tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61350562009-12-23T16:45:53.393-06:00<b>68 years of age, 37 years anchored in Christ, 45 years with the same woman, 10 years in Navy "chasing ditties", picking up some Russian, Serbo-Croatian, and a little Spanish. Marriage, as noted, survived. Language skills didn't. Presently "retired" after thirty years as a railroad clerk, but working in public school system with Special-Ed. Three daughters, five grandsons and one very "girly" granddaughter complimented by one of each variety "adopted" along the way. </b>Jimjimfiler@insightbb.comBlogger904125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135056.post-89957700404178526782009-12-23T16:43:00.003-06:002009-12-23T16:45:53.399-06:00

The second individual shared with us in the latter portion of Chapter four is a nobleman whom my Bible appears to link in some form or fashion with the centurion mentioned in two of the other Gospels. Both are said to reside in the small town of Capernaum, but the centurion seeks healing for a servant and is told by Jesus that he has great faith, while this man, with a son at home who is at the

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Chapter Four presents us with two narratives, the first reminding me of working third shift at the railroad and sometimes making a run to an inner city White Castle around two or so in the morning for burgers. You could always count on the place being deserted other than one or two individuals whose bodies were tattooed and pierced from top to bottom, leather clothing, boots, and hair usually

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However it happened, I’ve I’ve already discussed that which stands out to me in the hinder portion of John, Chapter Three. One could certainly argue that when the Baptist spoke of his “decreasing” that Christ might “increase”, he did so in terms of ministry being transferred one to the other; but, if you stop and think about it, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting is required of us in our

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“But Jesus did not commit himself unto them, because he knew all men, and needed not that any should testify of man: for he knew what was in man”….John 2:24-25It is Saturday morning here (although it may well be Sunday evening before I manage to get my thoughts together), a covering of snow on the ground with the weathermen predicting a bit more to come, and it is the beginning of what we within

Jimjimfiler@insightbb.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135056.post-13525346357837486552009-12-18T18:25:00.003-06:002009-12-18T18:33:44.652-06:00

The last half of Chapter Two has Jesus cleansing the Jerusalem temple of what men have continued to do down through the ages. Turning the Father’s “business” into a house of merchandise has long been a profitable venture for some. It is strange to me, though, that, while the other Gospels report this incident much later in their version of “the good news”, John reports it here, almost as if it,

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John, Chapter two, begins with the story of a marriage celebration which Mary, the mother of Jesus, seems to have held some responsibility in the arrangements thereof, for when the wine supply runs low, she sends for her son and assigns him the task of doing something about it. Though His “hour has not yet come”, yet He orders several large vessels to be filled with water; and when it is served,

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Chapter one closes with a record of how four of the disciples were called by Christ. Andrew, after John’s baptism of Jesus, went to his brother, Simon Peter, convincing him he had found the Messiah. We are given no information, however, as to why the Lord approached Philip, only that the latter then went to his friend Nathanael, asking him to “Come and see”; and it is the conversation that took

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With no explanation of how someone who “wasn’t until he was” managed to help speak all that is into existence, the apostle now begins his narrative of the Savior’s life by taking us to the banks of the Jordan River where John the Baptist is quoting the prophet Isaiah and assuring the Pharisees he is neither a reincarnation of Elijah nor the Messiah whom all of Israel awaits. It is only a day

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John, like Mark, omits the details of Christ being born in a manger; yet, until we deal with some sort of “unwrapping that gift”, all we possess is a traditional celebration of a calendar event. Our “faith” looks to the Cross, either embracing or rejecting the idea of “forgiveness”, and December 25th merely represents the birth of that one who will one day “die for our sins”. It’s easy, in fact,

Jimjimfiler@insightbb.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135056.post-44823351203713705652009-12-13T16:11:00.004-06:002009-12-13T16:32:59.649-06:00

See previous entry. This is the first in a series. Hope a few will go with me as I continue. John’s Gospel opens with the very same three words that Moses gave us to initiate the Book of Genesis. “In the beginning,” he writes, “was the Word”; and, in doing so, he immediately presents to us the question that every believer must settle for himself. It is quite evident that when he refers to “the

Jimjimfiler@insightbb.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135056.post-89859371236122718062009-12-10T19:59:00.000-06:002009-12-10T20:00:40.509-06:00

My first entry into the blogosphere occurred on November 28th, 2003, but a friend’s mention of Diaryland had introduced me to on-line journaling about three years before converting to this “un-ending roll of paper” format. By the time I arrived here, my childhood, my teens, my Navy years, and three decades of railroad employment had already been “public”-cised to the point that it all seemed, at

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“Over time, I have grown more comfortable with mystery rather than certainty. God does not twist arms and never forces us into a corner with faith as the only exit. We will always, with Pascal, see “too much to deny and too little to be sure.”….YanceyThis is my second year in a return to the original unit where I first began my journey within elementary Special-Education. Our room is assigned the

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For the last week or so I’ve been fighting either a cold or where my sinuses tend to go in this sort of weather and, after taking a sick day to visit Veterans yesterday for some medicine, I was able to get to school only fifteen minutes late, adjusting my record to show myself working. The autistic boy with whom I work doesn’t understand when his routine is changed and so I try not to disappoint

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There were about ten girls seated against the real wall of the Detention Center rec-room Sunday morning and at least thirty to forty boys positioned in front of them. Bob opened with the song, “Pour My Love on You”, hooking up with the Holy Ghost and rendering it with an anointing that carried over into those thoughts he shared afterwards. Once again the kids were with us from the beginning and

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Someone informed me yesterday that it was Abraham Lincoln who, in 1863, proclaimed Thanksgiving a national holiday; and, from the traffic I encountered Wednesday in driving to pick up a few things Beth needed for our family get-together, the celebration of it has put more life back into our economy than anything the government has tried thus far. While I certainly enjoy any excuse to relax and

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The population of our Youth Detention Center congregation Sunday morning seemed less than usual. I thought it perhaps due to the upcoming holiday permitting an earlier escape to some of those incarcerated for more minor infractions, then learned that one unit was being punished, its members restricted to their cells because of behavior. Some believe that God orchestrates all things; but, while I

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There’s a new television drama series that has caught my interest, a continuing adventure concerning the staff at a hospital committed to patients in need of a transplant. Each week, lives hang in the balance. Sunday evening, however, a bit of a twist was injected into the normal flow of things: an older man (late 50s-early 60s) is brought in with what they think is serious damage to his heart,

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Beth stayed home from early church service yesterday, sleeping in with the granddaughter who wasn’t feeling too well. I went, but opted to sneak out, after worship, choosing to sit in on a friend’s Sunday school class rather than listen to a sermon. The lesson, as it turned out, was part of a series entitled “Living Upside Down” and today’s particular portion concerned idols, albeit not the sort

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Naked Pastor recently shared one of his cartoon images, this one an over-enthused pastor pounding a pulpit as he delivers with passion the message that “If you have faith, the Bible promises that you will never get sick; but if you do get sick, the Bible promises that it will not be unto death; but if you do die, the Bible promises that you will go to Heaven; but if you don’t go to Heaven, then

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The writer of Hebrews, in one place, expresses the theology that if a man would come to God, he must first “believe that He is”. Yet elsewhere within the Word, we are told that “the devils also believe, and tremble”. Surely we are humbled, then, in any notion we might possess of our “belief” somehow securing any sort of promise unto us. Belief, like faith, is only of value if it is able to bring

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After about a twenty minute drive south on the Interstate last night, Beth and I took the exit ramp into rural Kentucky, winding our way downhill toward the river before a final six mile, two-lane stretch through the middle of nowhere. No Wal-Mart. No McDonalds. I don’t even recall seeing a gas station. We did end our journey, though, before reaching the actual city limits of Warsaw and, for all

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The house in which Beth and I live yet received its water from a cistern and that means it comes to our faucets via a pump. Saturday evening, while I was out at the old church with the grandkids “trunk or treating”, the cell phone rang to inform me that something was obviously wrong in the manner such system was operating. The only way one could get the mechanism to stop its duties was to flip

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In a church service I attended recently, one fellow spoke of how, in spite of our having taken “one giant leap for mankind” and, via other mechanical methods, conquered Mars, he was glad that the Bible, in one place, refers to God having cast our sins “into the depths of the sea”. His reasoning was that, at its greatest point, we only have to descend a little more than six miles to reach the

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“Day after day I’m so confused; but I look for the light through the pourin’ rain. You know that’s a game I hate to lose; and I’m feelin’ the strain, ain’t it a shame… Beginning to think that I’m wasting time. I don’t understand the things that I do. The world outside looks so unkind. So I’m countin’ on you to carry me through… Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul; I wanna get

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The last words in an old Robert Redford movie are spoken by an elderly gentleman who stands in the middle of a mountain stream fly-casting for trout and muses how, when he is all alone in the half-light of the canyon, all existence seems to fade to a being with his soul and its memories, how now nearly all those he loved and did not understand in his youth are dead, but he still reaches out to

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