Tag: Memories

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My Most Meaningful Christmas

When I reflect back on my life, many occasions stand out as special events. Eleven memories are: my wedding day; the day I joined a Gospel quartet as a teenager; each day of the birth of our five kids; the day I dropped dad’s prized notebook into the San Diego Harbor; the day dad returned from a 13-month deployment; the first time I preached over the radio; and the day, when playing hide-n-seek, I backed into a cactus plant. (I won’t tell you how badly that hurt!)

When I consider my most meaningful Christmas Day before marriage, I have to pause and go through my life – location-by-location. In the 20 years between my birth and marriage, we lived in 9 different places (10 if we include the college campus), and my childhood memories are in those 10 mental compartments. As an adult married for 57 years – and counting to the same, wonderful, precious Carol – we lived in 17 different locations – so far.

Reflecting on my childhood, dad sometimes took us on Saturday afternoon family walks through El Cajon, California. We walked past Foster’s Freeze ice cream store, and each of us got an ice cream cone. They cost a nickel back then. We walked to the other end of town, stopping at the 5, 10, & 15-cent store for a coke. They cost a dime. We then crossed the highway, and walked back home, stopping first by the Ford dealership to look at new cars. Looking didn’t cost anything. As children, we thought it must have been a 5-mile walk. But the walks were probably around two miles at the most and were deeply enjoyable times with mom and dad.

Whenever I got into a fuss with any of my five sisters, I always went to dad for consolation. He didn’t arbitrarily take my side in the fuss, but he helped me understand life. I felt important when I was with my dad.

But then, the navy sent dad overseas for 13 months, and I felt all alone. I plodded along, but life was hollow for me. I hate to admit it, but I cried often. Not realizing it, I became belligerent at times to mom. It wasn’t intentional, but I was a kid, and hurting. However, that doesn’t excuse me, and I eventually grew up and asked both mom and the Lord to forgive me.

Then Dad Returned Home! And I became happy again. We had two Christmases that year. When dad returned in the summer of 1957 and gave all of us gifts, we claimed that as an extra Christmas. Then we celebrated the regular Christmas in December. That Christmas was my most meaningful childhood Christmas.

But Joy still comes in the morning. That’s the first line in the chorus of the song, Alive & Breathing, by Matt Maher.

Dad helped pick out the tree. Dad brought out the special gifts he had purchased for us overseas but had concealed them in his closet. We never suspected he had them. Dad spent the whole day with us. Dad, my brothers, and I tossed the football. We played catch with a baseball. Dad had target-practice with me with my new Daisy B-B Gun. Many of us played Monopoly. Dad won. We had root-beer floats. All in all, I was in heaven-on-earth! Life wasn’t perfect, but my daddy was home! And that was my most meaningful Christmas as a child.

What about you? Think back in time. Our memory is our Time Travel Machine. Relax and take time to reflect on your life. What events or relationship made Christmas meaningful to you, and when was that? It can be either when you were a child or an adult. Please take time to jot down some notes and think about the good times in your life. Share those good memories with family and friends.

But there’s another story for a lot of people. Many of you might not have good or enjoyable memories. Life has been hard. Rejection has been inscribed across the recesses of your mind. Sometimes you might think of ending it all. I would like you, also, to write some of those painful memories on paper. Write down the details of how you’ve been hurt. Then I want you to talk with God about it. Tell Him how difficult your life has been. Pour out your heart and feelings to Him. He understands. Why?

Jesus was born into this corrupt, hell-bent world to show us a better way to live. His purpose was to take the penalty of our own sin and selfishness so that we could be healed and restored to Father God. Jesus’ plan is for us to live with Him where sin, selfishness, and sorrow does not exist. It’s called Heaven.

God commissioned people to jot down His thoughts to give us. Those notes are the Bible. You can learn to know Jesus by reading Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but especially the Gospel of John. Leaving heaven, He came to be born as a human, like us. But unlike you and me, Jesus was never selfish. As a human, He didn’t search for fulfillment to make His life worthwhile. Instead, He came to give Himself in order to make our lives worthwhile. He gave His life on the cross to re-establish eternal life for us. In His 33 years on earth prior to His crucifixion, He showed us how to live, how to love, and how to give.

Also unlike you and me, Jesus raised back to life to confirm that He is, indeed, God, and to reaffirm His love for us.

I encourage you this Christmas season to think less of stuff, more of others, and especially, more of Jesus. He wasn’t born in December, but this celebration is still all about Him. Stuff will wear out; but if you choose to live for Jesus Christ, our Savior, your relationship with Him will last forever.

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

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Memories on Memorial Day

May 29, 2023 is Memorial Day. Memorial Day is a day of honor and remembrance. It’s a day when we reflect on the sacrifices our citizens in uniform have made to protect the liberties we cherish here in the United States.

However, it was Almighty God who helped us to establish this nation. It was He who helped our founding fathers develop and write the national documents that state our freedoms and teach us to defend them. And it is God who inspired men to write the Holy Scriptures that teach us about duty, honor, integrity, and commitment.

As Americans, we have a solemn obligation to pray for and to support our troops to the best of our ability because they are the ones on the front lines of battle who enable us to enjoy the opportunities and freedoms we often take for granted.

Not only on Memorial Day, but every day we should remember the sacrifices of our service members and honor the memory of those who perished in the fight for freedom.

Although my father didn’t die in battle, I’m thinking of him right now. He was stationed on the USS Yorktown, CV-5. On May 4-8, 1942, the Yorktown was in the Battle of the Coral Sea just northeast of Australia. A 500-pound armor-piercing bomb plunged through the ship and exploded adjacent to my father’s radio room, but the steel wall shielded dad from death. Although we lost the aircraft carrier USS Lexington, CV-2, the Battle of the Coral Sea was the first naval engagement the Japanese didn’t win.

When the damaged Yorktown limped into Pearl Harbor, Captain Elliott Buckmaster requested six months for major repairs, but Admiral Chester Nimitz knew what was brewing near Midway Island and gave Captain Buckmaster only 72 hours.

The Japanese fleet, advancing to attack Midway, included four attack carriers, two battleships, three cruisers, nine destroyers, twenty-eight submarines, and eight refueling tankers. Altogether, they could have had about 180 ships assembled for the operation. This was not some spur-of-the-moment impulse; rather it was a strategic, well-planned full-scale attack – as was the attack on Pearl Harbor. We might have had about 55 ships in the area to counter the assault.

The Fighting Lady (Yorktown) did set sail in three days. As the ship approached Midway, a paralyzing fear gripped dad. He couldn’t shake it off. Finally, he prayed, “Lord, I’m saved and I know it. If I must die, I must. It’s okay with me. Only one thing I ask of You: take this numbing fear out of my heart and mind so I can do my duty. Amen.” (Dead in the Water, USS Yorktown at Midway; page 92.)

Dad, an intra-ship radioman and musician, said the fear lifted immediately. The change was so dramatic that he thought someone had entered the room. Then Psalm 91:7 came to mind – “A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.” Dad said he experienced no heavy fear throughout the rest of the war.

The Japanese intended to use Midway Island as a base of operations from which to finish the job they started at Pearl Harbor, and Admiral Nagumo betrayed his ignorance of Americans by saying, “The enemy [America] lacks the will to fight.” But US intelligence broke the Japanese code and Admirals Nimitz and Spruance devised a plan similar to an old western ambush and caught Admirals Yamamoto and Nagumo off guard. Japan learned about our will to fight when they lost the same four aircraft carriers they used in attacking Pearl Harbor. They also lost two heavy cruisers, three destroyers, and 275 planes. This battle ended Japanese naval superiority in the Pacific. We lost one carrier (the USS Yorktown), one destroyer (the USS Hammann), and 150 planes.

Although the USS Yorktown, CV-5, sank on June 7, my father survived the battle. After the war, dad attended college and seminary, and reentered the US Navy for another 20 years, but this time as a Chaplain. Retiring with the rank of Captain, he said the eight years as an enlisted man and the wartime experiences in World War II helped prepare him for what lay ahead in life.

We should not be afraid of negative circumstances in life; rather we should prayerfully face them and learn from them. If we purpose to live to honor Jesus Christ, we should remember His words in Hebrews 13:5 – I will never leave you nor forsake you.

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In Case You’re Interested ….

There are three books on Amazon that I wrote, and one that five of my siblings and I wrote. I’ll tell you about them in a minute, but first I need to tell you where to find them. Go to Amazon.com: S. Eugene Linzey: Books, Biography, Blog, Audiobooks, Kindle and scroll down to see them. All four are treasure-troves of information, insight, and good reading. You can order either print copies or kindle versions – or both.

I’d been taught that all Christians go to heaven. But how was a Christian supposed to live while on earth? I didn’t see much difference in many people’s lives when they became a Christian or joined a church. On Sundays, most people talked about the Lord, sang, bowed heads in prayer, listened to the pastor – most of them – but something was missing.

Why would the Church of Jesus Christ—including all divisions and denominations–need a charter? Simply because I know many Christians who don’t seem to understand the Faith they claim to believe. Going to church and joining it is not the same as understanding the faith.

The Church, including each member of it, needs to keep in mind that our goal in life is not merely to get to heaven. Our goal in life, both on earth and in heaven, is to be a member of Jesus’ team and grow the Kingdom of God throughout eternity. It is by becoming an adopted child of God, and growing into a mature spokesman for God, that we can fully take our place in the Kingdom. That is why we need to know and understand the teaching in Matthew 5:1-12.

This book, Charter of the Christian Faith, addresses this topic.

Absolute truth is something that is true at all times, in all places, for all people, and in all circumstances. For example, there are no round squares, and there are no triangular circles. We may change the descriptive terms, but that won’t change the facts. On the other hand, temporal truth changes with the passage of time. As an example, I am temporarily not hungry. That is true. But tomorrow, I will be hungry. That also is also true.


But why are so many people on both sides of all fences worked up about the differences in viewpoint? A difference in viewpoint can be healthy as long as we don’t fight over them. To use a verse from Isaiah 1:18, “Come, let us reason together.” However, in reasoning or discussing our viewpoints, we must have a standard against which to measure truth. That’s the crux of the matter. The problem is that too many people on both sides of many fences make mistakes.


Our worldview is the basis for how we live: how we think, how we act, how we respond, what we believe, and how we worship. But a worldview produced with limited input produces a restricted or narrow outlook. I endeavor to write about a variety of topics which, over time, can enable the reader to expand his or her horizons. A person doesn’t even need to agree with me, but reading what I write gets him or her to think; and that is the key to maturing both mentally and spiritually. These are my thoughts, my reflections on life, my beliefs. Read them and compare them with your worldview.

Over the years, we have seen a lot of change in the church. We have seen it change from the big central church of downtown in the 1950s to the outlying mega-church in the 1980s. We have seen hippies who accepted Christ in the Jesus Movement of the 1970s become yuppies in the 1990s. We’ve seen a major shift from mainline denominations to inter- and non-denominational organizations. But our desire through it all has been to teach people both in and out of the church to develop a relationship with Christ. Although we believe that church involvement is necessary, it is the personal relationship with Jesus Christ that will see us through both the problems and the blessings of life.

The Bible is a book about civilization, government, war, and intrigue. It contains drama, history, culture, and a lot more. However, it is primarily a book about faith and spirituality. This book was written to answer many questions to help people sift through the sands of time to gain a better understanding of the Word of God.

This book was written by three brothers and three sisters (six siblings in all) who realized after their parents had passed away, that the family was divided into factions. They also admitted there was much they didn’t know about each other, and they decided to do something about it.


The memories they wrote about prompted spontaneous email conversations and phone calls among the siblings. They found themselves saying things like, “I didn’t know you felt that way!” Or, “I never knew that!” Or even, “Me too!” They started learning about one another and seeing each other in a whole new light, and the conversations that occurred every week became highly therapeutic. They accepted one another, and in the process, learned to love each other more deeply than any of them had ever experienced.


Join them on a journey that spans the past 70+ years, as they tell you the stories of family, faith, and friendship. This is a memoir about love and laughter, anger and attitude, groaning and growing. In many ways, it is a story about coming of age.


“Whether you are a family member, a distant relative, a neighbor, friend, or even a complete stranger, we invite you to join us on this journey as we share our lives with you. We hope you enjoy the stories. Welcome to the family.”

Find these books and order them on Amazon.com: S. Eugene Linzey: Books, Biography, Blog, Audiobooks, Kindle.

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Down Memory Lane (pt.2)

For a couple of years, my brother, Paul, and I’ve been talking about preserving family memories. Our parents and parents-in-law are gone, two of our siblings are gone, and we don’t know what the future holds. Every time someone leaves this life, an encyclopedia of information evaporates into thin air.

How many times have you heard, or even said, “I didn’t really know him”? How many times have you thought, “How would he respond in this situation?” Or, “I know we grew up together, but what happened that gave her a different outlook on life than I have?”

It was time to start documenting Linzey family memories!

To begin, two major factors had to be considered.

1) Because everyone is so busy, the process must be simple. And

2) Because writing is seen as a chore, the process must be enjoyable.

The brainstorming session began.

Proverbs 17:22 informs us that a cheerful disposition (“a merry heart”) is good medicine to the body, but discouragement causes our health to deteriorate (“dries up the bones”).

We could let each sibling take turns choosing a topic to write about, but people’s minds sometimes go blank. Several of our siblings asked, “How do we choose a topic?” So Paul chose the Rememory Card® system. (Look up “Rememory Cards” on the web.) Nevertheless, with or without cards, here is the simple process Paul wrote.

  1. Decide how many months you would like the project to continue.
  2. Each week, take turns selecting a writing prompt and those joining the fun will write a memory on that topic. Write from a half to 2 pages per memory. Paul and I decided on one memory per week, but you can choose your own time cycle. We realized that if we waited too long, we’d lose the enjoyment and the momentum.
  3. Write whatever you want. Nobody will censor your language or stories.
  4. There is no pressure or mandate to write about every topic selected. If you don’t want to write about something, skip it.
  5. You may write about anyone in the family. Your stories don’t have to be only about yourself, however, you should be considerate of others’ feelings when writing about your family.
  6. You can draw from your whole history. Consider your whole childhood as well as your adult interaction with the family.
  7. This is a memoir project. Memory is not always accurate. In fact, it’s been demonstrated that nobody remembers perfectly. Also, we tend to interpret as we remember. We subconsciously fill in the blanks, expand, and erase some aspects of our experiences. So, we don’t challenge anyone’s memory. Memory is specific to the individual.
  8. Every family has both good and bad, painful and pleasant, positive and negative, funny and serious memories. Try to get your stories to reflect a balance and a blend of these dynamics.
  9. Not everybody will remember what you remember, so it might be a good idea to identify the year, the location, and the writer’s name after each person’s story.
  10. It’s OK if your stories focus on yourself, but, if possible, find a way to bring at least one other family member into the anecdote.
  11. This endeavor can create priceless documentation of your family history that your grandkids and great grandkids might never know otherwise.
  12. Simply take turns choosing a topic, gather the stories, and have someone compile them. If the family agrees, you may find a publishing company (expensive traditional or affordable self-publishing company) to format it and turn it into a family treasure.
  13. Keep in mind that this memory project is for your own benefit as well as for the rest of the family. And if you get brave, as my family might, you can have it published for the general public.

Our family started in January and will complete it in October. With six of us writing, we’ll have well-over 400 pages to edit and format into a family treasure.

There are ten kids in our family, with fifteen years between the oldest and youngest. Knowing that fact alone, you may understand why there’s a lot about each other that we don’t know – even coming out of the same family, same church, and same basic culture.

The fact is, we are all different and we all interpret life differently. But all six of us thoroughly enjoyed it, and, as a side benefit, this project has drawn us all closer than we’ve ever been before.

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Down Memory Lane (pt.1)

In the summer of 2013, Carol and I were in Southern California when I learned that one of my cousin’s sons had died. Attending the graveside funeral, two other cousins and I began talking about family memories. The statement that caught my attention was, “When a person dies, all his or her memories are sealed in the coffin, never to be recovered – unless they were documented.”

Unless they were documented kept ringing through the corridors of my mind.

Documented how? When? In what circumstances?

We all know that nothing happens unless it is planned. Even accidents are planned out of ignorance by those who refuse to take safety precautions.

My cousins and I began talking about generating a family writing project, and the outcome could be a book of family memories. It could generate family cohesiveness. (We needed it!) We especially wanted to get memories from our surviving parents written down prior to their departure from this life. The farther back we can go, the stronger our family foundation will be. Our grandparents were already gone and our fathers (who were brothers) were gone. But our mothers were still here, and perhaps we could get the writing ball rolling. They could fill in memories of their husbands – our fathers.

Well, that didn’t happen. The only memories from our parents that we were able to compile was from their private writings in letters and diaries. And that wasn’t much.

When one of the cousins asked why we need to get memories written and what difference it would make, all I could say was, “For you, it wouldn’t make much difference because you are not interested in your past. And it infers that you aren’t interested in teaching your kids about their past. But enquiring minds want to know.” He openly agreed that it doesn’t matter to him, but that didn’t hurt our relationship. We still enjoy great camaraderie.

But I’ll answer that question for you folks.

Family history is important. Among other things, it helps to establish personal identity, self-esteem, and helps us understand the direction we’ve chosen to travel in life. Several examples follow.

Both of my parents were musicians, they came from a line of musicians, and my nine siblings and I are musicians. Dad was a chaplain, Mom’s side of the family includes a line of ministers of the Gospel, and nine of us siblings have been in or are in Christian ministry.

Dad was not only humorous, but quite pragmatic. What about the ten of us? All of us are pragmatists, and all but one has a well-developed sense of humor. Yes, we laugh a lot sometimes in the wrong place and at the wrong time. Let me add here, no matter how funny the story might be, try NOT to laugh at a funeral. It is the wrong place and the wrong time.

Everyone has quirks, traits, or habits that are peculiar to them. Why do we have them? Where did we get them? Does it matter?

It does matter for several reasons.

If we are being harassed or pestered about a personality trait, we might want to change. Understanding our past can assist us in making the change. But understanding our past can also strengthen our backbone if we don’t want to change. We just might like who we are!

I’ve been told often, “You’re just like your dad!” At first, I didn’t know how to take that hit. But when I stopped to analyze the situation, I was happy. I like my dad! So I was happy to be “just like him.”

One time I introduced Dad to some of my colleagues in New Mexico. After a few minutes of interaction, one of my friends said, “Chaplain Linzey, you’re just like your son.” Dad and I looked at each other, looked back at my friend, and broke out laughing. When the one who made the comment realized what he just said, he broke out into a big laugh, too.

Proverbs 17:22 informs us that a cheerful disposition (“a merry heart”) is good medicine to the body, but discouragement causes our health to deteriorate (“dries up the bones”).

So, what does that have to do with writing family memories?

Thanks for getting me back on track.

I have nine siblings. Two are in heaven, and two don’t have time to write. But six of us decided to get this family memory project going. I’ll tell you more next week.

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The Cracked Windshield

As we were driving near the Salton Sea in Southern California, a blinding sandstorm lightly sandblasted our windshield. Afterward, when the sunlight hit the windshield at the right angle, or if a car came toward us at a critical angle at night, it created a visual difficulty. But we could still see well enough to drive safely so we didn’t replace it.

But this is a different story.

In October of 2016, a truck about 300 feet ahead of us lofted a rock that landed on our windshield – right in front of Carol. In addition to startling Carol and eliciting a yelp from her, it created a crater in the windshield with five or six cracks radiating outward.

What could I do? There is no need to stop. No sense in getting aggravated, worried, or upset; and the truck driver didn’t do it intentionally. Change lanes if possible, continue on course and take care of it later. But be assured: if not repaired soon, the cracks will grow and the windshield will become what I call “spider-webbed”.

Here’s some background information.

The dashboard was created to prevent mud and horse excrement from “dashing” the legs of the driver and passengers. Dashboards on buggies were originally vertical or at an angle, but lower on the carriage.

Windscreens (early name for windshields) may also have had their beginnings on horse-drawn carriages or buggies. They were made of glass, were mounted on top of the dashboards, and provided protection for the upper body and face.

Since many early cars were manufactured without tops, the windscreen provided some protection from the wind as well as from stuff being splattered by horses and other vehicles. In the US, the windscreen became a shield from the wind as the vehicles began going faster; so it took on the name of windshield.

In a car, the “shelf” between the driver and the windshield kept the title of dashboard, and the windshield could be laid down on the dashboard on dry and non-windy days. But the glass broke easily, so improvements in glass quality and safety were needed.

A process called “tempering” was utilized to make a safer glass, but it was soon replaced by “safety-glass.” Safety-glass is a laminated glass that is made like a sandwich: two layers of tempered glass with a layer of plastic in between.

Today, the major components of windshields or windscreens are silica, soda ash, dolomite, limestone, and cullet. Often potassium oxide and aluminum oxide are added; but silica (sand) comprises well over 60% of the material.

Also, modern windshields can have more than two layers of tempered glass with layers of plastic (usually polyvinyl butyral or ethylene-vinyl acetate) in between. This allows the windshield to be considerably more flexible and more resilient to blows from rocks or other objects.

Because of the flexibility and lamination, when an object hits the windshield, potential damage is usually confined to the outer glass layer. It may still need to be repaired or replaced, but the lamination prevents the glass from shattering.

Back to the cracked windshield.

I called Safelite AutoGlass Company. They said if the break was smaller than a credit card and has three or fewer radiating cracks, the insurance companies will not provide a replacement. Well, the break with cracks was smaller than a card, but it had five or six radiating cracks that I call spider-legs – and they were growing. So we set up an appointment for the next day; and while we shopped at Sears, the car received a new windshield.

Wow! What a joy it is to see super-clearly as we drive throughout the California country-side – and on interstate highways.

Do you know that our spiritual vision can be damaged by bumps in life? Someone can purposely or inadvertently hurl a spiritual stone at us and crack our mental or spiritual “shield”. Then, without the badly-needed protection, we become vulnerable to other dangers. Our damaged vision robs us of wisdom, and our poor reactions make things worse.

What should we do? Safelite AutoGlass cannot help us here; but Almighty God can. Ephesians 6:16 says, “Above all, take the shield of faith which will protect you from all the fiery darts of the wicked.”

Place your faith in Jesus: in Almighty God. He will give you clear vision and help you make correct decisions in life.

So, enjoy life – both the rough and smooth parts – and stay clear of those who would throw things that could hurt you. But if you do get a crack in your shield, turn to God immediately for help. Jesus promised never to leave us or forsake us.

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The Plestiodon

What do you think a plestiodon is? It sounds like it might be a giant dinosaur, and perhaps it’s the topic of the latest archeological find hidden deep in central Africa. Or maybe this giant skeleton was uncovered in a dinosaur graveyard in the hills of Morrison, Cripple Creek, or Cañon City – all in Colorado.

But, you don’t know what a plestiodon is? Neither did I until I looked it up.

It’s not a giant lizard or a dinosaur, and it’s not the focal point of archeology. It’s a little lizard with a bright blue tail. They are also called skinks, which derives from “Scinc” in the Scincidae family.

I saw this lizard one hot summer day when it crawled into the garage to cool off. The problem developed when it crawled onto one of the glue traps I use to reduce the spider, cricket, and beetle populations of the world.

I placed a few drops of WD-40® around its entrapped form. Then, using a twig, I gently lifted its body to allow the oil to dissolve the glue under it, and in a few minutes it was free. But its bright blue tail didn’t make it, and was left wiggling on the glue trap. I placed the reptile in the grass beside the garage. But before it waddled away, it turned and, not moving, looked directly at me for almost a minute. Maybe it was thanking me for saving its life? I don’t know … maybe.

When God designed this critter, He gave it a bright blue tail which can be released in danger. The blue attracts predators; and when they grab it for breakfast, the lizard sheds it and runs for cover. When the tail grows back, it is shorter, and is usually the same color as the rest of the body – but sometimes pink.

08-19-14bThis episode in the garage reminded me of another reptilian visit in New Mexico back in 1993. When it tried to hide, it reminded me that many people think they can hide from God, and I wrote a poem about it.

THE LIZARD

A young lizard came into my shop today;

Left to himself, I thought he’d go away.

But he just stood there looking at me,

Hoping beyond hope that him, I wouldn’t see.

Earlier that day it had been quite warm,

And to open the door would be the norm.

Then the rain began, and I love the sound.

It was then I saw my friend on the ground.

I looked in my shop, but no food was in sight

To give to my friend. But I understood his plight:

It was storming outside and he had discovered

A place of refuge. He knew he’d be covered.

I tried to catch him and take him outside,

But he was too smart and from me he did hide.

“You can’t catch me – you can’t reach under there!”

It was then that I heard my unspoken prayer.

“Lord, am I attempting to hide from You?”

And of course, He answered as if on cue:

“My kids seem to think since they can’t see Me

That I can’t see them; and think they are free.

“I want you to know that I see you today –

At work, at home, at church, and at play.

Go tell My Church that I see them, too.

But oh, how I desire to be in their view!

“If they keep withdrawing themselves from Me,

Whatever they think, they’ll never be free.

Like the lizard, if they don’t want to die,

They must trust in Me; and escape, not to try.”

I searched again to find my small friend.

Then I saw him – heading around the bend!

Using wisdom and stealth, I aimed him outside

Using my right foot as a peculiar guide.

“Lord, unlike this lizard, let me never hide;

Abiding in You may I always confide.

Self-sufficient, I never want to be,

But always believing, and trusting in Thee.

Believe it or not, that episode has stayed with me all these years, and has reminded me to07-29-15b.jpg always be transparent to God and to others. I will never hide my faith in Jesus, and I will never hide who I am in Christ. I want to safely rest in the palm of His hands.

As a Christian, my prayer is summarized in Psalm 19:14 – “Let my words and thoughts be acceptable to you, Lord.”

I pray that the church at large will also live by that Psalm.

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History Ignored is Freedom Lost

Have you ever watched a movie (or DVD) several times and wanted to see it again? My Precious Carol and I watched a film this past week called, “Monumental: In Search of America’s National Treasure,” staring Kirk Cameron. This was the second time I watched it, and I’ll watch it again. If you haven’t seen it, you should. It’s a 90-minute film about America’s beginning.

Because much of our national heritage is not taught in schools, a major portion of our population is ignorant of our history. This film supplies some of the details.

Psalms 78:5-7 says, “The Lord made an agreement with Jacob and gave the teachings to Israel, which he commanded our ancestors to teach to their children. Then their children would know them, even their children not yet born. And they would tell their children. So they would all trust God and would not forget what he had done but would obey his commands.”

I agree with that.

We start with the concept of monuments which are reminders of historical events. God told the Israelites to build monuments about what they accomplished, and about what the Lord did for them. Then they were to use those monuments as tools to teach their children about their past. My own father taught me the importance of history, and said, “If you don’t know where you’ve been, it’s hard to tell where you’re going.” How true.

Kirk Cameron wanted to know what principles the early settlers – Pilgrims – established that the Founding Fathers followed to make the United States of America the most successful example of civil, economic, and religious liberty ever developed in the history of the world.

But America became a moral quagmire because we, as a nation, slowly stopped teaching about God and the truth of our history. We also voted people into office who rejected truth – both Scriptural and historical. And now, since we don’t know where we’ve been, we are on the wrong track. Let me give you several historical facts that are hard to find in schools today.

The Pilgrims left Europe because the Church WAS the State, and the state was persecuting them. Therefore, they established a separation between Church and State. But they didn’t want a godless society; instead, they wanted God-fearing men to run the government, and to guarantee everyone the freedom to worship according to conscience.

I won’t hide the errors and flaws in early American society, but I am telling you their intent.

The_Mayflower_Compact_1620_cph.3g07155The first governmental document in America was the Mayflower Compact. The Pilgrims established this document firmly on the principle that God should be the center of our public life. This guaranteed religious freedom.

The Pilgrims did not abuse the Native Americans. Others did, but the Pilgrims treated the “Indians” as equals.

Civil authority, law, justice, mercy, education, and equality were established firmly on Scripture. That created our foundation for liberty – both civil and religious.

Our early Congress highly approved of Christianity. On January 21, 1781, Robert Aitken asked the new Congress to authorize, and, if possible, even pay for the printing of the King James Version of the Bible in America. Congress wouldn’t fund the project, but here is the approval issued on September 10, 1782:

“Whereupon, Resolved, That the United States in Congress assembled, highly approve the pious and laudable undertaking of Mr. Aitken, as subservient to the interest of religion as well as an instance of the progress of arts in this country … we recommend this edition of the Bible to the inhabitants of the United States, and hereby authorise him to publish this recommendation in the manner he shall think proper.”

In 1783, George Washington wrote a letter commending Aitken for his Bible, known as the “Bible of the American Revolution”.

The founding fathers realized that a nation that is not based on faith in Holy Scripture and Almighty God, and that does not maintain a high moral integrity – both individually and corporately – will ultimately crumble. Therefore, our leaders kept God in our national conscience for a long time. Many WWII war bonds were issued “to preserve freedom of worship”. Our government printed WWII posters showing Hitler driving a sword through the Bible. A current problem is, many in our American Government today would do the same if we let them

We have hundreds of writings from founding fathers who professed faith in Almighty God. But many in our post-modern society want to deprive us of our national, Godly heritage. They don’t know that history ignored is freedom lost.

To maintain our freedoms, we must know our history and reestablish our faith in God.

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London Bridge – Redeemed History

In April of 2015, Carol and I went to California to speak at the annual USS Yorktown Survivor’s Club Reunion. The keynote speaker, Rear Admiral Mac McClaughlin, spoke at our banquet on the USS Midway in San Diego Harbor.

Spending a night in Kingman, Arizona, Carol said, “In 50 miles we’ll get to Arizona Highway 95. Driving south on 95, it is only about 25 miles to Lake Havasu and the London Bridge, and we haven’t seen the London Bridge for about 40 years. Let’s go see it.”

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

Some travelers say the scenery in that part of the country is desolate, hot, and dry. Well, it may be hot and dry in the summer, but I’m not sure it’s desolate: you should see the numerous animals inhabiting the land. And it is beautiful! Between Kingman and the southern tip of the Lake, we took over 200 pictures.

Does the bridge look any different from 40 years ago? It is the same, but the town has certainly grown around it.

But the bridge! Straight from London, it is redeemed history! When you look at the bridge you are looking at part of London in 1831AD. But you see the Stars and Stripes and the British Jack flying alternately on poles on the bridge because it is also now part of American history.

The first bridge over the Thames (pronounced Tĕmz) was of wood construction probably built by the Romans near the village of Londinium prior to Jesus’ time. Destroyed and rebuild numerous times, Henry II chose Peter of Colechurch to oversee the reconstruction of the bridge, but this time it would be a substantial structure. Finished in 1163, it was the last wooden London Bridge. Lasting for over 600 years, it was considered a “wonder of the world.”

But it, too, eventually had to be replaced. John Rennie and his son oversaw the work, and you might say it was a “rock-solid structure” because this bridge, completed in 1831, was made of stone. The bridge weighed about 130,000 tons. The USS Ronald Reagan, a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, has a displacement of over 103,000 tons, so you get an idea of the bridge’s weight.

However, not having a stable foundation, the bridge sank about one-fourth inch annually. Another problem: it wasn’t made to withstand the heavy traffic of modern society. By 1924, the east side had sunk about four inches lower than the west side. The bridge had become a concern to the community, and they considered tearing it down.

But someone had a novel idea: Council member Ivan Luckin suggested selling the bridge. The rest of the London City Council thought he was crazy! However, with no other viable idea forth-coming, they decided to look for a buyer. Surprisingly, Robert P. McCulloch was interested.

McCulloch is the founder of Lake Havasu City, Arizona – a retirement and real estate development project on the east shore of Lake Havasu. He bought the bridge in 1964 for $2,460,000 as a tourist attraction to his city. But it was a chore getting it to Arizona. He couldn’t just pick it up by helicopter and haul it over. In time, they developed a plan.

The stones of the bridge were individually numbered as the bridge was disassembled, and the plan for reassembly was simultaneously drawn up. The stones were shipped through the Panama Canal to California, then hauled by truck to Lake Havasu, Arizona. The Sundt Construction Company laboriously reassembled it, but modified the plan and reassembly procedure to meet current safety code for bridges. Therefore, the bridge is hollow with substantial steel reinforcement, and was fully reassembled in 1971. The weight of the modified bridge is about 30,000 tons.

The lamp posts on the bridge were made from Napoleon Bonaparte’s cannons, and the bridge has been in two American movies (“Day Of The Wolves” and “Bridge Across Time”). And, of course, it is the world’s largest antique.

In 1960, the bridge was considered useless, and was to be destroyed. But in 1964 Robert McCulluch redeemed it and made it a magnificent, important part of his plan in Lake Havasu.

Jesus did the same for you and me. Having sunk in the muck and mire of sin, mankind had become useless to God. But God, in the person of Jesus Christ, died on the cross for us and provided redemption for “whosoever will.” All that’s required of us is to stop living to please ourselves, ask God to forgive us for our sin and selfishness, live for Jesus Christ, honor God with our whole life, and help others.

And we will become an important part of God’s magnificent, eternal plan.

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The Salton Sea

As we were driving south along the Colorado River, Carol asked, “Did you know we won’t be far from the Salton Sea?”

“Are you kidding!” I exclaimed. “How far is it?”

“Driving west on I-10, if we turn south on Highway 86, it’s about 20 miles, or so.”

“I am a Californian. I grew up in El Cajon in San Diego County, and I’ve never been to the Salton Sea!” I exclaimed. “One time when I was in seventh grade, dad preached in Brawley near the Sea, and I knew it was over a hundred miles away. Back in the mid-1950s that was a long distance. None of us went with him because we were needed in our home church. But now I want to complete my California childhood and visit the Salton Sea. By the way, how far is the lake from San Diego?”

DSCN0333“If you get there by driving on the freeways through Riverside, it is about 182 miles; and if you go through the mountains through Julian, it is about 138 miles. But if you get there by helicopter, it is only about 70 miles.”

“Let’s go!” So we did – but not by helicopter.

Several thousand years ago (after the flood in Noah’s time) the lake was approximately 105 miles long and 300 feet deep. That lake had long-since dried up, as did the lake in Death Valley. The area is called the Salton Sink which is in a low area of the Salton Trough, and is often referred to as the Colorado Desert due to its proximity to the Colorado River. The lowest spot is 277 feet below sea level.

Throughout the centuries, the area has alternately been a shallow lake and dry desert plain. Heavy rains and snow runoff from the Sierra Nevada Mountains periodically flooded the Salton Sink, and one of the worst storms was in 1862 when the area was again submerged, creating a lake 60 miles long and 30 miles wide. That 1862 storm wreaked havoc in the entire western third of our country.

The present lake was formed in 1905 when engineers with the California Development Company were trying to increase water flow from the Colorado River into the valley for farming. But the powerful river overcame their barriers, gouged deep channels into the land, and poured into the Salton Sink basin for eighteen months. The engineers were finally able to stop the flow in 1907. Interestingly, the Salton Sea sits squarely on a portion of the San Andreas Fault.

We turned south on Highway 86. Carol took many pictures of palm tree groves, animals, low-flying military jets, and cloud formations. Looking south, we could see in the distance what looked like a rain squall forming, so we decided not to spend too much time at the lake.

The lake is currently about thirty-five miles long and fifteen miles wide. The surface is 228 feet below sea level, and the deepest part of the lake is about 49 feet deep. But this varies annually depending on rain and snow melt.

We were surprised at what we found. We saw many sand-covered streets and vacated houses with broken windows. We did see a few sandy residential areas with very small town centers, but the thriving resort and retirement communities I had read about years ago seemed to be non-existent. The lake had been receding in the past several decades but more rapidly during the recent California drought. The badly-receding shoreline was salt-encrusted, and badly deteriorated boats were rotting in the salty sand.

After stopping at four locations, I had seen enough. I wished I had seen the Salton Sea fifty-seven years earlier.

Then we saw what we thought was a rain squall. Wrong! It was full-blown sand-storm! We had a choice: either we could continue south forty miles in the midst of the length of the storm to Brawley, or drive across the storm for twelve miles. Either way, we would drive slowly for we couldn’t see very well more than 75 feet ahead of us. We chose the shorter hazard.

After ten minutes of a sandy blizzard, we were out of it; we could see blue skies, and the beautiful mountains ahead … all through a pitted windshield.

But that sand-storm reminded me of something else. If we patiently “weather the storms of life” without panicking, keeping our faith and trust in God, the Lord will bring us through to the “blue skies” on the other side; and we can see life more clearly.