Holy Spirit

Lerachef is the Hebrew word for hovering. It is the first recorded action of the Holy Spirit in the Bible.  The first recorded place the Holy Spirit was doing this was over the waters of the formless and void earth, where darkness was on the face of the deep.  The Spirit of God, the second person of the Trinity of God the Most High mentioned in the Bible came to a dark, vacuous, wreck of a place, and was hovering over the very place where chaos (the deep) abides.  Before God spoke the Word over this wreck of a place, the Holy Spirit came to hover over it, quietly, like an engineer, or an architect scoping out the rise and fall of landscape before deciding where to begin work. 

I wonder, did the water ripple under the Holy Spirit’s scrutiny?  Was there a slight breeze coming from that examination?  Was there wind ushering from that Holy inspection?  He was hovering over where chaos lived, at its front door, but there was no trepidation, no fear.  Just hovering.  Taking it all in, perhaps measuring.  Perhaps gathering the blueprint of the amazing operation that was about to commence. But chaos was quiet, obedient, and completely still. A beautiful peace, just hovering.  How long?  And then, God said…

When talking or writing of the Trinity of the Most High God, we use this order:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  The Father is first, because He is the generator of ideas, the provider, the protector.  But the Holy Spirit was the next person in the Trinity mentioned in the Genesis account, not the Son.  The Holy Spirit came hovering over the site in preparation for the spoken Word, the Son, for what He would do.  

It is interesting that before the Son, Jesus of Nazareth began His ministry among humankind, there was one who came before Him, in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Mark chapter 1, verses 2 and 3 tell the story of how it was The Plan to send a messenger to prepare the way before Jesus.  “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make His paths straight.’”  John the Baptizer was born of a mother who was barren up to that time, and a father who was a priest serving in the Temple of God.  It was a miracle that his mother, Elizabeth, became pregnant.  When Mary, the mother of Jesus came to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, the infant in her womb leaped and was filled with the Holy Spirit in the presence of Jesus, also an infant in Mary’s womb.  

It was John the Baptist, filled with the Holy Spirit, who prepared the way for the Lord by preaching repentance in the wilderness by the Jordan River, where he baptized those responding to his message.  John told the people that gathered to hear him, “There comes One after me who is mightier than I, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to stoop down and loose.”  He was, by the Holy Spirit, preparing for something completely new, very intense, and life changing.  And when he had baptized Jesus, it was the Holy Spirit Who descended like a dove from the sky and hovered over Him as the Father spoke of Jesus, “You are my beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased.”

Hovering again, just before guiding Jesus deeper into the desert for forty days and the chaos of temptation by the evil one.  Hovering of the Holy Spirit equals Divine preparation and guidance.  It is what the Holy Spirit does.

After Jesus had completed His mission of Redeeming humankind, and He was getting ready to leave this earth, He made His disciples a promise.  He said in John 14.16-18, “And I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever; even the Spirit of truth; Whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him; but ye know Him; for He dwelleth in you, and shall be in you.  I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you.”  And in Acts 1.8:  “But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

Acts 2.1-4:  “When the Day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place.  And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting.  Then there appeared to them divided tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them.  And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.”

But there is one more purpose the Holy Spirit accomplishes in us.  He seals us until Jesus returns.  He marks us for God, for our inheritance from God through Christ Jesus.  Ephesians 1.13 & 14 tells of it.  And its the Holy Spirit in us that holds God's full wrath from coming upon the earth.  It's the Holy Spirit in us that brings clarity and peace to any location or situation we come into.

Hovering.  Preparing.  Guiding.  Comforting.  Helping.  Empowering.  These are the obvious and patent works of the Holy Spirit, second in order of scripture of the Trinity of God the Most High.  God the Father had a phenomenal idea, and before the Word (Jesus) was spoken, the Holy Spirit hovered and prepared the work, faced off with chaos, heralding a new thing.  God gives humankind an idea, the Holy Spirit is there facing off with chaos, hovering, preparing, guiding, comforting, helping, empowering us to accomplish it. 

He is the original and always completely effective anti-depressant.  He is the original attention getter, calling our senses to danger that we do not see.  He is the bringer of that peace that goes beyond our human understanding.  And like a blanket that brings warmth, dispels worry, and instills confidence, the Holy Spirit covers the lives of those who believe and follow after Jesus, the Way, the Truth, the Life. If you feel like you're drowning in a sea of chaos, just start singing, "Holy Spirit, Thou art welcome in this place," or "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." Invite the Holy Spirit into your chaos, grief, anger, sadness, frustration. Do it. Watch what happens.

Father

Colloquium cum Deo Altissimo

(Conversations with the Most High God)

Father

The word-picture You supplied to us about Who we call the first person of the Godhead is the Father. And whatever that means in the integrity of the Divine, humans understand it clearly. I am a father, and this is how I understand God, our Father. I can begin to know You by what Jesus said about You: speaking to humans, He said, “If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father Who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!” I can relate to that.  

When my sons came into the world I had ideas about what kind of experience I could provide for them. Three words in this sentence give me a broader picture of Who the Father God is: Ideas, experience, provide.

It was Your idea, Heavenly Father, it was all Your idea. You were not created, You have always existed, and we cannot fathom that beyond the words.  But everything we at least know about, and  there is so very much we do not know about, the idea of it all came from You, Father. You were not alone in Your I Am-ness, so you made the angels to be what we know of as Your Divine Council, the Ben he Elohim, the sons of God. You wanted to create beings that could share in Your creativity, Your idea of comradery, and to witness Your Omniscience, Omnipotence, and Omnipresence. And when You laid the foundations of the earth the sons of God, the Ben he Elohim rejoiced at it. 

You wanted them to experience all that with You. With them, with us, You wanted to share the experience of a new thing You were doing, like I dreamed of sharing the things I know about and like to do with my sons. The creativity I have fostered in my sons is an idea that comes from the Heart of The Father, God-You! I want my sons to understand what I understand, to learn how to use that knowledge to create their lives, their existence, to bring experience to themselves and others, even their children. Father God, I see that You are for us, about us, investing Your cleverness, Your tenacity, Your genius, Your Personality, Your humor, and ultimately Your divinity through Your only begotten, Jesus.

And with that comes provision. I have, with the money I have worked for, provided cameras, skateboards, computers, snowboards, sports equipment, musical instruments, cool clothes, books, education, correction, discipline, and everything that could spawn creativity for living the life they choose. I provided them the freedom to choose, because You provide us with that freedom. You said that whatever we bind and loose in heaven and in earth will be bound or loosed. You provided the ability to see something that does not exist as though it does, and the power to make it happen with Your permission and even Your help and guidance. I can see Your beautiful heart, Father God, in small part in the heart You have provided me. You created these things, it was Your pleasure to do so, and You pronounced them good. In every conceivable way You have modeled how a good father should behave, so that we have every opportunity to create goodness and beauty in truth. You have given us so much more than we can ask or conceive. Thank You, my Father God.

But, even more than all this, You planned our salvation before You had even laid the foundations of the earth. You foresaw our sin, our wanton evil desire that would derail Your idea of togetherness for a time. You saw the glitch before time, and had already made a way of restoring union with You, because You are I Am! What an invincible love! What an indomitable heart! What a Father You are!

GOD

 Colloquium cum Deo Altissimo

(Conversations with The Most High God)

- by D. Aubrey Crawford

Before there was space, matter, and continuum, there was You.  In my finite understanding, You were I Am, You are I Am, and You will always be I AM. (Inhalation, exhalation) YHWH.  I can say the words, but full comprehension is beyond me: perfect tri-unity,  Three distinct Persons in One: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.  Originator, Activator, Motivator.  I Am, I Do, I Will, or any sequence thereof, humans identify you as El Shaddai, Adonai, El Elyon, The Most High, YHWH of the Elohim, to all creation.  

All I can begin to comprehend is that in the beginning, in Your Tri-unity, and possibly with angels witnessing, You created the heavens and the earth.  All I know of the heavens is what I can see in the sky, and that is Your Tabernacle, Your temporary throne room, like a cosmic tent.  All I know of earth is that it is a speck of sand in oceans of space, the heavens above the sky, and it is little more than Your footstool.  You are the creative Source, the Generator of this immense idea, the universe, stars, planets, galaxies, solar systems, nebulas, black holes, comets, worlds within worlds.  And in the obscure far-reaches of all it is a little blue marbled speck on which You created humankind.

From what You have made and where You have made it I think You have a fondness for obscurity and meniality.  You love making grandness from the very least likely sources.   We seem to be hanging precariously on nothing in space, our earth, spinning continuously on axis, while hurtling wildly around our star, the sun, which is caught in the current of galaxial forces whipping around the galaxy’s center at an unfathomable break-neck speed.  There is a profound danger and wildness about it all.  But it is all directed by You, like safe danger, but maybe not so safe.  You like wildness, perhaps, because You are untamable.  In a way, it resembles human life: you can’t know anything about it until you live it: the essence of experience.  Whether it is ordered chaos or chaotic order, it is amazing, awesome, perfect, deeply beautiful, and hauntingly exhilarating!

Under it, above it, through it all, holding it all in its perfect place is Your unseen power, Your Omnipotence, Omniscience, and Omnipresence.  Every particle I am made of, every particle of space dust in every sector of its vastness, You hold in place, sustain, perpetuate, and direct according to Your will.  The Most High God.  El-Elyon.  YaHWeH.  Father, Son, Holy Spirit.

Church

There was an old song my Aunt Wanda used to sing.  "My House is full, but my field is empty.  Who will go and work for me today?  It seems my children all want to stay around my table.  But no one wants to work in my field.  No one wants to work in my field."

Fellow Christ followers, I do not care how cliché it sounds, nor how many suit-wearing preachers try to denounce or qualify this statement:  YOU ARE THE CHURCH!  As the Apostle Peter wrote in the Bible, you are Living Stones God is using to build His House.  It is a house of life, love, and purpose.  The buildings we gather in are built of dead stones, lumber, morter, concrete, and steel.  Those are merely places of meeting.  They are not holy, except for the actual living stones meeting inside them.  Yes, anywhere God meets with His Living Stones, His Church is holy, but only because You and God are there.  Everywhere you go you carry the Holy Spirit inside you.  At home, at work, at the doctor's office, at Cosco, you are the Church.  The fields that are ripe for harvest is every person that passes thru your presence who is not walking daily with God.  

God didn't do His wonderful mighty work of Salvation for us to go to a building and sing songs and hear the Word preached, and call it worship, or church.  It is a good and useful thing to do, but the purpose of it is to be built up in our faith in order to be the Church elsewhere.  It is merely one place where worship begins, and that place can literally be anywhere-where 2 or 3 are gathered.  If there's you, Jesus in your heart, and the Holy Spirit you brought, you can have church, be the church, and even grow the church!!!  

The gifts God has given to us in the "five-fold ministry," the gifts of the Holy Spirit living in you, and other gifts were not meant to be utilized in what we call a church setting, though that should be a good place to learn about them and practice them. They were given for the support and guidance of Living Stones, and to attract and call others to Conversion.  Where are these "others?"  Usually not at church.  Usually anywhere else, but.

Luke 14:16-24 NLT

[16] Jesus replied with this story: “A man prepared a great feast and sent out many invitations. [17] When the banquet was ready, he sent his servant to tell the guests, ‘Come, the banquet is ready.’ [18] But they all began making excuses. One said, ‘I have just bought a field and must inspect it. Please excuse me.’ [19] Another said, ‘I have just bought five pairs of oxen, and I want to try them out. Please excuse me.’ [20] Another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’ [21] “The servant returned and told his master what they had said. His master was furious and said, ‘Go quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and invite the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ [22] After the servant had done this, he reported, ‘There is still room for more.’ [23] So his master said, ‘Go out into the country lanes and behind the hedges and urge anyone you find to come, so that the house will be full. [24] For none of those I first invited will get even the smallest taste of my banquet.’”

https://bible.com/bible/116/luk.14.16-24.NLT

Jesus was not telling His guys to bring people to church, He was telling them bring them to Heaven with them for eternal fellowship.  Bringing people to Jesus does not equal bringing them to "church."  There was no "church" then, as we understand it.  Jesus was commanding they bring anyone and everyone who would come into fellowship with Himself so that He could continue building the Church with living stones.  

This is not a denunciation of going to a building called "church."  It is a reminder that the Ekklesians, the called out ones, the Living Stones are, indeed, the Church and is not begun, limited to, or retired within material walls built by human hands.  Taking Jesus with you into every situation, building, locality, visitation, occupation, mediation, arbitration, everywhere you go is the job of every Living Stone, His spiritual building material.  Worship is merely doing what He would do, would have you do.  Where you are is the Church. When you are being the Church where ever you are, that is worship, and may or may not have anything to do with singing songs and listening to preaching in a material building. I encourage you to increase your perspective accordingly.

expanded

We live in a world swimming in an ocean of pain.  "Life is sufferring," is the first noble truth attributed to Siddartha Gautama, aka, the Buddha.  The Dread Pirate Roberts hurled the phrase "Life is pain," at the over-privileged Buttercup in response to her complaining of her unfair predicament in The Princess Bride. 

Pain touches every living soul. Today we have institutions, mind and body doctors, counselors, pain management specialists, advocates, drugs, massive industries all specified for the treatment of pain and sufferring in full scope.  There are political and social machines profitting from the generation of false pain.  How popular it is for people to make pain their excuse for failing to fulfill their responsibilities, not taking care of themselves, their families, their jobs. Some make their pain an excuse for poor behavior, even destructive behavior. Today, pain is exploited, creating burdens on family members and society at large. Real and imagined, pain and sufferring is part of living in a fallen world. 

His mother named him pain.  

There are translative inferences he lived with some sort of pain.  Whether a physical disability, mental anguish, or pain because of family trouble is not made clear in scripture.  Yet, the Bible says that he was more honorable than his brothers:

I Chronicles 4:9-10 NKJV

[9] Now Jabez was more honorable than his brothers, and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, “Because I bore him in pain.” [10] And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying, “Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!” So God granted him what he requested. -1st Chronicles 4.9-10 NKJV

"So God granted him what he requested."  

Who knows what kind of pain Jabez dealt with. His times were harder probably than anything we can conceive of today. But this snapshot of a story is so relevant for our time.  This is all that is said of Jabez in the Bible, but it is purposefully placed in a time of great uncertainty.  It is like an island of solace in a sea of all hell breaking loose.

He did not seek to exploit his pain.  Instead he made his goal to be an honorable man in the middle of it.  Counter culture much?  But he went a step further.  Jabez, this man of pain, had the audacity to ask God for more.  He was already elevated by his desire to be honorable and by his accomplishment of it.  That took decisive and radical perseverance.  His request beyond that was not for selfish gain, but the opposite.  How do I know it was not a selfish request?  Because God granted it. 

 "Expand my territory."  

In the land where he lived, expanding literal territory involved brutal violence to gain it,  unceasing vigilance to keep it, and back-breaking work to make it productive. If he was asking to have his land holdings expanded, he was asking, in essence, for more pain.  Figuratively, he was asking God to make him a better person.  Some commentators say he wanted to expand his influence.  Maybe.  But becoming a better person would naturally expand one's influence.

"...that You would keep me from evil,"

This guy definitely had a bead on something transcendent.  Merely, the desire to be honorable is honorable.  Somehow, this guy, in the middle of such a wild uncertain time, knew that going to the trouble of being honorable was something God held in high esteem.  We talk about God's love for us, but this fellow must have taken it personally-"God loves ME!"-to have the cajones to ask God to make him an even better person!  More than a request to keep evil from happening to him, the fulcrum of this request was not wanting to do anything malicious.  And the root of that chaste desire seems to be that he just did not want to be the cause of pain for anyone.

"...that I may not cause pain..."  

If we can live our days and not cause anyone pain, if we can stay away from anything and everything that would cause us to behave in a bad way, God's ear would be hard turned toward our hearts and our voices.  Sumarily, the lesson we can take away is we can accomplish any and all of this, if we can learn how to take our pain to God, and leave it with Him. 

" I'm trading my sorrows, I'm trading my pain, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord." -Darrell Evans

 Learn this and your territory will be expanded.  Make your request to God.  I bet His response will be, "As you wish."

Thanks, Jabez.  "Mommy's little pain."

freedom

 Eighty-four years since Pearl Harbor, and hardly a mention of it this year.  The real definition of ‘freedom’ is passing away.  If you talk about it, especially around subsequent generations, you quietly get ‘cancelled,’ as it is being called today.  They may still allow you around in their presence, but you’re labeled a preacher, an agitator, a relic.  In their mind when they see you, they see a walking, talking embodiment of non sequitur – illogical, unconnected, irrelevant.   To be fair, it is what every generation has done to the one preceding in varying degree.  But it feels like those degrees are sharper.

 Freedom on its face is “anything goes.”  That is such an ignorant, low-born understanding of the word.  I used to think freedom was anything untethered from responsibility.  Generally, the younger the population, the more this definition is in play.  But when you are young, you are ignorant and foolish, and think you are enlightened and pure.  Many are old and still think this way.  What a disastrous combination, and disaster is the only antidote for that condition.  When, at last, you realize you are no longer young, you finally understand how very little you know.  

For many, their ill-understanding of freedom has ravaged their finances, their occupations, their bodies, even their sanity.  I watched a group of several thousand such-minded people at an epic rock concert in 1988.  Being present for the musical performances of those bands was watching Rock history happen, and it was an act of my foolish definition of freedom at the time.  Once there, illicit drug and alcohol abuse, prostitution, etc., was everywhere.  There were people who never made it to the concert for over-dosing, and alcohol poisoning-unpleasant pictures to look upon.  There were fights getting into the concert, during the concert, people getting trampled, cut, beaten.  Mauling, writhing hordes trying to reach the front of the stage caused many injuries.  A few even lost their lives. 

Looking back almost forty years, I am amazed at the ignorance, arrogance, and fatalism that drove that crowd.  It was a microcosm of what Hell must be like.  I didn’t make it all the way through the concert.  Too much to drink, not enough to eat, and a little smashed up, I finished up on top of the van we rented to get there because falling asleep on the ground meant getting robbed, and possibly worse.  But I can say I was at the original Monsters of Rock at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, California in the summer of 1988.  How very little that really means to me, anymore.

True freedom, oddly enough, comes with strings attached.  It is not free.  To live in true freedom there are some things you have to know and a lot you have to do.  You have to know who you are.  You have to know Who’s you are.  You have to have experienced enough of life to realize you have to guide your desires and dreams.  Not everything you want is good for you, and those things set you up for getting robbed of freedom.  True freedom builds.  It builds you as a person.  Made in God’s image and likeness, you are His original idea.  The things you accel at are His clues pointing you toward true freedom.  Spending time and resources getting even better at those things is the path to true freedom in this life. 

Embracing those challenging situations, those challenging people, in constant conversation with the Father, God, is how we learn about ourselves, our weak points, our strengths.  It is how we grow.  Failure is one of the greatest teachers.  Success is not defined as reaching our goals, it is learning how to navigate the tough spots.  Fail forward.  Failure is ok.  And quitting, for a time to regather yourself, is ok, too, as long as you quit quitting and relaunch into the fray.  And keep doing it.  Keep trying, failing, succeeding, keep doing it.  When you come to a place your thoughts are not dominated by worry of the next challenge because you know you can handle it, you have stepped inside the borderlands of true freedom.  If it sounds like a lot of work, it is.  At times true freedom is excruciatingly laborious.

If you decide to screw it all, you have just held your hands out to be chained.  Ignorance of how amazing you are, giving in to negative thoughts and base desires, refusing to see from a different perspective, and laziness will shackle you to depression, poverty, and nothingness.  I have been there.  I have lived there for a time.  It is hell without the flames.  If you cannot see a better time, if you have no hope, no love, no faith, you are already bound.  What can possibly lift you out of that hellish place? 

That you can have these thoughts, joy and sorrow, is a testimony that you were made for something more-true freedom.  If you were an accident, as most of our educational institutions declare, why would you feel deep joy or sorrow?  Why would you care at all, knowing that there could be a better situation, a better life?  Why would you feel the loss of something?  Why would you feel anything at all?  There is something in you that reaches out.  Something in you reaches out for something better, for meaning, for purpose.  Where does that come from? 

A man named Solomon, who is known as the wisest man on earth, after living a life without restraint, without morals, fulfilling every whim of his baseness, wrote these words in a summary of his experiences called the Book of Ecclesiastes:

“God has made everything beautiful for its own time.  He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”  Eccl 3.11 NLT  

That something inside you that reaches out is a part of Himself that God made you with.  There is forever in your heart.  Get to know Him, and you have begun down the path to being who you were made to be.  And I assure you, you were made for true freedom.  It can only be found on this path. 

The men who gave their lives during Pearl Harbor and the Second World War understood that freedom is not free.  Many years of brutal fighting, many lives perishing in that fight made it possible for the world to continue on, especially the U.S., in freedom, prosperity, and purpose.  In our pursuit of freedom, we will have to labor, sacrifice, and even die to the parts of ourselves that want to chain us.  Would you be free?  

Galatians 5.1, Ephesians 6.12, Mark 10.30

L. C. Lynch

     It was August, 1991. I sat on the picnic table under the awning on the front of the trailer I was renting, my roommates .38 in my hand, imagining what it would feel like for a bullet to go through my head. Voices were tornado-ing through my mind, “You’ll never amount to anything.” “You’re screwed up too much.” “You’re a coward, don’t even have the guts to rid this world of your sorry carcass.” “These girls that say they love you don’t know how much of nothing you have to offer.” “You’re too far gone.” They were relentless, day and night.  

     The really sad thing was I agreed. I had seen the look on the face of the man I called Dad, who had just made a visit after an absence of several years. Pity, disgust, abhorrence. I knew I was as lost as anyone could be, but that look, his manner. It confirmed what I knew in my heart to be true. Those voices persisted and crescendoed.

     But there was another voice. As I fingered the gun, I thought how this decision was not like all the other stupid ones I had made. There was no coming back from this one. It was permanent. Fourth generation pentecostal on three sides of my family, and the stepson of a Church of God pastor, I knew there was a devil’s hell on the other side, or was there? Maybe there was nothing. I could welcome that. Tears poured down on the hand holding the instrument of my imminent demise. The voices suddenly went silent. Through my choked sobs I heard, almost audibly, “What about Me? You haven’t given Me a real chance.”

     New Year’s eve night, 1990 going into ‘91, a friend and I had been to a party, drank our fill, got bored and decided to go joy riding. It was just above freezing, blustery and raining. With the toxic potion of Canadian Mist, Boone’s Farm, and Marlboro Red nicotine coursing through our veins, we sped through back country roads in a late 80’s Camaro. Bad Company, Guns n Roses, Poison, and other debauched bands pumped their melodic devastation at unsettling volume through the sound system. We were going nowhere in a consequences-be-damned hurry.

     On the backside of “lit” we rolled through a small town looking for a place to relieve ourselves. A little way out of town we pulled into what looked like a sort of tractor trail, it looked solid enough. We stumbled out, did our business, then discovered it was just an access to the side yard of a house. It was not that solid, and we found we could not back out. Rather than go for help, my friend, Franky, decided to try to shoot down the hill and get enough momentum to carry us to another road access a hundred feet away. No such luck. We were very stuck, wet, and inebriated.  

     Panic began to creep in. We both thought of who we could call for help. Franky had no one. I reached for my smokes in the pocket of my dampening jean jacket and a piece of paper with a number on it came out with the pack. I had forgotten about it, but it had been there for several weeks. It was the number for the residence of L.C. and Annette Lynch, youth pastor at Morlan Park Church of God.  

     For a year or more I had shown up there, intermittently, to youth meetings and sometimes Sunday school. It was a church I had attended as a child. The music lady pastor’s wife invited me to play my trumpet with the music team, and as I liked playing, knew the songs, and was taught to “use it or lose it,” I obliged. I was a holy terror to L.C. in the youth services and Sunday School classes. I used my knowledge of scripture and history like a foil to thrust, perry, and lunge, disrupting the lessons, which were really more like guided conversations. My underlying disdain for all things church was thrust mainly upon him, and he dealt with it so graciously, many times picking me up for church and taking me home. He would listen to my griefs, complaints, and hangups. He never responded in anger or even pressed the authority he so clearly had. He had scribbled his number down on this piece of paper and told me that if I ever got in a spot where I didn’t know who to call, to call him, any time, day or night. And he put his big rough stone mason hand gently on my shoulder, looked me in the eye, and said, “I mean it, Aubrey, day or night.” I knew he meant it.

   Franky and I walked into town and found a pay phone and made the call. It was two-thirty a.m. L.C. answered, I told him of our plight, expecting a negative reaction or a lecture. He just said, “Alright. I know the spot. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” His arrival was concurrent with ours, and we quickly got to work pulling the car out of the muck and back onto the road. No sooner was that accomplished than a couple of town policemen rolled in. Franky and I looked at each other knowingly. We were dead caught.

     Before the lawmen stopped, L.C. directed me into the cab of his truck, and continued unhooking the car from the wench with Franky. My view of the interactions was limited, but I saw what I could see in the side view mirrors. L.C. was talking to the cops. Franky, who had practiced doing sobriety checks while in the cups, was performing beautifully. I do not know what was said, but I saw the cops talking and smiling with L.C. Strange. Then they shook hands with L.C. as Franky got into the Camaro. L.C. climbed into the truck. By this time early morning was rolling in, light rain still falling. I directed L.C. to my abode, Franky following in the Camaro. Otherwise it was quiet in the cab.  

     I kept my head down, expecting the explosion of grief and disgust at any second. Nothing. Not a word until he stopped in front of my place. Then he turned to me and said, “Hey, you guys have work in a few hours, so get some rest. We’ll talk about this later.” I thanked him rather profusely, climbed out with big eyes, and met Franky at the door going in.

     Franky was grinning. “Dude, they knew him. He talked them out of taking us in.” Apparently, L.C. was sort of a football hero in high school in this town, and had used his clout to smooth things. That was sort of a miracle in my mind, and I took a serious mental note. Still, my life experience kept alive the expectation of some sort of retribution. We owed him hugely, no doubts there.  

    The next time I saw L.C. was at church. He just smiled warmly, shook my hand, and asked if I was doing alright, just like any other Sunday. I was tentative, waiting for the hammer to drop. After service I saw him coming my direction and I figured it was coming now. Instead, he asked me if I’d be interested in going to Winterfest in Gatlinburg with the youth group at the end of the month. I told him I didn’t have the funds. He just smiled, and said, “I got you. And I’ll give you some spending cash while you’re there. You don’t have to pay me back. Let me do this.” I was so bumfuzzled all I could do was nod and say OK.

     Nothing really amazing happened at Winterfest, except that I was on my best behavior for the first time, probably in my life. Nothing changed in my life. I worked, I drank, I partied like I always had. But a seed had been planted with much trouble on L.C.’s account. The demons I had been fighting with seemed to up their game. I remember a time in those months between New Years and sitting on that porch when I lay in my bed thinking life was always going to be like this, depressing. I felt like nothing would ever change. I felt locked into this trip to nowhere.  

“You haven’t given me a real chance.” For the first time since I did not know when, the hateful voices had ceased. It was like I was in a rabid storm and it just stopped. My thoughts went back to the events of that cold rainy New Year’s night. In the middle of my thoughtless raging, the authentic, bald-faced love of Jesus had stepped boldly into the hell of my life, right into the middle of it, in the grace and generosity of a man that didn’t know me, had no claim on me. He was gentle, not harsh. And in a situation where, honestly, he owned me, he made no demands. He did not preach, lecture, or chastise me in any way. Just the opposite happened with his selfless gesture of an invitation to a weekend away from my drudgery. This, I thought, was the love I had been hearing about for twenty one years, but never had really seen until then. This was the "something to believe in” - words from Brett Michaels of the band Poison, and it found me despite my efforts to elude it. Jesus chased me. Jesus found me. Jesus would not let me go. It was not a Church of God thing or any kind of religious thing. It was the pure love of the One Who gave everything to redeem us in the shape of a big ol’ stone mason named L.C. Lynch.

   The next day was Sunday, and I walked into the church about the time the pastor was doing his welcome and announcements thing. I didn’t stop at the back pew as I usually did. I kept walking laser focused on that altar I had been raised at. Before I reached and fell down on it, the tears of years of hate, anger, hurt, and disappointment began falling, raining. Strong, rough hands rested on my shoulders. The music lady pastor’s wife Jimi began singing and praying. Other people, who maybe thought they were witnessing something very special, if not miraculous, began filling in the spaces between altar and pew, praying, worshipping, and repenting. I cried my face dry as I committed my way not to a ministry, or denomination, but the Christ of humanity.

     That was thirty-four years ago. I found a passion in youth ministry, and in ministry to people with disabilities. I have spoken at youth retreats, at camps for people with disabilities. And L.C. was a pivotal person in my life.  Since then, Jesus has put me in that same place several times. I have been married to the same woman for almost thirty-three years, another miracle. We have raised two amazing sons. I have screwed up from time to time, of course. My righteousness is not mine, but that of Jesus. But through it all, His grace and mercy has gone ahead and followed behind me all the way. If not for a vessel of God that decided to exercise aggressive grace, expelled condemnation, and poured out Jesus’ love, I know my life would be tragically different. God has used many other such vessels of grace to help me along. Looking back, I think you just never know when you might be the very life-line for a drowning soul. 

I Corinthians 1:27-31 NKJV

[27] But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; [28] and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, [29] that no flesh should glory in His presence. [30] But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption— [31] that, as it is written, “He who glories, let him glory in the Lord."

1 Cor 1.27-31 NKJV