Protection Angel-Style

He had a big machine gun in his hand and he was shooting it at some unknown foe.

He was outside my window doing it as I watched him with fear and fascination. Next thing I knew, he was before me and I was asking him about it. He was wearing belted jeans and a plaid shirt and had white hair. He smiled at me.

“Thank you for killing that man! It was awfully nice of you to defend us like you did.”

“You’re welcome!” he said, “but can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, sure.” I replied.

“How much of the Bible do you know?”

“Quite a lot of it.” I said.

“What percentage would you say?”

“About 70 to 80 percent.” I replied. “I’ve read it through many times and have memorized many passages.

“Good.” He said and nodded at my answer. "Keep it up."

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re gonna need that knowledge in the future. “

Before I could say another thing, I heard my husband screaming:

“Laura, wake up! Wake up, it’s time for supper!”

I woke up and sat up and realized it was only a dream during my daily afternoon nap. I thought about it as I hurried downstairs and realized that that man must’ve been an angel protecting us. It was very comforting to think of it that way. But the part about the Bible disturbed me a little. Would the future even more difficult than it is now? Will they take away our Bibles?

I hope not, but you never know. We Christians have been greatly spoiled in America with our prosperity. It is not the case in the rest of the world where many Christians are suffering from persecution.

I shared this dream with my husband and son. Then, I was wondering what I would write in my blog this week. This seemed to be what the Lord had given me to write about. This is true, by the way. I did not make any of this up.

“Study to shew thyself approved, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” 1 Timothy 2:15

Let’s keep studying and memorizing God’s Word and its wonderful promises.  Let’s walk in the light of his Word, too. The day of Christ is soon approaching!

Life Under Full Sail

I remember when there were pine trees there as far as you could see.  I also remember when there was no road and just a dirt path through the woods.

Now it’s a movie-studio-university where people graduate to work on major motion pictures. And my son, Tom, wants to go there to become a movie director. He just got discharged from the Army and his dream has always been to write movie scripts. So he looked on-line to find a good film school and he checked out Full Sail. We had heard of it because my sister had worked there years ago.

We then decided to schedule a tour on a quiet Sunday in October. It was a behind-the-scenes kind of tour.

Full Sail used to be a small place on University Blvd which turns into Scarlet road just across from Semoran Blvd. Semoran is the major north south artery of this part of Orlando and University runs east towards the University of Central Florida.  But it has grown now. When we got off the Central Florida Expressway, we started looking for it.

“That’s where I used to live when I was little!” I told my son. “Banchory road is right there.” I pointed to it and then I turned my head and couldn’t believe my eyes. Full Sail was right across the street! It had taken over the whole corner and what used to be a shopping center. It has 17,000 full time students now.

“All films are based on storytelling.” Our tour guide said as he walked us through the various buildings that contained the Full Sail studios. Sometimes, I thought to myself, it starts with a screenplay or even a book.

But after four hours of information, touring the campus and viewing videos I couldn’t help sensing the futility of chasing our dreams without the pursuit of God. How sad that seemed and how empty; how unfulfilling and deceiving.  Yes after looking at all of it, seeing the cameras, the lights and the music, I couldn’t help but realize that modern man has led himself far down the road to destruction.  He now worships himself over anything else. Our technology seems to be pulling us away from God instead f towards Him. Is it good or evil? Perhaps it’s a neutral phenomenon that can be used in a good or evil way. Without God it is void of any moral or spiritual hope.

 Christ alone can fully give you a full life and a full cup of joy. Everything else will end in bitter disappointment. And my son is headed into this tempest. He starts classes next month. I pray he turns to God and I hope he finds the truth which is only in Jesus Christ and his Word. No amount of movies can substitute for that…

Jesus said:

“These things I have spoken unto you that my joy may remain in you and that your joy may be full.” (John 15:11)

Lord, may my son’s joy be full. And mine, too.

That Sinking Feeling, Part 2: Holes

“We found a void,” our contractor told us, “and filled it.”

“Really?” I asked. “Where was it?”

“Right here in the front yard.” She pointed in that general direction.

“That’s where we thought the sinkhole was!” I exclaimed, “It makes sense!”

I remember the first day they started their work. There were holes; lots of them. Big ones, little ones; some double and that looked like deep pockmarks checkering the ground; a pattern of a straight line with a hole every two to three feet all around the house. Some little ones, too.  Some bigger ones that scarred the front walk and the patio. Holes filled with murky, brown water.

The week had finally arrived; the week of sinkhole repair. The day started with smelly men arriving in their smelly trucks to fix the alleged culprit under our home. My house felt like it was under siege in an all-out war. Men were trampling my plants and women were sitting on my lawn planning an all-out attack.

I feel like I’m being uprooted every day as my home around me disintegrates; we’re packing up to leave and go away. The cuckoo clock is ticking. Time is running out. We have only months left. We leaving paradise lost to return to the Old World; we’re leaving the land of perpetual summer for one of long winters.

The hot tropical rain pours down on the sweaty men. They keep on working. We hear the continuous bang of hammers. My plants are dying; my life is disrupted. Truck after truck pours cement through pipes into the ground and rattle my house.

Meanwhile, the boxes pile up and I’m practicing for a Christmas cantata I will never sing on a hot summer day in late September. Hoping to leave soon; going to the old world from the new. Hoping to be with four precious grandchildren; hoping to find them over the wide ocean 6000 miles away. It’s a new beginning and we’re stepping out in faith.

 I’m afraid of the cold and desolate place where we will be but God will carry us through as always.

Still making more repairs, but soon we’ll be ready…

Lord, thank you for filling all our voids…