The Welcome Valley Reader
Essays
Bridges are important in regular wars. Bridges take armies across rivers and canyons. Enemy armies try to stop each other at bridges. An army destroys the bridge before its enemy gets there. The enemy army cannot use the bridge then. They cannot attack. They cannot escape. The river or canyon stops them. Sometimes the river or canyon also stops the army that destroyed the bridge. When this happens we say they “burned their bridge behind them.” Bridges are important in spiritual war too. We do not destroy bridges people use to cross rivers, but we need to destroy some spiritual bridges. It works like this.
He had a lot to deal with, and the fact that he knew of people making good money with less education didn’t make the grind any easier. Finally, within weeks of graduation, Jack had had enough. He dropped out.
t t t
“Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.” The man who spoke those words had incredible gall. He had just admitted he deserved to be hanging by nails from a wooden rack in public. He had just admitted he was dying because he was evil.
What is eternal life worth? Is it worth everything? Think about death. Think about Hell. Such thoughts bring to mind the day a school bully was chasing me. He grabbed my jacket. I slipped out of my jacket and kept running. I was willing to pay about any price if only I could make it safely home. When making it safely home means making it to Heaven, there is no price I wouldn’t be willing to pay. That price leads to a problem.
I felt honored the day a little boy waved at me. He was sitting by his back door on a nice spring morning. I was across the alley running a forklift for the lumber company for which I had recently started working. Presumably, he would have waved at any adult whose attention he could claim, but then, I was a little boy once too. A man driving a forklift is exciting to a preschooler. Driving a forklift comes across as less exciting to the man driving it.
“Dave, I want to show you something.” My flight instructor took control of the two-seat Cessna. Moments later the airplane pitched over. The sky disappeared from the windshield as we plunged earthward, spinning wildly. I felt like I was going to die as I braced against gravity. We were in what pilots call a spin. While the fear factor was real, I had asked for this very experience.
Are you willing to fail for the Lord? Fail for the Lord? Now wait a minute!
Anyone who has experienced winter in the northern forest knows how welcome springtime can be. The change to mild weather happens almost reluctantly, and snow flurries can occur after the first thunderstorm, but spring is still spring. The air warms. The snow melts. The soil thaws and begins to warm. The water left by the snow dries up. Trees bud. The grass turns green. The glories of a northern summer begin to assert themselves. Spring is a most welcome time in the north woods. Spring is also a dangerous time in the north woods.
I gave my cat a dose of flea medicine today. He didn’t like
it. For that matter, he didn’t like it the last time or the time before that
either. As one who feared doctors and shots as a kid, I almost understand. Only,
this medicine isn’t a shot. It’s not even a pill to disguise as something nice.
It is simply a little tube of liquid. It is dispensed by holding the small end
of the tube against his neck and squeezing the large end. His body absorbs the
medicine through the skin, which in turn helps repel fleas and ticks.
How to Have a Relationship with God
Spiritual life represents the highest level of human existence. That life,
however, doesn't come from our own efforts. It must come directly from God. The
spirit of the person who enters into a relationship with God receives life--the
ability to actually function on a spiritual level and to live forever. The
person who doesn't have this relationship is separated from God and unable to
live in the spiritual sense, now or after death. Getting life from God is the
most important thing any of us can ever do. Since God loves us, He is eager to
give us spiritual life and the relationship that causes it as a gift. Based on
the Bible, here is how you can receive God's gift of spiritual life.
This photo obviously represents a winter view. Yes, forest growth still slows part of the stream. But look carefully. The creek still runs. A few miles to the southwest, a lake that is at least a mile wide and long lies frozen over, its ice buried in snow. A river big enough for canoes lies a few miles to the north. It is ice enshrouded. A well-known canoe river lies a few more miles to the north. It, too, is covered with ice. Yet, this little stream flows on.
New! My Cat's Food is Eating His Food
My cat's food is eating his food! OK, now that you're thoroughly confused, here's what's happening.
As young boys will do, my cousin and I sometimes pretended we were men and in the military. Whoever had the latest toys influenced which branch of service we fancied ourselves part of.
One day, my cousin increased his standing in the ranks. He came up with medals. They weren’t the real thing, of course, just two pieces of gold-colored plastic fastened to colorful ribbons. They hadn’t cost so very much at the dime store, but in a world of make-believe they represented valor. The guy with medals is no longer just a warrior; he’s a warrior who has done something really good. (This story is told to illustrate a spiritual truth rather than to make a political or militaristic statement.)
I suppose I might as well confess. I haven’t always done a good job of maintaining my cars. One vehicle in particular comes to mind, a small red station wagon that I really liked. Liking a car and liking to work on it are not the same thing, however, and changing oil ranked high on the list of things I didn’t like to do. As a result, that poor car went a lot more than the normal 3,000 miles between oil changes
Noah and the Two Sides of Grace
My in-box recently displayed e-mails touching on one of Christianity's most important controversies. One e-mail asserted that grace frees us from a regulated lifestyle. The writer’s view of grace emphasizes that we cannot earn our way with God, that grace is God's goodness to the undeserving. The other electronic letter proclaimed that grace is God’s empowerment to become what He wants us to be. That writer seemed to suggest that God's grace helps us live so as to be deserving. The underlying theology is huge; and since we depend upon God's grace for salvation, we do well to come down on the right side of this dispute.
In October I broke down and took my cat to the veterinarian. The law required a rabies shot. The professionals at the vet clinic expanded that one shot to include a couple other shots, treatment for fleas and ear mites I didn’t know he had, and a schedule for neutering. Adopting a stray cat gets expensive. After talking with the vet, so does feeding him.
New! On Growing Up Without Television
It's kind of ironic, but I watch a lot of television at work. The people I work for subscribe to cable and keep a TV in the office. When there's down time or when my duties keep me inside, I see something I have spent most of my life without.
I saw a slogan on a man’s T-shirt yesterday that bothered me. It said, “Rehab is for quitters.” Maybe if the man didn’t make his living selling alcoholic beverages, his shirt wouldn’t have screamed so loudly. But he does, and it did. Maybe if I didn’t spend part of my time ministering to people whose lives are being destroyed by alcohol, I could have appreciated the humor. But I do, and I didn’t. Oh, I understand our society’s disdain for “quitters.” People who start out to do something and then drop out leave lots of unhappiness in their wakes.
Christians seem fascinated with the Bible’s prophecies about the end of the earth. We greet new technology with speculation that the anti-Christ will use it to subdue the world. We watch events in Israel and the Middle-East and tell ourselves that each happening is a step toward the end. We map and remap the course to Armageddon with changing international trends. Christian novels with end-times themes become best sellers. Prophecy conferences draw large crowds. Every now and again someone even attracts widespread attention by predicting the date of Christ's return.
When I was a schoolboy,
sir was an awesome word. In my
father’s stories of World War II, ordinary soldiers called the officers who
commanded them, “Sir!” My southern cousins were taught to use the word when
addressing their father. I both envied and pitied those cousins. I could imagine
myself saying, “Sir,” but I couldn’t actually do so—it was too humbling
You are looking at a picture of Liberty Cap. This rock formation at Yellowstone National Park in the western United States stands over thirty feet tall. It’s one of the many impressive natural features in the park. Just to keep you guessing, though, Liberty Cap isn’t a rock formation. It’s a spring of water. Water? That’s correct, or at least it was.
A clear-sided container held several small tropical fish. Swimming in the same tank were piranhas. Piranhas, of course, are also small tropical fish, but they were the bigger of the two species. The difference, other than size and shape, is reputation. Piranhas are known killers. They aren’t something you’d want to be in the same tank with--especially if you happened to be a smaller fish.
It dawned on me a short time ago that today is April 15. This date is, perhaps, the most dreaded day on the U.S. calendar.
The building near the edge of downtown caught my eye the first time I saw it. It stood tall and narrow like the skyscrapers pictured in old books. Of course, it only stood ten stories tall. It didn’t really count as a skyscraper beside the city’s newer fifty-story buildings. It was very visibly old and decaying. A tree had sprouted and grown from a small roof on the side of the main tower. At first, the weathering letters on its side seemed to spell "Joy Tower." A closer look showed that this was the Ivy Tower. It looked like an abandoned building on that day twelve years ago.
Those traveling cross-country at night often see a beam of white light arching across the sky. It sweeps across the blackness, then disappears. But it reappears, flashing steadily until sunrise. This light might seem eerie, except most people know what it is. It comes from the beacon at an airport.
In the early stages of adopting my cat last summer, I realized he wouldn't be a house cat. I don't own my house, and the owner doesn't want a cat inside. Prince will have to be an outdoor cat. Eventually I built an insulated cat house from a combination of newly purchased wood and some scraps. Like the ones on the internet, it stood up on stilts with a front deck big enough for a cat to lie on. Otherwise, it was a lot like a flat-roofed dog house. Another old coat went inside for bedding. There was one problem. Prince wasn't interested in his cat house.
My morning walk takes me through a swamp. It isn’t a large swamp, only a wet area along the banks of a small stream. I enjoy the swamp. Rabbits and deer shelter in its bushes. The deep grass stands heavy with dew. Tiny minnows swim in the clear, shallow brook. The standing water reflects the sky. The whole visual picture seems to call out for exploration. Yet, as I ponder the scene, I realize that I don’t want to get serious about exploring the swamp.
One might say that even at a very early age, the lonely prairie left me restless. An example would be my reaction to the freight trains that clattered along lonely prairie tracks. They were pulled by boxy diesel locomotives. My books, on the other hand, pictured streamlined diesels pulling the matching cars of passenger trains. The streamliners looked so modern. The clunky old prairie locomotives just plain lacked culture.
The summer forest is an easy place to hide. Small creatures duck out of sight in countless trees. Areas of dense underbrush shelter larger animals. As summer turns to fall and fall turns to winter, the situation seems to change. The leaves fall away revealing the heart of the forest. Then, snow comes and buries fallen leaves, old logs, stumps, and other hiding places. Somehow, a walk in the winter woods still fails to reveal much wildlife. Some creatures hibernate. Others congregate in sheltered areas. Some tunnel under the snow. The winter forest might even seem more deserted than the summer forest.
The training airplane’s large wing and light weight made for a rough ride in the unstable air. The Cessna 150 rocked, wobbled, and plunged through the sky. Each bounce jerked the plane from either its altitude or its course. While the turbulence hardly counted as dangerous, it gave a sixteen-year-old student pilot flying solo more challenge than he cared for. But the rough air wasn’t my worst problem that afternoon.
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How to Have a Relationship with God
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Bridges to Burn * Dropping Out * Dying Faith * Everything I Didn't Have * Exciting People * Failed Horizons * Failing for the Lord * Fire Danger * Flea Medicine * Living Water * My Cat's Food Is Eating His Food * My Medals * Negligence * Noah and the Two Sides of Grace * Of Cat Food and Christians * On Growing Up Without Television * Quitting Isn't Always Bad * Ready * Sir * Spring or Rock Formation? * Swimming with Piranhas * Tax Day * The Abandoned Skyscraper * The Beacon * The Cat in the Trash Can * Those New Antique Locomotives * The Road Through the Swamp * Tracks in the Woods * Trusting the Unseen
