Tag Archives: Bible

Cloudland

20 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and Artist

 

I was telling about Mother playing with us and training our imaginations by showing us how to find dogs, cats, and worlds of imaginary creatures in the clouds.

There’s a lot to be said about clouds, though, and I’m saying more. It occurred to me that electronic devices use Cloud technology and God uses it too, in a manner of speaking.

Have you ever been concerned that you didn’t pray hard enough or long enough about a situation or that you had to constantly remind God of a need or your prayers wouldn’t get answered? Well, my printer set me straight on that one. I realized that all I had to do was hit, click, or press print and the item I wanted would store itself in the printer and, all things being equal, not go away until it was printed. I began to know that God was like that too. He doesn’t forget. In fact, the Bible says He, or Jesus, or The Holy Spirit, or all three pray diligently for us all the time. Yes.

When I was looking at the clouds I took it a step further. I have a computer, an IPod, and a Kindle. I no longer have to worry about having enough Gigas or whatever it was that happened when I first got a computer. All my devices have lots of room and if they run out of room, it can all go to the cloud and be there if I ever need it again. I guess God has enough memory too. And the thought went even further to trying to remember what I need to do, and ideas I have about things I’d like to do or write or whatever, it gets to be a lot, but hey, maybe all that is in God’s cloud too.

I have one technical question. If God can handle all that “stuff” and God lives in me, does that mean that there’s a place in me that keeps it all and that if I need it, He can make it available to me? Hmmm. Experiment time.

Psalm 34:8 Taste and see that the Lord is good.

 

Cloud

 

 

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Angels Watching Over Us

15 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

 

Not long after I became a Christian there was a sort of underground movement to study demonology so people could be delivered and set free of their compulsions. Some of us read books on the subject and even prayed for ourselves and others to be exorcised. That was about the time the movie, “The Exorcist,” came out. I read the book (I was very sorry I did, too because it was scary, and did not, in my estimation carry a true Christian message.) I didn’t see the movie, thank the Lord.

The strangest thing went with the movement, and that was a fear of studying about or even thinking much about angels. The belief  was that if we gave much credence to the existence of angels we might worship them and be led astray. Demons okay, angels no. It sounds weird now.

I had a book on my shelf I was going to read someday if I ever got the nerve. It was called Angels, God’s Secret Agents, and it was written by Billy Graham. Now I don’t care what religion you are or what you believe in, you probably understand that Billy Graham would be one of the last people on earth who would lead you astray. But still, there the book sat.. After about thirty years I decided I was never going to read it and I donated it somewhere.

Eventually the adrenaline rush of demons went away leaving in its stead a returning appreciation of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Then one day I had the nerve to pick up a book about angels. It wasn’t very good,  just a bunch of second-hand sightings and ancient stories. I wished for my Billy Graham back, prayed for it back.

A few weeks later I had an urge to stop by my favorite SPCA store where I can get hard cover books for 32 cents and there it was. Oh, not the same copy, I’m sure, but just the book I wanted and had prayed for. I started reading it and I wondered why I was ever afraid. There are three hundred mentions of angels in the Bible and Billy Graham told about them in a calm peaceful way that was barely even exciting. They exist, they are God’s helpers, and that’s about it. No adrenaline rush.

I’ve never seen an angel or a demon, but I came to believe that demons loved attention more than anything and that I didn’t have to play their game. I never even think about them any more and that’s just fine. In some places missionaries might have to think about them, battle them, all that. I don’t.

So one day we were on I-4 barreling along 70 miles an hour in heavy traffic and seemingly from nowhere a large piece of metal came bouncing toward us making sparks as it gouged the highway. We thought it had come from the truck ahead and left of us. As Bill swerved, we felt an impact. Thank the Lord there was no one in the lane right of us. The man behind us to the right had to go to the shoulder, though.

We caught up to the truck and looked it over. We wanted to tell the man he might have something loose, but we were all going too fast to communicate.

When we got home we examined the car and discovered a three-foot long crease at the bottom of the driver’s door. That sharp metal bar missed slashing a tire, missed the radiator, missed the windshield and missed us–by inches. What do you do when something like that happens and you know plenty of other people have had bad accidents that day, some even died in them? I don’t know about you, but all I could do was thank God for having his secret agents on the job. I had to give a thought to all the invisible sources that are out there helping us day after day. Sure terrible things happen all the time, but these angelic encounters do too. I don’t think we deserved it, I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. I don’t have nearly as many answers as I used to. I just know to give thanks in everything, good or bad and keep on keeping on. Ministering angels can help with all that too.

Psalm 91:11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.

Luke 4:11 They will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

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Top Grade Literacy

11 Mar

My Take

DiVoran Lites

jungle divoran

I’ve always liked kids, reading, and books. That was the reason I took on a once a week job with reading challenged kids. It was fun. I learned a bit about ADHD, Dyslexia, and people who can read, but don’t comprehend what they read. We had young man stuck in the sixth grade because although he could mentally photograph a page, he could not explain what the words meant.

Several people I know have severe dyslexia. One is on welfare for it; the other is a brilliant doctor who gets books for the blind from the library so he can enjoy adventure books in his spare time like anybody else.

That’s one side of the coin. The other side is a friend who could go through ten romance novels a day and still take good care of her husband, children, and home. She ended up going to adult classes to get her college degree and supporting her children when her husband left them.

I know a couple of people who have turned reading into a fine art. One is Albert, a tall brown fellow about ten years old who is a wonderful natural athlete, especially as a basketball player. The first time I heard Albert read aloud in Sunday school I was thrilled and amazed. He had inflection; depth, tone, rhythm. I asked whether they  recognize his skills at school, and he confirmed that they do. He reads the announcements over the intercom every morning. When asked, his mother said she had read to him with those same embellishments since he was a baby and he had picked it up from there.

The other artistic reader who was an English teacher, taught her children to read before they went to school. Now she is frail and cared for by a daughter and a son who is a policeman. I never have heard one word of complaint from this dear lady. She’s always telling other people how wonderful they are.

She tells me that, frequently, her daughter calls her on the phone and reads to her from Jane Austen. They just finished, “Northanger Abby.” Every night her son reads a chapter from a James Herriot novel. “I get a bedtime story,” she says, happily.

Does that thrill you as much it does me? I’m not going to say reading aloud is a lost art. Obviously, it is not and someday perhaps someone will read to me in just that way, but for now, I’m thoroughly enjoying my IPod, http://www.audible.com, and my all time favorite author whose books are recorded for a new generation: D. E. Stevenson.

The best book to read, aloud or silently is, of course, the Bible, which can change your life for the better forever.

Matthew 4:4

But he answered, “It is written, “‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

*kids.

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A Moment with the Master

28 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

DiVoran Lites

 

A friend of Bill’s invited us to the dedication of the new pipe organ at his church. We went early and waited long. When we finally got into the church, we sat down facing the front wall where some of the organ’s pipes were worked into a beautiful and artistic cross.

The church held 350 people, but we found out later the crowd had swelled to 600 in the foyer and around the aisles and were grateful for the suggestion to arrive early.

One thing we had time to do was to read the excellent program we’d been given. Here are a few of the things we learned about the organ: The pipes we could see were just a sample of the number of pipes behind the wall, 2,197 of them to be exact, each with its own voice. The A. E. Schlueter Pipe Organ Company, pipes are made by hand one at a time, no assembly process there. The organ is assembled at the factory and tested for sound, then disassembled and taken to the church where it is put together so voicers could adjust it for the acoustics of the building.

The organist, Peter Beardsley, who is a wonder in his own right, played. “The Carnival of the Animals,” by Camille Saint-Saens, and several other pieces and we immersed ourselves in the music. We learned from him that if the organ as instrument had a patron saint it would be Bach.

The concert was almost over when one little pipe decided it did not want to stop sounding off. It wasn’t too loud, but no more music could be played while it was stealing the show. Mr. Beardsley rose and the pastor went to the front along with several other people. Everyone looked puzzled and helpless.

Down the aisle from the pew behind us strode a very big man in a black suit who had been introduced to us earlier as A. E. Schlueter, himself. A wave of relief swept over the crowd. He spoke to the puzzled professionals at the front and then came back to his seat. In a moment, the pipe quieted down.

So now, maybe you think the point of this story is to tell you that the master organ maker made everything right. Yes, that’s what I thought at the moment. But just to make a good thought better I wanted to know what the master had done to make it happen. As we filed out past Mr. Schlueter he was greeting people and shaking hands within a foot of us.

Oh please let me ask him a question, I thought, and to my delight and surprise he moved closer to where I was standing and looked right at me. Out of six hundred people, I was to get my answer without having to try to find him and talk to him at some other point, which I probably wouldn’t have done thinking he might be too busy for me.

“Did you do something to fix the organ?” I asked.

“I sent a man up to release the stuck valve,” he answered.

“Oh, the master was here. That’s the theme.” I said with delight. He understood that I was writing even though it looked as if I was just standing in front of him.

“The Lord has a sense of humor,” said Mr. Schlueter. “He likes to keep me humble.” It seemed as if he wanted me especially to tell my readers that, so I have–your own special message, dear reader, from the master.

And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying: this is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left.

 Isaiah 30 : 21

Pipe Organ

 

 

 

 

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Just Passing By

30 Jul

My Take

 

DiVoran Lites

 “Oh, hi,” I say to the dinner plate sized gopher tortoise off to one side of the trail. Our woods are a kind of sanctuary for them and we see them often. Is this one a boy tortoise or a girl tortoise? Our son, an expert on gopher tortoises, could tell us, but he’s not here, right now.

I walk toward the pass-through into the neighborhood where I live, but before I get there, I spot a smaller gopher tortoise, this one about the size of a Corning salad plate that looks as if he’s about to go into the subdivision.  I’ve never seen two tortoises at the same time so my imagination begins to take over as it usually does when I’m about to meddle in somebody else’s business.

Maybe the big one, is the small one’s, mother. Maybe she’s worried that he’ll go into the subdivision and be run over or attacked by a dog. Anyhow, subdivisions are dangerous for wildlife so I pick him up by the shell and take him over to the big one. If she is his mother, she can look after him and I can go on home.

The minute I set him down, the big one starts bobbing its head so hard I’m afraid it will get a crick in its neck. Right away, I remind myself that gopher tortoises are vegetarians and they don’t have any equipment with which to hurt each other. I hope. Otherwise, it might have been a mistake to bring them together.

Everything seems okay except for the emphatic bobbing. The small one doesn’t bob back, but then he doesn’t pull into his shell either. Now what?The big one starts walking away. The small one follows. Phew. Surely, they are mother and son going home just as I imagined. Wait, though, suddenly the small one dashes around the big one and slips into a hole exactly the size of his shell, leaving the big one on the outside looking stunned. It waits a moment then begins to graze.

We’ll have to talk to our son and see what its all about. Stay tuned. Maybe it’s just one more lesson in minding my own business.

Proverbs 26:17

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