Roger's Thoughts

Earth Travails

2011-03-17T05:30:00.000-07:00

I don't presume to know a fraction of what the citizens of Japan are experiencing. I do however, see the marks of this broken world and the similarities of devastation that I have seen in other people and myself. What would we do if it happened here? What would you depend on if all that you've known was gone? What "unshakables" do you stake your life on?

To the people of Japan........

What do you do

What do you do when your world starts shaking

What do you do when your ground is quaking

When all you’ve ever trusted is gone

You look around, and you’re all alone

Waves giving chase like a sea of sin

Tracking me down with an evil grin

You can run for the hills but you just can’t hide

Abducted by hell, you’re along for the ride

Nature lays claim to the place of my birth

And swallows my home to the bowels of the earth

Oceans, like a glutton gorging on folks

Then belching them back all shattered and broke

Now family is scattered around like trash

Look, all that I’ve loved is just a heap of ash

Chaos and wreckage and fear and pain

What devil do I curse what demon’s to blame

Now there’s grief in my chest like a load of stones

Crushing me down and breaking my bones

My heart is clenched as I beat the ground

The pain is so loud I can’t hear a sound.

There’s got to be a firm foundation

There has to be some solid ground

Something that I can hold on tight to

When me and my faith’s about to drown

So what do you do when your world starts shaking

What do you do when the ground is quaking

What do you do when all you’ve trusted is gone

When you look around and you’re all alone

Flight Of The Wild Goose

2011-01-30T18:04:00.000-08:00

An artist friend and carpenter extraordinaire, Doug, recently carved this goose for a gift. We have always liked the idea of the Celtic Christians' alleged Gaelic name for the Holy Spirit–An Geadh-Glas, which means the ‘Goose Gray’ or ‘the Wild Goose.’ Mark Batterson writes, "The name hints at mystery. Much like a wild goose, the Spirit of God cannot be tracked or tamed. An element of danger, an air of unpredictability surround Him. And while the name may sound a little sacrilegious, I cannot think of a better description of what it’s like to follow the Spirit through life."

A day or two after I saw Doug's finished art I was working outside and several skeins of geese flew over. I think I was directly under a busy flight path because they just kept flying over. Their honks and calls as they flew overhead sounded like they were beckoning to join. A few lines came to me but my hands were full and I didn't have a pen handy so I didn't get a chance to write anything down until late that evening. These verses kept coming to mind while writing this poem ....

O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past tracing out! Romans 11:33

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith Jehovah.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9

Enjoy.

Flight of the Wild Goose

Have you yearned….

To leave the shackles of this sod

And mount with wings of grace the autumn breeze

To follow ancient paths above

Where unseen angels trod

To quit the crowded way below

And ride the wind with ease

Then follow the wild goose, if you dare

Follow the wild goose yon

Have you dreamed….

Of soaring ‘cross the gilded skies

Exploring clouds of every form and hue

Caring not from whence you’ve come

Forgetting earthly ties

Of knowing not whither you’ll land

But trusting a guide that’s true

Then follow the wild goose, if you dare

Follow the wild goose on

Have you hoped….

For warmer days and meadows green

And crystal water near the tree of life

Come join the cadence of this flight

To distant, joyful, scene

Why die here in this barren place

While fields beyond are rife

Just follow the wild goose, if you dare

Follow the wild goose home

Mystery

2011-01-30T17:31:00.000-08:00

I wrote this a few days ago after a friend challenged me to compose something based on some of our conversations. That was a new experience. I told him that I didn't work well under the pressure of being asked to write poetry about a particular subject or idea. Usually I write to help process my thoughts or feelings and it is without pressure because if I don't care for it I don't have to share it. I did give it a try however, so here it is.

This came from our thoughts and conversations around Advent. The whole idea that the prophecy of Isaiah concerning the Davidic lineage of the Messiah hinged on Joseph doing his part in adopting Jesus just amazes me. An old Roman/Syrian law book states that a parent could disown their biological child but could not disown an adopted child. That puts the adoption of Jesus and the legal lineage from Joseph to Jesus in a whole new light for me. I had also just read the "hall of Faith" from Hebrews 11, so the brokenness and poverty of spirit of those highlighted in that chapter was in my thoughts. Still not sure what to name this poem. The current title is a tentative one. Any ideas would be welcome.

Mystery

Why would you place the hope of the world

Into the womb of a peasant girl

To nurse and teach, to tuck in bed

Our only hope, the sacred head

What if she fails and spoils your plan

Of saving the world and the souls of man

Why would you trust her with a will that’s free

And take a chance with one of the three

Why would you risk your only son

To be adopted by a father of none

A man without riches and a limited skill

Why trust him to do your will

And what about David with his pedigree

His sins were many, but I’ll name just three

He murdered and lied and stole a wife

Still you choose this man for the lineage of life

And why entrust this broken man

With a part to play in your master plan

Why give a convict the keys to the store

Or showcase with honor, the faith of a whore

Why trust the telling of news so good

To men who still nail you on a cross of wood

Who warm their hands in the fiery glow

And swear that it’s you, it’s you they don’t know

Why were you born as a babe so weak

Into our brokenness and a world so bleak

Why use a pallet of sin and shame

To paint the glory of the God who came

Your ways are not mine of that I’m sure

I’m learning of mercy and a grace so pure

This poverty that I’ve run from and tried to flee

Is only a gift from a child to me

Solitude

2009-05-17T12:31:00.000-07:00

To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude, 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel and to possess,
And roam alone, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!

Lord George Gordon Byron
from "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage"

I always enjoy the quiet "solitude" of being in the woods
alone. It's a peaceful, joyful solitude that gives plenty
of time for undisturbed thought. Distractedness, busyness,
a lack of this type of solitude is one of the cancers of
our society. I believe it's one of the greatest hindrances
to our spiritual growth and a deepening of our relationship
with our Creator .

The second stanza of this poem, however, describes a dark,
hopeless and depressing solitude. An isolation that comes from
a lack of family or community. We were created with a need
for relationship and usually suffer tremendously when real,
meaningful relationships are absent.

Empty Hands

2008-10-06T11:17:00.001-07:00

I saw him on the streets alone
A boy so young with playful spirit gone
He looks up with hollow eyes and empty hands
And deep inside an aching soul prays to God for numbness

I watched her sitting in the dirt
A girl so young, with fear on every feature
She waits with head bowed low and empty hands
And a father dies a thousand deaths begging now for answers

They’re all around us, seen or not
They’re sick and cold, they’re poor and weak
With feigned mirth we try to ignore their empty hands
And stack our possessions high enough to block them from our view

Notice now with focused intent
It’s your child, your brother, maybe even your God
Powerless, hungry, with empty hands, I pray not for long
Our laden hands were made not just to have and to hold but to give
Roger Patterson

Faith drew this picture this weekend of one of the orphan boy's hands. She plans to put it in the upcoming auction. Watching her draw stirred up my feeble attempt in the above verses to express my thoughts and memory of the kids in Lesotho.

on your belly you will crawl...

2008-09-14T19:36:00.000-07:00

Faith and I took a long walk in the woods today. It was good to just get away and walk for a few hours and talk. Along the way we stopped several times to pick the last of the muscadines, one of Faith's weaknesses. We also found persimmons and a blue berry that wasn't a blueberry. Haven't identified it yet but it looks similar to a sloe berry. Anyway, while reaching for some just out of reach muscadines, I heard a little warning from this fellow in the picture. He was only a couple feet away. Btw, did you know that many different types of snakes will vibrate or rattle their tail when threatened? This copperhead was shaking his tail so hard that Faith thought it was a rattler from her position of about 30 feet away. Usually a copperhead won't give a warning before striking. Thankfully this one did. I bent down close enough to take his portrait before moving on to a vine that hadn't already been claimed.

The dignity of labor

2008-09-02T20:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Loy for posting this old verse by William Arthur Dunkerley, or John Oxenham, as was his pen name. I've read several poems of his this evening since you referenced him and have really enjoyed it. Thought I would post it again here.

All labor gained new dignity
since he who all creation made
toiled with his hands for daily bread
right manfully.

No work is commonplace, if all
be done as unto him alone;
life's simplest toil to him is known
who knoweth all.

Each smallest common thing he makes
serves him with its minutest part;
man only with his wand'ring heart
his way forsakes.

His service is life's highest joy,
it yields fair fruit a hundred fold:
be this our prayer--"Not fame, nor gold,
but--thine employ!"

This next one by Oxenham reminds me of my granddad who ceased his earthly labors this past Feb after 92 years. He was very skilled with his hands even while up in years. He was a farmer, a carpenter, a lover of scripture and a Godly man. I include this picture of him that dad took a year or two ago.

AFTER WORK
Lord, when Thou seest that my work is done,
Let me not linger on,
With failing powers,
Adown the weary hours,--
A workless worker in a world of work.
But, with a word,
Just bid me home,
And I will come
Right gladly,--
Yea, right gladly
Will I come.

Summer hunts and nuisance animals

2008-08-28T19:22:00.001-07:00

Picture of 8-1/2' gator from our last hunt in Georgia. He was quiet a fighter and very tasty. We used a bow first which appeared to make him very angry. Then a homemade harpoon which you can see in the picture, ( the reason it is in his side is that when I tried to spear him he saw the movement and rolled). Then once we had him contained and tied to the boat a .45 round to the head finished the job. This year I signed up for the permit lottery and got a gator hunting tag (one of only 40 for the area) for this season in Alabama. The state has just recently opened up a season due to rapidly increasing numbers and I felt obligated to try to help eradicate and manage this growing problem :) The hunt was last weekend at lake Eufaula and we only got one night of hunting in before hurricane Fay messed things up. There were huge swells in the main channel but we were able to hunt back up in the sloughs and creeks. We saw plenty of gators but none large enough to excite me. I wanted one larger than last time. The next day was raining like, well, like the remnants of a hurricane, so we packed up and came home. Maybe next year.

Another nuisance animal here in this state is the wild or feral hogs. A buddy and I really enjoy smoked pork and being the outstanding southern citizens that we are, we try to do our part in eradicating this problem animal from prime deer hunting habitat. Yesterday we had to go to Camden, AL to put up a couple of shooting houses so we decided to take the dogs and get in a hog hunt while we were there. We finished the shooting houses about 4 p.m. and started hunting the swampy woods near the Alabama river. Within an hour the dogs had a good size hog bayed. We ran through the briers and undergrowth and couldn’t see the pig until it was within ten feet due to the thickness of the brush. That’s not a good thing with such a mean animal that loves to attack and is very capable of killing a dog or working his way up a man's leg like it was corn on the cob. Anyway, I grabbed the back legs and flipped it over and my buddy stuck him with the knife. The next morning we got another one and had just dispatched it and was catching our breath before skinning it out, when a small boar came charging in amongst us. A Jerry Clower joke came to mind. It ran a circle or two and literally ran between my legs. I jumped too early trying to keep from getting hit and when I landed it brushed both legs, which greatly amused the guys. Anyway the dogs stopped it long enough for us to catch a back leg.

We saw 5 snakes in the woods today alone. One was a rattler as big as my forearm and about 4’ long. Hank did his impersonation of Steve Irwin by grabbing him and pulling him back into the path so we could get a better look at him. May I take this opportunity to remind him of Steve’s ill-fated demise. Mr. no shoulders deserves to be shot not played with.

Nature

2008-08-02T15:29:00.000-07:00

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Lord Byron

Ran across this poem recently on another blog and enjoyed it, so thought I would share it.

Did you spot the gobbler in the picture? This was a hunt from last year. I can't wait for the summer heat to be over and deer season to be here. To be waiting in the quiet darkness for the woods to wake up and the hunt to begin. There's always more time for quiet contemplation and silent worship on the fall hunt. During the summer it's a good bit different. Just got back from another wild boar hunt today and I love the noise, the dogs, the adrenaline, the expectation of becoming the chased instead of the chaser, but I always look forward to the return of the still, reflective time on a winter hunt.

I saw what I saw.......

2008-07-14T16:58:00.000-07:00

What you know is a powerful weapon!

Pain, Hope and Tony Snow

2008-07-12T17:49:00.000-07:00

Tony Snow, who died today, said some thought provoking things in a recent Christianity Today article about what he was learning from his terminal disease. He says, "There's nothing wilder than a life of humble virtue—for it is through selflessness and service that God wrings from our bodies and spirits the most we ever could give, the most we ever could offer, and the most we ever could do......... God bids us to choose: Do we believe, or do we not? Will we be bold enough to love, daring enough to serve, humble enough to submit, and strong enough to acknowledge our limitations? Can we surrender our concern in things that don't matter so that we might devote our remaining days to things that do?"

I guess those statements mirror what I want to learn and the way I want to live. I guess what I'm saying is that I want to come to these decisions before staring my immortality in the face. To "live like I was dying," as the song goes. To have a sense of urgency now without there having to be a personal catastrophe to realign my focus and priorities. Working with our orphan project has been an experience that has produced a lot of emotions and a great deal of contemplation and soul searching. I wrote this poem in honor of the children of Lesotho, Africa who continue to sing in spite of incredible pain and grief. May we all do our part to be God's hands and feet and bring His love to "the least of these."

Pain and Hope

Amidst the sorrow of this world

Where pain and fear abound
A groaning rises from the earth
The stench of death surrounds

And as the darkness presses near
with evil cold intent
Its violent chant from masses stir
A hopeless loud lament

Were this the only music heard
How quick would I despair
Yet faintly now from distant land
A hymn of beauty rare

My spirit would be swallowed up
And quenched of all its life
but for God’s song sustaining me
transcending grief and strife

I hear children singing of the day
When sorrows all will pass
No wars nor pain nor sin nor death
but peace will reign at last

The former things are gone away
He makes all things anew
Uninterrupted then will be
Our union deep and true

His song of hope I’ll sing ‘till then
Until all nations know
The Lord of Hosts soon marches forth
Defeating every foe

Though we stand now in the shadows
We strike a confident tune
And sing aloud while war surrounds
“The dawn’s approaching soon”

Roger Patterson

Paradox

2007-09-12T20:36:00.000-07:00

Many guys have trouble laying down the masks that hide their weaknesses and vulnerabilities and consequently never receive deep transformation. The freedom that comes by being transparent with who we really are (the good, bad and the ugly) is worth the risks involved. The lies of the enemy and our pride keep men in the bondage of isolation and the darkness of not being fully known and so never receive all that our Creator intended for us. 1st John says :

"This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 6 If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. 7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all [Or every] sin.

So, walk into the light. Whatever that requires. Usually it requires the death of the poser or false self, which we fight to protect with the fiercest of survival instincts. But as we experience death in those broken areas new life springs forth. Matthew 16:25 says it like this:

"For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.

You'll never receive God's more
Until you bring Him your less

You'll never live in His strength
Until you're willing to live in your weakness

If you long to experience God's wholeness
Then walk with Him into your brokenness

If you've places that desperately need His life
Then embrace the necessary death

Roger Patterson

Road To Healing

2007-09-12T20:30:00.000-07:00

A crossroad, a fork, two paths on the way

In silence I ponder, which road to walk today

The first one looks easy, it's paved and it's wide
I can see a great distance, see clearly each side

The other is rocky, climbs steeply then turns
Its edges are tangled, looks dangerous and stern

This decision should be easy, the paved road is safe
I won’t need my heart, a guide or my faith

But something is calling, I feel my heart burn
Just wish I could see what’s around that first turn

But this fluttering excitement, this call to the unknown
Would surely just vanish if clarity was shown

So I turn and I climb, sense pain and smell strife
Still I hear His quiet whisper, “This road leads to life.”

Roger Patterson

When the war is over.......

2007-07-18T00:27:00.000-07:00

I want to enter heaven with an ugly shield

Not something I’ve polished but something I wield

Muddy, bloody, battered and worn

Telling of battles, of an enemy I scorn

I’ve seen restless braves with shiny, new gear

Watched soldiers stay home saying "the enemy's not here"

One thing I know, there is no regret

As an old warrior smiles through the blood and the sweat

So hopefully I’ll finish with clothes that are torn

With scars that tell stories of brothers I’ve borne

And when I get home, when the King says I’m through

He’ll know I fought hard, not just sat in a pew

Roger Patterson

This came out of our men's group again. Every time we meet lately it seems something poetic begins to stir in my heart. I'm not sure what's up with that. Randy, this one came from the old turtle story. Guys it's an honor to fight along side you, shoulder to shoulder. One more thought; you only need armor if you plan to actually enter the fight, if you plan to head for the front lines. Armor isn’t necessary if you're not planning to fight but just want to enter the parade in your starched dress blues (or whites) because you're enamored with a uniform or a title.

Ephesians 6:10-18
10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.
11 Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes.
12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.
14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,
15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.
16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.
17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.

Undone

2007-07-03T23:15:00.000-07:00

There has been a theme in my life of careful control. Especially when experiencing the reality of sorrow or pain like I experienced in Lesotho. I know it's o.k. to express grief or to openly weep. It's just not something I'm completely comfortable with and something I try forcefully to control. Each day we were there whether I was speaking or working or praying with the sick or helping feed the orphans, I tried to maintain composure. This is what I heard myself agree to; "I must not draw attention to myself, I must put my feelings on hold and check my emotions at the door, there is a job to do." But what was sacrificed in not feeling the full weight of emotion in that moment? Not being fully present? I'm not sure, but I know that each night while alone, I crashed. My prayers were huge sobbing questions saturated with the pain of living in a fallen world, a world at war.

Tonight in my mens group we discussed the false identities and restrictions put on the masculine soul by culture, generations and by sin. God created me not only with a protective, warrior like fierceness but a deep compassionate tender heart. So this is a prayer to be complete and comfortable with who I am.

I've walked this way willingly numb
Staring without really seeing
Acknowledging without really feeling
Afraid of what that might bring
Afraid of what it could mean

I've had a glimpse of what it was like
To see and feel without protection
To know and be without perfection
Helpless without control
Undone and so alone

I ask You now for healing change
To see without the shades
To feel without the filters
Naked before Your throne
Undone but never alone

Roger Patterson

The Bana Project Of Lesotho Africa

2007-07-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

Join us at www.Logosglobalministries.com to learn about how you can join us in feeding and caring for children in Lesotho who are orphaned due to the aids pandemic.

Click on the 2 dollars a day link to see how you can give in a way that doesn't take more money out of your budget but will cost you something.

Right now there is a boy who is now my friend who is enduring below freezing temperatures at night and one meal a day if he's fortunate enough to eat at all. His name is Thabo and he is 14. He lost his dad when he was very young and lost his mother 2 years ago. He hasn't attended school since his mom died. He lives alone and spends his days trying to survive.

Surviving for Thabo isn't just about physically making it each day but about having hope and the desire to continue when things just seem to get worse. It's natural to have a fatalistic world view when your whole life experience since birth includes pain disease and early death. Ironically, his name means happiness in Sesotho, but the few moments I spent with Thabo recently in Maseru were filled with just the opposite. The deep hollow sadness in his eyes has haunted me every day since I've returned. His story is repeated thousands of times over in this tiny country. Over 180,000 times as a matter of fact, in a country of around 2 million people.

Maybe your not in a place where you can help us monetarily, that's o.k. But does his story touch you? Do you identify in any way with the level of loneliness he must feel, or the desperation or sorrow he lives with every day. What if Thabo was your son? Would that change your perception of your ability to help?

I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, just want to help you experience reality beyond your own neighborhood. There is a weight of responsibility we (Christians) have of not just telling about the love of Christ but of showing the love of Christ. We must be willing to show first, then comes many opportunities for that message of hope to be heard.

Facade

2007-07-01T17:15:00.000-07:00

I went to a great cathedral today and it seemed that all was grand

The sights and sounds inspired awe in me from the windows to the band

There were smiles on all the faces, rings on all the hands

It seemed these folks were rich indeed, judging by all the brands

And while enthralled by splendor and lulled by words of peace

I heard a sound like thunder and felt winds that did increase

The great walls shook the chandeliers danced the choir began to cry

And in the back I heard a voice scream “were all about to die”

The cathedral that once was stately began to crumble and fall

Revealing walls of paper and masks that were worn by all

The place where once the vicar stood was now a puff of smoke

And in the floor lay filthy rags where should have been his cloak

Once the dust had settled and smoke had cleared the air

The folks stood blinking at the light that now could shine down fair

They looked without at all the poor and of themselves did give

And I heard a voice cry while running out, “we’ve just begun to live”

Roger Patterson

BEFORE THE THRONE OF GOD ABOVE

2006-07-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, here's another song that's worth posting about. This is excellent hymn writing, with a depth of theology that makes worship come easily. There seems to be a resurgence in popularity of rich hymns among christians. Maybe the flood of cheesy non-scriptural songs will be diminished when folks get a load of this. The words were written in 1863 by Charitie Lees Smith Bancroft, an Irish lass from Dublin. Sonic Flood as well as Selah have recorded it if you would like to check it out.

Before the throne of God above,
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great High Priest whose name is “Love,”
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart;
I know that while in heav’n He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair,
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.
To look on Him and pardon me

Behold Him there! the risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless Righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace!
One with Himself I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood;
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ my Savior and my God
With Christ my Savior and my God.

Charite Lees Bancroft, Vikki Cook © 1997.

Wild Man

2005-11-11T12:48:00.000-08:00

This is the equivalent to name dropping, I'm JPEG dropping.

Freedom

2005-08-27T16:14:00.000-07:00

Recently, I took a hike with my family down a local trail through some of the most beautiful forest the south has to offer. It was a perfect summer day with 95-degree heat and plenty of ticks to go around. In the background noise of birds chirping and the rush of a nearby mountain stream was also the distant sound of cannon and musket fire. No, we hadn't taken a trip back in time. A local civil war re-enactment group was having their annual Memorial Day exhibition only a mile or so through the woods from where we hiked. So it was a bit surreal when we happened on an old slave cemetery dating back to the 1800's, that up to this point , I had no clue was even there. Most of the stone markers had no writing on them, just a stone that was found nearby and partially buried upright in the ground.

I found myself thinking about freedom and how much it costs. We’ve all heard the cliché that “freedom isn’t free”. However, many people who are in bondage, spiritually or otherwise, never get past the blinders of their normal every day existence to see themselves as lacking freedom. They are so immersed in an attitude of slavery that they can't imagine or envision freedom; much less consider its price.

What dire circumstances did these slaves endure? Surely they had the dreams of freedom that are so inherent in the human spirit. Did they have opportunity to escape at times but lack the courage to implement a plan? Did they have no hope of escape without the outside intervention of a liberator? Were there some, like ourselves, who had grown comfortable with their identity of slavery even in the midst of extreme hardships? I don't mean to offend but physical slavery has a lot of similarities to spiritual slavery than I have previously thought.

I know every one of us have had moments of fear and hesitation when faced with the possibility of a leap of faith that would mean freedom. Many people live their lives afraid to take that crucial step of faith and sacrifice that is so necessary to lay hold of freedom. It’s as if they are afraid to look at themselves through the eyes of hope and see their new identity. They are afraid to see what God intended them to be and to accomplish. It’s as if they can’t handle the despair that would surely come if they see the possibilities but don’t achieve it.

A similar story is told in one of Jesus’ parables about the servants who were each given a sum of money. The one deemed unfaithful was the one who, out of fear, chose not to act. Not only that, but he blamed the master for his lack of courage. Have we lived our lives like the unfaithful servant? Have we done with the Gospel what the servant did with his one talent?

One sad but true reality is non-Christians aren't the only ones in need of a liberator. The average Christian is often living in a prison of their own making. The following verses from a poem that I ran across illustrate what I mean.

And in this world he found unkind
He built a wall around his mind
And every year he'd add new parts
Until it had enclosed his heart
He kept his job and paid his debts
As he slowly became a silhouette
of a man walking among the tombs
while living his life within his wounds.
(lyrics from The Lost Christmas Eve - Trans Siberian Orchestra)

We don’t have to live like that! That is the good news of the gospel! Jesus Christ said that He came to seek and to save that which was lost. He came to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound. He says that He came that we may have life and that more abundantly. When is the last time you approached someone with THAT message of the gospel? No wonder we walk around like spiritual pansies, we obviously don’t believe it. We don’t seem to have experienced that so why tell someone else?

I am not talking about abundant life that some prosperity pushers speak of. I am talking of an abundant life that God promises when we die to self and sell out to the Kingdom. The divine paradox is that true freedom is only found in complete subjection and servanthood to Jesus Christ. There is an adventure to walking with Christ that is full of hardships but abounding in freedom and fulfillment. Just ask Paul the Apostle or Martin Luther.

What we must understand is that we have a real adversary that stands between ourselves and true spiritual freedom. Jesus says that this adversary is a thief that comes to steal, kill and destroy. He does not want this world to experience something that he is banished from.

If we have a real enemy, then it follows that it is necessary to fight and defend against that enemy. Like the weak king Theoden in The Lord of the Rings, we have often said “we cannot risk open war.” Aragorn’s response is “risk it or not, open war is upon you.” So, we must fight. We must be actively engaged in this battle.

God, free us from superficial religion and show us the power of walking in the Spirit.

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
Albert Camus