Throw it down

~

“What’s in your hand?”


“N—nothing…or, um, ah—a staff—a shepherd’s staff—mine.”

“Throw it down.”

He pulls it close then, hides it behind his back. “Th…th…thr—ow?” Why? Why would He want me to throw it down—my staff? I’ve found comfort in carrying this. I know it’s just a stick, but—it’s mine. I’ve used it to rescue lambs from briars and rivers. I’ve carried it so long it’s worn smooth to my grip. I lean on it when I’m tired. I’ve grown accustomed to having it near when I sleep in the wild. With it I’ve killed snakes and disciplined sheep. He raises the staff. “You don’t mean th-th-this…do you?”

“Throw it down.”

“No…please no. Not this. Not my—not my, my staff. I. I need. I lean. I use—this. It protects me. It’s what I do. It’s who I am…a shepherd—this is my sssstaff. You, you, you don’t understand, this is what I use to carry out my daily—”

“MOSES”

“B-b-but—” he starts and stalls and stammers, then thinks. Lord, I remember you. I haven’t forgotten that once, a long time ago, I thought you would use me to deliver your people. I thought I would do something great. But, that was a long time ago, and I was wrong. Now, I’ve made too many mistakes, it’s too late. I’m too old, too tired, I have nothing left to give. Where were you back then, when I tried, when I failed, when my own people rejected me? Why are you asking me now to throw down my staff—the thing that represents my livelihood—my life? I’ve accepted my lot. I’ve gotten comfortable living out here, in the back side of this dusty desert. I’m nobody. I can’t even talk right—I bleat more like one of these sheep, than talk like a man. “N-n-not me—I can’t. I’m the wrong—”

“THROW IT DOWN MOSES”

The Voice shakes the earth. Moses backpedals bare feet and drops the staff. Forty years of security, identity and the calling card of his career fall to holy ground. And what he once held dear, hisses and slithers and fills with venom.

“Now Moses, take it by the tail.”

“But, but…Lord it’s a—a, I’m af-f-fr—scared”

“TAKE IT”

“Y…y…y yes LORD.” As trembling hand touches slithering snake the tail stiffens and becomes snake-turned-staff. But…it’s not the same. What’s happened? It looks and feels the same, but it’s lost its charm—lost its appeal. It’s just a stick. The staff has changed and so has the man.

I am more than this. I ‘m more than what I’ve become—more than a man with a stick, more than a man with a job—a shepherd for sheep.

The ember of an old dream ignites.

I haven’t been forgotten after-all. My God has found me. I’m not alone.

He kneels and lifts the scepter to his King. “I lay down this shepherds staff at your command, and I take it up again at your command, and behold it has become the rod-of-God.

And nothing—but nothing can quench the burning-bush-passion to hear, to follow, to know, The Voice, that commands the man, to lay down his staff.

 ~ ~ ~

I don’t know much about all this modern day techno-geeky stuff like—ipad, iphone, ipod, itunes, ibook, iCloud, iOS—but I do know how to use the best communication device known to man.

ipray

I’d love to pray for you—just leave me a message here or e-mail dougspurling@aol.com

Thanks for stopping by,

Doug

~

freak coincidence...or overwhelming judgment

~

Did you watch the State of The Union Address? I did. And I’ve got to say our president has a gift. He is so eloquent in his speech. He can say something I disagree with in such a way that I’m almost persuaded.

It reminded me of when I was at the gym the other day. I overheard a couple guys talking—bragging—about their kids.

“My daughter’s flying down to visit next week.” One man said as he pedaled one of those stationary bikes. “She’s married to a lawyer…” He rambled on as I continued doing stomach crunches. His voice faded.

The other guy next to him, riding a similar contraption, must have got stuck thinking about the—she’s married to a lawyer, detail. Several times he tried to interject, “Wow, if she’s married to a law—”but the other man kept rambling about something no one was listening to; it was kind of like how you nod your head after looking at the fortieth photo of someone’s grandkids.

Finally, father-lawyer-in-law said, “She’s only dated three men in her life.”And then he took a breath.

It was the other man’s chance. “Wow, if she’s married to a lawyer, she has nothing to worry about.”

I smiled through a crunch… if being married to money was the answer, that’d be true.

The men were quiet for awhile. I figured he got the response he wanted—your daughter is awesome, without a care in the world. But then, a confession, and maybe his greatest fear, leaked out. “She married all three of them. First one was an accountant. Second was a doctor…and now, the lawyer. And she’s not cheap… spends money like a drunken sailor.”

That was the end of the conversation.

The glossy snap shot looked like a fairytale where Prince Charming and Cinderella lived happily ever after in their castle. But a closer look behind the scenes revealed otherwise.

And so it goes, with me…and you…and the state of the union. Last night I heard the words, “The state of the union is strong.” I choked on my popcorn. And I’m not trying to make a statement here, I just did. It depends on which channel you’re listening to as to whether we’re doing great, or in a heap of trouble.

We don’t watch much television around here and when we do it’s rarely the news—usually it’s Hallmark or GMC. But even still I keep tabs on the heart-beat of the country and the state she’s in. How? It’s not all that hard. One thing is to not get saturated in agendas. No matter what color hat, they all basically do the same thing: apply sainthood to one and vilify the other. But, if you’re close to The One who’s really running things, you get a closer look at what’s going on behind the scenes.

The heart of the matter, matters.

I try to remember my dougism; facts change—Truth doesn’t, when listening to the political bantering. If you know and follow Truth, facts become followers.

Our president says the nation is strong and rebounding and we’re on the right track. That tickles our ears and makes us feel all warm and fuzzy. But is that what we need? Personally, as a writer, constructive criticism does more good than a high-five. I’d like to hear that we’ve got a problem with overspending and violence—both sides agree on this—they’re not the issue. They are symptoms of greed and hate, which ultimately stem from the same root—sin. That’s what I’d like to see addressed. That is what needs to be addressed.

It was ominous when he talked about how we can choose to believe Sandy and drought and wildfires were just freak coincidence, “or we can choose to believe in the overwhelming judgment…and act before it’s too late.” I wish he’d have said we can choose to believe the overwhelming judgment of God, but alas, he didn’t. He said, “the overwhelming judgment of science.

The Truth is all of these including Sandy—Hurricane and Hook—are/were indeed warnings just as President Obama implied. Only the judgment is not that of science. Our hope is not found in science. Our hope, our only hope, is in Jesus Christ. On Christ the solid rock we stand—all other ground is sinking sand.

The cough and sore throat I’m fighting right now is the symptom of some kind of virus. I let my resistance get low and opened the door for the germ to give me these symptoms. Kill the germ and the symptoms will leave. The cough isn’t the disease, the sore throat isn’t the disease—the virus is.

We have a germ that causes all of these symptoms in our lives, our family, our neighborhood, our town, our state our nation. The facts are different but the problem, the symptom, the germ is the same…sin.

It’s comforting to know moral absolutes remain the same, regardless of the age we’re in.

That’s the Truth.

So, Mr. President, if you would take your fine speech and change a few things; you could unite and strengthen this nation. Face the Truth rather than beat at the symptoms.

The first thing, sir, you must do is examine your heart. You can’t lead where you’re unwilling to go. You may say, who do you think you are talking to me that way? I know what’s best. Maybe you do. And if so, then you won’t fear a little self-exam, right?

And you’re right—who am I, that you’d listen to me? But…

Step back and forget yourself for a moment. You are not red or blue or black or male or Christian or muslim or president or peasant—you are an observer. See if you can find an example. Someone who has stood the test of time without falling, is there one? Is there a person whose life exemplifies what is good and right and true without hidden agendas for personal gain? Has there been one who has spent their life uniting rather than dividing? If there is such a person, would it be worth looking into their lives to see what makes them tick; what they believe; what they think is worth living…and dying for?

There is such a person—still alive today. He has influenced the world for decades. He has counseled more presidents than any other man in history. Consider the life of a man who has lived in a fish bowl for over half a century and yet has remained, above reproach. He’s has bridged the gap of generations and political agendas. It’s worth a gaze into his life, his beliefs, yes? The man you may have already guessed, since you’ve met him face to face.

Billy Graham will tell you that the only answer, the only hope for America is Jesus Christ. How can this man stand unwaveringly decade after decade if what he held onto was not the Truth? Surely, the life of this influential leader bids you to pay attention Mr. President. Surely you can’t ignore his plea for decades to turn to Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins and reconciliation to God.

Jesus is the cure for the virus that plagues our society. He alone is the way to the Father. Mr. President you have longed for the love of a father, well sir, you are loved by the greatest Father of all. He is waiting for you to turn to Him. He has gifted you with the ability to lead. You can be remembered as the man, like King Josiah of old, who turned a nation back to God. You can do this…if you will.

I fear for our county Mr. President, she must turn from the root cause of her problems. You know greed caused the downfall of our economy and the greed has not been dealt with—it still remains. Hatred causes the bloodshed of innocents—the hatred cannot be legislated away. We need you to lead us to Jesus. I challenge you today to seek Him first. Acknowledge before your country that you are going to trust The Creator of heaven and earth, the Lord God Almighty, not science, not technology, not your own strength but God—only He can pull us through.

And as for us, we the people, stand united in prayer for you.

~

Re Pete

~

He sits on shore, near the fire he just built.


Orange and gold waves waltz with morning sun.

Too tired to argue with the man’s request, they toss the net; it slaps the water and starts to sink, just as it had done—to no avail—all night long.

One man yawns, another closes his eyes and rests his head on the side of the boat. The others sit and stare; all listen to waves slap a lullaby against the bow. No one expects—


The boat pitches and lists as if hit by a wave.


“Pull!” Seasoned fishermen scramble for the net.


“My God—the nets going to break! Pull!”


My God?...it’s Him…

“It’s Him—my God!" He jumps.


Usually, folks take off clothes, or at least heavier garments, before jumping in the water, but not this man, he puts them back on, and plunges into the sea.


The man on shore stands, crosses his arms, and laughs right out loud. You needn’t put your cloak on, to come to me. But, it shows evidence of another cloak you needed to wear—humility. It suits you well, my friend.

The man swimming toward shore feels stupid. Why’d I jump? I always do that—jump first, think later. I should’ve stayed in the boat. That’s where I belong. I’m a fisherman—for fish, not men—that’s all. Now he’ll think I’m still the same old loud mouth traitor… maybe I am. After all, I turned my back on him, I denied him. Maybe, I should quit…sink—let the sea swallow me. He stops swimming, releases air from his lungs, and starts to descend.

The man on shore watches the lone swimmer encumbered by garments...Remember, the catch, when I called you to become a fisher of men? It was a great catch that day… remember? Only then—the net broke. I heard what you said that day: “At your word, I’ll let down the net.” But alas, what you were thinking was this: “I’m the fisherman—and you’re the preacher; so when we look like fools for pulling up an empty net, remember—you said it not me.” Peter, this time the net won’t break—and neither will you.

His lungs burn. Dark water pulls him deep. He thinks he’s dying; he hears The Master’s Voice calling him to remember another time, another catch, a few years ago. That was a good day—that’s when I started to see Him for who He is—The Christ. It was before I blew it…before I denied Him… before I sank. I'm useless to him now.

Jesus stretches out his hand toward the man…Peter bar Jonah, I once prepared a fish to swallow a man named Jonah, something I don’t want to repeat, I want to restore you Peter—Come.

Peter sinks and thinks. It’s so cold, so dark—so familiar. I remember this place. I’ve been here before…He said “Come.”I got out of the boat. I walked on water. But, like always, I failed. I looked away—I sank, into this cold, into this dark. I should have drowned that day…but His hand. He reached out His hand...

Light flashes a glimpse of the Carpenter’s hand—only it’s different, scarred, pierced-clean-through. And Peter hears The Voice, “Come.”

He claws for the surface, toward the Light, and finally staggers to shore, toward the Man by the fire. But then, he remembers; it was by a fire, I denied Him. He stops.

Tears can’t be seen for the water from the sea, but they’re there, just the same.

How arrogantly I had declared my allegiance above the others. How gently Jesus warned; “Three times, you will deny you even know me.”


And now He repeats three times…three times, the question and the call, one for each denial. “Do you love me more than these?”

Peter can’t repeat the words, more than these. He can only kneel, not trusting his own heart. “Yes, Lord, you know all things, you know I love you.”

He still knows...still hears...no matter how deep you've sank, no matter how far you've gone—He still calls. “Do you love me?”

~

I don’t know much about all this modern day techno-geeky stuff like—ipad, iphone, ipod, itunes, ibook, iCloud, iOS—but I do know how to use the best communication device known to man.

ipray

I’d love to pray for you—just leave me a message here or e-mail dougspurling@aol.com

Thanks for stopping by,

Doug

~