You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April 2008.
I ran across this sermon about the Duke of Wellington in my research for my regency novel:
We have seen that all his riches, all
his honours, all his glory, could not spare him from the common lot
of man — and all our tears, all our wishes, all our prayers can now avail
him nothing — and how distressing, how heartrending would it be, if
we could for a moment fear that he who had gained all other riches, had
lost the pearl of greatest price — that he had saved and delivered
so many in this world, was himself not saved in another — that he who
had so faithfully served his earthly Sovereign had neglected his
heavenly One — and that he who had obtained the brightest coronet
below, had failed to obtain the crown of glory above. ”
These fears, however, my friends, I trust we need not indulge ;
on the contrary, there is every reason to hope and believe that he
had made his peace with his Maker, and that he who so carefully
fulfilled all his temporal duties had not neglected the all-important
realities of eternity. It has caused feeling of greater delight than
the rehearsal of all his victories, to be informed that those who knew
him best speak of his regular, consistent, and unceasing piety — of his
unostentatious but abounding charity, and tell us that he consecrated
each day to God ; that at the early service in the Chapel Eoyal, he (
who was no hypocrite, never did anything for a mere pretence, who
scorned the very idea of deceit) was regularly, almost alone, confessing
his sins, acknowledging his guilt, and entreating mercy in the
beautiful words of our own evangelical Liturgy, not for his own
merits, but for the merits of that Saviour who bled and died for him.
It is not then because of the height of his position — the magnanimity
of his character — the temperance of his habits — the mercifulness
of his disposition — the singleness and purity of his purpose —
the obedience to what his conscience told him to be right —
his unhesitating and inviolable truth — or on his devotion to
his country, that we place our hopes of his eternal salvation, but
because we believe that he knew these were only valuable as proofs
of his faith — all of which he cast at the feet of his Saviour — and that
he placed all his hopes of future glory in the sacrifice of the beloved
Son of God, who descended from heaven to bring his people to his
Father’s right hand, and died the accursed death of the cross, that
they might live for ever. ”
But whilst we are grateful to Almighty God for having raised
up in the hour of our country’s need one qualified to meet the
emergency, and to defend it from the dangers with which it was
surrounded,— whilst we sorrow not as men without hope for him
whom we trust to have departed in the Lord — let us not forget,
that the good conduct of great men is an example for the rest of
mankind, and that most important lessons are taught not only to
the noble and the great, but even the humblest among us, by the life
and death of the departed hero.” — Sermon on the ” Might and
Majesty of Death,” suggested by the death of the Duke of Wellington :
by the Rev. J. A. Emerton, D.D.
His whole biography can be read at The Life of Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington.
Another fishing blog?
There’s this country song called I’m Gonna Miss Her sung by Brad Paisley. I don’t like it at all, because the man loves fishing more than he does his wife.
In my neck of the woods men hunt and fish for pleasure.
Simon, Andrew, James and John were career fisherman. I bet they liked to fish as much as I enjoy writing my stories. Yet when Jesus called them, they dropped their nets and went with him. Just like that. No questions why.
I would like to think that if Jesus walked into a coffee shop where I was typing away on my laptop and He said, “I will make you a Writer for me” I would leave my laptop on the table and follow him. That would be a sacrifice for me. And I’m sure it was a sacrifice for those men who left their nets and obediently followed Jesus.
Mark 1: 16-20 (New International Version)
16As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 17“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” 18At once they left their nets and followed him.
19When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. 20Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.
My church gave its members a deadline in which to choose their cemetery plot in the lot by the church.
My mother made the phone call for me and my sister. We chose what could be prime locations–our own little place in this world.
When I called my sister afterward she said, “So, I hear we’re good to go.”
Yes, we’re good to go. Not because we have a place to deposit our remains, but because we have a relationship with a man called Jesus.
John 3:18 (New International Version)
18Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.
You can call me the procrastinator, because that is what I am doing.
I have set a goal of 25 pages today as I did last week. Do you know how many pages I wrote last week?
Three. Three whole pages. A long way from my goal.
And today I’ve loaded music to my Palm T/X, read email, critiqued a chapter for one of my critique partners(at least that was writing related) and surfed the internet, but I haven’t written one word to my manuscript, Absalom’s Beauty.
For one thing I’m stuck in the plot. I know what I need to have happen, but I’m not sure where it will lead. And most of all, I’m afraid I’ll not have enough words to write to make the 25 pages. Why do I allow that to stop me?
This whole writing business is distressing at times. I will attend a conference in May. I’ll decide then if I should continue on this journey, because quite frankly, this writing business has become expensive. The problem I will have is that I’ll continue to have story ideas and must write them down.
My prayer to God then is that if this is not His will for my life, he’ll stop the flow of ideas.
My son and I used to act out the book Are You My Mother? by P D Eastman. He would ask different objects in the room if they were his mother until he finally got to me and I proudly said, “I am your mother.” As a mother bird there will come a time when I need to kick my baby bird from the nest and say “Off you go.”
For weeks now, my son has felt a burning desire to make his faith in Jesus known to the people of my church. He has one problem–extreme shyness around other people. As the mother bird, I wanted to “kick” him out of the pew to walk the long aisle to the front where the minister waited. But this decision had to be all his own. My only influence was to make sure he understood the basics: know you are a sinner, ask God to forgive you of those sins and to trust in him alone for eternal life. But the rest had to be up to him. He had to make the decision to move from the pew and up to the front.
On April 20th 2008 my baby bird took that step off the edge of the nest and he flew even though it was a scary thing for him.
Isaiah 40:30-31 (New International Version)
30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
31 but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
I saw the movie “Expelled” today.
Unfortunately, the movie theater listing in my newspaper reported the movie with a R rating. According to IMDb and the Expelled Website, the movie is rated PG.
I don’t remember any bad language. It did have scenes from the Holocaust and WWII but nothing that I had not seen before in documentaries on the war while I was in school. It showed men smoking.
As a believer that there was and is a Creator, I urge you to see the movie.
The basis for the movie is Academic Freedom and not to prove there is a creator, but I feel Ben Stein did an excellent job at making the “scientists” look like buffoons or should I say baboons since they came from monkeys. One of them believed that life started from crystals and another said we come from aliens. I don’t know about you, but believing in God is much easier than their propositions.
The framers of our government said this:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.(The Declaration of Independence)
Romans 1:19-21 (New International Version)
19since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. 20For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.
21For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.
Wow!
Hardback books: $1
Paperback books: 50 cents
I came home from the friends of the library book sale with:
13 Love Inspired Novels from 2007
Les Miserable by Victor Hugo
Ronald Reagan’s Spiritual Heritage
Three by Ted Dekker
Central Park by Debra White Smith
Two Volumes of Select Editions
Black Beauty
Heidi
Robin Hood
The Prodigal by Beverly Lewis
Deadline by Randy Alcorn
The Trouble With Tulip by Mindy Starns Clark
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
3 Debbie Macomber Novels
The Husband by Dean Koontz
Firstborn by Robin Lee Hatcher
And
7 Agatha Christie novels (nicely bound by Bantam)
Oh, and I donated a copy of my self-published novel and it was purchased within 10 minutes. (Well, yes I did happen to know the person who purchased it –she is my sister’s good friend –Thank you, Linda!)
I watched the Barbara Walters Special by way of DVR (wonderful invention for people who like to go to bed early).
She delved into some exciting research on living longer. That’s not a bad thing.
But I have a problem with the cryogenics thing.
A family (a father, a mother and their young children) paid to have their bodies frozen at their death so that when a medical breakthrough happens on whatever caused their demise they can be brought back and be made well.
Here’s the problem:
If you are a Christian and you’ve been in Heaven for let’s say 50 years, why oh why, would you want to come back to a place of war, pollution, hatred, jealousy, envy? There isn’t a pill that can eliminate those.
Instead, when I die, I’ll be in heaven–a place of peace, no tears, a big table of food–a continuous celebration. Best of all, Jesus will be there–the one who made my presence at this big party possible.
I see the benefit in cryogenics for those who don’t believe the way I do.
Let’s say you been in the other place–Hell– for 50 years–your thirst is never quenched, you have constant pain from the burning. At least you have “hope” you won’t suffer forever. But what happens if the power goes out at the cryogenics lab before that medical breakthrough happens? Or the people that sold you the right to be frozen goes bankrupt and they can’t pay the electric bill?
Um. Sounds like a good plot to a story doesn’t it? You’ve been burning in Hell for 50 years and have been brought back. What do you do? Click here for a story about a rich man in hell who said what he wanted to happen.
Luke 23:42-43 (New International Version)
42Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.[a]”
43Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Luke 16:27-28
27“He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father’s house, 28for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’
It is my duty as a Christian to warn them of that place of torment.
Here is a picture of my sister and her girls with our great-uncle who is 102. He’ll turn 103 in November.
I’m half-way through my book, Absalom’s Beauty! I wrote 26 pages on Saturday.
I don’t know how I’ll come up with enough words to write another 150 pages.
Put A Ruffle On It 
Recent Comments