tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5723491714589743652024-02-07T22:57:41.979-05:00Mike on Evidences...Evidences in Support of a Biblical faith in Jesus Christ.Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-91103745807840168502016-02-25T16:05:00.000-05:002016-02-25T16:05:22.938-05:00It Doesn't Have to be a Quagmire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyA6d8K0S1qTaL-Ph9nvDhVVWL0Yb8eMdCOTKqhugVjZsP1a8dRCAIwIEEiQHWk0PFFolJ5K4u3maO9U19EjeP39VvXD1sGNnPzx7wndyyjQEmb881N8Y_ujcu0S90Usc63rA85Twnjbeg/s1600/PA+farmland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyA6d8K0S1qTaL-Ph9nvDhVVWL0Yb8eMdCOTKqhugVjZsP1a8dRCAIwIEEiQHWk0PFFolJ5K4u3maO9U19EjeP39VvXD1sGNnPzx7wndyyjQEmb881N8Y_ujcu0S90Usc63rA85Twnjbeg/s320/PA+farmland.jpg" width="320" /></a>I live in Pennsylvania farm country. It’s beautiful. We’ve
had a lot of rain this week.</div>
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The other day my friend John Casey said something that made
me pause. He prayed out a prayer thanking God for the rain <i>“that softens the earth.”</i></div>
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This area has lots of productive farms with crops of corn,
soy beans, tobacco, and others on its fertile, rolling hills. The rain is
obviously important to the farming. </div>
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I immediately had a mental picture of that happening. The softening of the earth. It made sense. Of
course the rain softens the ground. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zCbLtb9boMln72YLWbkih_JPGKFg1oqszYlmBi6eM0ecU4brBpqILoBrWbHFxI8-r9_mPWUbSnzgcBzEaCm1HQNrTFiHqjia-zsFaJVUHbpMg6SNIYAnZm2MM_OZDXxjpFnLR6QlonqS/s1600/ploughing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zCbLtb9boMln72YLWbkih_JPGKFg1oqszYlmBi6eM0ecU4brBpqILoBrWbHFxI8-r9_mPWUbSnzgcBzEaCm1HQNrTFiHqjia-zsFaJVUHbpMg6SNIYAnZm2MM_OZDXxjpFnLR6QlonqS/s320/ploughing.jpg" width="320" /></a>Just a few minutes ago I let our dog out into the back yard.
A branch had gotten blown down. I walked over to pick it up, and surprise… the
ground was very soft and squishy under my feet from the rain today. One part
was like a quagmire.</div>
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When I think of rain and farms, I think of the fact that plants
have to have rain to grow. Without water, lawns dry up, flowers die, crops
fail, and the fire danger exponentially rises. While all that is true, I don’t
think I’d ever considered the importance of the softening of the ground that
rain causes.</div>
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Wouldn’t it be a loving and helpful thing for God to do, -
to soften the ground before the planting season? How much easier to turn over
the soil that has absorbed water, than just dry, hard soil. </div>
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An old-time writer in India talked of the
benefit of rain to rice crops. “<i>A few
showers in February and April are hailed with delight because they soften the
ground for ploughing.”<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">[1]</span></b></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
</i>No wonder “April showers brings May flowers?!” </div>
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softening of the soil helps solve this problem. Columnist Linda Ly observes, <i>“Luckily, rain softens the soil, making
weeding much easier on the hands and back.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"> <!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftn2" title="">[2]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftn2" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></div>
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It’s that softening that allows plows to cut more easily and
those weeds to pop out in one piece. How kind of God? </div>
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Scripture records <i>“You
visit the earth and cause it to overflow;<br />
You greatly enrich it;<br />
The stream of God is full of water;<br />
You prepare their grain, for thus <b>You
prepare the earth</b>.<br />
<b><sup>10 </sup></b>You water its furrows abundantly,<br />
You settle its ridges,<br />
<b>You soften it with showers</b>,<br />
You bless its growth.<br />
<b><sup>11 </sup></b>You have crowned the year with Your bounty…”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftn3" title="">[3]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftn3" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i></div>
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The next ttime you tromp through mud, remember how ultimately
helpful that process is.</div>
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John Casey’s corollary prayer point that day was that our
hearts should be soft. It doesn’t have to be a quagmire. There’s something to
be said for that. A soft heart is a prepared heart. Prepared for God’s
purposes.</div>
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God loves YOU today. </div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
LSS O’Malley, “Howrah,” (New Delhi: Logos Press, 1909) p 66</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> “Three
Quick Tips for Gardening After the Rain,” Linda Ly, <a href="http://www.kcet.org/home-garden/3-quick-tips-for-gardening-after-the-rain">http://www.kcet.org/home-garden/3-quick-tips-for-gardening-after-the-rain</a>
March 4, 2014</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/It%20Doesn't%20Have%20to%20Be%20a%20Quagmire.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Psalm 65:9-11 (New American Standard Bible)</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-2410493537036882412016-01-03T19:16:00.000-05:002016-01-03T19:18:55.154-05:00The War<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We live in a war zone.</div>
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Mankind’s enemy, Satan, is real.</div>
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Jesus knew he was
real. He had encounters with the devil and his demonic forces. Christ had much
to say about satan and the invisible spiritual world. </div>
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As I write, that ages-long war is raging. It is a war that
is manifested in the physical through the agency of human beings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYmfNKacjqUTOhKsSxMjflrSNKR_nTT4KnT9PgvPQnTf_Oa6xKtdmeR34ozB_J1UFeLCPyIQHffs2bi9tir9mEY3q7cUnJqslLn4lQ-vUJMFsE2M-JQXRYDLXQbxfGNbYYZFsvBfAKWtC/s1600/Battle_of_britain_air_observer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYmfNKacjqUTOhKsSxMjflrSNKR_nTT4KnT9PgvPQnTf_Oa6xKtdmeR34ozB_J1UFeLCPyIQHffs2bi9tir9mEY3q7cUnJqslLn4lQ-vUJMFsE2M-JQXRYDLXQbxfGNbYYZFsvBfAKWtC/s320/Battle_of_britain_air_observer.jpg" width="320" /></a>In World War II, Germany blitzed England, dropping 50,000
tons of bombs on the British between September 1940 and May 1941. Hitler hoped
to gain the surrender of England. Instead, <i>“British
society became in many ways strengthened by the blitz, and more, rather than
less, determined to stay the course.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn1" title="">[1]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></div>
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The British knew they were in a war, they expected it, and
they stood strong.</div>
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The Christian must have a mentality similar to what the English
had in 1940. It is true that Jesus has won the ultimate victory already, by his
death, burial, and resurrection. But in God’s infinite wisdom, that victory is
not actualized yet. Our lives are lived in the context of a great cosmic battle.</div>
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The enemy is not the Muslims, the LGBT community, liberal
politicians, the police, Christians, Donald Trump, Barrack Obama, the
Hispanics, the Black Lives Matter movement , the rich, the NRA, Planned
Parenthood, or the system. We all have opinions about these, and they matter, -
but they are not the enemy.</div>
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Paul said, <i>“For our
struggle is not against flesh and blood… but against the spiritual forces of
evil in the heavenly realms.”</i><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Jesus speaking to his closest follower, Peter, said, <i>“Get away from me Satan! You are a dangerous trap to me. You are seeing
things merely from a human point of view, not from God’s.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn3" title="">[3]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn3" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span>
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If Jesus, - seeing things not merely from a human
perspective - is considering his friend a tool of Satan… then we’d best take
notice. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLsEPRrJ5BUTavLmaKO8hdnQcgYstd9QctklU-jOtls-IsyE1daOU8aWS3I_ocjTIuzx8jeHqofSve84_3Q9aXKTrgYe2Mnw2Pudu2XTkgdjt0zFvdy_bXZ8f_KkVLJe8iiUXCfekf6Js/s1600/Do_Not_Cross%252C_Crime_Scene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLsEPRrJ5BUTavLmaKO8hdnQcgYstd9QctklU-jOtls-IsyE1daOU8aWS3I_ocjTIuzx8jeHqofSve84_3Q9aXKTrgYe2Mnw2Pudu2XTkgdjt0zFvdy_bXZ8f_KkVLJe8iiUXCfekf6Js/s320/Do_Not_Cross%252C_Crime_Scene.jpg" width="320" /></a>When a “Christian” shoots someone at an abortion clinic, that
is a work of the devil. I don’t care what church he goes to or what he
believes.</div>
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When a Muslim guns down people at a concert, that is a work
of the devil, no matter what his justification or cause.</div>
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When I’m hurtful to another person, that is a work of the devil through me. We
call it sin. It’s my fault yet it’s
exacerbated in some way, shape, or form by “<i>spiritual
forces of evil</i>.” I was the one through which the offense came. I was
oblivious to the battle and the nature of the attack.</div>
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It’s necessary to be aware. We are not Switzerland. We are
not neutral. Paul says, <i>“We are not
unaware of his schemes.”</i><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>When
the siren sounded the Brits headed for their bomb shelters. They sowed name
tags into their clothing for identification. They lived in the light of an
active conflict going on.</div>
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What are our weapons? </div>
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Not Jihad. Not a gun. Not wealth or control. Not blocking a
freeway on-ramp. Not bigotry. Not law-suits. Not blaming others or the system.
Not divorce. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Dr1fudQqeeWbDIb15Kdz7xbhYnhgpBUkG-7Oiuve4VK1LSD711KRWVS0V3cVq4WVaouIsD5kBk9y9MqSNam_XEm7pt0eitUWFhrQO_HvmYs8k6gj-foosfs0Fy00J_8f7mSr8FjOqYkz/s1600/spiritualwarfare2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Dr1fudQqeeWbDIb15Kdz7xbhYnhgpBUkG-7Oiuve4VK1LSD711KRWVS0V3cVq4WVaouIsD5kBk9y9MqSNam_XEm7pt0eitUWFhrQO_HvmYs8k6gj-foosfs0Fy00J_8f7mSr8FjOqYkz/s320/spiritualwarfare2.jpg" width="320" /></a>The specific <i>‘weapon’</i>
Paul was talking about was forgiveness. That’s just one. There are others.
Love. Humility. Patience. Doing the right thing. Finding out the Truth and
siding with it. The list goes on.</div>
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In short, all the things Jesus did.</div>
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Peter, the one Jesus called ‘satan’, learned his lesson.
Today he tells us<b><i>, </i></b><i>“Stay alert. Watch out
for your great enemy the devil… stand firm against him, and be strong in your
faith.<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn5" title="">[5]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftn5" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i></div>
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We’re in a war, folks. Stay alert!</div>
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<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The Guardian, “Civilians on the Front Line” by Richard Overy, Sunday, 6
September, 2009.</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Ephesians 6:12 (New International Version)</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn3">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 16:23 (New Living Translation)</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn4">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> 2
Corinthians 2:11 (New International Version)</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn5">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Administrator/My%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/The%20War.docx#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> 1
Peter 5:8-9 (New Living Translation)</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-59138259474117603952015-12-17T14:12:00.000-05:002015-12-21T12:26:56.471-05:00An Afternoon on the Coromandel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day when I lived in India, I was traveling down the East
Coast by train. I often made that trip. It took 27 hours including an
overnight, on the <i>“Coromandel Express”</i>
passenger train.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjToxjERpaX0sfMB303q8XjDCIiht5eT-Ccv0yE678fua-x08GhcUp-iACo1WUJwjWFwgLu4rjL96czBxbXQxFQ1HmMIdkLLMiFIwlXDjBVxJCq7IjSGo2Qy8n0zdXj8FMVzJTnrFxptZDn/s1600/Coromandel+Express.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjToxjERpaX0sfMB303q8XjDCIiht5eT-Ccv0yE678fua-x08GhcUp-iACo1WUJwjWFwgLu4rjL96czBxbXQxFQ1HmMIdkLLMiFIwlXDjBVxJCq7IjSGo2Qy8n0zdXj8FMVzJTnrFxptZDn/s320/Coromandel+Express.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was in the state of Andhra Pradesh heading south. The
Coromandel used to stop along the way to drop passengers and pick up waiting
ones. On this day I was almost alone in my small 8 person section of the coach.
About mid-day we stopped at one of the typical stations. Hawkers sold coffee,
tea, snacks, and numerous other things. There was a din of voices as they
shouted, <i>“Chai, chai, chaiya, kofee,
kofee, kofeeeee!”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A young boy entered my compartment, looked at the seat
numbers, and sat down opposite me. We nodded to each other and said no more. We
were both by the window, and no one else was in our section. After a few
minutes, the long train began to roll forward toward south India and my
destination of Chennai.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We rode for a while in silence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At some point I started up a conversation with him. The boy,
about 12 years old, spoke very good English. He was a Muslim. He was heading
somewhere to do something, I don’t really remember. He was not going too far,
relatively speaking for an Indian train. I think he was going to be traveling
for 3-4 hours and would be getting off in another town in the same state of
Andhra Pradesh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked him questions about his family, his school, and
other things. He asked me where I was from, what I was doing in India, how did
I like India. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At some point, I asked him about
his religion. He answered my questions about his Islamic beliefs and practices.
He was very articulate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it came my turn. I spoke to
him about Jesus and how he had changed my life after I began to read the Bible
in college.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be honest, I don’t remember a
lot of the conversation details. There was nothing said that
stands out in my memory.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I do remember vividly, is that
this 12 year old was captivated by what I said about Jesus. It was
magical. I believe the Holy Spirit was in that compartment. It was natural,
not forced, not striving in any way. Just a relaxed, friendly exchange of ideas. We both talked. We both listened. Oh my, he listened! He was absorbing it! That is my outstanding memory of this
event. I knew that what I was saying was piercing into his soul and mind. Light
from above! I did not attempt to <i>“lead
him in a sinner’s prayer.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhreypzBd55saF2113xmxBICCl3VpHF3AbHMNBPYHKVaW0PZPf44GbLIrZALp3eHqdVq3kB1ro7E5jF9eYvzzt5UzwctaahKsWKaWC-VIZnCIDH0iIeasyo-K3uSvYvSNqsR9amWFjMLvt/s1600/vijayawada+platform.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhreypzBd55saF2113xmxBICCl3VpHF3AbHMNBPYHKVaW0PZPf44GbLIrZALp3eHqdVq3kB1ro7E5jF9eYvzzt5UzwctaahKsWKaWC-VIZnCIDH0iIeasyo-K3uSvYvSNqsR9amWFjMLvt/s320/vijayawada+platform.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally the train rolled to a stop.
He gathered his things and got up. We shook hands and he got out. I encouraged
him to learn more about Jesus if he got a chance. On the platform he looked up
and we waved and realized how cool those moments had been. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The train moved ahead. I never saw him again.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll never forget the magic of that
conversation.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-38870679232195169412015-11-19T16:52:00.000-05:002015-11-19T16:52:12.827-05:00Says Who?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of us have some source of authority for our thoughts about
God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One man says, “<i>Allah is
God</i>.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another says, <i>“Jesus
is God.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEHqA6ouMdRGozU2AIRxGBoPJ6rqmn8RDzXA2hwSbddbQ6fpAsF2cLE7Pshs4KAramrRZPWVYA6k6i45Hiowdrxzq5ji-pfaA8GgFrcE20abyEhmvcWnRU66OLeVyRDkqhHMd6GnZsHxa/s1600/Krishna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEHqA6ouMdRGozU2AIRxGBoPJ6rqmn8RDzXA2hwSbddbQ6fpAsF2cLE7Pshs4KAramrRZPWVYA6k6i45Hiowdrxzq5ji-pfaA8GgFrcE20abyEhmvcWnRU66OLeVyRDkqhHMd6GnZsHxa/s320/Krishna.jpg" width="187" /></a><i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still another says, <i>“There
is no God.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I met a young man named Gautam early in my time in India. He
would visit us and we’d exchange our ideas about God. He worshiped Krishna from
whom we get the Hare Krishna group. If I said, <i>“Jesus can heal the blind,”</i> Gautam would say, <i>“So can Krishna.”</i> Whatever Jesus could do, Krishna could do. It was
like the old Broadway song, <i>“Anything you
can do I can do better.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What was Gautam’s
source of authority in believing in Krishna? It was the religion of his family.
He was born into it and that’s what he knew. Why question that?<br />
<br />
Most of us are
like that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone has an ultimate source of authority for their “God
statements.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember my brother once saying to me, <i>“I have my own
ideas about God.”</i> I got the impression that he’d thought about it. My guess is
that he based his ideas on his experience in life to that point. His own
thoughts were his source of authority. Many of us do that too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAofMbnbchzIO1OHc5zBdyvDb-VGHYubgcoVYhF-LMKC2V-32fbUGaVn659eoBFHSMcQC0xSGLIaHW-RrtnKuRUlK3oIgXNePpT79FUBYIf-jxYZZnxMzY7tLfY42tyFrbS1CZ9QRH-usN/s1600/Afghan+school.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAofMbnbchzIO1OHc5zBdyvDb-VGHYubgcoVYhF-LMKC2V-32fbUGaVn659eoBFHSMcQC0xSGLIaHW-RrtnKuRUlK3oIgXNePpT79FUBYIf-jxYZZnxMzY7tLfY42tyFrbS1CZ9QRH-usN/s320/Afghan+school.jpg" width="320" /></a>For those who say <i>“Allah is God,”</i> that statement is usually
based on the weight of societal opinion and on parental teachings. The Qur'an
reinforces the belief.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the atheist, his authority might be his own opinion, based
on experience and what he considers scientific evidence. Certainly the
agreement of many in academia is a reinforcement.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When a Christian says, <i>“I
believe in Jesus,”</i> it may be from the same set of “authorities,” namely,
culture, family, experience, etc. These can help, but is there more? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For many, myself included, there is the person, Jesus
Christ. His life is recorded in the four Gospels of the New Testament. The testimony of who Jesus was and is, is an
objective source of authority. If Jesus is truly God who came into the world as a man, then the Bible
is a very compelling basis for a belief system.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What is your source of authority for your God statements? Is
it your upbringing or traditional beliefs? Is it whatever is popular in our culture
today? Maybe it’s your own opinion or proceeds from some hurtful experience?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFjdYOEzgd81mMUBZaYU16IHeYYWGzCiFulnoAE1DGMwESlhUrCU9-1kT_sdiHYWT1ASu0lO17S0WdXCTwjK1EYoF8cTMDfTMby7JitjZldifWwQu2OIHEVrcSOEL7LTz8qVl48Z6aYjc/s1600/NT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFjdYOEzgd81mMUBZaYU16IHeYYWGzCiFulnoAE1DGMwESlhUrCU9-1kT_sdiHYWT1ASu0lO17S0WdXCTwjK1EYoF8cTMDfTMby7JitjZldifWwQu2OIHEVrcSOEL7LTz8qVl48Z6aYjc/s320/NT.jpg" width="320" /></a>The truth about God is out there. It’s either this or that.
It’s either what you believe or it isn’t. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You remember my friend Gautam who was so stubborn about his
belief in Krishna? Eventually, Gautam trusted in Jesus Christ as his Lord and
Savior. Something about Christ sank in. He still actively promotes Jesus today,
more than 30 years later. </div>
<br />
I recommend that you read about Jesus Christ in the Bible
today. Jesus said, <i>“The one who asks will
always receive; the one who is searching will always find, and the door is
opened to the man who knocks.”</i> (Matt 7:8)</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-53666003984701694122015-10-29T14:12:00.001-04:002015-10-29T14:12:36.588-04:00The Cost of a Sheep<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxA0Xgw4weWlDhGg2r62q0FaGyG66tBPRaRt9TcXcBCC9Z3BTjzsMO9Zh0_NQqVc8raeWVdVB4MkUdAPa-iGI1wT1Xtd5kQ2lq5uIDLBoiPzDgRPmzd1mQ0uRUSzmWmaWRt0YSSBb6c8L/s1600/Grazing_katahdins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxA0Xgw4weWlDhGg2r62q0FaGyG66tBPRaRt9TcXcBCC9Z3BTjzsMO9Zh0_NQqVc8raeWVdVB4MkUdAPa-iGI1wT1Xtd5kQ2lq5uIDLBoiPzDgRPmzd1mQ0uRUSzmWmaWRt0YSSBb6c8L/s320/Grazing_katahdins.jpg" width="320" /></a>The cost of a sheep varies, but on average a “Katahdin cross”
ewe is worth about $300.<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftn1" title="">[1]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftn1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was driving into a nearby town recently. I noticed a crowd
of about three dozen gathered around a food giveaway program. People of all
ages and descriptions stood in line to receive the weekly ration of free food
being offered by a local charity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent the next two hours with co-workers at our missions’
facility about a mile further up the street. We offered conversation, a
listening ear, and prayer, and an opportunity to hear the “Good News” of Jesus
Christ. We gave stuff away too: drinks, snacks, and biblical literature. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few people came. I spent 45 minutes talking to a 60-ish, self-professed
alcoholic named John. He had a long white beard. I thought of Moses in the
Bible. We reminisced about our youthful years. Ironically we had had the same “favorite
band,” <i>The Who</i>. It was a touch point.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTyu12xzUhNkPrVFPuvXCyKJ4e69KLriSSEPIwZC701RUIVmMgtzO_1qpUbN2cBXlNMr5h7RoUUu2W9usW1NoFrk7XOL4hR3S3KtfQZfgmG8eH5a9IukbsEPA01M0OJDeSir6a1UTqj8Z/s1600/The+Who.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTyu12xzUhNkPrVFPuvXCyKJ4e69KLriSSEPIwZC701RUIVmMgtzO_1qpUbN2cBXlNMr5h7RoUUu2W9usW1NoFrk7XOL4hR3S3KtfQZfgmG8eH5a9IukbsEPA01M0OJDeSir6a1UTqj8Z/s200/The+Who.jpeg" width="200" /></a>I sought to explain my life since becoming a Christian, and
told him how that in the mid-1970’s, the Lord had changed me. He mentioned a
man from the Rescue Mission who had helped him so much. I said, <i>“Why don’t you go over to the Mission and
ask him how you can help? You can help many of the guys in there.”</i> He made
no comment on that. Finally I prayed for him as he had requested me to do in
the beginning. As soon as I said, <i>“Amen,”</i> he continued a story. It didn’t seem
he listened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another man with a hoodie pulled over his eyes entered and
sat down. He was visibly shaking. When
he talked his voice was a heart-rending sob. As my friend talked with the
distraught man, I thought, <i>“He should be
under supervised care, and yet he’s walking around the streets.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I left and drove back up Main Street. I saw another cluster
of 20 or so people gathered around a table with a <i>“Free Cell Phones,”</i> sign.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A block farther on, a sign hanging on the front of a bank
promised, <i>“We’ll Pay You To Open An
Account.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0BKZjWOFqCOycU2sYh_aDSrieqs326BpajAbDbYv6kRDtvQOdZLTYxZu3LsnYCoJBHs37sUgRSoTAqhphrE17ksAFlmJKmRhl97kov9Wp3bH9yByiAuik-ikyBfXVCHDVCAIVn16-euNF/s1600/teach-a-man-to-fish2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0BKZjWOFqCOycU2sYh_aDSrieqs326BpajAbDbYv6kRDtvQOdZLTYxZu3LsnYCoJBHs37sUgRSoTAqhphrE17ksAFlmJKmRhl97kov9Wp3bH9yByiAuik-ikyBfXVCHDVCAIVn16-euNF/s320/teach-a-man-to-fish2.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt sad. People here are being given things. I thought of
the word “entitlement.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I served in India as a missionary, we saw many
charitable works. We avoided the ones that created dependency like the plague. The
best ones sought to help people to help themselves. It has something to do with
self-respect that is rooted in the value of a person, which in turn, is rooted in the Gospel.</div>
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That’s probably why I felt sad. The people of this
Pennsylvania town are loveable and worthy of respect. The man who looked like
Moses and the crying man may be messed up, but there is a God-given value they
have that is incalculable. Jesus once said, <i>“What
man among you, if he had a sheep that fell into a pit ... wouldn’t take
hold of it and lift it out? <b><sup> </sup></b>A man is worth far
more than a sheep …”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftn2" title="">[2]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftn2" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i>
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A man is worth <i>far
more</i> than a sheep. </div>
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Our efforts to help people must never lose sight of this. </div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> https://www.quora.com/How-much-does-a-sheep-cost</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/The%20Cost%20of%20a%20Sheep.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 12:11-12 (Holman Christian Study Bible)</div>
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</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-89684554458981432662015-09-26T08:51:00.000-04:002015-09-26T08:51:03.173-04:00Where Did That Come From?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jesus once asked some lawyers a simple question, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Why<b>
</b>are you thinking evil in your hearts?”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;" title="">[1]</a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That is a good question. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Fab9SEejmXfH_YTiKp7X6VbjGLMYORLBw5P7AMGwihsbHskOQKqknDamFTWGeJ0BRxeXA6JmANdkWf4_rb8y4GAUiKv3ShDtcSEG7j2DriGrunQOk8RXwtTNewTbwBL7xoQavLQRMyNL/s1600/banco-drive-Through1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Fab9SEejmXfH_YTiKp7X6VbjGLMYORLBw5P7AMGwihsbHskOQKqknDamFTWGeJ0BRxeXA6JmANdkWf4_rb8y4GAUiKv3ShDtcSEG7j2DriGrunQOk8RXwtTNewTbwBL7xoQavLQRMyNL/s320/banco-drive-Through1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other day I was on my scooter at the drive up window of
my bank. I was third in line. As I sat waiting, I thought, <i>“I wonder if it’s weird for the car in front of me to see me on the
scooter behind her? I am outside the normal confines of a car.”</i> </span><br />
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then my
thoughts changed directions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I
wonder if she thinks I could just walk up to her passenger window and demand
her money.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My thoughts quickly flashed as to what that would look like,
including popping back on the scooter and making my getaway. (I had been told
once that a man held up that bank and escaped on a bicycle.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlk9VuLu_ohEQdiu2PUa92SXFDpcnUS_sUSRN-DTC6rEACELWHldPz8LVKg1bTMD3b121JY8Ys5y2jGMmAO9wyWIeIXL2AT2qD5fBTj_pgfDHNa5JbVFr5J2I4zrNMGXZJYhXV3j4CJ-kO/s1600/add_toon_info.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlk9VuLu_ohEQdiu2PUa92SXFDpcnUS_sUSRN-DTC6rEACELWHldPz8LVKg1bTMD3b121JY8Ys5y2jGMmAO9wyWIeIXL2AT2qD5fBTj_pgfDHNa5JbVFr5J2I4zrNMGXZJYhXV3j4CJ-kO/s320/add_toon_info.gif" width="320" /></a><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then I snapped back to reality. <i>“What am I thinking about? This is crazy!”</i> The motorist in front of
me drove away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The truth is, it <i><u>was</u></i>
crazy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But haven’t we all had thoughts like that before? I mean dark,
off-the-wall thoughts? What is worse, haven’t we all <i>done</i> shameful or guilt-producing things?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve heard it said, the one doctrine of Christianity that you
cannot argue with is the doctrine of sin. We are all sinners with corrupt hearts. </span><br />
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We have all experienced it. We’ve
been on the receiving end and we’ve dished it out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although my thoughts that day were evil in nature, I did not
sin. Had I dwelt on them, and eventually acted on them, it would have been sin.
But just having the fleeting thought without premeditation, and then rejecting
it, was not a sin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Bible says these evil thoughts come from our hearts.<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> My
criminal thoughts originated in what theologians call my <i>“sin nature.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Spiritual philosopher Dallas Willard writes about
the sin nature. <i>“The condition of normal
human life is one where the inner resources of the person are weakened or dead,
and where the factors of human life do not interrelate as they were intended by
their nature and function to do… The person is effectively turned away from his
or her own good. The individual may and often does wish to be good and to do
what is right, but he or she is prepared, is set, to do evil. It is what the
individual is ready to do without thinking. In this condition, the mind is
confused, ignorant, and misguided. The emotions are simultaneously dominant of
personality and in conflict with one another. The body and the social
environment are filled with regular patterns of wrongdoing and are constantly
inclined toward doing what is wrong.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn3" title="">[3]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn3" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If Willard is right, we’re all out of whack. We’re crazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People can argue about who Jesus was and what he did. They
can argue about teachings of the Bible. They can say this religion is better
than that one. They can say there is no god.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59ltXhIjJBEl-HOD48h9iw1pA1DWoRRN9jdgr3MReN67w3yedS-yWfFLJUo0qtxyljOEfM3lkJKkPxZSRRYXltMv__rPR8GDNgA9ZenwZLf16UfW141Gz35nQdqmehsI1K3_Heu5Ftkxf/s1600/good-619904_640.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59ltXhIjJBEl-HOD48h9iw1pA1DWoRRN9jdgr3MReN67w3yedS-yWfFLJUo0qtxyljOEfM3lkJKkPxZSRRYXltMv__rPR8GDNgA9ZenwZLf16UfW141Gz35nQdqmehsI1K3_Heu5Ftkxf/s320/good-619904_640.png" width="320" /></a><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But the one doctrine that cannot be argued against with intellectual
integrity is the doctrine of sin. It’s our universal experience and is captured
in phrases like, <i>“Nobody is perfect,”</i>
“<i>I don’t know why I did that,” </i>or <i>“My bad.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If it’s true that we’re imperfect and bad, then what else in
the Bible might be true? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe this statement: <i>“…he</i>
<i>shall save his people from their sins.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn4" title="">[4]</a></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftn4" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i>I
submit to you that Jesus, and Jesus alone, can save us from the truth of our
sin nature.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 9:4 (Holman Christian Study Bible)</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 15:19 (HCSB)</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> Dallas
Willard, <i>The Great Omission </i>(Oxford:
Monarch Books, 2006) 146-147</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Jesus%20onced%20healed%20a%20man%20of%20paralysis.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 1:21 (HCSB)</div>
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</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-40745691720629280022015-09-10T20:28:00.002-04:002015-09-10T20:28:58.329-04:00The Miracle Bicycle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Three of us were in the town of Tremont, Pennsylvania. It
was a hot summer day. A church from the nearby town of Bethel was having an
event in a park in Tremont.</div>
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It was sort of a
Christian carnival, offering several attractions to the local people. They had basic
medical screenings by nurses. There was a distribution of groceries, household, and baby products for free. There were free drinks and hotdogs.
There were bands and individuals playing music. There were face-painters for
the kids, balloons, and they were raffling off several bicycles.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhd8dhsDV8wWFQImj6_BliYPndNqhDLVtERBfavssZ_UrD_1jTJVhBsVomTNkjwGb_gRPEu5XJH7WaoMtAXHvWISLU5hZbMCEg4lioARXhINIpAt9QHiR1wzJS56OPOloHEiT6Z6NvEkaJ/s1600/prayer+station+again+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhd8dhsDV8wWFQImj6_BliYPndNqhDLVtERBfavssZ_UrD_1jTJVhBsVomTNkjwGb_gRPEu5XJH7WaoMtAXHvWISLU5hZbMCEg4lioARXhINIpAt9QHiR1wzJS56OPOloHEiT6Z6NvEkaJ/s320/prayer+station+again+2.jpg" width="320" /></a>The organizer, Pastor Ted, had invited three of us working
in Youth With A Mission to have a “Prayer Station” at the event.</div>
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A Prayer Station is basically a table with a banner over it.
We simply offer to pray for passers-by. If they say yes, we ask what they want
prayer for. If they refuse… no problem, they continue on their way. It’s a way
of blessing people. </div>
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It was a fun event, but Pastor Ted hoped the love, generosity,
and fun would have a spiritual impact on some. There were about 200 people
there.</div>
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My friends, Chris, Bill, and I set up between the hot dog
stand and the music. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It started out slow, but after a while a middle-aged man
approached me. His name was Ron.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“What is this?” </i>he asked. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The man looked haggard and weather-beaten to me. My
immediate thought was he’d been a hard-drinking man. He had that look about
him. We talked for a few minutes. Ron was not involved in religion in any way.
He was not religious but curious that we were there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> “Can I pray for you?”</i>
I asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He replied, <i>“Why not?” </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Any specific thing I can pray for?”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“No, just pray,”</i> he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I prayed a prayer of blessing over him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKrADJZ8Ok-ymrlu3QMtgTWp2eXTAVFCA4aUxkGHSBZIVE91haqIJpTIcW6KfALfjddy0Wryx-h9-NxuHImySquLIFRrPrr-OE5hAdBoa-FqF185poJiZM9sDvcpiS7VSNZl9570HA9Ce/s1600/boy+praying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKrADJZ8Ok-ymrlu3QMtgTWp2eXTAVFCA4aUxkGHSBZIVE91haqIJpTIcW6KfALfjddy0Wryx-h9-NxuHImySquLIFRrPrr-OE5hAdBoa-FqF185poJiZM9sDvcpiS7VSNZl9570HA9Ce/s320/boy+praying.jpg" width="212" /></a>When I finished, after about 45 seconds, we opened our eyes.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ron said, <i>“I haven’t had a prayer like that prayed over me
in 30 years!”</i> He seemed really excited. So was I.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Immediately he asked, <i>“Can you pray for my son?”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Sure, ”</i> I said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Andrew!"</i> He called to a boy of about 12 standing nearby.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boy came over and Ron said to him, <i>“This man’s gonna
pray for you. He just prayed for me. It was really good.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Andrew looked sheepish and did not seem at all excited about
prospect of being prayed for. I waited
for Ron to give a nod and then I prayed a short prayer, in Jesus’ name, for
Andrew. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I encouraged Ron to get involved in a church, and read his
Bible. He seemed genuinely encouraged as we said our goodbyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later in the day, they had the drawing for the bicycles.
There were three bicycles. The first two went to an adult and to a little girl.
They drew a name for the third one, a really nice white bike. The name they
announced was Andrew! Andrew went
forward and claimed his prize. I clapped!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD0mEPeJQ1sbqtYUSDG6TAgMTe9KMqElgitLuZyPS-i-vK6FO2m0vYb6fXN0wfP5Oruxvd5f4c3jFu-SzhTXo0Ar7d2VSoRKkp_tQ6uArlJlQ3PMOuAG1MdfXwBL9g8fTjgCo8fVgWf3m/s1600/mountain-307877_640.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD0mEPeJQ1sbqtYUSDG6TAgMTe9KMqElgitLuZyPS-i-vK6FO2m0vYb6fXN0wfP5Oruxvd5f4c3jFu-SzhTXo0Ar7d2VSoRKkp_tQ6uArlJlQ3PMOuAG1MdfXwBL9g8fTjgCo8fVgWf3m/s320/mountain-307877_640.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later, as I walked back from the stage to the “Prayer
Station” table, Andrew and his dad were standing off to the side, about ten
yards away looking at the bicycle. Ron waved me over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Turning to Andrew he said, <i>“See Andrew. See what God can do!
God answers prayers!”</i> It was the unchurched man who was now preaching Christ.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not saying that if you pray, God will give you a new
bicycle. He could do it. He did it that day. He’s good. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But my point is that Ron was <u>convinced</u> that God had
answered prayer that day. He was teaching it to his son.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We find God in unexpected times and places. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Talk to Him today.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
He is near.</div>
<br />
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-48453066957018892492015-08-21T06:40:00.000-04:002015-08-21T06:40:04.126-04:00Joy at a Stop Sign<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in the early 70’s, my friend Pat said to me, <i>“Do you want to go on a double date?” </i>He
was seeing a girl named Marilyn that he’d met at school in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. She was
a Christian. I was amazed that a religious girl would date Pat. As “wanna-be”
hippies, he and I were into drugs, drinking, rock ‘n roll, and women. But this
surprised me? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pat said, <i>“She has a
sister. Do you want to go?”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did go… and we had
a date, but I don’t remember it at all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember the sister was cute. I called her to ask if I
could go to Coeur d’Alene to see her. She said yes, and so I showed up at her
house one evening. Somehow, it happened that her mother invited us to join her
in going to see some friends. When we arrived, it turned out to be some sort of
church house group.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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</v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_3" o:spid="_x0000_s1027" type="#_x0000_t75"
alt="House Group.jpg" style='position:absolute;margin-left:1.5pt;margin-top:-.2pt;
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all sat in a circle. They did some preliminaries like singing. Then, at a
certain point, my date’s mother said, <i>‘Now,
let’s all go around the circle and each one share what Jesus means to you.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFoInkuZQuJlSRrvAHHaCoSYe8_DHiDt3K4mFFEsRRd98fbOpCMAbG9s4MHUd2vUBcGrgzkuKYmbU_CmJk34kLt7bZSv0soOZLphmJ7vi4cBkTi2IrKgNRELh18RhRZNIsfzN-obzMYCk/s1600/House+Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFoInkuZQuJlSRrvAHHaCoSYe8_DHiDt3K4mFFEsRRd98fbOpCMAbG9s4MHUd2vUBcGrgzkuKYmbU_CmJk34kLt7bZSv0soOZLphmJ7vi4cBkTi2IrKgNRELh18RhRZNIsfzN-obzMYCk/s320/House+Group.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was not a Christian. I had not read the Bible. I did not
go to church, although I could remember going to Sunday School at the Lutheran
church as a young boy. I remember the Bible story comic strips. I really liked
the pictures of Roman soldiers. That appealed to me. But that was long ago, and
I was an unchurched heathen at this point.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat observing the 20-odd people, one at a time going
around the circle, talking about what Jesus meant to them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally my date spoke. I don’t think I heard what she said.
I was busy composing my own speech mentally. Now it was my turn. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat there. There was an uncomfortable silence. All eyes were
on me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally I stood. I said something like, <i>“Yeah, I think Jesus is cool. I believe in God.”</i> I sat down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_0" o:spid="_x0000_s1026"
type="#_x0000_t75" alt="4 way stop.jpg" style='position:absolute;
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visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square;mso-wrap-distance-left:9pt;
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o:title="4 way stop"/>
<w:wrap type="square"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]-->The
night ended. I never saw that girl, her mother, or her group again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I do remember an experience going home that night
long-ago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaOMod_NI_ivnMuhg909_B4WONU1bcl1Pi69r8dRCmLOXknCrXNGkCyPfTsQRYeUjEw_GEmqbTXEArbbO0prsSC7bmFVnSmqrfh2cBoTwIZPTorBjXOM1CSigzVylz9Pb80yYtHFfQQVs/s1600/4+way+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaOMod_NI_ivnMuhg909_B4WONU1bcl1Pi69r8dRCmLOXknCrXNGkCyPfTsQRYeUjEw_GEmqbTXEArbbO0prsSC7bmFVnSmqrfh2cBoTwIZPTorBjXOM1CSigzVylz9Pb80yYtHFfQQVs/s320/4+way+stop.jpg" width="320" /></a>I drove from Coeur d’Alene to the Silver Valley in Idaho,
listening to rock music as I always did. I pulled up to a four-way stop sign in
Pinehurst.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I sat there, I suddenly became aware of how good I felt.
I felt absolutely joyful. There was a peace in my heart. I remember feeling
clean. That was the feeling… cleanness. I had not known I wasn’t clean. But
that night I had an immense sense of well-being as I sat at that stop sign.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Realization of how I felt produced in me a thought, <i>“It was a good thing that I’d been with the
people of Jesus.”</i> It was a profound moment. I didn’t over-analyze what it
was or why I felt it. But I have never forgotten that moment either. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t start to attend church right away. I didn’t start
to read the Bible immediately. But that experience impacted me, and I would say
it became one step in a process that took a year and a half before I ultimately
committed my life to the Lordship of Jesus Christ at an American Lutheran
Church.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what happened that night? I believe God allowed me to
feel his presence. I felt what he feels and experienced what he is like. It was
different. It made me happy. It made me want more, even though it would be some
time before I got to that place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Joy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Peace of mind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being clean. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those are some of the reasons why I am still a still a
Christian after 43 years.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-70683058513687760002015-08-06T14:01:00.001-04:002015-08-06T14:10:32.164-04:00Seeing the Invisible God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paul the Apostle, while
preaching in the city of Athens, a city full of idols and images, said, <i>“… he is actually not far from each one of
us …”</i> (Acts 17:27-28) God is <u>actually
not far from each one of us</u>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
God is near to you and I. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If so, why do we not see him? Why do we battle with doubts
about his existence? Why does he seem irrelevant? <u>Is there really someone
living, and near us, that we cannot see?</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><br /></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGZ8vgGB3ceFfhXdIoYOhFg6GlsgaS498qn-sagEqd84YKwR-zYg__O7qq8l9G1GllKumA7LP1jzJWOvfkPwAnlpug2gcb63RbODBNqvyH8ubxCleDYNVXTqAsdTJGRclIh0xKyZrrcOm/s1600/combat_medic_vietnam_service_1970.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGZ8vgGB3ceFfhXdIoYOhFg6GlsgaS498qn-sagEqd84YKwR-zYg__O7qq8l9G1GllKumA7LP1jzJWOvfkPwAnlpug2gcb63RbODBNqvyH8ubxCleDYNVXTqAsdTJGRclIh0xKyZrrcOm/s320/combat_medic_vietnam_service_1970.jpe" width="320" /></a>A friend of mine was serving in the army in Vietnam. He was
not a religious man. One night he stood waiting for a military transport to
take him back to his unit. As he stood there alone in the sweltering Vietnam
night, out of nowhere, a clear, vivid thought was impressed upon his heart. <i>“Get to know me.”</i> It was just that simple.
<i><u>“Get
to know me.”</u></i> He instantly <u>knew</u> it was God. He told me that was
the spark for him to begin to seek God. It wasn’t quick, the effect of that
sentence lasted about five years. He had good times and bad times. He did many
things he knew were wrong. But that one sentence spoken to his heart started it
off. Today, he is involved in proclaiming the Christian message among Native
Americans.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We can’t <u>see</u> God. Yet Paul says “He is actually not
far from each one of us.” How can this be?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a nutshell, it is because God is a spirit. The things of
the spirit are not detectable by our five natural senses. The Bible teaches
there is a God who loves you and is very near you, yet we can be oblivious to Him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For my friend in Vietnam, it was an inner thought. Just a
thought, yet it was so profound he did not forget it. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is there a reasonable argument <i>in favor of </i> invisible
realities?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes. First of all there is Jesus. A real person who really
lived miraculously, died on a cross, rose on the third day, and was seen by
many. God showed himself up close and personal. Jesus said the spiritual realm
is real.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another intriguing thought about the existence of the invisible
was put forth by Joseph Butler, an Anglican clergyman in the 18<sup>th</sup>
century. He used the analogy of dreams. While we sleep, while we are
unconscious of the physical world, and of our five senses, we still experience
something real.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNEkqzM78lnYPrOwJwnGnW3UbtgNHrkj1yB9G38TnBag7jOk5zB6Jmh_I38ixajxGXmMInfnWKESbnKQc2tWr4MH854dTbwYBq-zQex7VSkByL9o3N8dtjK6MzTIlT1Tt4fL4s6cv9gim/s1600/Ray+Gun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNEkqzM78lnYPrOwJwnGnW3UbtgNHrkj1yB9G38TnBag7jOk5zB6Jmh_I38ixajxGXmMInfnWKESbnKQc2tWr4MH854dTbwYBq-zQex7VSkByL9o3N8dtjK6MzTIlT1Tt4fL4s6cv9gim/s320/Ray+Gun.jpg" width="307" /></a>I once had a vivid dream where I was chased and shot in the
arm by an alien weapon. I felt it. I then woke up and found that my arm was
asleep. It was profoundly real. By analogy, Butler argued, that as in the
unconsciousness of sleep, we have awareness, so too in the unconsciousness of
death we will encounter reality.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why does every nation, even remote, primitive societies,
have religion? It is because man senses there is something real, something
beyond us. That is spiritual perception, not physical.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what keeps us from perceiving the spiritual world? Why
are we so locked into the world of the five senses? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Bible answer is that our <u>sin</u> keeps us from
perceiving and knowing God.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
God is holy. We are not. Therefore there is a separation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmRlanZZjeyCP-zP0BJVW2aPtzePaP3rlqncFZ7GuB2D77NKtDqo01YHU8dsqNKjHlEuSsXQW4lB9s0UH10QXXkOaKKizWj115J4OU0Klhn1gahGHVj5j6ms655YME2xUe82nvlqvpSsw/s1600/Cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmRlanZZjeyCP-zP0BJVW2aPtzePaP3rlqncFZ7GuB2D77NKtDqo01YHU8dsqNKjHlEuSsXQW4lB9s0UH10QXXkOaKKizWj115J4OU0Klhn1gahGHVj5j6ms655YME2xUe82nvlqvpSsw/s1600/Cross.jpg" /></a>Christ died though, to satisfy God’s justice and anger about
our sins. If we believe in his atoning death and resurrection and his love for
us, he forgives us. Our sins are removed in God’s eyes. Our "spiritual eyes" are opened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, since <i>“he is
actually not far from each one of us,”</i> will you begin, more than ever
before, to search for him? He is worth it. He is the most wonderful person in
the universe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Take a few minutes now, to talk to the invisible God. He is
not far from you. He loves you. Tell Him what’s on your mind.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-32408250620217585942015-07-08T17:49:00.000-04:002015-07-08T17:49:32.424-04:00Meeting God in a Perkins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcVPBOiD943if_oeBdACzzdcJpkXSJAmTUsGr_AHj05dMwUulFI8T0Ywapa33wrI9L-C1IghHUChGdKZePnL4OPR8JjFb9iDqxKtzIIvXkzXs-Cko150GDQx1pzrUKpBc6i66V_aW0Z22/s1600/perkins+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcVPBOiD943if_oeBdACzzdcJpkXSJAmTUsGr_AHj05dMwUulFI8T0Ywapa33wrI9L-C1IghHUChGdKZePnL4OPR8JjFb9iDqxKtzIIvXkzXs-Cko150GDQx1pzrUKpBc6i66V_aW0Z22/s1600/perkins+sign.jpg" /></a>On July 1, 2015, my wife Lora and I were driving west on
I-94 approaching Bismarck, North Dakota. We decided to stop in Bismarck and
have dinner. We planned to drive further west to Dickinson and spend the night there
afterward.</div>
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As we exited at Bismarck we began to see signs for the
various restaurants that were available at that location. Lora’s eyes
immediately caught sight of a Chinese place that featured a Mongolian barbecue.
We both <i>like</i> Asian food. Lora<i> loves</i> it. She mentioned that option. I
replied, <i>“That sounds great to me.”</i> I
thought it was decided. As we approached the turning lane, Lora then said, <i>“There’s a Perkins. Let’s try that.”</i> I
was mildly surprised, knowing her likes and dislikes. So I took a right in the
parking lot which put us in front of the Perkins entrance. Even as I was
turning I thought this is surprising. I hesitated briefly as I began to turn
in, but she said definitely, <i>“Let’s go to
Perkins.”</i></div>
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We entered the restaurant and were seated at a booth at the
window. The window was blocked by an exterior advertising banner. We sat down
and got our menus. Lora left to the ladies room.</div>
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As she did, I sat facing the corner of the dining room. Two
empty tables away from us, right in the corner, sat a family. It appeared to be
mom, dad, and four kids, starting with a blonde girl aged about 13 on downward. They were in mid-meal. Mom seemed to be talking to them, in
a somewhat serious manner, that made me think she was relating a story to them,
or making a point to the whole family. I liked how she seemed to be relating to
the kids.</div>
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Then I felt a surge of compassion for the family. I had a
strong urge to pray for them right then and there. I silently prayed, still
feeling this intense compassion. I prayed for their marriage, that it would be
strong. Then I prayed for their relationship with the four children, that it
would be blessed. As I finished these two short, sincere prayers, I had an
impression that I was to tell them they were an awesome family. For whatever
reason I did not act on that.</div>
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Lora returned. I didn’t say anything to her about what I’d
felt. We talked about the menu.</div>
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The family was getting up as their meal ended, and mom and
some of the kids left the table. Since I needed the restroom, I got up, and
hoped to speak to the family on the way. I did see the blonde girl near the
cash register. I thought of telling her <i>“you
guys are an awesome family,”</i> but I didn’t. It seemed better to speak to one
of the adults. I returned to our table without seeing either of them.</div>
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We decided we should change tables, as the banner totally
blocked our view. We couldn’t see the waitress. Lora said, <i>“Let’s do it.” </i>She got up and I followed, and she went to the
window table right beside the family. As we sat down, only the dad and an adolescent
boy were still seated. Dinner was over and obviously they were just about to
leave. </div>
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Once we were seated, the dad immediately said to us with a
grin, <i>“Do you want some free coffee?”</i>
He held up his pitcher. We laughed. As he and his son slid out of their booth
and stood to go, he paused and talked about where they were going but included
the phrase <i>“We’re missionaries.”</i> </div>
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I asked, <i>“You are
missionaries?”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“Yes, we serve in
Russia, in the far eastern part of Russia.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Being lifetime missionaries ourselves, I told him, <i>“We are missionaries too. We work with YWAM
(Youth With A Mission) We served in India for many years and now work at one of
our mission’s training centers in the United States.”</i></div>
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Dad (Whose name was Steve) said, <i>“Oh, my wife’s uncle works with YWAM in Mongolia.”</i> As he finished
that sentence, his voice trailed off as if he was trying to remember a name. He
mumbled the word, <i>“Simon.”</i></div>
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Surprised at a familiar name, I said, <i>“Do you mean Bryan and Sandra Simon?” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“We know them. They received
training with us in Pennsylvania before they went to Mongolia. We had hoped to
recruit them to work with us. But of course, we’re thrilled that
they ended up in Mongolia.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“We have been
considering leaving our mission,” </i>Steve said, <i>“we’re looking into YWAM. In fact after we go to Seattle for my dad’s
surgery, we plan to go to Colorado Springs to talk to YWAM about possibilities.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I told Steve about my prayer for him and that feeling of
compassion.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Mu5z8_uej4YfzCVPbHsPsK8BvWNzG1c-FwE5CIRwTh8i1i5L5ZN6gOXJfx2kuzrsCqfg_SXCbUviF0ibypVH7qbmvFfTw17acwRG4oew6hKhbFpCvmIYuhOTk1pMSknZ78i24jzN9hnt/s1600/Compassion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Mu5z8_uej4YfzCVPbHsPsK8BvWNzG1c-FwE5CIRwTh8i1i5L5ZN6gOXJfx2kuzrsCqfg_SXCbUviF0ibypVH7qbmvFfTw17acwRG4oew6hKhbFpCvmIYuhOTk1pMSknZ78i24jzN9hnt/s320/Compassion.jpg" width="320" /></a>After a little more conversation, Steve walked away toward
the exit, and seconds later mom (Amanda) appeared. She said, <i>“So I understand you guys know my Uncle Bryan. They are a big reason why I am in missions. They have inspired me a
lot.”</i></div>
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<i>“They are wonderful,”</i>
Lora said.</div>
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Then I told Amanda about how I’d felt deep emotion and had
prayed for them. I said, <i>“You guys are
truly an awesome family.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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Amanda shyly put her arms around the 13 year old blonde girl’s
neck from behind, embraced her, smiled and said, <i>“This really seems like God is doing something.”</i></div>
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Being in amazement, we both replied, <i>“Oh yes!”</i></div>
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We talked a little more. Then they went out into the parking
lot, and as we watched, began to organize the mini-van and kids to continue
their trip toward Seattle. </div>
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I was very excited. <i>“Think
of all the bits and pieces that had to come together for us to meet them here
today,”</i> I said to Lora.</div>
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They had driven from Minnesota to Bismarck that day. We had
driven from Green Bay to Bismarck with a lot of tourist stops on the way. We
got to the restaurant about the same time. We oddly chose the Perkins. Even
though we were sitting two tables away from them, I had this strong impression
to pray and to speak to them. Lora chose to move to the table beside them.
Steve started a conversation. He mentioned being missionaries. He said the word
<i>“Simon.”</i> We work in the mission they
are considering being a part of.</div>
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I wondered how does God do that?<i> </i>How does he control all these circumstances? He moved two
families, total strangers, together for a meeting and some words of
encouragement. His power was working and guiding, but we only realized it after
the fact.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAO-0r2HtQqiYAJgFw8MKHhjQTq01EH3fLIkw7ON6mTtjpx_YhUbosxoZ3cZW3iKYmd1DV1HKRc-qosRrClvKG64JwH9XT4GVk-Lc-mQ00tKaayaNv8h8xpZmthFKtlKg6dlY-tvBKa0wY/s1600/restaurant-gift-cards-mobile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAO-0r2HtQqiYAJgFw8MKHhjQTq01EH3fLIkw7ON6mTtjpx_YhUbosxoZ3cZW3iKYmd1DV1HKRc-qosRrClvKG64JwH9XT4GVk-Lc-mQ00tKaayaNv8h8xpZmthFKtlKg6dlY-tvBKa0wY/s1600/restaurant-gift-cards-mobile.jpg" /></a>As we ate our meal and watched them prepare to leave from
the parking lot, the young boy ran over to our table and said, <i>“My dad said to give this to you.”</i> It
was a $25 Perkins gift card. Our meal ended up being about $20 and with the
tip, it was covered. As they drove out, Steve leaned forward and waved, and I
returned the wave, feeling a rush of emotion. We were pilgrims on a journey
with God spending some meaningful moments together.</div>
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<i>“Lora,”</i> I said, <i>“This morning, if I had told you someone
would buy our meal tonight at Perkins in Bismarck, North Dakota, what would you
have said?” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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She replied, <i>“No way,
I’d have thought, … impossible!”</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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As we paid, the
cashier said, <i>“How was everything?”</i> Excited,
I wanted to say, <i>“The food was good, BUT
I MET GOD IN YOUR RESTAURANT TONIGHT!” </i>But I didn’t. I knew he had no idea.
That miracle was for us.</div>
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The rest of our two hour drive to Dickinson that evening was spent in talking over the nuances of how God had arranged and orchestrated this remarkable meeting.</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-90668408455089426922015-07-02T05:35:00.000-04:002015-08-26T05:38:40.520-04:00That Little Book<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The man with a cardboard box handed me the small New Testament. It was in front of the University of Idaho library. I didn't know it, but he was with an organization called the Gideon's.</div>
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That little book wound up in a drawer in my apartment.</div>
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Later, on a night when I’d been drinking and was feeling melancholy, I thought about that little book, the New Testament with the Psalms and Proverbs. </div>
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I got it out and laid down on my bed. I remember opening it and noticing a leathery smell. I’d never read it. I thought, <i>“okay, so what are you all about?”</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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I started at the beginning at Matthew, Chapter 1. The <i>"King James"</i> version I read began with a list of archaic names. <i>“What is this?”</i> I thought.</div>
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Somehow I kept going. I read three chapters. Then I went to sleep.</div>
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The next night I read three more chapters.</div>
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And the next.</div>
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What I read about Jesus amazed me. The things he did. Once an angry crowd took him to a cliff to throw him down and <i>“going his way, he walked through the midst of them.”</i> How did he do that?</div>
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I began to experience a phenomenon when I read that little book. As I lay there thinking about the words, I would feel a peace, inside my chest. </div>
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It was curious that reading made me feel that way.</div>
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Over time my life changed and my path was formed through reading that little book. - Mike</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-89309750534600935602015-07-01T05:29:00.000-04:002015-08-26T05:39:03.855-04:00Oh My Gosh, I Could Have Been Killed!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was just a little bit crazy in my teenage years and early twenties. Drugs were a prominent part of my life.</div>
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One day while I was high on drugs I was hitchhiking somewhere that I do not remember. O my gosh, I could have been killed. A man had picked me up and shared Jesus with me although I do not remember a word that he said. He also gave me a copy of “The Living Way Bible.” </div>
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I was drawn to that Bible many times out of curiosity. </div>
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I believe that through this encounter and this man’s prayers, it started a chain of events of different things happening in my life that brought me to the Lord. This included checking into a mental hospital for methadone detox, falling into a nearly fatal coma, the birth of a son and then coming to the end of my rope when he was a few months old, and finally going into a Youth With A Mission ministry called Hope House. </div>
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It was a process.</div>
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What stood out to me about God was His unconditional love, acceptance, and forgiveness for all that I have done, a father’s love that I had never known, and a sense of family from living in the YWAM community. </div>
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– Tamara</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-69959835981514856622015-04-20T05:32:00.000-04:002015-04-20T05:40:56.383-04:00Help the Environment. Turn Off Paper Statements<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mb0t0RV9hA136xbn1sQt_ZEWEjOVpaAyLmOj1I4E378FEDTAsDbbC0cngaUsukcohcghf6GZV5s2G-v3StJh7FylczsGQhsJQ488bNog9yHhQQDT5pxwyEIXwe7yXv06uosTQljqYDdJ/s1600/paper-bill-stock-image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mb0t0RV9hA136xbn1sQt_ZEWEjOVpaAyLmOj1I4E378FEDTAsDbbC0cngaUsukcohcghf6GZV5s2G-v3StJh7FylczsGQhsJQ488bNog9yHhQQDT5pxwyEIXwe7yXv06uosTQljqYDdJ/s1600/paper-bill-stock-image.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>While using online banking recently, I read <i>“Help the Environment. Turn off paper
statements,”</i> Well that’s a no-brainer. Why not!</div>
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Sounds like a large company that is concerned about the
environment. While they probably are, we all suspect that profit-loss is the larger
concern in there altruism.</div>
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If the bank sends a paper statement to their 3.5 million retail
customers it will take roughly 200+ trees to produce that paper. Someone has
calculated there are nearly 247 billion trees of a diameter of more than one
inch in the United States.<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> The
difference on the environment is microscopic.</div>
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The point is, they are saying something that seems valid at
face value. But it’s more complicated than that. It is debatable at the very least,
and may not even be true.</div>
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Another common refrain in the US is the call to buy now and
save! If you don’t buy it now, you won’t save. It’s never about spending, it’s
always about saving. So we spend more than we want to at the moment, because we
<i>know we’re saving</i>.</div>
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On the day of the crucifixion the Roman Governor asked
Jesus, <i>“What is truth?”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftn2" title="">[2]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftn2" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></div>
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<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><br /></span></span></div>
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Someone I know who is facing a legal proceeding was told privately
by his lawyer, <i>“The truth doesn’t matter
in this issue. It’s really not about the truth.” </i></div>
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Really? No law firm would ever advertize that. </div>
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Every culture I’ve been in has blind spots. Things they
believe that are not true.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwLMlduCSME7m_oYQLvFP41HwKKicmgv8R4SJc7clB15-Rqj8PB3A3_z-B8Tl1jG2_ROIwzP4thsZ4xBEuSJ-u7oXITSk_6a5tRz-AnbsmiFJj8BVd2hxaHO_HnZlpdzaIf0th2jIKiRG/s1600/Martian-meteorite-NWA-703-013+carrying+water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwLMlduCSME7m_oYQLvFP41HwKKicmgv8R4SJc7clB15-Rqj8PB3A3_z-B8Tl1jG2_ROIwzP4thsZ4xBEuSJ-u7oXITSk_6a5tRz-AnbsmiFJj8BVd2hxaHO_HnZlpdzaIf0th2jIKiRG/s1600/Martian-meteorite-NWA-703-013+carrying+water.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a>Here in the United States many people more intelligent than
I believe the oceans are here as the result of meteor hits. (Picture)</div>
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We believe that individual rights trump broad society-wide
freedoms.</div>
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We believe we’re smarter than past generations.</div>
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Not everything we believe is true.</div>
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The Roman Governor's question had been triggered by something Jesus said. "<i>… the reason I was
born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the
side of truth listens to me.</i>”<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> <a href="http://www.savatree.com/tree-facts.html">http://www.savatree.com/tree-facts.html</a>,
“interesting Facts About Trees”</div>
</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
John 18:38</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/mike%20evidence/I%20was%20using%20online%20banking%20today.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
John 18:37</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-67680091517243898942015-03-14T13:01:00.001-04:002015-04-20T05:33:15.353-04:00Could We Relate to Jesus?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumzUlsAlD08XMETabGidypiyPBUx_kI1zt9vjJP6m39VfSH5AibtICid9am9p8jq8NRzzj_53bwsT16VvXb6ivc3Uw80OeaBwDGdz4HZWbY3T1uO12f6LcZ7n1sOf3qbsY8Tok506rN_S/s1600/cut+finger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumzUlsAlD08XMETabGidypiyPBUx_kI1zt9vjJP6m39VfSH5AibtICid9am9p8jq8NRzzj_53bwsT16VvXb6ivc3Uw80OeaBwDGdz4HZWbY3T1uO12f6LcZ7n1sOf3qbsY8Tok506rN_S/s1600/cut+finger.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Did Jesus ever cut himself accidently? Did he ever stub his toe? Did he ever get sick? Did he ever give the wrong answer to a math
question or any question?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We know he never sinned. He never acted outside of love. He
obeyed God perfectly, even though he was fully human. That’s remarkable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
John
tells us that Jesus was weary. In other places we’re told he was hungry. He got
angry. Sad. I would suspect that was the case as a boy too. If he never hit his
shin on a piece of furniture in the dark, that would be astounding. All of us
have injured ourselves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If he was always right about everything… 100% on all
questions on all subjects… then his siblings would conceivably have had to deal
with raging jealousy. Inferiority too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did Mary favor him over his siblings? He certainly would
have been unique and one of a kind. If she was partial to “my little Jesus,”
then again, the seeds of family dysfunction could have been deeply imbedded in
Joseph’s clan.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghj3k2wxnVt6V6_NnV9HXfYmt1JA6JBiuOaEZnrK4era3MXXa7imYUW1lX4wJlDeL2kIG0lhu0IE_lmKg9QGLcsHF1BwDLTRU69rHP5pw0tjkhxoqEmPXMnumbugPiEGr0s2D3COsz9UgW/s1600/i-know-everything.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghj3k2wxnVt6V6_NnV9HXfYmt1JA6JBiuOaEZnrK4era3MXXa7imYUW1lX4wJlDeL2kIG0lhu0IE_lmKg9QGLcsHF1BwDLTRU69rHP5pw0tjkhxoqEmPXMnumbugPiEGr0s2D3COsz9UgW/s1600/i-know-everything.jpg.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a>You
see, his mom and supposed father Joseph, and his siblings were human. They were
like us. They would have hurt themselves, gotten sick, and been wrong in
answering some questions. If Jesus was not like that how could they have related
to him? <i>“The whole family are down with
colds, but not Jesus, he never gets sick.”</i> <i>“That really hurt to bump my head on the door post, but Jesus wouldn’t
know, he’s never done that.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
I
like the story of Jesus when he was 12 years old and sitting in the temple area
talking to the learned men. The Bible records that the youth, Jesus, was asking
questions. Asking questions. Learning. It seems he wasn’t a “know it all.”'</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
His
cousin, John the Baptist, didn’t know he was the Chosen One until that day by
the Jordan River. Maybe Jesus had just seemed ordinary before that? Really
nice, but ordinary. A boy who gets hurt,
gets sick, is sometimes wrong in his facts, gets his tongue tangled, etc.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Something
changed about age 30. That day at the Jordan. The power and presence of God’s
Spirit came upon him. And from then on, He was extraordinary, especially in his
knowledge.</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
All
this tells me that he knows and that he cares. Small things matter to Him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
You
matter to him.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-20126636869018773332014-11-14T04:54:00.001-05:002014-11-14T04:54:13.081-05:00Thoughts on Troubles and Timing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="chapter-1" style="background: white; line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span class="chapternum"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">7 </span></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After
these things Jesus</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">was
walking in Galilee, for He was unwilling to walk in Judea because</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the Jews</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">were seeking to kill Him.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26331" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">2 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now the feast of the
Jews,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the Feast of Booths, was
near.</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26332" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">3 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Therefore
His</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">brothers said to Him,
“Leave here and go into Judea, so that Your</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">disciples also may see Your works which You
are doing.</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26333" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">4 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For no
one does anything in secret</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">when he himself seeks to be</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><i style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">known</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">publicly. If You do these things, show
Yourself to the world.”</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26334" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">5 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For not
even His</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">brothers were believing
in Him.</span></span></span><span id="en-NASB-26335" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">6 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So
Jesus said to them,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"></span></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“My time
is not yet here, but your time is always opportune.</span></span></span></span><span id="en-NASB-26336" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">7 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The
world cannot hate you, but it hates Me because I testify of it, that</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">its deeds are evil.</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26337" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">8 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Go up to
the feast yourselves; I do not go up to this feast because</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My time has not yet fully come.”</span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span id="en-NASB-26338" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">9 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Having said these things
to them, He stayed in Galilee.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 18pt; margin: 0in 0in 7.5pt;">
<span id="en-NASB-26339" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">10 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But
when His</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">brothers had gone up to
the feast, then He Himself also went up, not publicly, but as if, in secret.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jesus</b> had become popular. Because of his “signs,” he had
developed a following. This passage talks about an interaction with his flesh
and blood brothers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It tells us <i>“the Jews were seeking to kill Him.”</i> Not
everyone was amazed by the healings he did. He had enemies. Life was not
without it’s concerns. I find the Christian life to be that way. There are
worries. Concerns. Problems. Troubles. I’ve never had a group of people seeking
to kill me. That has to be intense. “What if the Jews send people after me?” we
might think. “How can I ever go back there again?” I have a friend in India who
was beaten by a group of men opposing his Christian faith. It was nasty. Those
men would stand outside near his house in the days following. An intimidation
factor when he walked out the door. How do you remain calm in the face of
people who really do not like you, and want to harm you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If he was really somebody special his brothers wanted him to
go to the Festival and prove it. <i>“Show yourself to the world,”</i> they said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The story goes on that <i>“not even his brothers were believing
in Him.”</i> His own flesh and blood did not believe in him. Due to our own fault
or our families misunderstanding of us, it’s painful to have those close to us
not believe in us. So Jesus life was not a bed of roses.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In verse 6 Jesus says, <i>“My time is not yet here, but your
time is always opportune.”</i> He indicates he will not go up to the festival.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This shows there is such a thing as the timing of God. Can
it be that God has timing in the events and relationships of our life? Jesus
was subject to an internal commitment to God’s timing. As for his unbelieving
brothers, he said “you can do what you want, when you want.” But He chose God’s
timing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnI-lWQqSy02OcHK3yIfUJhcjxNiHUgjYCYEKTClCLcqML7zn3wFBPNkVtTMV9B4iC_oi6NCLJ9ERBt1WRVNOUWLsqtX_vugKz1Bh8pkz320ytsBvcsGhRh4E7aZbDQpMzSredoe659GiV/s1600/bear+and+salmon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnI-lWQqSy02OcHK3yIfUJhcjxNiHUgjYCYEKTClCLcqML7zn3wFBPNkVtTMV9B4iC_oi6NCLJ9ERBt1WRVNOUWLsqtX_vugKz1Bh8pkz320ytsBvcsGhRh4E7aZbDQpMzSredoe659GiV/s1600/bear+and+salmon.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He did go to the festival. When He sensed it was God’s
timing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So two lessons here for us who are Christians. One, things
may not be going well. We may have enemies and doubters. Don’t give up.
Secondly, seek to be aware of God’s timing in matters. Ask Him about it. There
might be a good reason for waiting, - or for doing something urgently.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-52802463279376902552014-06-08T15:41:00.000-04:002014-06-08T15:41:52.979-04:00The Sun is Really Bright Today!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“There was the true light which, coming into the world,
enlightens every man.”</i> John 1:9</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here the Gospel writer John calls Jesus Christ <i>“the true
light.”</i> That would be the real deal. The <i>true
</i>light. The light that makes the other lights seem minor or insignificant. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a sidewalk in Annville, PA recently, I thought the sun is the true light of this
physical world. It is the one light we absolutely could not do without. The
Earth needs to bathe in its light 24/7.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPSKGxQPA2rgR0ayfcQbgsAxDjy6qktcdILBph4G6wj_My1kMCIOKG_kEe5vPAwH4H5dwqgJVHbjOvJkKZjWoxdr5V9qnQRUlTGP3i1xQ81nOAnQKxUkXWwoaC-e3SdDP2LXCVWHSOOJ_/s1600/Freeway+Lights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPSKGxQPA2rgR0ayfcQbgsAxDjy6qktcdILBph4G6wj_My1kMCIOKG_kEe5vPAwH4H5dwqgJVHbjOvJkKZjWoxdr5V9qnQRUlTGP3i1xQ81nOAnQKxUkXWwoaC-e3SdDP2LXCVWHSOOJ_/s1600/Freeway+Lights.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a>Many lights, - tail lights, a flashlight, a neon sign, help
us in various ways. They offer us warnings, convey information, guide us, and
make life convenient. We can and often do live without some of these. They are
relatively minor lights that are made possible by the true light of the sun. It
is <i>the</i> source.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So John calls Jesus <i>“the true light.”</i> The true light came
into the world. The Light of God. The moral light. The example. The pattern. The
true Illuminator.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That light<i> “enlightens
every man.”</i> He makes it possible for us to see. Just as the sun enables vision,
so His inner light enables us to see reality. By it we can discern what is
right. Every man and woman has received this light, to some degree. That’s what
John says.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every culture has some norms of what is acceptable and what
is not. There are some norms of decency acceptable in every nation or tribe.
They don’t all agree, but they do exist. C.S. Lewis wrote, <i>“The moralities
accepted among men may differ, though not, at bottom, so widely as is often
claimed…”</i><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
There is not an inhabited place on earth that does not have some acceptable
standard or some concept of what is good and what is not good. This can be
referred to as moral “light.” This is the light that Jesus, <i>“the true light”</i>
has enlightened us with.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_7y7cRQVaYvSJ9qmyvDotQ3r7IR9OVrLIhZjlT2UqIyN85gDnK4GTDmRbmQ0JEe2fwOOx9wiDlf7pqipVyeITL5jLQili2s7SS0RimTlZpMHlIIZf_Bg451GRo-0OsKGsU5X1Tnp0BYf/s1600/Solar+Power.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3_7y7cRQVaYvSJ9qmyvDotQ3r7IR9OVrLIhZjlT2UqIyN85gDnK4GTDmRbmQ0JEe2fwOOx9wiDlf7pqipVyeITL5jLQili2s7SS0RimTlZpMHlIIZf_Bg451GRo-0OsKGsU5X1Tnp0BYf/s1600/Solar+Power.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Just as the sun has enlightened all of us, so the true
light, Jesus, has shined in our hearts and we have some vision. He is the one
moral light we cannot do without.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John goes on to say,<i> “But as many as received Him, to them
He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who
believe in His name…”</i> (John 1:12) Receive the full light of Jesus today.
Believe in Him! The Sun is really bright today!</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
<!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<!--[endif]-->
<br />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> C.S.
Lewis, <i>The Problem of Pain</i>,(New York: MacMillan Publishing Co,
1962) 21-22</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-89897284726981363352014-03-16T21:37:00.000-04:002014-03-17T07:10:45.409-04:00A Meeting of the Minds?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last Saturday I was helping to teach an English class along
with a friend of mine. Although there are 40 or 50 students divided into four
classes, our class had only two women in it. They were both Hindus from Nepal.
One married and one single. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We were two Christian men from the United States,
one single and the other married.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIUXmbMFKsKje9lyBxNyILvePnz-JB0F4NLNYGAANZJaDlhPWJPIYlWxgktaelefkW1-FaIl6H0IQumT_ymGV0KmdqvTkx_rDN8o7A0V2Dy88IJOrMJ5hh_-gsX5G8Q8QWiURmOy368lR/s1600/DECISIONAHEAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIUXmbMFKsKje9lyBxNyILvePnz-JB0F4NLNYGAANZJaDlhPWJPIYlWxgktaelefkW1-FaIl6H0IQumT_ymGV0KmdqvTkx_rDN8o7A0V2Dy88IJOrMJ5hh_-gsX5G8Q8QWiURmOy368lR/s1600/DECISIONAHEAD.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>One of the exercises to stretch them in their English
ability was to answer the following question. “What are five of the most
important decisions you will make in your life?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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We began by throwing out ideas and making one master list of
the responses.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The married lady chimed in the first response, “Tell the
truth.” This was followed quickly by, “Be peaceful.” The younger single girl
who is interested in citizenship in the United States then said, “Be loyal to
your new country” and “Be disciplined.” This was good stuff. But I must say, it wasn’t
what I expected. They were talking about values and morals. I counted those as
things foundational to making the bigger decisions. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The single guy and I began to make our suggestions. “What
career you will choose.” </div>
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<br /></div>
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“Who you will marry.” <br />
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5-IfUy_RwnqJUB1ZZEUhhIUwiVvgoQoJq6lLC8oE-OeUl4EQvMnqK6Y-xikvvTZgvvhG7ePlVD0o8nOeT14mhDMD0Y7egDS9DY5pz6VXjMoqs4XFZ68TXC-FlgXz21bomZ_qiwAtKSJr/s1600/Nepali+Woman+drawing.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5-IfUy_RwnqJUB1ZZEUhhIUwiVvgoQoJq6lLC8oE-OeUl4EQvMnqK6Y-xikvvTZgvvhG7ePlVD0o8nOeT14mhDMD0Y7egDS9DY5pz6VXjMoqs4XFZ68TXC-FlgXz21bomZ_qiwAtKSJr/s1600/Nepali+Woman+drawing.png" height="320" width="264" /></a></div>
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To this the married Nepali lady said, “That only applies to
you, I am already married,” as if outside of her experience the question didn’t
really matter.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“If you <i>should</i> get
married,” the single American man chimed in.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“How many children you should have,” I said to blank stares.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We two American Christians were talking about major events, -
not values. I started to see how different our two sets of worldviews were.
What I counted as important wasn’t necessarily to them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The topic turned to religion.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Do not believe in superstition, that the old people are
believing,” said the single girl. She used the illustration of a black cat
crossing your path. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The married lady said, “Pray to God. All gods are the same,
names different but one god.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Feeling the need to speak up for my faith, I said, “For me
as a Christian, having a relationship with Jesus Christ is the most important
decision I can make in my life.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Both the ladies smiled and said, “Yes, you’re a Christian.” They
laughed as if to say, “We knew that was coming.” The married one repeated,
“Many names but the same God.” The single man tried to explain that there is
only one God and He is Jesus, but somehow that got waylaid and didn’t go
anywhere.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsqFUEsxPaReDZBi_KdseC79CtvDvIxEwcd5BGAZixYX_zXitPA-ASs9sW9k3O-_BZvcRsUZ9S55cxYqC3F5NsaAj2Imwfuh_BIP5Np5fdVdc-eo5t4qz2Et21SOdMoCD8861lhZPXg6Kl/s1600/Believe+in.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>After making a list of 17 items, we decided to vote. Each
one of us voted for five. Then we listed the five with the most votes. This is
our list. (Not listed in order of importance, just the highest vote getters.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS9ZG_8ictdz0dxn3MIfIw6XRS_AP9NHS06OP7KzYcPe4DYvR8V_xOId2ojgv80HOq0trjuE4GdG9fezFRi52YWQpe9D8QGr0c7SfblTn2lLbbwcI1iDT-hWdcc2pHE_VVOgnVxyFvAlU/s1600/Believe+in.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS9ZG_8ictdz0dxn3MIfIw6XRS_AP9NHS06OP7KzYcPe4DYvR8V_xOId2ojgv80HOq0trjuE4GdG9fezFRi52YWQpe9D8QGr0c7SfblTn2lLbbwcI1iDT-hWdcc2pHE_VVOgnVxyFvAlU/s1600/Believe+in.jpg" height="295" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The five
most important decisions a person can make in their lifetime:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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- Tell the truth (3 votes)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Respect everyone (3 votes) </div>
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- Who you will marry (3 votes)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- What you believe. Your worldview. (3 votes)</div>
<br />
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- To follow Jesus Christ. (2 votes <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>)</div>
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<br /></div>
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I think the young single girl who was dead set against superstition ended up agreeing that what we believe is an important decision.</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-27464426359907324232014-02-21T00:04:00.000-05:002014-02-21T00:04:02.818-05:00Making Something Original<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I recently
noticed a Bible verse that is momentous and yet so simply put.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="text"><i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“The
sea is his, for he made it; for his hands formed the dry land.”</span></i></span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title="">[1]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></span><span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God made the sea. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s that simple. No drum roll, no Bruno Mars
halftime show.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLIHaxH1MhIa9SgjDPzVlWelqmotPIXCZMP_h4QHL9EkkWSPXliQ4H8lpC13jA2XKOMDbrfpN2zq95ey2dX3qI4DOLToyFRxxGi514SQhQ_UJzeDGcQWt0n1WUQ8zBBxQvPPGWjzkyPC_/s1600/Deep-blue-ocean1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLIHaxH1MhIa9SgjDPzVlWelqmotPIXCZMP_h4QHL9EkkWSPXliQ4H8lpC13jA2XKOMDbrfpN2zq95ey2dX3qI4DOLToyFRxxGi514SQhQ_UJzeDGcQWt0n1WUQ8zBBxQvPPGWjzkyPC_/s1600/Deep-blue-ocean1.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a><span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How do you or I make something that has never been?
We get the raw materials, like a pencil and paper, and we begin to “make” a
picture. What we draw, even if it’s just a scribble, has been done before. It
will be based on what already exists. When God made the sea, it was something
that didn’t exist previously. There was no picture or blueprint.</span></span></div>
<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sea was an original. God conceived it in His
mind and made it. He saw it, thought it, or whatever, but the sea in all its
massive systems, complex chemical makeup, and enormous volume, he made.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Bible records, “</span></span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And God
said, <i>“Let the waters under the heavens
be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.” And it was
so.”</i><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> What was
water? What was dry land? There had never been such a thing. God invented
something original. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Try to picture a new color. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you have that in your mind?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We can’t! There is a fixed range and we cannot conceive of
anything not on the spectrum. I cannot draw something that has never been known
by man. Everything I came up with would be based on something already made. We
live in that reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsvKEWeNDXvuaV_vI-V9t8P0_l-hBGcQJwChhcYNnv2i2FazIt_qxl9jnTPnLn1kc0kxB-HmqmMa-Lf7mvPKzNY3uakDQn7N2XziQKty7qOv5NaRnpa2VN7C7gOkq2XWm1onNbStuFhkq/s1600/IMG_1195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsvKEWeNDXvuaV_vI-V9t8P0_l-hBGcQJwChhcYNnv2i2FazIt_qxl9jnTPnLn1kc0kxB-HmqmMa-Lf7mvPKzNY3uakDQn7N2XziQKty7qOv5NaRnpa2VN7C7gOkq2XWm1onNbStuFhkq/s1600/IMG_1195.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But in the beginning, God made stuff that was original and
had no precedent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“His
hands formed the dry land.”</span></i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I can see his hands scooping out the sea beds
and pulling the earth into piles that became continents. I can see him pulling
up the Andes and the Himalayas with his fingers, and pressing a thumb to make
the Great Lakes. It’s almost as if he had fun with it? Imagine that, God having
fun? God smiling. God being nice. Hmmm, there’s a thought for you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He first made the stuff, then he formed it. Most of the earth
is ocean. That was okay with God. Even the land he made is not all habitable.
Why are there desolate, uninhabitable stretches? Because that’s what his mind
conceived. That is what He did. <i>“And God
saw that it was good.”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title="">[3]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><br /></b></span></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Dror_l-FAD1gev1xFJjCX07TYEwktotRCKauvDBN-NQv1TpfjpbnMszrJAlNHEsaPvKkZhBck8W7oRwGISvrzsRZnJU_wGUJ_jauTbI7SUkBjC0rypRGjHOMV78kWuA__saQ0K2tqyTG/s1600/Gene+Cernan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Dror_l-FAD1gev1xFJjCX07TYEwktotRCKauvDBN-NQv1TpfjpbnMszrJAlNHEsaPvKkZhBck8W7oRwGISvrzsRZnJU_wGUJ_jauTbI7SUkBjC0rypRGjHOMV78kWuA__saQ0K2tqyTG/s1600/Gene+Cernan.jpg" height="271" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Apollo Astronaut Eugene Cernan, viewing the Earth from space,
said, “… </span><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">there you are, the earth, dynamic, overwhelming, and I
felt that there was just too much purpose, too much logic, it was just too
beautiful to have happened by accident. There has to be someone bigger than you
and bigger than me, and I mean this in a spiritual sense, I’m not religious,
but there has to be a Creator of the universe…”</span> <span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title="">[4]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A God that
can create like that, - wow!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"> I think He can envision and create a positive
path for your life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Look to the
Son!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Psalm 95:5 Revised Standard Bible</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Genesis 1:9 Revised Standard Bible</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Genesis 1:10 (RSV)</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/Whats%20a%20Sea.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> “In
the Shadow of the Moon,” 2007, a film by Ron Howard</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-87380268622778581852014-01-19T18:09:00.001-05:002014-01-19T18:09:55.928-05:00A Lesson About Money<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>“And he called the
twelve together ... and sent them out to preach the kingdom of God
and to heal. And he said to them, “Take nothing for your
journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics.” </i>Luke
9:1-3 </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji794CiJUJVNxOqgsyMRzwVVw9FKLpCss7hYkszqK1F8KLYim1yWqsEnH1BNxm5eBpMunqlhPcQBtVYwyjxpto2QJNvLlM3QJ82UkwvxX63dkBaClX0-uAem4p0XzzEcktZAe10zjkmQ0F/s1600/13656244-four-hundred-dollar-bills-in-an-envelope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji794CiJUJVNxOqgsyMRzwVVw9FKLpCss7hYkszqK1F8KLYim1yWqsEnH1BNxm5eBpMunqlhPcQBtVYwyjxpto2QJNvLlM3QJ82UkwvxX63dkBaClX0-uAem4p0XzzEcktZAe10zjkmQ0F/s1600/13656244-four-hundred-dollar-bills-in-an-envelope.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a><i>“Please stand up if
you want to relinquish your rights to reputation, your own plans, your
finances, or anything else for the sake of serving Christ.”</i> I felt an inner
longing to literally give up my right to <i>“my”</i>
money. If I was without money, could Christ meet my needs? Where I was at
spiritually that evening in 1975 in Kona, Hawaii, the answer was a burning <i>“yes!”</i> I stood to my feet as Loren
Cunningham, the founder of Youth With A Mission (or YWAM), prayed for all of
us.</div>
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I’d moved to Hawaii a few weeks earlier. Looking for a job,
and a church in which to practice my new found faith, I had met people from
YWAM, and was in their School of Evangelism now, along with about 80 others. I
had paid for my expenses at YWAM and had some money in the bank that I’d saved.</div>
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I had never been without money. My family was not rich, we
were blue collar folks from a small town in Idaho. But I always had some money.
Now, I was burning with excitement to trust God even if I had no money.</div>
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When Loren asked who still owed money for the school, hands
shot up. One guy named Mike said, <i>“I still
owe $800.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqPjhcp-sjpg-WKpysdzOOKEtMsVJ2ph-01X3dfChapE45LcYx_GzzEVkh4S-GsApelLPUdyvr4CDcGtdPeHZGqBs1SF9HdLkz9aH_PibA1tSl5tv43NChyphenhyphenGOBDh3hEwyvBFo9P3bTFvX/s1600/One+empty+bus+seat.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqPjhcp-sjpg-WKpysdzOOKEtMsVJ2ph-01X3dfChapE45LcYx_GzzEVkh4S-GsApelLPUdyvr4CDcGtdPeHZGqBs1SF9HdLkz9aH_PibA1tSl5tv43NChyphenhyphenGOBDh3hEwyvBFo9P3bTFvX/s1600/One+empty+bus+seat.png" height="187" width="320" /></a>My heart leapt. I felt an impression to meet that need. If I
gave Mike $800, I’d be down to zero, and I’d see if Jesus really could do what he’d
said. But $800 was an unheard of amount for me to give! More so in 1975 when a
gallon of gas cost about $.53<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/A%20lesson%20in%20Trust.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>.
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Wanting to be cautious, I prayed, <i>“Lord, if you want me to give $800 to Mike, when we get on the bus to
leave tonight keep one seat next to Mike vacant.”</i> I waited by the bus until
everyone had gotten on. Then I boarded, and there was only one seat, and it was
beside Mike!</div>
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The next day I withdrew eight one-hundred dollar bills and
put them in an envelope. On the way to Mike’s apartment, I prayed, <i>“Lord, let there be no one at the apartment.”</i>
When I arrived, none of the 5 or 6 roommates were there. I went in, slipped the
unmarked envelope under Mike’s pillow, and left.</div>
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A couple days later, the students were given a chance to
share what was happening. I sat excitedly waiting for Mike to speak.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaB6Z3zHl27-BNov-6Km1ArFdFQ_FpcPr5sVsncWd17IFpeiY12UiI5ALF9OtmglZsYvMjUSAdXjZiZ73dxteCT8evOi6_BLRGjmxgkkXRpWfs1dBgEu_iPpUA5AUynzSqkQNr50XhEBAh/s1600/2-Dollars.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaB6Z3zHl27-BNov-6Km1ArFdFQ_FpcPr5sVsncWd17IFpeiY12UiI5ALF9OtmglZsYvMjUSAdXjZiZ73dxteCT8evOi6_BLRGjmxgkkXRpWfs1dBgEu_iPpUA5AUynzSqkQNr50XhEBAh/s1600/2-Dollars.png" height="212" width="320" /></a>He stood up and said, <i>“I
owed $802 on my school bill. A couple of days ago I found an envelope from
someone under my pillow. It had $800 in it. That’s great, but that’s not what
excited me. Last night two of us were in downtown Kailua-Kona talking to people
about Jesus. As I spoke to one man, he insisted on pushing something into my
hand. I told him, “We don’t want money,” but the man insisted. Later when I looked I saw it was $2. I needed
exactly $802, and the Lord gave me that precise amount.”</i></div>
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I remember the hair on the back of my neck standing up and
getting goose bumps. God taught me a lesson about His ability to provide.</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Desktop/A%20lesson%20in%20Trust.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> <a href="http://www1.eere.energy.gov/vehiclesandfuels/facts/m/2012_fotw741.html">http://www1.eere.energy.gov/vehiclesandfuels/facts/m/2012_fotw741.html</a></div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-72761437686904002592013-12-31T12:27:00.000-05:002013-12-31T12:27:41.396-05:00A Day I Will Never Forget<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><i><sup><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“</span></sup></i></b><i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”</span></i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span>– Romans 10:13</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1778TwCPowC0E4CV6RDfIZaegIV9vGd-wsg9XZ_6tztcxd-V8AACOJJsm15Dw9NgldiHZLWYR1I_F35N9WxBRAhb9IgVtkCQz5b2pP06czwX7bnqRIUvqPjYSl4Et2s9jbXIPMvMi2U6/s1600/Faleasao.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1778TwCPowC0E4CV6RDfIZaegIV9vGd-wsg9XZ_6tztcxd-V8AACOJJsm15Dw9NgldiHZLWYR1I_F35N9WxBRAhb9IgVtkCQz5b2pP06czwX7bnqRIUvqPjYSl4Et2s9jbXIPMvMi2U6/s320/Faleasao.jpg" width="320" /></a>Over the course of my life there have been some special days
where the presence of God was made real to me in a very dramatic way. I want to
share one of those.</div>
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Back in 1976-77 I was working with Youth With A Mission in
American Samoa. During my first year there, an opportunity arose for me to
visit one of the outlying islands of the Samoa chain. This island was in the
Manu’a group, and I believe it was the island of Ta’u. My purpose for going was
to show a film about the life of Jesus.</div>
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I left Pago Pago harbor on a small inter-island passenger
boat and traveled overnight to Ta’u. Upon arrival, a group of about 10 burly
Samoans rowed through the surf to meet our ship in a large wooden lifeboat. To
get into the lifeboat I had to wait for the right moment. When a swell came
through, the smaller boat rose up about even with the deck of the passenger
ship and I stepped across into the lifeboat. The swell passed and we sank 15
feet below the deck. The Samoan crew skillfully navigated us through an “ava,” (cut
in the reef), and we rode the surf right into the shore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja18uqh0OkXdSz1IjPUzloDesTvgLRRoQOizxseY3b17Sxy7IDEX4R1_F7-QLditEYaW7XpbMi2haISwC4sNMM6hyphenhyphenQBx7hk6cUdGgS8cJ5zP-FvFkr9LTkXxyb0IUyX6X0tA7o-WINbsGt/s1600/Cane+spider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja18uqh0OkXdSz1IjPUzloDesTvgLRRoQOizxseY3b17Sxy7IDEX4R1_F7-QLditEYaW7XpbMi2haISwC4sNMM6hyphenhyphenQBx7hk6cUdGgS8cJ5zP-FvFkr9LTkXxyb0IUyX6X0tA7o-WINbsGt/s320/Cane+spider.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My hosts showed me to my room, a nice little house right
near the beach. The only other memory I have of the house was that I was
greeted in the bathroom sink by a large cane spider. Arrrggghhhhh!</div>
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That afternoon I walked down to the empty, pristine white
beach. Leaving my colorful lavalava and rubber flip flops in the sand, I waded
into the warm Pacific waters. </div>
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I am an Idaho boy. I didn’t grow up near the ocean. At the
time I knew little about the sea or the ways of it. I was unaware of the rip
tide at the beach on Ta’u. </div>
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After swimming out about 30 yards, I treaded water for a few
minutes, enjoying the beauty of the island, the beach, and the sea. </div>
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Deciding to return, I did a few strokes and then looked at
the beach to gauge my progress. It was not closer. I tried again. Still no
progress. Then I began to swim with all my might. A minute later, I checked and
realized, I could not get back in!</div>
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At that point, an inner voice said, <i>“Don’t panic.” </i>I remember rolling onto my back, just floating and
thinking. What should I do? A minute later I decided to roll over again and swim
once more.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXmxYE92IQHGllFmmQF7MoaGxJ_feN4NpfjOTgZyJF742a9phBmC5izCAll2EG_oEg1t_Ha2tUxFcaBaFcoKGhiw6MtcSTGBq3b5i1XBWIPjbUfLgyeBpnhFCnFBItTsVYMZqrrsgJ20M/s1600/standing+on+a+reef.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXmxYE92IQHGllFmmQF7MoaGxJ_feN4NpfjOTgZyJF742a9phBmC5izCAll2EG_oEg1t_Ha2tUxFcaBaFcoKGhiw6MtcSTGBq3b5i1XBWIPjbUfLgyeBpnhFCnFBItTsVYMZqrrsgJ20M/s320/standing+on+a+reef.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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As I rolled over I had a clear inner impression. <i>“Whosoever shall call upon the name of the
Lord shall be saved.”</i> In the midst of rolling over to swim, I said out
loud, <i>“Jesus!”</i> I then swam 4 or 5
strokes. I opened my eyes under the 20 foot deep water. I saw a coral head
coming up from the bottom to a much more shallow depth. With very little effort
I put my feet down on it. Far from the beach, I was standing on a coral head in
20 feet of water! It was neck deep but I was standing. I looked into the water
again and saw another coral head a few feet toward the beach. I leaped/floated/swam
toward it, and put my feet down on it. </div>
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In that way I basically walked into the shore. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEXpPsXd83_tZhp60yKWHRAoCWQklK6THcY5OKVUt_uK32NyYcSeS8BXVWyEuQi1dp0Eoab7aaEzD1rBTyvZEmOBBXaDj_i-_sYmDKzIi_kIne2Qi-GEMrXxY6GNYKDxnXaUm-ogG6MF6/s1600/standing+in+ocean+after+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEXpPsXd83_tZhp60yKWHRAoCWQklK6THcY5OKVUt_uK32NyYcSeS8BXVWyEuQi1dp0Eoab7aaEzD1rBTyvZEmOBBXaDj_i-_sYmDKzIi_kIne2Qi-GEMrXxY6GNYKDxnXaUm-ogG6MF6/s320/standing+in+ocean+after+run.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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When I got there, no one was around. I wrapped on my lavalava
and put on my flip flops. No one knew what happened. But I did. God saved me
that day. I will never forget it.</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-59753860256073124942013-11-26T11:58:00.003-05:002013-11-26T11:58:51.331-05:00Faith On a Street Corner<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've been having trouble the past few weeks coming up with
inspiration for this blog. What clever topic can I present that will prove to
people that Jesus is God and that the Bible is true. I’ve got to be honest, I
don’t have anything clever to write.</div>
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Part of the problem is that I cannot prove to you that Jesus
is God or that the Bible is true. If I convince you of that by proofs, then you
would not need to believe. You have proof, - facts, so no faith is required. I
cannot prove God or His Word to you in that way. He won’t allow it, and I don’t
think it’s possible. If it was possible, then there would be no need for faith.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKT9wVZTUsLlDkqXD9AZXXuF98CCdGdxhwwM3obJKczGB8Vtf-UpvTxjioAisfoUoVZdtI1hy4cLWpyAkLmpf8kbDP5SpuzpCEfWzE2BSuI4eQPCSw0UpIOZeanARkkEHe14FlErT1D_L/s1600/hot+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKT9wVZTUsLlDkqXD9AZXXuF98CCdGdxhwwM3obJKczGB8Vtf-UpvTxjioAisfoUoVZdtI1hy4cLWpyAkLmpf8kbDP5SpuzpCEfWzE2BSuI4eQPCSw0UpIOZeanARkkEHe14FlErT1D_L/s1600/hot+dog.jpg" /></a>Last night several of us gathered on a cold Pennsylvania
street corner to give out hot dogs and drinks to people. A crowd of maybe 20
people gathered and we cooked and gave out many hot dogs and drinks. In the
midst of it, I said, <i>“Does anyone want
prayer? We’re here for that reason, can I pray for anyone?”</i> </div>
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Silence.</div>
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Later, another one of our “hotdog team” said to a man, <i>“How about that hit and run case you told me
about? Can I pray for you for that?”</i> The man refused prayer. I have to
admit, I chuckled at that. A hit and run case?!? And he DOESN’T need prayer for
that? If you’re not praying for that,
then forget about the minor things of life.</div>
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Then it struck me. There is no faith here. People simply don’t
believe that prayer works. They don’t believe it has any value.</div>
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They wanted the hotdogs but not the prayer.</div>
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Jesus said, <i>“when the Son of man comes, will he
find faith on earth?”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Faith%20on%20a%20Street%20Corner.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title="">[1]</a></span></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Faith%20on%20a%20Street%20Corner.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Finally one man came forward, holding his bundled up little
6 pound newborn son, Jonathan. <i>“I need prayer,”</i>
he said. I prayed for him, his wife, and his son. I prayed for his son’s future. I prayed for the
man’s father, who I also knew. I asked God to bless their lives. The very thing
God wants to do. There was a little spark of faith on that street corner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ds0sRN0MiLdPm1ofS9OsvxQ-wESCh4AWXr_PFl-UI-90514ha410joR6A-ph3jcPw8jqy191CClWR479NB0yDDuRpkMTa0j9PDnyEwprE765kpaZ3QZYlJuutpONwfdUXm88k9TTpAsV/s1600/praying+hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ds0sRN0MiLdPm1ofS9OsvxQ-wESCh4AWXr_PFl-UI-90514ha410joR6A-ph3jcPw8jqy191CClWR479NB0yDDuRpkMTa0j9PDnyEwprE765kpaZ3QZYlJuutpONwfdUXm88k9TTpAsV/s1600/praying+hands.jpg" /></a>Early in the 20<sup>th</sup> Century, missionary James Frazer
wrote to the church in England from his missionary post in China: <i>“What I covet more than anything else is
earnest believing prayer, and I write to ask you to continue in prayer for me
and the work here.”</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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To believe that Jesus is God and that the Bible is true,
takes faith. To pray to God takes faith. May you exercise that faith in this
coming week. You won’t be disappointed.</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/e6400/Documents/Mikes%20Documents/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Faith%20on%20a%20Street%20Corner.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Luke 18:8 (Revised Standard Bible)</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-29229058963268662182013-10-10T22:13:00.001-04:002013-10-15T06:42:37.012-04:00God Bless the Whole World, No Exceptions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Consider the bumper sticker, <i>“God bless the whole world;
No Exceptions”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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This slogan has been the subject of many blogs and Christian
sermons. I'm not the first by any means. One blogger points out that the
thought of God blessing everyone is probably not a biblical notion.<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
I have to agree.<o:p></o:p></div>
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God does bless everyone, in a general way. <i>“... for he
makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and
on the unjust.”</i><a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
But notice there are categories of people in that verse: the evil and the good,
the just and the unjust.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-R0F8pydIHoeOHSV53a8oDWJZadvhZai7hA-EREeDqS__GGA32jyCdVcXG5nr0QddqNkoWXJthPhCCsyjuv4xsBez-0tT4ovrEh0_Jxf8rdz5wfVSF0Eq7Sm_Ty5n8WPk74rmx2PGWVV/s1600/God-bless-the-world-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-R0F8pydIHoeOHSV53a8oDWJZadvhZai7hA-EREeDqS__GGA32jyCdVcXG5nr0QddqNkoWXJthPhCCsyjuv4xsBez-0tT4ovrEh0_Jxf8rdz5wfVSF0Eq7Sm_Ty5n8WPk74rmx2PGWVV/s320/God-bless-the-world-sm.jpg" width="320" /></a>These are categories that are established and decided upon
by God. Christians err when we take the role of the judge. It is not ours. But
because God will never bless evil, He will not <i>“bless everyone, no
exceptions.”</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
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Would you want God to bless the guy who had imprisoned and
abused the girls for years in a cellar in Cleveland? What about the Boston
Marathon bomber? A person whose error proves fatal to another? Would a rejected
wife, whose husband is leaving her for another woman want to bless him?<o:p></o:p></div>
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You see,<i>“No Exceptions”</i> is not a philosophically
consistent position. There seems to be a barb. Is it directed at people whose
worldview recognizes exceptions? I mean people who view categories like evil
and good, just and unjust. <i>“No Exceptions”</i> seems to be saying <i>''You're
wrong. Live and let live. Don't judge.'</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But there are clearly times and reasons for God or us to
withhold blessing from someone. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In the Bible, we find a man named Achan. He disobeyed God
and lied about it. He later confessed his wrong under duress, but he was
clearly not blessed.<i> “And all the Israelites stoned Achan and his family and
burned their bodies.”</i><a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
They were an exception.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS6bl1hEfYSazlwVDClc18L6oFF9IE3wCYHJq8vtHacs_gC8UV9e36GeVaioshWTNf6yiyqJYP0rZ18Cw_xlsIA8CZNf62yIzs0Z48TIdYaf4Od6nm1zs4iw5Y5RjCjHgFNgoB8Xkp-Jb/s1600/klan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS6bl1hEfYSazlwVDClc18L6oFF9IE3wCYHJq8vtHacs_gC8UV9e36GeVaioshWTNf6yiyqJYP0rZ18Cw_xlsIA8CZNf62yIzs0Z48TIdYaf4Od6nm1zs4iw5Y5RjCjHgFNgoB8Xkp-Jb/s320/klan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A marketing company, Northern Sun, who claim a copyright on
the bumper sticker, have added a further
explanatory statement on their <i>“No Exceptions”</i>order page: <i>“Through
unity and tolerance, religions can coexist.”<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[4]</span></b></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
</i>That's an idealistic slogan but it does not live where the rubber meets the
road. Just ask someone who has suffered in the Muslim-Hindu communal riots of
India, has been victim of the “Christian” Ku Klux Klan, or who has been
imprisoned for following Jesus in China.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To be sure, religions <i>must </i>coexist and <i>must</i> be
tolerant and respectful, or we descend into darkness. But we must not slide
into a cookie-cutter <i>'unity'</i> based on conformity or compromise. All
religions are not the same. We must agree to disagree. <o:p></o:p></div>
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A God who blesses the whole world, no exceptions, is a God
without any discernment. He has no standards. He would be as C.S. Lewis wrote, <i>“a
grandfather in heaven – a senile benevolence who, as they say, ‘liked to see
young people enjoying themselves,’ and whose plan for the universe was simply
that it might be truly said at the end of each day, ‘a good time was had by
all.’</i><a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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God bless the whole world, and lead us into Your truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div>
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<!--[endif]-->
<div id="ftn1">
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> A. L. Blair, <i>God Bless the Whole World.
No Exceptions, </i>January 14, 2006 <a href="http://abelardsghost.blogspot.com/2006/01/god-bless-whole-world-no-exceptions.html">http://abelardsghost.blogspot.com/2006/01/god-bless-whole-world-no-exceptions.html</a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> Matthew 5:45 (RSV)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> Joshua 7:25 (New Living Translation)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><a href="http://www.northernsun.com/5643.html"> http://www.northernsun.com/5643.html</a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Bordon/Desktop/Bumper%20Sticker.doc#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" title=""><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="FootnoteCharacters"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Mangal; mso-bidi-language: HI; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: HI; mso-font-kerning: .5pt;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> C.S.
Lewis, <i>The Problem of Pain</i>,(New York:
MacMillan Publishing Co, 1962) 40</span></div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-44895383237235684572013-09-26T07:39:00.002-04:002013-09-26T12:05:54.469-04:00Heads or Tails?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uN2he_4nXWN4ci0Bibm0h8DrjmLppWHaJNxYRcKkJgiQ2ZG7a6iyzKS5PbMU3eAOhi7WEe4cJLNxGdvphO3cL3In2DUld0D5mNqJ3T5DmkL6usEv-vLnWzrSf3IKFdpgt02oCR-04fk-/s1600/win+lottery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uN2he_4nXWN4ci0Bibm0h8DrjmLppWHaJNxYRcKkJgiQ2ZG7a6iyzKS5PbMU3eAOhi7WEe4cJLNxGdvphO3cL3In2DUld0D5mNqJ3T5DmkL6usEv-vLnWzrSf3IKFdpgt02oCR-04fk-/s320/win+lottery.jpg" width="320" /></a><b>T</b>he lottery. It’s a mania in this
nation. CNN reports, <i>“More than half of us have played the
lottery in the last year…”</i><sup><a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote1sym" name="sdfootnote1anc">1</a></sup></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don’t play the lottery. But if I'm
honest, I have to say I've fantasized about what I would do if I won
it. I'd get a Harley-Davidson, that's for sure. But because I never
play, I will never win the lottery.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know of a native American girl who
won … twice. Once for a six figure payoff, and once for five
figures. What are the odds?
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People play the lottery because of the
possibility of hitting it really big. The odds are mightily stacked
against them, but it’s that hope of something wonderful and
life-altering that keeps them playing. Human behavior expert, Dr.
Wendy Walsh says, <i>"We have the Cinderella complex -- there's a fairy godmother who's going to come in and save us."</i><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><sup><a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote2sym" name="sdfootnote2anc">2</a></sup></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">
</span></span>
</div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRICiA86RQyhj9AowZSdsYjkTeLS8ecbKhCvDUpqVPQUQTTZ6Y5-osZsMXKfcbD7ju4hpRIX6Rk420LxZXnhuu59x98ONCHUqu7o_JShKTrBccGHFYZC7HbHXcsmqthSMX9CXFzPPjcPLK/s1600/Pascal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRICiA86RQyhj9AowZSdsYjkTeLS8ecbKhCvDUpqVPQUQTTZ6Y5-osZsMXKfcbD7ju4hpRIX6Rk420LxZXnhuu59x98ONCHUqu7o_JShKTrBccGHFYZC7HbHXcsmqthSMX9CXFzPPjcPLK/s1600/Pascal.jpg" /></a>What if winning the lottery was decided
by a flip of a coin? Seventeenth Century French Philosopher and
Mathematician Blaise Pascal wrote about something just as dramatic.
It is called <i>Pascal’s Wager</i>.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pascal posited that all of us are
facing a flip of the coin. We wager our life on the fact that either
God is or He is not. We can't avoid playing. By means of reason alone
we cannot be sure if there is a God or not. Pascal writes, <i>“Let
us weigh up the gain and the loss involved in calling heads that God
exists… if you win you win everything, if you lose you lose
nothing.”</i><a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote3sym" name="sdfootnote3anc"><sup>3</sup></a>
It's sort of like hitting the lottery. Win and I'm cruising on a
Harley. Lose and I'm out five bucks. Much to gain, not much to lose.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Why don't we do that in religious
matters?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Hindu religion says that all ways--
Buddha, Muhammad, Jesus Christ, Krishna, trying to be a nice person,
- all lead to God. (Although, Hindus don’t really believe that.
Just ask one to allow his daughter to marry a Muslim or a Christian,
if you don't believe me.) Contrary to Hinduism, Christians believe in
the exclusiveness of Christ based on his own statements such as, <i>“no
one comes to the Father except through me.”</i><a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote4sym" name="sdfootnote4anc"><sup>4</sup></a>
No one.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If Hinduism is right, and the coin
comes up tails, a Christian should still be okay. All roads lead to
God. He doesn't have much to lose except maybe a Hindu wife. But if
Christ’s claim to exclusivity is true, and the coin comes up heads,
the Hindu has missed his chance at eternal life… he missed the
Mega Millions jackpot.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
From pure logic it makes no sense to be
a Hindu or an Atheist.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I do realize logic is not all that is
entailed in religious commitment. It's just one factor.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLm3Q0CEyNB4rVlFwhASio31QtOHFUpMglWdJpJibTzNudLjTNGN6uDgfFGXZ6vj8MLorwQRUVD-3B_B6XhrhuyCGLJsH-0_RieJJhawZRFrGLdecNvCTKFmk9sZeipdWxwMDMNPBjcv_x/s1600/coin+flip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLm3Q0CEyNB4rVlFwhASio31QtOHFUpMglWdJpJibTzNudLjTNGN6uDgfFGXZ6vj8MLorwQRUVD-3B_B6XhrhuyCGLJsH-0_RieJJhawZRFrGLdecNvCTKFmk9sZeipdWxwMDMNPBjcv_x/s1600/coin+flip.jpg" /></a>Pascal urges us, <i>“Do not hesitate
then: wager that He does exist… wherever there is infinity, there
is no room for hesitation, you must give everything.”</i><sup><a class="sdfootnoteanc" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote5sym" name="sdfootnote5anc">5</a></sup></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Famed missionary martyr Jim Elliott
once said, <i>"He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Call it, heads or tails?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div id="sdfootnote1">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: always;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote1anc" name="sdfootnote1sym">1</a><sup> </sup>
Jacque Wilson, <i>Why You Keep Playing the Lottery, </i>CNN, May 17,
2013
<a href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/08/15/health/psychology-playing-lottery-powerball/index.html">http://www.cnn.com/2012/08/15/health/psychology-playing-lottery-powerball/index.html </a></span>
</div>
<div class="sdfootnote">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote2anc" name="sdfootnote2sym">2</a>Ibid</div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote3">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: always;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote3anc" name="sdfootnote3sym">3</a><sup> </sup>
Bl</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">aise Pascal, <i>Pensees </i>(London: Penguin Books, 1995) Series
II, <i>The Wager</i>(233) p 123</span></div>
<div class="sdfootnote">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote4anc" name="sdfootnote4sym" style="font-size: small; line-height: 100%;">4</a><sup style="line-height: 100%;"> </sup><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 100%;">
John 14:6 (ESV)</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote4">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<a class="sdfootnotesym" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=572349171458974365#sdfootnote5anc" name="sdfootnote5sym" style="font-size: small; line-height: 100%;">5</a><sup style="line-height: 100%;"> </sup><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: 100%;">
Pascal, Ibid</span></div>
</div>
<div id="sdfootnote5">
<div class="sdfootnote">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-71733384932508116692013-09-05T20:04:00.002-04:002013-10-12T06:51:46.968-04:00A Picnic and a Show<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love a picnic. On Labor Day we sat out on a patio having a picnic. I
noticed how big of a panorama of the sky was in front of us. There were no trees or building, nothing near us, to block part of the sky before us. I was
struck by how wide and high the sky looked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_tFRLmL8wFVGCFw4E_lU-o4wbX3hUoCZLHhJzDY29bHn4nHwGj-SOVXEetSKykUkrcO8zz127_iS6AyCfHyJMoQZwKIkyGNDUEZ03hOUHsrH2PqSqN8bZtby2CLoaTFsM2r96k0gsayq/s1600/113_MG_4968_islamujeres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_tFRLmL8wFVGCFw4E_lU-o4wbX3hUoCZLHhJzDY29bHn4nHwGj-SOVXEetSKykUkrcO8zz127_iS6AyCfHyJMoQZwKIkyGNDUEZ03hOUHsrH2PqSqN8bZtby2CLoaTFsM2r96k0gsayq/s400/113_MG_4968_islamujeres.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the meal progressed, clouds began to roll in. Big
cumulo-nimbus thunderheads. There was a little bit of lightning off in the
distance. At one point we commented on how it smelled like rain. It was a feeling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
High above, over our heads were these towering thunderheads.
One website says, <i>“A good sized
cumulonimbus cloud, or thunderhead, might be ten kilometers tall (six miles),
with a base ten kilometers in diameter.”<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></b></span><!--[endif]--></span></a></i>
The tops of them radiant white in the
late afternoon sun. The lower parts of them various shades of gray where the
sun could not strike them. Then below them, obviously much lower in altitude,
came in low, whispy but dense rain clouds. Dark. Almost black.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Becca, look,”</i> said Charlie. The white on the edges of the highest clouds was intense.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She began to snap pictures.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“It’s going to rain, really hard,”</i> I said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it didn’t. A black cloud, quite low, rolled right over
our heads, carrying literally tons of water. But it didn’t rain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“He binds up the
waters in his thick clouds,
and the cloud is not rent under them…”</i><a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
said Job in the oldest book of the Bible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Look over here,”</i> said Charlie. Another breathtaking
panorama behind us.<i> “But,”</i> he said, <i>“that is past us. It’s over there that is
coming our way.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A small, private airplane flew over, well below the
billowing, roiling thunderheads. I said, “No one intentionally flies through
one of those.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was looking straight up. The shining white edge of the
topmost clouds moving across the lower black ones, forming black silhouettes of
the edges of the ominous rain clouds. What a sight! <i>“Can any one understand the spreading of the clouds, the thunderings of his
pavilion?</i>”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title="">[3]</a></span></span><a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Charlie interrupted my thoughts and pointed off into the
distance,<i> “That's the worst place.”</i> It was an extremely black, low patch. Just
by a quick scan of the sky, Charlie could point out the area where the storm
would be greatest. <i>“<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Who has put wisdom in the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span>clouds, or given understanding to the mists?</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">”<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> I guess
we take that for granted. But the skies really do give us vital information
about the weather, just by looking at them. There’s a pattern to it. A plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">We began to
retreat into the air-conditioned house, realizing God had put on a show for us.
An everyday sight, yet so majestic when you stop to ponder it. <i>“He it is who makes the clouds rise at the end of the
earth, who makes lightnings for the rain and brings forth the wind from his
storehouses.”</i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title="">[5]</a></span></span><a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_wM9toQNOvf0Ya95FLuYDLCEJ-5_OifHdnyOuE4OLyEzl_pIX-5V445ijevyinLprG8ow7jZXoJLDWGYFxjw2VmWXd4TiNIMUCMKc8B0OEsv3eWan1DnErPdJJVU4BfIAPnoLZ4_9TiD/s1600/barbie+in+da+rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_wM9toQNOvf0Ya95FLuYDLCEJ-5_OifHdnyOuE4OLyEzl_pIX-5V445ijevyinLprG8ow7jZXoJLDWGYFxjw2VmWXd4TiNIMUCMKc8B0OEsv3eWan1DnErPdJJVU4BfIAPnoLZ4_9TiD/s1600/barbie+in+da+rain.jpg" /></a><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">A few brave souls
went back outside. Moments later they came running in through the sliding
doors, <i>“It started, then stopped, then
started, then stopped… and then it came down like a curtain of water!” </i>That
was some serious rain. Little Kenzie said, <i>"Wet!"</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Like I say, I love a picnic. But a picnic and a show... that's the best. Thank you Lord.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><br /></span></div>
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</div>
<div>
<!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><br clear="all" />
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<!--[endif]-->
<br />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> <a href="http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1263/can-a-cloud-weigh-as-much-as-a-747">http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1263/can-a-cloud-weigh-as-much-as-a-747</a></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2">
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<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> Job
26:8</div>
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<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Job 36:29</div>
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<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Job 38:36</div>
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<a href="file:///D:/Mikes%20Documents%20from%20Laptop%208%2013/Mike%20Teaching/Mike%20on%20Evidences/A%20Picnic%20and%20a%20Show.docx#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Psalm 135:7<br />
Special thanks to <a href="http://blainefranger.com/blog">BlaineFranger.com/blog</a> for photo of the clouds</div>
</div>
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Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572349171458974365.post-36337172957683716282013-08-16T04:22:00.000-04:002013-08-16T08:17:38.649-04:00You Can Count on Him<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“Are not two sparrows
sold for a penny? Yet without your Father’s knowledge not one of them can fall
to the ground. As for you, even the hairs of your head have all been counted.
So do not be afraid; you are worth more than any number of sparrows.”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Admin/My%20Documents/Mike/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Are%20not%20two%20sparrows%20sold%20for%20a%20penny.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title="">[1]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Admin/My%20Documents/Mike/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Are%20not%20two%20sparrows%20sold%20for%20a%20penny.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></i>
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<i><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b><br /></b></span></span></i></div>
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God knows every random bird that <i>“falls to the ground”</i> or
perishes, all over the world. That’s what Jesus said.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZPW60bM8YhWjhiyD_yxgHm3HxEQQ-_VpcY5tUNLdUk3XpAlGDfhzbHK8Ed0mAVIbyUeees8rEob2_sIm48WqOA5gj8imrYdRR7IsLdUiYjyYPraloAXR8WlYjOKVBTmj2n_46fd08enK6/s1600/Fallen_Bird_by_BowmanDavid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZPW60bM8YhWjhiyD_yxgHm3HxEQQ-_VpcY5tUNLdUk3XpAlGDfhzbHK8Ed0mAVIbyUeees8rEob2_sIm48WqOA5gj8imrYdRR7IsLdUiYjyYPraloAXR8WlYjOKVBTmj2n_46fd08enK6/s320/Fallen_Bird_by_BowmanDavid.jpg" width="320" /></a>God knows how many hairs are on a person’s head. In fact,
this applies to every person.</div>
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<br /></div>
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A 1951 estimate by an ornithologist estimated the worldwide
bird population at <i>“more than 100 billion individual wild birds in the world…”</i><a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Admin/My%20Documents/Mike/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Are%20not%20two%20sparrows%20sold%20for%20a%20penny.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
That is 100,000,000,000 estimated. That is about fourteen birds for every human
being. If 150,000 people die each day, then the
number of birds that die every day would be 2,100,000. That is nearly 100,000
birds an hour <i>“falling to the ground.”</i> Over 16,000 a minute. Over 270 birds die each second. Yet Jesus says
<i>“without your Father’s knowledge not one of them can fall to the ground.” </i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsZX02Rq5PlD0uZBk1QFRS_fgiM2lawDVli7vthKW-nXSwRL2CbUP4LM9vBRx8xYhLc3UO_g79ynF1hxw950iokRWaI6Q2ysPy24Z-fxnclZLWlw-csSfFDfsecCYiHBy23vYOflDcO2l/s1600/handtally.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsZX02Rq5PlD0uZBk1QFRS_fgiM2lawDVli7vthKW-nXSwRL2CbUP4LM9vBRx8xYhLc3UO_g79ynF1hxw950iokRWaI6Q2ysPy24Z-fxnclZLWlw-csSfFDfsecCYiHBy23vYOflDcO2l/s1600/handtally.jpg" /></a>We’re talking an enormous knowledge base. An unfathomable
ability to process information. Talk about attention to detail! Not one of them
is missed. He is aware. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjvco3VJ9AM_qQbmf9qw91vLVkchhZVDoHtSRd8XuLd5ltb9HhLuuwngQuylGxx8phXVkR9YtT77YVouGx15ZDHnWJ0gpsLr8ae6C6nafbDtti911K3iauFjIPDpQyW4uyEI3mMfvt5RL/s1600/halloween09_hair4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjvco3VJ9AM_qQbmf9qw91vLVkchhZVDoHtSRd8XuLd5ltb9HhLuuwngQuylGxx8phXVkR9YtT77YVouGx15ZDHnWJ0gpsLr8ae6C6nafbDtti911K3iauFjIPDpQyW4uyEI3mMfvt5RL/s320/halloween09_hair4.jpg" width="285" /></a><i>“… even the hairs of your head have all been counted.”</i>
Estimates of how many hairs are on a human head range from about 100,000 to
150,000. That is for one person. I am not sure a count has ever been done that
exactly numbers even one head of hair. Another
factor is that about 100 hairs fall out per day, on average. The number keeps
varying. So take the conservative estimate of 100 K hairs. Now multiply that
times the number of people on earth, which is 7 billion. That number must come
out to 7,000,000,000,000,000. If decades old, cob-web encrusted math is
correct. That’s a lot of strands of hair. God has counted them. At any given
time, he knows the number on my head, and on yours.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Why?<br />
<br />
Why is he aware of every one of the 1000 birds that
have died as I have written this sentence? Why does he know how many hairs are
on the head of the proprietor of the Loop Plumbing Company in Mobile, Alabama? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Firstly there's the theological answer that God is omniscient, He
knows all. He is capable of doing it and he does it. Secondly, and closer to our hearts, the best answer I can come up with is that He cares. He just plain
cares. The things he's made matter to Him. They have value. This counting of impossibly high numbers of items, this awareness of
innumerable happenings, is simply a manifestation of the fact that God cares. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Birds have value. You have more value. <i>“You are worth more
than any number of sparrows.”</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<div>
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<br />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Admin/My%20Documents/Mike/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Are%20not%20two%20sparrows%20sold%20for%20a%20penny.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Matthew 10:29-30</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Admin/My%20Documents/Mike/Mike%20on%20Evidences/Are%20not%20two%20sparrows%20sold%20for%20a%20penny.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> The
Audubon Encyclopedia of North American Birds</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mike Bordonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16246724080095149129noreply@blogger.com0