My Son

MY SON
God gave my son to me:
Christ died for him, and he should be
A man for Christ. He is his own,
And God's and man's: not mine alone.
He was not mine to "give." He gave
Himself that he might help save
All that a Christian should revere,
All that enlightened men hold dear.

"To feed the guns!" O torpid soul!
Awake, and see life as a whole,
When freedom, honor, justice, right,
Were threatened by the despot's might;
With heart aflame and soul alight
He bravely went for God to fight
Against base savages, whose pride
The laws of God and man defied,
Who slew the mother and child,
Who maidens pure and sweet defiled;
He did not go "to feed the guns."
He went to save from ruthless Huns
His home and country, and to be
A guardian of democracy.

"What if he does not come?" you say;
Ah well, my sky would be more gray,
But through the clouds the sun would shine
And vital memories be mine.
God's test of manhood is, I know,
Not "Will he come?" but "Did he go?"
My son well knew that he might die.
And yet he went with purpose high,
To fight for peace, and overthrow
The plans of Christ's relentless foe.
He dreaded not the battle field;
He went to make fierce vandals yield.
If he comes not again to me
I shall be sad; but not that he
Went like a man – a hero true –
His part unselfishly to do.

My heart will feel exultant pride
That for humanity he died.


"Forgotten grave!" The selfish plea
Awakes no deep response in me.
For, though his grave I may not see,
My boy will ne'er forgotten be,
My real son can never die;'
Tis his body that may lie
In foreign land, and I shall keep
Remembrance food, forever, deep
Within my heart of my true son
Because of triumphs that he won,
It matters not where anyone
May lie and sleep when work is done.
It matters not where some men live,
If my dear son his life must give.
Hosannas I will sing for him,
E'en though my eyes with tears be dim.
And when the war is over, when
His gallant comrades come again
I'll cheer them as they're marching by,
Rejoicing that they did not die.
And when his vacant place I see
My heart will bound with joy that he
Was mine so long-my fair young son,
And cheer for him whose work is done.


Written by James D. Hughes, WW1

www.iwvpa.net/hughesjd/

A Fowl Occurence

First you must know that I despise birds. Their beady round eyes, their unsanitary feathers, and their unnecessary flapping all contribute to an animal that I don’t like and am slightly afraid of.

When I was asked to house-sit recently, I agreed with no qualms, though I knew that part of my responsibilities would be caring for the chickens. Our family having chickens, I have learned that most of the time these birds run from people unless food is coming. I did not then realize that roosters are completely different from hens.

The first morning that I was house-sitting, I walked to the chicken pen, unthinking, in my sparkly flip-flops (when I told this story at home, everyone reminded me how foolish that was, and I told them that I now know that from experience). I opened the gate, slipped inside, and as I was fastening the latch there was a tornado with claws at my feet! At this point, I was not slightly afraid, I was terrified. I don’t know how I got the rooster away from my feet, but as he stood posturing I looked for a weapon to keep him away. The only thing I saw at that moment was two dried out oranges, which I grabbed as I walked to the chicken coop. I watched the rooster, and when he began to come at me again, I threw the oranges at him, only hitting him once, but that gave me enough time to get to the rake. This rake quelled his fighting spirit for the time being, but I made sure to keep my eye on him and my hand on the rake.

The next day I remembered that I had not checked the chickens water that morning, and it was nearing one hundred and ten degrees. I was tempted to just leave them, but the poor hens had not attacked me, and the rooster wasn’t mine. So I went to the pen, after putting on some boots from the house. Opening the gate, I grabbed the rake which I had left right by the entrance. The rake was still required if I did not want to be attacked, and I kept the full length of it between the rooster and me. Because he still looked nasty, I pushed the him away from the water until I was done being near it. As I walked from the pen, I saw him rush to get a drink, and I thought that maybe the next morning he would be a bit more agreeable out of thanks.

Maybe not. As soon as the rooster saw me the last morning, he began to posture and crow, threatening violence. I hurried through the chores as quickly as I could while grasping the handle of the rake. I was no longer terrified of the rooster, but I was becoming thoroughly disgusted with his bad manners. I left the pen with defiant glance, glad that for the time being I was done fighting him to gather eggs and feed his brood. When I came home that afternoon and looked out the back window at our chickens, I realized that maybe the female version of the chicken family was not as bad as I had thought. Of course, with such a comparison, anything would appear wonderful!

Radical Christian - Paul Washer - Sermon Jam from I'll Be Honest on Vimeo.

This man is quickly becoming my favorite preacher. When I listen to him cry out about sending his son into the worst part of the battle I wonder if I have the same courage to pray this for my sons (or daughters for that matter). My wife and I have for some time now been wondering, where is our cross supposed to be? Where is our suffering supposed to come from?
We have it too easy in this country. I am ashamed of my behavior when I hear about people like the young man in the video. What more should I be doing? How should I be teaching my children? I would hope that they would relish a chance to proclaim the gospel--to make that the focal point of their lives--and I would hope that I would encourage that, whatever the cost. The major question I have is this, is the greatest mission field our own city, or state, or country? I'm beginning to think so. I pray that my children will be willing to give their all for the cause of the gospel, but how can I pray that for them, when there are times I feel trepidation for something as simple as giving thanks for a meal in public sometime?
For those of you who read this, we covet your prayers for strength. The time is coming, maybe soon, when we may have an opportunity to make life ending choices; but pray for us that we can make the harder choices. The ones that will require us to live an example to the world every day. It's harder to live through a long, tedious trial than it is a short dramatic one. I hope this video inspires you. Make the hard choices well, and please pray that we would do the same.

Dad

Behold the Goodness of the Lord!

The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places;

Yea, I have a goodly heritage.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth:

My flesh also shall rest in hope.

Thou wilt show me the path of life:

In thy presence is fulness of joy;

At thy right hand are pleasures forevermore!

Psalm 16:6,9,11

Happy Independence Day!

Her whole mind seemed to be lighted up by that thought. This is what it means to be free. It means, you have to be good. "Our father's God, author of liberty-" The laws of Nature and of Nature's God endow you with a right to life and liberty. Then you have to keep the laws of God, for God's law is the only thing that gives you a right to be free.

Little Town on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder

Driving Home

As we left the conference Sunday afternoon, we had ninety minutes to complete a sixty minute drive to the airport to drop off Katherine. It was difficult to find the way out of the city, so we were behind already when we got on the freeway and it started to hail. It was actually a huge storm, with five tornadoes going in our vicinity, but all we saw was hailstones the size of marbles (still pretty impressive to us California girls!). God provided, though, and we got to the airport in plenty of time for Katherine to catch her flight.

Sunday night we stayed at my grandparent's house in order to get an early start Monday morning. Our uncle, aunt, and cousin came over to visit, and we enjoyed a wonderful meal prepared by my grandma.

Down in the basement that evening, we girls had a calm evening of talking and sharing, starting to digest and apply what was taught at the conference. Well, mostly calm, but there were a few exciting moments, like when the foot-rest of the chair flipped open unexpectedly, and just about startled us out of our skin. We were a little edgy, being so tired:).

The next two days were too long when we thought about wanting to be home, but not anywhere near long enough to solidify the sweet friendships that the Lord began to build on Him. The Church is one of the most precious things in life, and that week was a taste of Heaven in the fellowship, shared prayer, and encouragement.

My younger siblings had prepared a special surprise for all of us at home. They not only put a welcome sign on the sidewalk, but made a special one on a poster with each girl's name decorated uniquely. We felt very loved. Then it was time to separate, each girl to her own home, hoping to bring the encouragment of the Lord to her family. May He be praised in what we do!

At the Conference

We got to the conference late afternoon Friday. After setting up our rooms and walking to dinner (some of us taking the longer route:), we went to the first session. It was a powerful teaching on repentance, God’s glory, and holiness. The lights were dim, and God sent a thunderstorm to back up the anointed teaching on His majesty. There simply are not words to describe the greatness of God’s character that was revealed to us that evening.

What we learned through the weekend-

Useful definition: Flirting is drawing attention to myself.

We have entered a covenant with the King of kings: He gave His life for us, and requires our life in return.

It is the life that has no time for trifling that counts. Amy Carmichael

No matter the outcome to us, even if it were hell, God deserves all the glory that comes from our full obedience and surrender.

Inactivity or entertainment is not rest and refreshment. These only come from Christ. “The times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord.” Acts 3:19b

We may be able to get to Heaven without the extreme and full surrender asked of us, but that is not the point. Our Lord Christ deserves our all and everything. In the light of His sacrifice, nothing we give can compare to the glory He deserves. Our joy in giving back to Him surpasses any enjoyment we might get out of what we hold back.

We must trust God to fulfill the desires that He has given us, pleading with Him in prayer.

The Christian life is not about us. (So simple, yet so hard to grasp.)

God’s desire is the poor, hungry, sick and needy; what He desires is worth my life.

I have a claim to all of Christ; He has a claim to all of me.