God Is the Author of Creativity

God Is the Author of Creativity

God Is the Author of Creativity

Allow me to share an experience that I had on my way back from East Tennessee to Phoenix this summer.

I took the Southern route through Dallas, Texas and decided to stop at The Dallas Museum of Art. I wanted to make this more than just a 2000 mile “drive back” trip.

The museum had a special exhibit on “Dior, From Paris to The World”. Needless to say, nether words nor images can adequately capture the sheer beauty of the magnificent pieces they have on display.

73 years of genius from the Dior creators. This is high fashion as art.

God Is the Author of Creativity

So, as a Christian I get my clues about beauty, art or esthetic design from God Himself.

God Himself is infinitely beautiful, but also creates incomprehensible beauty.

He is the author of creativity.

Look at the splendor of His creation.

Even though sin entered the world and infected everything we see, we still get glimpses of the extraordinary beauty God designed into creation.

Beauty is for God’s glory and is good:  beauty in and of itself is not a bad thing. I believe Satan hates any beauty unless it is corrupted to only glorify man.

As we are created in His image, we have the gift to create and some of us can create quiet beautiful works of art.

We take the raw materials God created and recombine them into something unique and with talent, and sometimes by accident, we create something extraordinarily beautiful like the Dior show.

“Satan became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone”. – Ron Rhodes

God Is the Author of Creativity

“We have only seen a creation affected and corrupted by the fall”

God Is the Author of Creativity

 

I enjoyed this spectacular exhibit of the design and craftsmanship of thousands of people who worked for Dior. 

It took various crafts to bring about the vision of the Christian Dior designs.

This artwork is not like looking at a painting by a single artist. It’s seeing the humble seamstress who knows the fabric and how to sew the perfect seam. 

The worship of what man creates is vain and empty because the very ability to create is merely a gift from God. Paradoxically, I still enjoyed and was overwhelmed by an exhibit that for all purposes “glorifies man”.

I dare say it was all done for the glory of man and the creators. And that cast a bit of a stench, almost like a wet dog smell, on the whole thing.

It was not right.

If the loveliest High Creator of all color, material, movement, texture, shine, sparkle, even softness of material is neglected it is a waste!

I really enjoyed Dallas but there was a better show that God had planned for me to see in Midland, Texas.

There is a museum called the “Petroleum Museum” that was created by 5 of the bigger oill firms in the U.S. In terms of museums, this is a real gem.

No expense was spared. The exhibits are massive and 1st class. They cover the history of the petroleum industry and of course, all of its geology.

The best part for me was their mineral and gem displays procured, from underneath the earth. I had no idea they had such a world class exhibit of gems and minerals! 

I can’t say that minerals and gems are a hobby of mine, but as I began to move through this exhibit, I was suddenly overwhelmed at the overall excellence of the collection the scope, and extraordinary beauty of these samples.

God Is the Author of Creativity
God Is the Author of Creativity
God Is the Author of Creativity

God Is the Author of Creativity

 

Specimens ranged in size from an apple to a basketball. Every subsequent glass showcase became more and more beautiful to me; more exotic, more extravagant.

And then… Boom!

I realized that I was looking at a display of God’s design sense and handcrafted beauty; far more extraordinary than what man can create and to beat it all, hidden under the earth, in the dirt! HIDDEN!

My eyes and my soul filled with gratitude and praise for this display of our Heavenly Creator then I realized I seen the best of the best that man could design in Dallas at the Dior show then in the middle of nowhere the greater show, the greater display, of beauty was to be found. I knew that neither stop was an accident as God intended for me to see both exhibits.

I felt God say to me: “Randy be grateful to Me for all of My gifts and remember you are only imitating your Heavenly Father.”

Only God as unique. Only His creation is original.

We are mere toddlers in the playpen. Children in a sand box.

 

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Expectations and Uncontrollable Circumstances

Expectations and Uncontrollable Circumstances

Expectations and Uncontrollable Circumstances

After I had biked 16 miles on a paved bike trail that was perfect for seniors that goes from downtown Tucson up through Oro Valley to the base of Mount Lemon, I had to stop and reflect on a issue I had.

The first 8 miles I anticipated, which were all uphill, but because of the clear acceptance and understanding of the challenge I was, what I would say, emotionally stable and calm as I worked on reaching the goal of making it to the top. Conditions and challenge of this bike ride I accepted. I understood my limitations.

SO, the whole time up the incline I am thinking with happy anticipation the way down. It’s going to be a breeze coming back down the bike trail. I won’t even have to pedal.

And then, after making it up to the top, when I turned around at the 8-mile mark unexpected fierce wind, a ridiculous wind came up the valley. It was so strong I couldn’t keep my hat on.

Expectations and Uncontrollable Circumstances

Expectations and Uncontrollable Circumstances

 

I ended up having to pedal even harder going down the hill because the wind was so intense. Struggling against this invisible force I became increasingly irate, extremely angry and I don’t become angry very often.

And I realized that the source of my anger was my frustration and disappointment because the treat that I thought was coming from the second half of the ride, downhill biking, that was taken away by something that I had absolutely no control over.

You might say it was an act of God.

So how does one respond when your hopes, dreams and expectations are stopped mid-stream because of uncontrollable circumstances?

Did I have an intrinsic right to my expectation?

I believe if I had been there with a friend, I would have treated them to a very uncomfortable display of angry outburst.

In life we expect some hardship and anticipate those breaks where we can coast downhill but alas, life is not “fair” most of the time.

Peace comes from Christ if we can give Him our rights, hope’s, dreams and expectations and trust Him even while difficult circumstances would cause us to rage inside.

Does God owe me? NO!

 

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A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing 

IT was a warm late spring morning in Oregon as I sped up the Pacific Highway 5 in my VW micro bus. I was about halfway between Medford and Grants Pass on a very beautiful but lonely, desolate stretch of road when something profound occurred that I would reflect on many times in my life. It was 1982 and I had just turned thirty years old that April. How I ended up in Oregon looking for the meaning of life is another story. It is enough to say that I was divorced and had left three young boys behind in Arizona.

That is also where I had bought a used green VW bus to hold my every belonging I owned and headed for the great North West via California. I ended up discovering and attending a small country church in Applegate, Oregon that was very non-denominational and very Protestant.

For someone like me who was raised a Catholic, it almost felt sacrilegious in a way, like I was entering the house of the enemy. It was at this church that I had learned about The Food Bank Outreach Center north of Applegate in a town called Grants Pass that was looking for volunteers on Saturday’s to help distribute food to those in desperate need. I decided to visit and check it out. I found that I enjoyed helping people and it took my mind off the inner turmoil and conflicts I was experiencing.

 

I looked forward to the Saturday experience…

 

… so very much not only because of the people I met and helped but for the ride to and from Grants Pass. There were only two way’s one could travel from the Applegate and both would take about 45 minutes.

One was a country ride that took me through mountain passes and into open valleys going past farms and ranches along the way. The road was like a beautiful ribbon weaving this way and that and reminded me of racing along The La Mans motor race in France. I fell in love with that ride.

The other was to backtrack to the town of Medford and then take highway 5 north. It was an OK scenic drive but not nearly as much fun, so I did not take it much at all, until, one Saturday.

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

 

I had met a girl by the name of Jan at church the Sunday before and she expressed an interest in helping out at the food bank after I filled her in about it. The catch was she lived in Medford so “would I mind picking her up on the way.” By doing that we would have to take the roundabout route I hardly ever took.

After picking up Jan I found the highway exchange and headed north climbing steadily to a higher elevation until the road flattened out on a huge plateau. I loved this stretch of the freeway because you could see for miles in all directions and view the Rouge river intersecting the highway at many points as it weaved back and forth. Middle of nowhere was an understatement. Nothing around except high prairie, sky and the lonely road we were on.

…Then it happened.

My VW bus had been a great companion up until that point taking me on many miles across the western United States without any trouble at all. At first there was a loud backfire and then she started missing and coughing with smoke belching from the rear end exhaust pipe. Fear gripped me as I pulled to shoulder of the road and rolled to a stop. I gunned the engine just a bit to see if it would clear whatever might be causing the trouble, but my green machine violently shook.

As I shut the bus down, I turned to Jan and in my best, I am not that concerned voice that came out two octaves higher than normal, “I wonder what this is all about.”

Jan turned to me looking very worried and asked “What do you think happened”

“I dunno” I answered trying to gulp in air and calm down my racing heart as I exited the driver’s side front door. “But I am going to find out”

As I reached the back of the bus, smoke was billowing out the vents on the door that sealed the engine from the elements. I opened the panel and allowed the smoke to clear and then peered inside.

Everything looked OK….except….. “what’s this” I said.

Jan looked over the car seat and said “What’s, what?”

“Strange” I said as I shook my head in disbelief. “Why is one spark plug wire no longer attached to the engine. The plug is still attached to the wire and lying next to the engine block.”

“This is just plain crazy” I said trying to get a handle on what I was looking at in the engine.

As I reached for the lose wire and plug and I discovered a very hot spark plug. My fingers seared from the intense heat that sent my whole body jerking backward. That was a dumb move I thought to myself and I stuck a couple my pinkies in my mouth as I surveyed the land around the vehicle.

As I returned to the front and climbed back into the bus, I looked at Jan and she had her closed and what appeared to be praying. When she opened her eyes, I explained to her what happened.

I then voiced my plan.

“I am going to let the engine and spark plug cool down and then try and re-attach it with the tools set I have in back”

Almost as an afterthought I said “I have no idea what caused that to happen. I have never even heard of something like this even happening before. Why would a spark plug become disconnected from the engine like that?”

Jan just shook her head, but I knew she was concerned from the look on her face. “Now what the heck are we going to do out here in the middle of now where”

I thought to myself. “Well I guess there is always a reason for everything” I uttered putting my best spiritual voice forward.

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

 

As the word “everything” barely crossed my lips, when out of nowhere came a small tapping sound on the window of the middle sliding door directly behind me. What the? I thought as I snapped my head around in the direction of the noise. I realized it was a dark figure standing on the outside looking in at me. My first reaction and thought was “all the years of training in karate is going to come in handy now”

I remembered, quickly surveying the situation and thinking what my options would be and how I would be the first line of defense for the women sitting next to me. Jan had her window open before I knew it and was poking her head out to face this dark figure.

“Jan, put your head back in the darn car” I said irritatingly as I prepared to spring sidewise between the two front seats and into the middle section of the van and then to slide the side door open.

I figured it would be faster than getting out of the front door and taking myself around the outside of the car. I was running on pure adrenaline at this point with my heart racing. I figured I had no choice but to deal with this threat head on and as quickly as possible since Jan had made herself and me so vulnerable by opening the window. What Jan said next slowed me down to a small degree and made me feel that maybe we were not facing a potential threat.

 

“Are you OK buddy. What has happened to you”

 

I heard her say as I slide the side door open and faced this figure head on. What I was looking at appeared to be a young teen age boy no older than 15 or16.

His face as well as his cloths were very dirty and around his eye’s and cheeks were big dirty smug spots. My first thought was he had spit on to a rag or something and tried to clean his face.

“Hello” I greeted him as I surveyed him up and down. I then said the only thing I could think of at the moment. “What are you doing out here?”

A million thoughts were racing through my mind at that moment as I fought to calm myself down.

“It’s a long story but the ride I had, dropped me off out here last night” He said looking first at me and then at Jan.

“Would it be possible if you could drop me off at the nearest town”

 

“Sure” I said wondering if I spoke to soon as I once again looked him over for a potential hidden weapon such as a knife, gun or bazooka. Man, do I have a suspicious mind I thought to myself.

“What is your name man” Jan piped in thrusting out her hand out through the window. “Justin” he said as he first shook Jan and then my hand. “I am John, and this is Jan” I responded.

With that short exchange of words of introduction I informed him that I did not know if “we ourselves” would be heading to the “nearest town” and it would be 45 minutes to an hour before the engine would be cool enough for me to attempt to try and re-connect the wayward spark plug to the engine.

We would find out then if my bus was going to be moving on its own power and would “he” like to have a seat in my vehicle, and we could all visit with one another until that moment of truth. Accepting my invitation, I found Justin room on the middle seat directly behind Jan and myself. I was more than curious about this young man so after explaining to him where my companion and I were headed that morning I then asked him how he ended up out in the middle of nowhere.

For the next forty-five minutes or so, Justin told us a story of a journey that had begun a little more than two and half years before. He said his relationship with his parents had deteriorated so badly that after one explosive evening he decided to run away. At the age of fourteen, he hitchhiked from Seattle, Washington and made his way south until he ended up in southern California. Not having any money and no means to support himself at such a young age he fell in with and made friends with many other children his age who were homeless in the LA area.

 

They would try and support each other…

 

…and stay in small groups for protection by sleeping under bridges or in empty buildings and gong through garbage in the back of restaurants for food and always sharing what little they had with each other. He said he was always scared and was beaten up many times by people that were older and stronger than he.

He said he eventually ended up outside of Hollywood and became a young male prostitute. He had a roof over his head most the time and ate better but he hated every moment. He stressed emphatically that he was not gay, but he had no other choice on how to support himself.

He said much of the time he just wanted to die. Eventually he said he decided to leave and make his way home but, on the day, he was to take off he was once again beaten up and what little money he had saved was taken from him.

He left anyway by hitch hiking north on the freeways and turning tricks along the way to pay for food from his rides and the truckers he met. The night before he met us, Justin said he had picked up a ride at a truck stop outside of Ashland, a town just inside the border of Oregon.

 

When he refused to perform sex…

 

…on the truck driver he was riding with, the driver cast him out of the cab of the truck in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere with only the clothes on his back. He made his way to the other side of the berm by the side of the road and curled up and cried himself to sleep.

He was jolted awake by the loud backfire and a badly sounding engine. As he peered over the edge dirt berm, there sat a green VW micro bus and me at the back with two fingers in my mouth looking around.

Man fixing hour glass

A Matter of Timing

 

I interrupted him for the first time through the course of his story and asked him when the last time he had talked with his folks and he told me he had not since leaving two and a half years ago. He wanted to and even tried twice by dialing their phone number but when someone answered he hung up because he did not know what to say. He was ashamed and disgusted with himself for all he had done and been through and really didn’t know if they wanted to even talk to him again.

It was then I realized that his mom and dad didn’t even know if he was alive or dead after all this time. I was a father myself of three young boys, so it crushed my soul when I felt the implications of what he had just said. O my God, O my God, I repeated over and over in my head. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

 

It was then I realized it had been over an hour…

 

…and that should have been plenty of time for the engine to have cooled down. I asked Justin if he wanted to help me so the two of us proceeded to the back of the vehicle and after about 5 minutes attached the wayward spark plug back onto a cold engine block.

As both of us climbed back in to the van, Jan spoke for the first time in over an hour by asking “If you do not mind, could we say a short prayer first before you try starting the car”

I agreed and we did so in front of Justin. Staring out the front window I took in a deep breath and turned the key. The engine fired right up and purred just like a kitten. My two passengers cheered as I sat spellbound by the implications of what just occurred. What were the odds?

As we made our way to Grants Pass in high spirits, I told Justin that I was not real good at this God thing since I had just discovered Him just a couple of months before and I was told that things really do not happen for no reason.

When we made it to the outreach center, I explained all that had happened to Roy, the leader of the organization, who then insisted on feeding Justin and giving him shower and clean clothes. Then Roy approached Justin and recommended that he give his parents a call that very moment. Justin hesitated and looked bewildered so Roy once again said it might be a good idea if he made the call for him and break the ice and see what the reception would be.

With that Justin agreed. Jan and I made our way out of the room so the two of them could have some privacy as they huddled around the phone. We watched through the window as Roy appeared to pray with Justin and then dialed the phone. I watched his face hoping that someone would pick up the phone on the other end.

 

He started talking slowly at first and then became very animated.

 

When he turned and handed the phone to Justin, I could see tears streaming down his face and Justin in turn had slumped down into a chair by the side of the desk and was just hanging on. By the looks of it he needed all the support he could get. Tears just started flowing out of this young man and I knew the same thing was happening on the other end of the phone.

With that I turned and went down the stairs and out of the building and into the allay and began crying myself. I remembered thinking it had been a very long time since I had cried that hard. Maybe since I was a kid.

After about an hour or so I returned and found Roy and He explained haltingly with tears flowing out like a sprinkler.

You know John, I think Justin’s parents had thought something really bad had happened to that boy. They told me they had gotten the police and the FBI involved with his disappearance. I really believe they had lost all hope of him returning after all this time. You should have heard them” Roy paused a moment between gasps and the continued

“I got back on the phone with his dad after they were done and could hear his mother in the background crying. They insisted on wiring me money for a bus ticket for him.”

“John” He quietly continued “I was wondering if you and Jan would mind spending the night and driving him to the bus station in the morning. I have already called for the times of departure”

 

“Are you kidding me, of course we will”  Was all I could think to say.

 

I was so stunned by the events of the last few hours I sat overwhelmed not knowing what else to do. My usual sarcastic, funny self-had completely disappeared and deserted me. “How was all this possible? How in God’s name was this all possible?” I thought as I replayed it all in my head.

I hung out with Justin that evening and then the next morning drove him to the bus stop. I could see anticipation all across his face. He was shaking. After buying his ticket and waiting for the bus to arrive that Justin, this young man of 16 and half years revealed to me that he had decided on taking his own life yesterday morning.

It was then he told me he cried out “If there is a God, and you are really there, please…. please help me.”

That is when my spark plug decided to have a mind of its own.

 

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A Matter of Timing

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Let’s Meet for Coffee

Let’s Meet for Coffee

Let’s Meet for Coffee

Do you know how lucky we are, (and luck had nothing to do with it), that God became a man because of His wonderful mysterious love for us.

Try having an intimate, satisfying normal relationship with an infinitely powerful, all wise perfect gloriously Holy being.

We will be pondering aspect of our relationship with Him for the rest of eternity, but in the meantime, we need a God who came to Earth, who is about our size and who doesn’t mind sitting down with us in the morning and to a cup of coffee.

Yes. He wants to be that intimate, and I am thankful!

 

Let’s Meet for Coffee

Let’s Meet for Coffee

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How is Christianity Different from All Other Religions?

How is Christianity Different from All Other Religions?

How is Christianity Different from All Other Religions?

I had a thought this morning, I believe from the Lord.

How is Christianity altogether different from all other religions?

Well, God’s design of marriage displays or contrasts the differences the most. In a perfect marriage you have an intimate, personal, relational, fully satisfying union.

Only Christianity has this example of perfect union with God (Jesus Christ) and His children, the example being Christ and His bride -the Church, of which we are a part. 

The fact is that Jesus Christ loves you so much that he has done everything possible to set things right, to actually make you into a new creation suitable to be a bride (His bride), who would please Him and be completely compatible for Him – for us to be  conformed to His character and image, the perfect relationship, the perfect marriage for all eternity.

We get a taste of this, a glimpse of this type of a relationship here on Earth but in heaven we will discover the joys of perfect Union with the perfect Creative being of Jesus Christ, the lover of our souls.

Lord, please love on our souls to day. Amen

 

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How is Christianity Different from All Other Religions?

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