at a restaurant. Gentlemen ordered the meal. Gentlemen opened the door for a lady. Gentlemen held her arm as they walked ... and he would walk on the curb side. A civil time. That was the lady and gentlemen era.

Where the ladies and gentlemen went is no real mystery.

Woman's liberation 60's thru 80's. quietly changed the lady to a woman and changed the gentleman back to a man!

Woman and man!

Woman's Liberation was the big gender blender blunder! No more ladies, no more gentlemen.

We're all equal. Unisex flourishes.

Women boldly going where no woman had gone before permeating the very sanctuaries of testosterone as well as reversing or minimizing man's roll in society.. Estrogen vs. testosterone!

"Move over man, I'm sitting there now!" ... the tough broad smiles," want to make something of it mister man?"

Open a door for a woman now and she looks puzzled. Try and seat a woman now and you get a dirty look!

Alas, the lady and gentlemen are two endangered species.

Indeed there are millions of women, and millions of broads too ... but has anyone seen a lady of virtue around?

FORMAL EDUCATION

When making that important decision regarding future schooling proceed slowly and proceed with caution. Don't be fooled by the front door! Whether a simple bible school, seminary, college or university; the front door is always inviting, it's always open and looks great!

Don't fall for the beauty of academic brick and mortar! Inexpensive tuition? There many be a reason.

Don't fall for promises, if it's performance your after.

A person enters schooling to be educated. A student enters school somewhat like moldable clay and leaves formed and baked. (In some cases ... half baked!)

It's the back door that you need to watch.

The back door, not the front door, defines the school.

Who came from the school that became a notable leader?

The school's alumni all came through that back door, what did they become, better yet who did they become and what did they amount to?

As to schooling, always study that back door ... before you enter the front door!

The time you take researching a school's alumni will be well worth the effort.

HONORARIUM

There is word called "honorarium." As a speaker I found I was often given an "honorarium" for speaking or teaching. Sort of a clever gift of gratitude.

A gift you didn't have to declare as income.

Most speakers get an appropriate honorarium and expenses paid, and that's only fair. If you're a big league speaker you get big league "honorariums" and if you're a person like me, a little league speaker ... you get what the people are good enough to pay.

Fortunately It was never necessary to make my living from speaking, so I rarely discussed "honorariums" and for the most part it came off well. On occasion I would get a thousand dollar "honorarium" and on other occasions not a red cent. Not even expenses ... or gas.

I remember well the most unusual yet endearing and humbling "honorarium" I ever received.

I was to speak to a small Church in tropical India. To say the church was small would be an understatement. Thatch roof, four posts and four short pews. A little pulpit for me to speak from. The little church was packed with ten smiling brothers and sisters.

After the service, we were all meeting and greeting one another, when a lady came up and with a smile handed me the church honorarium ... three eggs.

That thank-you meant more to me than any honorarium I've ever received.

THE STRANGE FEELING OF EMPOWERMENT!

I was thinking about government; I guess today we all think about government ... and I remembered the phrase "public servants," then I thought further into government, and even more important who funds our Governments.

Why, it's us! It's me! Enlightenment!

Why, I'm an employer! I'm the Governments boss! I'm the President's boss!

Yeah, I may be just a small sardine, but in this case us little sardines swim with the big tunas.

Wow! This has given me a new perspective, seeing as how heavily invested I am in my Government. (And God knows I am!)

I am a boss!

Just think, the next time I'm pulled over for a minor infraction, I can look at the police officer as my employee! Now that's a perspective I like! That dude is working for me. No more quaking fear. No more wet pants, but an eye-to-eye contact. Oh, and officer please address me as sir.

The unleashed power of a new mind set!

I can stop along the freeway construction area and inquire as to how they're doing on repairing my freeway and commend them on their work. Or tell the two men holding shovels to get down in the hole and help the one digging or I'll have them fired.

As boss I should be able to walk right in to the DMV and inquire as to how things can be improved and the need for so much paper. Oh, and I'll give you a date and time when I'm available.

And with due respect, I should be addressed as Sir. After all, I am boss and aren't all government employees ... public servants?

Servant has sort of a humble ring to it.

Alas, along the line we run into a bit of a double standard. The term "Public servants" is simply political misspeak! Reality sets in and again I cave in to my own employees.

The truth like a dream vanishes ... us sardines are still sardines and the big tunas ... well, they're still the arrogant and incompetent big tunas we elect every year.

(Try to find a good tuna? Here's a tip! You'll find the best selection ... in your local market!)

A DUMBED DOWN PEOPLE

What is dumbing us down? Could it be our growing legislation ... and masses of rules and regulations?

The bureaucracy with it's "One-size-fits-all-ism" makes one size fit all rules and regulations. Lets start with driving. Here in California we do the right thing because it's the law and the Cops are watching. We don't necessarily do the right thing because we think it out, it's simpler to get the "law habit."

The police want us to get the "law habit." If the light's green, lets go, if it's red ... stop! See a stop sign, stop.

Most of us come up to a stop sign at three in the morning, and stop even if there is no one around for ten miles. Rather dumb, but it's the law.

Or ... in the Military bureaucracy, I learned fast and first to obey the rules and regulations. I became a Lemming, like the rest of the men. Why? Because a Sergeant was on our back. We were told how to talk, how to walk, how to stand, even where to put our hands ... we were told when to eat, when to sleep, when to work and when to learn. One size fits all. (Literally.) The Military man is not trained to think above a certain level, or use common sense, but to simply obey! Your superiors were better qualified and did the thinking ... from quite a distance, I might add!

Our government legislatures continue the dumbing down process that's woven through the bureaucracy. Seatbelts mandatory, motorcycle helmets mandatory, no smoking, no Colas or Big Mac's ... they make you fat. No room anymore to reason or think, just do it because, well ... it's the law.

And the bureaucracy knows best.

No need to think any more, because that's what we have our Government for. The well educated egghead legislators always know best.

Don't leave your keys in your own ignition switch, it's against the law, it will tempt criminals, and you'll be cited ... not the thief, especially if he is undocumented.

If this keeps up I wonder what Americas population will be like in the next twenty years. Could we say "brain dead?" Fortunately we will have a large strong Government to carry us through.

Times like these are hard times for us old timers who dare to think things out. Not easy for the few of us who are used to using Common Sense and reason to govern our actions.

I wonder why it's against the law to plug in a toaster and take it in the bathtub with you? I should place that sign up over my bath tub. "No toasters in tub with water!"

In Mexico, where I drive, it's defensive driving and common sense decisions. Mexico where rules are simply suggestions ... and only apply when a policeman is near.

I fit in well.