Take Me Out To The Ballgame                                                      

by reginald daniel                         

We raided the concession stand, turned on the lights, ate candy, popcorn, and twinkies and drank pop and played baseball at the little league park until midnight. It  was our park. We were having the time of our life. How dare they try to lock us out! We had a plan. And, it worked.


The secret was that we figured out a way to break in and take over. One interesting aspect was that even tho an occasional police car came by and neighbors could easily see that the lights were on, everyone assumed the lights were SUPPOSED to be on. No one called the police. The neighbors did not call the police and the police did not call the police. :)
 
It was a bit tuff to play ball because we were laughing so hard at our sneaky “attack” on the electrical box and the snack attack on all those leftover concessions. We thot we had died and gone to heaven. We were almost delirious over the spoils of our serendipitous endeavor. “Free” fast food and playing baseball forever on a real diamond, instead of in the street.

What we had done was illegal and what you could rightly call sinful. I guess the good side of it was that we were not doing drugs breaking into houses, nor stealing hubcaps.                                     
Does this youthful breaking and entering remind you of anything? Or anyone?
 
What we did is certainly not a holy analogy by any means, but there is an allusion to another event that is quite pure and powerful, indeed.
When Jesus came, He destroyed the bondage and slavery of the devil. He spoiled the principalities and powers of evil. He feasts with His children as we bask in the light. The gigantic fellowship banquet has not started but the appetizers are startlingly scrumptious. Jesus does not simply serve food and provide light. He IS food and light.

Local tax money and donations ultimately paid for our stolen food and electricity at the ball park. Our enjoyment was quite real but short-lived. Jesus paid for our banquet with His blood. And the effects are forever. He had a plan and it worked. The law and onlookers cannot stop the party. Get into the game.    wreg

                            

What A Relief !!!
        by reginald daniel

Melissa Nelson of Fort Dodge, Iowa got fired recently by her employer, Dr. James Knight. While rather disconcerting to Melissa, it has been such a blessing to me. This oddity has brought drastic psychological relief to me. 

Let me explain. Melissa was fired for being too attractive to Dr. Knight, a long time Fort Dodge dentist. The oddity factor kicks in because Melissa has worked for the good doctor for 10 years. This does not speak too well for Dr. Knight. Would you want a doctor analyzing your molars and root canals in a few moments time when it took him 10 years to discover that Melissa was just too pretty?

So, what does all this mean to me? Well, thine truly has been looking for a job. It is sorta weird, because most all of the job searching is done on the internet. I never get to talk to a person. No interviews, no face time whatsoever. And then there are other factors. For example, I am a senior citizen, white male. Tonz of prejudice out there! 

I had begun to think that the reason it is so tuff to get a job is my age, gender, and technologically-challenged liabilities. But, alas, thanks to Melissa's good looks and the slow dentist's discovery, I am off the hook.

Let's face it. I am just too good looking to get a good job. :)

wreg     

God, Grannie, & the Grandson

reginald daniel

Susannah Wesley had a peculiar prayer closet. Her most frequent prayer place was sitting up with her apron pulled up over her head. With so many children and no alternative privacy, she simply retreated to the under-the-apron-sanctuary. And the kids learned not to disturb her during her quiet hour with God.

Moses and Elijah both prayed on mountain tops, Peter prayed on the housetop, Jonah prayed in the belly of a whale, Stephen prayed under a shower of rocks that were thrown to kill him, and Jesus prayed on a cross.

An electrician was performing some work in a church office while three preachers were discussing the subject of prayer. As he worked, he overheard them speaking about the proper physical posture for effective prayer.

"I believe that kneeling is the best posture for prayer," said the first clergyman.

The second disagreed, "No. I have found that standing upright with my arms and hands stretched up to heaven is the best posture to assume for prayer."

The third minister took issue with them both. "I think you are both wrong. I feel my prayers are getting through best when I lie prostrate on the floor."

At this point the electrician could not restrain himself any longer, "Fellows, the hardest, most earnest praying I've ever done was when I was hanging upside down from a telephone pole." God looks at the condition of the heart, not the place nor position of the body.

A certain Grannie used to go into the bathroom and sit on the "throne" as her chair and place of connection with the throne of Almighty God. Makes a lot of sense. Quiet, private, and disturbed only by an occasional sheer necessity.

The ole Grannie in this story did not realize that sometimes another family member would overhear her worship and intercession.

One of the over hearers was one of Grannie's grandsons. When Grannie thought no one was home or listening, she left the prayer room door open. Thus, the open door to her throne room and God's drew both intentional and accidental earfuls.

Grannie's young grandson would hear her worship and also hear her call names to God. One of the names she called was her grandson's name. I have interviewed the grandson. He says it was the single most impactful prayer event in his entire life. He said no other prayers affected him like those of Grannie's in her own special prayer closet.

As a matter of fact, when the grandson was 16 years old, and under tremendous conviction to get right with God, he actually knelt in Grannie's throne room and called on God. Without even thinking that this was Grannie's prayer place, the grandson simply asked for mercy. He did not turn his life over to God that night, but he prayed that God would not let him die nor the rapture happen until he got into a right relationship with Him. The grandson soon surrendered his heart to the Lord. Sorta gave new meaning to "the throne of mercy".

I am positive about the facts of this story. For you see, I am that grandson.

Thanks, Grannie. And God. wreggy

A Song at Walmart
by reg daniel

I hum and sing out loud. At home and in public. I know parts of hundreds and hundreds of songs. Ok, not all the songs are gospel, but most are. I do this to bless me and God.

Humming and singing out loud is not only a communication between God and me, I use it as a subtle way to witness. Amazing sometimes how folks listen to part of "Amazing Grace", "Oh, Happy Day", "Jesus Loves Me" etc. What choice do they have if their ears are fairly close to my dispersing mouth and vocal chords?

A few nights ago I was standing in line at the Walmart pharmacy to get 90 tablets of lisinopril to help tame my high blood pressure. As I stood 4 1/2" behind the third person in line, I quietly launched into Dottie Rambo's "He Looked Beyond My Fault". It was very low volume but rather distinct and in the perfect key for me. I watched for signs of life in the woman in front of me. She did not flinch, squirm, tap her foot, sing with me, stare me down, nor ask me to be quiet. She simply stood there like a bored manikin, staring straight ahead, waiting to hear "# 47". I wondered if she were taking a nap or just tuning me out. We were both in line long enough for me to sing the whole song.

Just as I was thanking God that I could worship Him and enjoy the song, regardless of anyone else's response, the woman responded. I was on the verge of checking her pulse or trying to give her CPR when the stranger turned around, flashed a sweet smile and with tears in her eyes, said,"That is my favorite song."

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!

(Or is it huuummmmmmmmm?)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkWg3L_K1F8&feature=player_embedded

Remembering The Refuge Barn

by reg daniel

My mother told about the exciting times of the Mississippi River floods of yesteryear. No warnings. A few levees here and there. Neighbors helping neighbors. Getting around by boat. Crops ruined for a year. No food stamps---and not much food.

Mother and her family, like gobs of Arkansas folks, were poor as church mice in those days. Mother's family had one of those in-disguise-blessings. It was the blessing of high ground. As a matter of fact, they had the highest ground in the area. At the pinnacle of high ground was an old barn.

So when those long-ago floods hit their stride, all the neighbors and their animals made their way to the high ground barn. And there they all lived for several days. Since mother's house was on a lower elevation than the barn, they, too, had to join the barn camp out.

Well, it was not exactly a camp out. At least not a planned camp out. Not much space, no video games, no electricity, and no deodorant. Smelly animals and smelly people.

Like the rest of the kids, mother enjoyed chasing chickens, trying to milk the cows, and sleeping on hay. It seems to have never crossed their minds that if the rain kept up, they would wind up on top of the barn, instead of in it.

Mother was not real big on plain ole vanilla adventure, but she loved those almost arky experiences of her childhood. And I loved hearing about those episodes.

A few lessons from the high ground barn have wafted their way into my plain vanilla mind. 1. Difficult times often cause people to pull together. 2. Even the poor have something to offer. 3. You can endure tuff times when you must. 4. We all need a refuge sometime. 5. The Refuge you need is not a barn with a sheep in it, but is rather the Shepherd Himself.

I wrote this with hopes that you get something from it. And to remember mother. She died one day before Edith's birthday, 2009.

Blessings, wreg

P.S. May you receive some blessings that are not in disguise.

Sometimes When It Rains

Yesterday. June 16.

Yesterday she would have been 63. Shackled. Limited. Struggling. Working. Worrying. Wondering. Waiting.

Instead, she is waltzing and soaking in the awe.

luv wreg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4dfghJNTDI