The First Day Of November

Were she still alive, my mother would be 93 years plus one day today.

Yes, she always lied about her birthday.

She said it was November First.

But in going through her papers after she died in 1985, we found her birth certificate showing that she was actually born on Halloween. Not even her sisters knew this. We figure she was ashamed of her birthday because people might think she was a witch or something evil.

I refrain from further comment.

During the day yesterday, Ginny and I divided forces in preparations for our anniversary trip. She took the car to the mechanic for a checkup—which ate grievously into our vacation cash—while I blew accumulated leaves off the roof and cleaned the rain gutters.

We met for lunch at a BBQ place where our waitress wore a skimpy devil costume. Her cleavage was so deep you could loose a whole side of ribs down there.

I noticed.

Then, in the evening Ginny and I set out our Halloween display and prepared huge packets for trick-or-treaters. I didn’t take photos this year; pretty much the same set up display as for previous years except we included more candy in the packets this year. (See October 30, 2005 for photos).

I wonder if this is worth the effort but we do what we can and give the best we’ve got.

You can never tell what counts and what doesn’t.

For instance, a neighbor came over to sit outside with me to talk seriously for a time last night as we handed out the candy, tracts, and toys. He’s seen something or another that made him want to talk with me.

Funny thing that because Friday night Ginny and I ran into a young couple we haven’t seen in ten or 12 years and they went on and on about how much of a testimony we were to them. In fact they’d been talking about us on Thursday…. Funny thing, is how I see this “Young” couple as young when they were out with their grandbaby!

I’m really getting over the hill when I think of grandparents as young.

A happy encounter.

All day Ginny and I have enjoyed happy, serious conversations ourselves—talking about our vacation plans and sex and history and art and joy and Christian witness.

Last week my friends Barbara and Wes treated me to breakfast as someplace that wasn’t Dave’s and we talked about these same sort of issues. Odd, Barbara is in her 80s and has just finished chemo treatments for ovarian cancer, yet she’s planning an evangelist/Christian growth outreach at the retirement home where she lives. She’s forming a discussion group to think about basic Christian living issues.

And here I am, ten years younger and in good health—doing nothing to advance the Kingdom of Christ… Ginny and I talked about this quite a bit yesterday.

I’d like to think that writing this book I’m working on about finding and following the will of God may be a bit of a witness. But judging from the way my books have circulated in the past, I don’t have much hope for this one making much of an impact either.

Here’s an interesting note about that:

Martin Luther wrote a book named, The Bondage Of The Will; Jonathan Edwards wrote a book named, The Freedom Of The Will. I’ve been reading excerpts from both books as I research my own tome… Any wonder that the more I research the subject, the less I know about it.

I’m examining the thoughts and lives of great thinkers and Christians of the past to see how they found the will of God in their own lives.

I’m looking at Scripture to see how God leads. The one passage just about everyone knows begins, “The Lord is my Shepherd…He leadeth me…”.

And I also look at various pagan practices from hepatoscopy to oneiromancy to see how people have sought the voice of God (Hepatoscopy is seeking the will of the gods in the liver of a sacrifice; oneiromancy is seeking the will of gods in your sleep). I even examine the practice of listening for the voice of a god by holding a sea shell to your ear.

But besides looking at Scripture and the lives and thoughts of other Christians, I’m also going back through some of my old diaries to detail how I think God may have led me in various practical situations such as buying a car, home repairs, treatment for my prostate cancer, Everyday stuff like that.

One thing I find in all this study is that God often leads us by applying the pressure of circumstance.

He places us under tremendous tension and stress to bring about His will.

Think of God as an archer.

Think of His message as an arrow.

You are the bow.

The more strain on the bow, the more power of the arrow’s impact.

No archer wants to break His bow; he wants it to function under maximum stress.

That might explain a lot of stuff that happens in life.

Barbara tells me that when she was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer, she thought that just might be her ticket out, but as her body responded positively to the chemo, there came a point when she said, “Looks like I’m going to live. What does the Lord want me to do with the rest of my life?”.

So she bought the video tapes and began setting up the life-issues discussion group.

We all want to know God’s will—even if we only want to know it so we can perhaps consider it one of our options.

We’d like to see a big bush that talks and burns at the same time—but that’s only happened to one guy.

God’s guidance for most of us is a bit more subtle.

For instance, as I think back about how 42 years ago Ginny and I decided to get married, it boils down to this:

She was horny.

I was horny.

That settled the matter.

You mean God can lead by purely human appetites of the flesh?

Worked for us.