The snow kept piling on and on. The piles made by the snow plows went higher and higher. We thought we’d be buried in a glacier until uncovered by shocked archaeologists refusing to believe it as the evidence falsified everything they held dear.
That’s when spring came. That’s when we could credibly whine about global warming again. That’s when the snow melted.
As it did things we couldn’t find reappeared. All of this uncovered evidence falsified explanations we cherished about what happened to that missing stuff only a fool would have left outside.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields offers the photo below by Dale Rogerson as the prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.
Jim waited for the gentle sounds of birds before getting out of bed. Later he walked through a park with tall trees and grassy slopes. Today he paused where the stream had been dammed to form a pond before crossing the bridge made out of wooden boards.
He knew this wasn’t yet heaven, but rather the beginning of eternity starting afresh each morning if he chose to persevere. Since he knew he had been healed he breathed freely in spite of the lingering manifestations of disease tempting him with doubt.
Jim indeed persevered crossing the narrow bridge of wooden boards powered by the gratitude of his praise.
In the photo above are three royal terns (plus the legs of two others) minding their own business on the shore and wondering if I would mind mine.
In the photo below there are two birds (perhaps seagulls) watching the sunrise. There is actually a third tiny bird (sandpiper?) to the left on the shore.
Both of these were taken in southern Florida some years ago using my phone.
If faith without works is dead, what are works without faith? Answers that come to mind are magic or manipulation. Rather than pitting faith against works perhaps we should aim to avoid both faith without works and works without faith.
That makes me wonder what the Greek word ἔργων or the Hebrew word מעשים might mean besides “works”, “deeds” or “actions”? Could one understand this as “faith without practice is dead” or “faith without exercising it is dead”?
Regardless, Audrey Mack compares faith to muscles. We all have muscles, but some of us are weaker than others. Muscles become stronger as we exercise them. So does faith.
The tray with breakfast for two makes sense, even the laptop, but not that red phone.
This could be the interior of a nonexistent alien spaceship from some galaxy too far away to ever reach earth or an artificially unintelligent machine executing a plan to save the captured phone. I think I’ll go with the aliens. Why not? It’s either that or there’s a bug in the simulator.
If only I could get my brain out of the vat.
What’s with those wires? They’re stardust evolved from the big bang! That must be what they are otherwise nothing makes sense.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields offers the photo below by David Stewart as this week’s prompt.
Psalm 53:2, “God looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, that did seek God.” (KJV)
George loved to run his mouth going after his targets with the punishing rhythm of a piercing sword. He didn’t think he was doing anything wrong because words, surreal as they might make things appear with new moon star light or full moon madness, weren’t really swords, or were they?
Regardless, he was so successful that some were afraid they would not be able to survive without getting the mark of George on their foreheads and so they took it. Eventually those with sharper tongues pinned George to the ground. They ran through their mouths loud, rationalized nonsense spiced with curses until he admitted defeat and took their marks.
As ancient prophecy foretold such troubles would continue until they were stopped by the Anointed King, but in the meantime one would have to put up with a succession of starry-eyed new moon Georges with full moon mad king aspirations who preferred wounding to healing.
Denise offers the prompt word “rhythm” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories. As I kept altering this story it got to a point that I thought it might also work for Eugenia’s challenge this week where she offered the prompt word “surreal”.
David Pawson asked in the lecture below (about 12:00) why are believers so certain they are saved?
Is the basis for our assurance the Scriptures? Not completely. The Scriptures are too objective. Pawson explained, “It says there that whoever believes is certain of Heaven, but how do I know I am included?” (about 13:50)
Is the basis for our certainty our holiness? Again, not completely. Our holiness is too subjective. Pawson explained, “If my assurance is based on my living a Christ-like life in the world, then frankly I am going to be beset by a nagging doubt again, because there are times that I know that I have not lived a Christ-like life.” (about 15:30)
Where then do we find assurance? Pawson answered: “The thing that clinches it every time is neither the Scripture nor your own sanctity, but the Spirit.” (about 17:10) Through our mouths the Spirit overflows as we testify that Jesus is Lord and God is Father. That overflow with joy is our certainty.
If we can make that testimony with our mouths, then we have all we need for the gift of tongues. This gift allows us to pray to God in languages we do not understand which keeps our minds from getting in the way. We do this privately for personal edification. That prayer is between ourselves and God.
How do we do it? Breathe in. Open the mouth. Move the lips and tongue and make sounds even if they are very quiet, under one’s breath. Trust the Spirit will come up with the perfect words of prayer and praise in agreement with the Father’s will and not our own.
Someone might complain that anyone, even those without the Spirit, could fake praying in tongues if they wanted to. True. They could, if they wanted to, but who in their right mind would want to do that for very long without the joy, thanks and praise coming from the Holy Spirit?
Nor does this mean that one must pray in tongues if one has the Spirit. It’s a privilege. One gets to do this for long periods of time if one wants to. When some demon is messing with your mind trying to push you over a cliff of anger, lust or self-centeredness or whatever, start praying in tongues. The demon won’t have a clue what you’re saying. Then send that demon over the cliff if it hasn’t already jumped.
Your body has become a temple of the Holy Spirit.
For more information on praying in tongues see Dave Roberson’s free pdf book, The Walk of the Spirit – The Walk of Power: The Vital Role of Praying in Tongues. This post is about what he referred to as “tongues for personal edification” in Chapter 5. Another useful resource is by Mahesh Chavda, The Hidden Power of Speaking in Tongues. Andrew Wommack explains how praying in tongues is done in his final lecture of the series How To Hear God’s Voice. To put this all in perspective, Ryan Reeves presents a general, historical overview of Pentacostalism.
Not all Christians accept praying in tongues. Indeed, I suspect most don’t, but I also suspect with the growth of Pentecostalism that will change. For example, John MacArthur rejected tongues because he claimed it is easy to falsify and Greg Bahnsen made a theological claim that tongues have ceased. However, I find praying in tongues to be an effective exercise that keeps my heart on the Lord and strengthens my faith.
You are welcome to express your own views in the comments below.
Weekly Parashah Readings Parashah: Metzora 8 Nissan, 5782 – April 9, 2022 Torah:Leviticus 14:1 – 15:33 Haftarah:Kings II 7:3-20 Brit Chadashah:Matthew 8:1-17 Resources:Chabad, Hebrew4Christians,Weekly Torah Readings, Calendar
Busy folk in the city paid no attention to the clouds splashing through the sky. The clouds got darker. They dropped thick, beautiful snow. The busy folk couldn’t get to work. The snow was so deep the snow plow driver didn’t see the sign to raise the plow in time. That made a mess.
People blamed the politicians who promised global warming. The politicians blamed the scientists. The scientists blamed Gaia. Since Gaia doesn’t exist, she couldn’t care less.
The clouds couldn’t care less either, because that’s not what clouds do. They splash through the sky dropping rain and snow.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 