Gratitude and
15,000 Thank Yous Every Day
15,000 Thank Yous Every Day
In a world full of pain and fear, I have learned that being grateful for the tens of thousands of blessings the Lord sends every day keeps me bouyed to Him.
First let me say, on rare occasions I do become offended. But when that happens I almost always recognize it and immediately repent.
Having gotten that of the way, How do I stay unoffendable? Maybe my ability to handle offenses comes from a childhood full of them. What I knew about myself when I was growing up was that I was ugly and stupid and nothing I did would ever work out right. After I gave my life to Jesus and the healing of how I saw myself had begun, I would see others behaving in shameful ways, and the first thoughts that would pop into my mind was/is “What happened to them, to make them like that? What did they go through as children, that they would think that kind of behavior is acceptable?” I know why I acted out as a child. I needed attention. I craved attention and when I didn’t get the attention at home, I would behave badly at school or girl scouts or any other occasion I was in that wasn’t at home. If I couldn’t get attention from being good, I would get attention from being a problem. Back then I knew I was a trouble maker but I felt that I was never given the chance to shine in a good way. Fast forward to me being 50+ years old. I’ve learned from hard lessons and tender teachings that I am more valuable to the Lord than I could ever imagine! In His eyes I can do no wrong! I am beautiful, really smart and there are many things that I do really well. When I understood that, I gained more patience and tenderness toward those around me, especially in the church. I remind myself that Jesus loves each and every difficult person just as much as He loves me and if my goal is to emulate Him, then I need to Love them too. I so often recognize my old self in their behaviors. Heidi Baker, church builder in Mozambique, Africa, has a standard she lives by and now I do too. “Stop for the one.” I am to look into the eyes of the person in front of me, no matter who they are, no matter what they look like or even what they smell like and love them the same way Jesus loves me. And I am to honor them by being friendly and respectful to them. Easier said than done, huh? But the more you practice it, the easier it becomes. “So,” you might ask, “what about people who go against everything I stand for? What if the person in front of me isn’t a Christian? What if that person is Jewish or Buddhist or Hindu or Wiccan? What if they’re an atheist? What if they’re pro-choice? Anti family? Gay or trans or bisexual? How do I love them?” Don Fransisco, a Christian singer songwriter wrote the lyrics, “Love is not a feeling, it’s an act of your will.” That has stuck with me since the first time I heard it. So, to act in charity towards others doesn’t depend on how you feel. You are free to love others even if you don’t like them. When I deal with difficult people outside my faith, I tell myself, “What if I’m the only Christian who treats them with honor and respect? What if no one emulates Christ for them? I might be the only one. If I’m the only one, then I better do a good job! So I love them. I know that the Lord has given me a special gift in my ability to become friends with all kinds of people others might not want to befriend. I notice the quirky in them. (That’s because I’m quirky too.) I find it easy to talk to quirky people. We recognize something in each other and when they realize that I’m reaching out to them they fall easily into conversation. I’m not saying that befriending people with issues is easy but I can say that it yields great rewards! I consider myself to be an eccentric. Other eccentrics seem drawn to me and I have found that they are a wealth of ideas and concepts, who easily join the circle of people I have around me. When someone says something strange or uncouth or just wrong in front of me, I remember how precious they are to Jesus and I accept that they may not be able to be different and if they are, berating them won’t help. But I do stand my ground. A few months ago I was visiting a friend in a nursing home and one of the other residents starting talking badly about a certain ethnic group. I told him he needed to stop but he kept right on, even through the warnings I gave him. After the third warning, I told him I would have to leave if he continued and I stood up. He stopped. When I saw him on later visits, I would smile and say hi. What does it mean to be unoffendable? 1. Take into consideration why a person says what they do. Recognize the Lord loves EVERYONE. 2. Set aside differences. Their morals might be completely different from yours but they are still a human being and because Jesus says so, they are worthy of respect. 3. Think about their eternal future and tell yourself you might be the only Christian they’ll ever meet. 4.You can learn a lot from a quirky person. Take the time to get to know them. 5. Allow yourself to be affected for good in the way an eccentric person relates to you.
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Trudie was an older woman who sometimes attended our church.
She was small and frail, using a walker to get around. She had lived a long life with many ups and downs, but which seemed from the outside, to be mostly downs. Her daughter Natalie, was a regular attender. Natalie became a great friend of mine, sharing a love of making prophetic art. She went with me to Israel in 2016. A lovely, delicate flower of a woman who seemed be having as much trouble in her adulthood as her mother did. But where Trudie had floundered in her faith, her daughter had clung tenaciously to Jesus because she sensed that to lose her relationship with Him would have made her life much, much more painful. Simply put, Natalie trusted Him. Trudie had made a confession of faith years ago but the trauma of her life and the inability to surrender her pain to Jesus meant that she often questioned her faith and how the Lord fit into her life. Trudie passed away last month. Finally able to slip her bonds of pain and trauma, she rests with Jesus now. Her last name was Winters, and she was born on Christmas Day. Last month our church had its usual third Sunday “Prophetic Art” Sunday and I had planned to paint. In our church, two or three artists sit or stand in the front of the church. Our easels and paints are set up and while the worship team creates an atmosphere of warm connection, we paint. Then we give the paintings away to whoever we sense the Lord is asking us to give them to. The week before a Prophetic Art Sunday I start to ask the Lord what he wants me to paint. I keep an open mind and He tells me, pretty pointedly, what He wants me to paint. I may not know until that Sunday who the Lord wants me to give it to. So, a few days before, Jesus told me to paint someone ice skating, with their back to the observer, skating off toward the horizon with trees to one side and a bright sunrise in the sky. But as it turned out, I was sick that morning and didn’t get to participate. I thought I knew who it would be for, though. (I was wrong!) Monday morning I woke up feeling fine and the Lord asked me to please finish the painting. It would have been finished in church the day before it I hadn’t been sick. So I finished it. And when I was just about ready to call it finished, I found out that Natalie’s mom had suddenly stopped breathing, suffered cardiac arrest and was not expected to live. And suddenly I knew that the painting was for Natalie! Trudie passed away on Wednesday. She was the person skating away on the frozen lake in the bright red jacket. (As red as the blood shed for her.) I called the painting, “Trudie’s Home Going.” Right now the painting is hanging in the church, in our special spot to hang prophetic art, but when the time comes to change out the paintings, Natalie knows that one’s for her. For me, the greatest part of this prophetic gift was telling Natalie about it. I was able to show her how much Jesus loves her and her mother and how Trudie skated away to be ever present with the Lord. When we remember who we are and who’s we are, we allow ourselves to be used by the Lord in amazing ways! Peter and I have known each other for more than forty years. The thing that drew us together was folk music. I remember back in 1982, I went to my first Hoot-in-nanny and there he was with his parents. Peter and I were born in the same year. He lives in a nursing home near where I live. He has cerebral palsy and a learning disability. He lived with his parents all of his life, until about 12 years ago when They moved into an assisted living facility. Then he got an apartment through the state. He’s never had a girl friend. For that matter he’s hardly ever had a friend. His family were his whole world. They were cultural Jews, not often participating in religious services, they celebrated both Hanukkah and Christmas, Passover and Easter. Peter is an eccentric, and a genius! He’s also a poet. For as long as I’ve known him he’s carried spiral notebooks filled with his words. Actually, they’re more like lyrics. Because of his love for sea shanties, he often writes lyrics to the Cadence of sea shanties. He has his favorite performers, like Gordon Bok, Ed Trickett and Bill Staines. He often hums the songs he heard them sing. Peter became a born again Christian in the 1990s. I remember the “Hoot” I attended and him proudly showing me his Star of David with the cross in the center. He hasn’t always understood everything that being a Christian means, but he knows what’s most important; Jesus is real. Jesus died for his sins and someday Jesus is coming back. He comes to church with us about once a month and enjoys the Bible studies that happen at the nursing home.
Peter’s parents both escaped Europe during WW11. His father arrived from Germany right before events like Kristallnacht occurred. Peter’s mom arrived in 1942, after having escaped a concentration camp in France. Considering how insanely difficult the quota system was that allowed some Jews in, It’s a miracle they got in! Once here they set themselves up as chicken farmers in rural NJ. They brought their love of folk music with them and there because of their leaning towards communism, they rubbed elbows with such people as Woodie Guthrie and Pete Seeger. Once here they set themselves up as chicken farmers in rural NJ. They brought their love of folk music with them and their because of their leaning towards communism, they rubbed elbows with such people as Woodie Guthrie and Pete Seeger. More good and kind hearted people have never existed! I was blessed to be friends with almost eveyone in the family. Mike was a great singer and player of many instruments. He also wrote songs about living in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Kenny lived in New Hampshire with his family. I met him at family gatherings my husband and I were invited to but I never got to know him. Jackie, the only sister, lives in PA. She loves sheltie dogs and enjoys folk music but doesn’t participate in making music. And then there’s Peter, the baby of the family, born two months premature. Very sadly, both Mike and Kenny passed away from cancer. Peter didn’t do too well living by himself. He’s a diabetic and wasn’t taking care of himself or taking the medication he needed to keep him alive and a few years ago he nearly died. That’s why he lives in the nursing home at the age of 64. It is my privilege to spend time with him every week. We talk about folk music and what he gleans from the sitcoms he watches. Who knew that the “King of Queens” and “Everybody Love Raymond” were such wells of wisdom! At the end of each visit I give him a big hug and I know that’s what he’s really been waiting for. Have you heard the song written and performed by John Prine: “Hello In There?” Do yourself a favor, It’s gorgeous, and might make you shed a tear. Allentown, PA is about a two hour drive from our home Down the Shore. Debbie, a dear friend from high school lives there with her husband, Peter. He’s a Scot. He’s a real Scot, bred and born. Several years ago I noticed that on Debbie’s FB page she’d mentioned being a member of the “Scottish Society of the Lehigh Valley” and that they were throwing a “Robert Burns” dinner at the end of January. Robert Burns was a poet who lived in Scotland back in the 1700s. He was a formidable talent as well as a formidable rake. (Look it up!) He wrote hundreds of poems about love and what a wonderful place Scotland was and he was famous for having done so. But, for all that, he and his wife and children lived mostly in poverty. About 9 years after he passed away, a group of friends got “into their cups” and were reminiscing about their friend and they decided to have a dinner in his honor. And low and behold, people who love Robert Burn’s poetry continue to honor him. The dinner began with a cash bar and moved on to the main event, the presenting of the haggis. Burns wrote a long and vivid poem about haggis. Here it is: Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang ‘s my arm. The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o’ need, While thro’ your pores the dews distil Like amber bead. His knife see Rustic-labour dight, An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin, rich! Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive: Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, Bethankit hums. Is there that owre his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi’ perfect sconner, Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view On sic a dinner? Poor devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as a wither’d rash, His spindle shank a guid whip-lash, His nieve a nit; Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash, O how unfit! But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He’ll make it whissle; An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned, Like taps o’ thrissle. Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care, And dish them out their bill o’ fare, Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer, Gie her a Haggis! For those of you who are uninitiated, haggis is an old and revered dish created for hearty people who worked hard and couldn’t afford better. Here’s the recipe:
Take one sheep stomach, well rinsed. Fill it with oatmeal mixed with organ meats from the above sheep, like heart, lungs, liver kidneys and such. Tie up the incision tightly with twine and place in a boiling pot of water and turn it down to a simmer. Watch the pot so that it doesn’t boil or the sheep stomach might burst open and ruin the haggis. For a 2 lb. Haggis, simmer for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Put it on an attractive plate and have your Scotland Laddie recite the Address to a Haggis! Spoon it up and see what all the fuss is about! I learned a valuable lesson this past weekend. Stay true to yourself I have been told that one of my greatest gifts is that I am me. No matter where I am, no matter whom I’m with, what you see is what you get. I do not don masks. And I love that about me. Let’s play “Find all the mistakes!” How many can you spot? This is the project I worked on for 18 hours this weekend. It measures approximately 12 1/2 inches wide and 11 inches tall. I was invited to a sewing weekend with a group of ladies, most of whom I know from church. Our goal was to complete a wall hanging, that was supposed to be 12x12 inches square, a tote bag and contribute to a quilt that would sold to benefit a local charity.
I never did get started on the tote bag. For me, it seemed like Friday night, all day Saturday and Sunday until noon were a great way to make a mess. It was a lesson in futility. Some of the time my sewing machine worked just fine. But there were long stretches where I wanted to pull my hair out because it stopped working well and I couldn’t figure out why. The fact of the matter is, I'm not a quilter. I do, on occasion use my sewing machine but I've never enjoyed quilting and even though I've tried several times in the past to enjoy it I just haven't. But I did have good times. I knew almost all of the women there. And now I know the women that I didn't know when I got there. There was a lot of love In the room. On Sunday morning we had worship music from Ann, Valerie danced her worship and Chrissy sang a song. What really attracted me to the weekend, beside the fellowship of likeminded, loving women, was the redwood sauna. America's Keswick has a recreation building that houses gym space for sports and a swimming pool with a redwood sauna next to it. Now, having my own redwood sauna is 2nd to the top of the list of my aspirations in life! There is nothing more soothing and relaxing to me that a long lay down in dry room heated to 105*+ and a dip in tepid water afterwards. And I got to enjoy that pleasure two evenings in a row. I hope I get to go to the sewing weekend next year. When I do, I'll bring a special knitting project to work on while the other ladies sew. That's being true to myself and it's also being true and loving to those around me. I'll be much more comfortable as I include myself into a wonderful weekend of creating. https://www.judygoddardart.com/intimacy-with-jesus.html Do you love the outdoors? Do you love places that seem wild and woodsy? Does the Lord's creation fill you with wonder? Do you love to create? In March, 2023 I took a huge leap of faith and signed up for an online course that is teaching me how to be a Destination Retreat Leader. I’ve learned how to create an avatar; a person I imagine that needs exactly what I’ve got to share. The idea is to market to people who share those attributes. People who are in love with God but want to build deeper intimacy with Him. People who are creative and want to include Jesus in their artistic process. People who want to step out in faith and share their gifts with others. I knew when I took this on that it would be challenging, and it has been. But I feel like the time is right. I have things I want to share with others, things that I think are vitally important. I’ve been saving up knowledge for years. Some of you know that I speak openly about there being No Guilt and No Shame in the Kingdom of God. So, I’ve built a retreat syllabus titled, “Intimacy with Jesus Through Prophetic Art.” My intention is to help Christian Creatives come into a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ and learn how to live fearlessly using the gifts He’s given us. The retreat will be held from Thursday evening, September 19 through Sunday evening, September 22 with a departure date of September 23, 2024. The location is Skyland Lodge in Shenandoah National Park, VA. Skyland Lodge is a rustic resort that offers outstanding dining, comfortable accommodations and beautiful opportunities to be outside and experiencing the Lord’s creation. I have a web page dedicated to the retreat. You can find it at https://www.judygoddardart.com/intimacy-with-jesus.html Then, if you have any questions, I’d love to answer them for you. If you’d like we can have a video chat in Messenger, a phone call or a text. I’m really excited about this new adventure in my life! Skyland Lodge is a place I know and love and I want others to know and love it too!
There is a TV show that I’ve been watching since 1970. Every episode is new, but includes footage from previous episodes.
In 1964, when the first episode aired it was called “7 Up.” It’s a documentary. Subsequent episodes have been released every seven years, so the next episode was titled, “14 Up” and aired in 1970. The show focuses on fourteen seven year old children who had agreed to be interviewed once every seven years for the rest of their lives. I had completely forgotten about the project until about two weeks ago. When I googled it, I found that it was streaming on Britbox. The episode I watched last night was filmed in 2019 and was called, “63 Up.” It’s a sociological study of children, taken from a large swath of society in Great Britain. Some of the children were from families from high society. Some were from the working class and two were children whom they had found in a home for boys who’s parents couldn’t or wouldn’t keep them. The main idea was posed in the beginning: “Give me a boy til 7 years old and I’ll show you the man.” But of course, there were girls in the study as well. In every episode that question is asked again. And with the previous footage we can see for ourselves how true that statement became. Some of them seemed to prove that aforism. Of the fourteen, Tony is my favorite. He has always had that “naughty boy” look on his face. At the age of 7 he said he wanted to be jockey and if that didn’t happen, he’d be a taxi driver. He did work with race horses and jockeyed one winner. But it didn’t pan out as a profession so he became a taxi driver. At the age of 63 he had become a property developer and done quite well for himself and his. Family. At 63, two had died and one removed herself from the project. One had struggled so with mental illness that he had spent most of the years homeless or living in low rent boarding houses. it was obvious that he had not reached his seven year old dreams. I would have thought that this man would have dropped out of the program but he didn’t. Maybe there was recompense for his time and inconvenience. But, later in life he found Jesus and now works as a lay person in the Anglican Church and has gained much peace in his life. Almost all of the test subjects married and had children. And most had been divorced. One was dealing with cancer and didn’t expect to live much longer. I take a strange kind of pride in having seen all the episodes relatively near their cyclical debuts. The next episode will be in 2026, when they’ll be 70. I’ll look forward to it. It’ll be like visiting old friends. I imagine that some will have passed and that will be sad. Maybe, after the last participant has passed, someone will start the cycle over at the beginning and people will be able to delve into the sociological attitudes of the next generation. Maybe they’ll film in America. I’ve never quite understood the point of abstract art. I’ve heard it said that when looking at any abstract piece of art you’re not supposed to say what you think it looks like but rather, how it makes you feel. When I stand in front of an abstract painting all I can think of is what it I think it looks like. After that, I can analyze how it makes me feel. Wassily Kandinsky began his life of painting as a representational artist focusing on pastoral scenes. Even still, his representational paintings are quite abstract. He soon made a shift into artworks that were inspired by his devotion to Christian themes. He was a devout Orthodox Christian who included many biblical themes in his art. Born in Moscow on Dec. 16, 1866. He is considered a father of the abstract art movement. He believed the inner life of an artist could be expressed by brilliant colors in geometric patterns. His paintings have been labeled explosive in their design and execution Kandinsky lived with a neurological anomaly known as Synesthesia. His type was Chromosthesia, the ability to see (inwardly) color when hearing music. He tried to present to the world paintings that would explain the connection between music and color, as he experienced it. In Munich, Kandinsky was accepted into a prestigious private painting school and moved on to the Munich Academy of Arts. But much of his study was self-directed. He began with conventional themes and art forms, but all the while he was forming theories derived from devoted spiritual study and informed by an intense relationship between music and color. These theories coalesced through the first decade of the 20th century, leading him toward his ultimate status as the father of abstract art The Last Judgement For Wassily, paintings became more about the emotions colors evoked than a depiction of subject matter. Kandinsky was also considered an “art theorist” He believed that different colors create different moods within the human brain. For example: Red is an energetic color and those who see red feel more alive and focused. Blue brings up moods that dwell in our innermost places and is associated with supernatural thoughts. White is a cool, calm place just waiting for possibilities. In the following quote you can begin to understand how important linking color to music really was. “The sun melts all of Moscow down to a single spot that, like a mad tuba, starts all of the heart and all of the soul vibrating. But no, this uniformity of red is not the most beautiful hour. It is only the final chord of a symphony that takes every colour to the zenith of life that, like the fortissimo of a great orchestra, is both compelled and allowed by Moscow to ring out.” Creation Wassily was married twice and had a lover for ten years in between the two. Kandinsky worked for many years in as an instructor for the Bauhaus but eventually pressure from the Nazis chased the Bauhaus out of Germany in 1932. It was dissolved in 1933 and he moved to Paris. Wassily Kandinsky died in France in 1944, at the age of 77. His death was caused by cerebrovascular disease, a grouping of symptoms related to not enough blood flow to the brain. Kandinsky had one son, Vsevolod, who seems to have had an unremarkable life. His parents divorced when he was five years old and he was raised by his aunt and his father. This was the only information that I could find. How you do feel about a link between color and music? Have you ever experienced anything like Chromothesia? How do different colors influence your mood?
Leave a comment. I'd love to know! Our backyard In the year of 1996 my husband and I began looking for a new place to live. We had been in living in a suburban neighborhood for 10 years. We promised ourselves that we would be out that community within 4 years.\
My husband is an only child and when his parents passed on, less than a year apart, he inherited $150,000.00. We knew we wanted land. I can remember giving the Lord my wish list. It had to have a full basement, a front porch, a fireplace and most importantly, it had to be big enough for us to own a horse. We looked at a couple of places and did a little dreaming about each one of them, but our heart was already set on 16 acres of land that we had lived on when we first moved to Ocean County, NJ back in 1983. It was a mostly forested piece of land with 3 houses on it. It was owned by close family friends who had rented us the largest of the three houses. We lived there for 3 years before we decided that it was time to buy our first house. Ten years later, the sixteen acres went on the market. We didn’t think we could afford it. But it just kept nibbling at the back of our minds. So we went to see our financial advisor. He was also a trusted friend and we told us he thought we could make it happen we decided to go for it! We were the second people to make a bid on the property. A local business had put in a bid of $205,000.00. We didn’t know it at the time that we put our bid down. We offered $200,000.00 with a downpayment of $150,000.00, then entire amount of my husband’s inheritance. And we got it! It’s the most wonderful place in the whole world! Since most of the property is wooded, we set ourselves up with the NJ Forestry Stewardship Program, promising to keep our little forest clean by cutting only dead, downed, dying, damaged or dangerous trees. (AKA: the 5 Ds of forestry management. What we cut and sold could be used for farm tax assessment and we kept the woods in good condition for the natural habit that lives there. To me, 16 acres doesn’t sound so big, but the amount and varied wildlife is the best part of owning this place! We’ve had everything from squirrels and rabbits to deer and foxes. We’ve had turkeys and bats and so many different kinds of birds that we lose track! We’ve even had coyotes and although we haven’t seen one yet, we expect to see a bear anyway now. A man took a photo of a fisher-cat on the property next door to us. We haven’t seen him but I bet we’ve heard him a time or two. We do hear the owls! We’ve seen and heard a barred owl and heard but not seen a screech owl and a great horned owl. And we’ve had not “a” horse, but 5 horses! And 6 goats, a plethora of chickens and assorted inside animals. There is not place we would ever want to live! And we truly see it as a gift from God. We joke about the day we signed the contract. It was as if we could hear Jesus giggling. It had rained all the day but in the late afternoon the sun came out and we saw a rainbow. We knew we had made the right decision. Now, after 25 years of working hard to keep this place, we have finally paid the mortgage off and it’s ours, all ours! Very often we ride up the drive or look out a window or stand in the middle of one our fields and we can’t believe how blessed we are and how loved by God we feel. I have this friend named Phil Wyman. He entered Heaven back in May, 2023 but I only found out today. Phil told me that he had been pastor of a church in Salem, MA and when he began to reach out to the pagan population in Salem his overseers in the hierarchy of the denomination became concerned about his unconventional ways and eventually asked him to leave. He left that denomination but he didn’t leave Salem. He had a small body of believers that he fellowshipped with and he continued his work with the pagan population. I found out about Phil when I was doing research on the “Burning Man” festival held in NV every summer. I’ve long had a desire to go and be a witness of the Lord’s love in that particular place. As it turned out, he wasn’t going to Burning Man that year but he invited me to join him in Salem in October to do street ministry. Every weekend in October there’s a festival in Salam. People dress up. Street performers line the main avenue and perform for tips. Large crowds come out every year just to be in Salem during Halloween season. He asked me if I would like to come for the weekend and do some street ministry with him and I said, “Sure!” I arrived after dark and stayed at his house. The next morning we donned brown costume monk’s robes and walked down to the main street. We joined the street performers and help up signs that said, “ Hug A Monk” and “Hug A Nun” For hours we stood and gave big hugs to anyone who wanted one. Everyone who lined up was really happy to have a big warm hug! It was awesome! And I got to love on people while not scaring them away with a lot of words about salvation and judgement. And that was the point. Actions speak louder than words and anytime I get to be Jesus to someone I call it a win. It was an awesome day! You see, Phil believed in building relationships. He thought, how useful is it to tell someone about Jesus and then never see them again? The pagan people he knew in Salem had known him for years and had seen his consistency in words and actions. They knew he was a Christian and they knew that he loved them and appreciated their qualities of “otherness.” During the summer time, he traveled to Great Britain and worked the festivals there. He would show up and help with set up and sound and anything else he could do for them, including music reciting poetry. In the evenings he sat with them around their fires and listened and commented. His faith would come up and he was open about his life with Jesus, but he did not preach. He simply contributed to the discussion. He wanted his actions to speak his truth, not his words. He knew that many people who turn to paganism do so because they have been seriously burned by practitioners of Christianity. He was a very unusual man, dedicated to Jesus and a lover of all people everywhere, regardless of their faith or creed. Sikh and you shall find? That weekend in Salem is the only time I spent with him. But right away I could tell that we were kindred spirits. I listened to his blog and followed his exploits on Facebook. I would often comment and he always responded. Last year he felt that the Lord was calling him to live in Wales. He’d been there several times and really loved the landscape, the people and the language. He went pretty much broke. He knew he would be ok for the summer because he would travel from festival to festival and there he would find food and lodging. But as the season changed from summer to fall he found it difficult to find a place to live. He did eventually find a place but I knew he struggled financially. He decided that the next year, he would travel all through Wales, speaking and writing only in Welsh. When his posts popped up in Welsh I would answer in Welsh. (Thank you Google Translate!) Last summer he fell off my radar. I wasn’t seeing his posts. I prayed for him as he came to mind. Last month I sent him an email but I didn’t get one back.
Then, today I decided to check out his Facebook page and found out that he had passed. But I’m not sad. A little nostalgic maybe. But he lived his life well and I know that when he came through those pearly gates Jesus greeted him with, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (In Welsh!) |
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