Pickle Heaven Press-James R. Johnson

something to help you laugh and think about life with Christ

Author: pickleheavenpress

I have served as a pastor in East Texas for 32 years and it is my delight to continue my ministry online
green stamp hope — August 7, 2019

green stamp hope

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james ray johnson

Mom had her hope set on a plastic plant that was rooted in Styrofoam, surrounded by 8 cedar planks and bound by brass bands.  Back in the 50’s this was considered to be attractive! 

My dad worked awfully hard, often 2 jobs, but money always seemed to be tight.  We were not poor, but we were the next thing to it.  We couldn’t afford such an item, but mom had a plan. 

Each week, the grocer gave her S&H Green Stamps in proportion to what she spent on groceries.  With 5 kids to feed, that was a lot of brown paper bags full.  One day she gathered her stamps and drafted us kids to fill her redemption books.  We licked ourselves silly.

Then all 7 of us jumped into our 56 Chevy wagon and headed to the redemption center where mom traded her green stamps for her heart’s desire – one cedar planter. 

She was happy!  She finally had some “nice” in the midst of the drab.  She proudly placed it in the living room for all to see and she really enjoyed it – for most of one day.  

See we were a wrestling bunch.  We kids liked to mix it up with dad on the floor.   Well he flipped one of us the wrong direction and crash went the planter.  It was flatter than mom’s expression when she saw it.   

She held her tongue while dad got out the tool box, with which he was known to do wondrous things.  He once took a bicycle kickstand and refashioned it into a car gear shifter.  So he used his screws and glues and the planter was restored.  Sure, there was a chipped board and a dangling leaf, but it was still sorta nice.

Days later, another kid planted themselves on the planter.   Dad worked his magic again, but it looked – well – it was looking more like the décor of the Frankenstein household.   Mom was a saint.  She said nothing. 

The cataclysmic cycle was repeated yet again.  Mom was living the sequel to the movie Groundhog Day.

And then – a fourth crash.  But this time, mom got to the wreckage before dad and she stomped it into cedar splinters and plastic plant pulp.  She wasn’t going to leave anything that dad could possibly resurrect. 

Her hope of having something nice died with that last crash.  She could hope no more.

Hope sometimes dies!

He hoped to get promoted at work.  He gave it his best, but 5 years later he was still lodged in the same cramped cubicle.  He quit trying and settled into 8 hours a day of apathy.

She was a writer who hoped to get her novel published.  It wasn’t!  After 56 letters of rejection, she threw her manuscript in the burn pile.

A young man hoped for years that his inattentive wife might change.  She wouldn’t!  He eventually stomped on that hope when he left her for another. 

Oh, for a hope that will not disappoint!   

Oh, but there is such a hope!

Titus 1:2 speaks of the “hope of eternal life, which God, who does not lie, promised before time began.”   NET Bible®   Eternal life is a never ending, blissfully, sweet existence in the company of Jesus and all our friends and family who have ever loved Him. 

According to the verse, God promised this eternal life before time began.  And since God is all knowing and all powerful and because He cannot lie, then we can count on it.

This hope will never disappoint. It is possessed only by those who have trusted Christ to remove their sins.

It’s ironic that the cedar wood in mom’s planter is valued for its ability to resist rot and insect damage.  Yet, it can’t begin to compare to the durability of our eternal hope.

Mom gave up on her prized planter, but she has held fast to the hope of eternal life.  She has passed on and is now enjoying that hope that will never be broken or even lamely patched.

My dad is trying his best to join her.  Any day now, he too will enter that place of sweet eternal hope.  But for mom’s sake, I hope he leaves his tool box behind.  

when does a dead man count? — July 31, 2019

when does a dead man count?

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james ray johnson

7/3/2019:  Highway Patrol Trooper Travis Smaka was on the Interstate near Las Vegas when he noticed a car in the HOV lane with a solo driver.  He stopped the Chrysler minivan and informed him that he was getting a ticket because he was one person short to be using the HOV lane.

The driver reported that he was not alone.  There was another person in the back of the van.    Upon peering inside, the trooper found that the van was equipped as a hearse, with a rail and a gurney and even a deceased person.

The driver asked, “So, he doesn’t count?” 

Hmm…I wonder how else this guy used his cadaver?  Maybe he took him to Sunday School to win the prize for “Bring a Friend Day?”  (If anybody ever needed Jesus – his horizontal friend did).  Maybe he took him to the bank to co-sign for his car loan.  Surely the “stiff” came in handy at the company picnic when he needed a partner for the three-legged race!  

Alas, Officer Smaka burst his bubble.  He said, “No he doesn’t count.”

That’s no surprise, BUT if you were to ask Jesus, He would tell you that the only time a man counts, is when he is dead.”

Jesus had just told His disciples that He was headed to the cross.  Peter scolded Him, “Jesus – you can’t die.  You are gonna become our King.”

Jesus answered, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” – Mark 8:34* The cross was an implement of execution.  He said each of us has one with our name on it and we need to embrace it rather than deny it.

Before you make out your will, understand that He spoke of death to our wills.  The cross was God’s will for Jesus.  To deny oneself is to give up the self-centered, self-directed life.

My best friend went to Seminary with the intention of being a pastor.  But a brain tumor got in the way.  He survived it, but it left his body somewhat diminished.  He thought that being a disciple meant being a pastor.  For him it meant dying to the dream of being a pastor.

To lose one’s life for Jesus sake, is to lay it all on the line to do His will and to advance His purposes.  

I could build the new lake house for me but maybe I should help repair the battered women’s shelter for Jesus sake.  I could spend that big raise on me, or I could raise the support I give to that missionary family.   I could win the argument with my coworker, or I could win his heart through gentleness and respect.  I could claim the parking space near the entrance or I could leave it for the mother of 3 in the car behind me.  Only a dead person is capable of such things. 

He continued, “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of me and because of the gospel will save it.”  Mark 8:35* 

Certainly, this applies to eternal life.  When we die to the impulse to save ourselves and turn to Christ, then we live.  To preserve the self-willed way, would be to perish.

But the principle has many reverberations.  For instance: the self-centered are busy saving their lives and often alienate others as they do.  The generous give their lives in service of others – and as a result they are rich with relationships.  So, who truly has the better “life?”

There was a missionary in India by the name of Sadhu Sunder Singh who was passing through the wintry Himalayan mountains with a friend.  They came upon an unconscious man in the snow.  The friend walked on, worried more about his own survival while Sadhu took the injured man upon his back.

The friend died of hypothermia, but Sadhu survived because of the extra work and the benefit of the warmth of the body of the man that he carried.

Most of us will never literally die for our faith, but we must die as an expression of our faith.

Yes officer Smaka – a dead man does count!

*NET Bible

now i-cy! — July 24, 2019

now i-cy!

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james ray johnson

“Thank you for being with me!”  Those words raised chill bumps – more than the pot of ice water in which my hand was submersed.   Let me explain.

My youngest son and I were baking as we sat on an asphalt driveway in the middle of a sweltering Texas summer.   I don’t know if I lost my mind before the decision, or sometime during, but there we were. 

Our mission was to chisel out the crumbling portions and patch it.  Maybe I should have hired it out, but I am kinda tight.  How tight you ask?  When I grab a dollar bill, George Washington screams.

Anyway, there we were, chipping away when there arose such a clatter I sprang from my squat to see what was the matter.  He crushed his thumb with the hammer. 

He was in prodigious pain.  He was still a little guy, so he wasn’t much for hiding his hurts. He jumped up and down, cradling his thumb while the tears gushed.  I sensed that it was time for some fatherly comfort, so I firmly said, “Go in the house and put some ice on it.”

He stumbled in, but his anguish still echoed from the kitchen.  He has always dreaded the pain of the cold ice more than the pain of his injury.  He might need some help. 

I found him sitting on the tile floor, still sobbing so I made an icepack and tried to force it on him.  I’ve had greater success bathing a cat.

Plan B.  I got a cooking pot, filled it with water and topped it off with ice.  I then took his hand in mine and submerged them both in the water.

He squirmed and fought me at first but then began to relax.  His pain was easing.   We sat without a word with icy hands for 10 minutes.  That’s when he finally broke the silence to say, “Thank you for being with me!”

My turn to cry!  I choked up when I understood that what he wanted and needed from me – was not a lesson or an icepack – just a little empathy.  He needed me to be with him in his pain.

I was a decent dad, but I wasn’t very good at that.  And yet it was something that I also longed for as a kid.  I remember my dad handing me a paint scraper with a mandate to remove the chipped paint on the house so that he could repaint it on the weekend. 

It was a two-story frame house. There was more area to scrape than the Great Wall of China. I was overwhelmed.  Day after day I chipped away, while desperately wishing that someone would join me.  But a real man didn’t need such things – or so I thought – or so I was told. 

Jesus thought differently.  Joseph of Nazareth encountered an angel in a dream who said to him, “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will name him Emmanuel,” which means “God with us.”  (Matthew 1:23) -NET Bible®

God with us!  Jesus was named “God with us” – not God for us, or behind us, or beyond, or before us – but “God with us.”  In our brokenness, we must have needs that only His presence with us can begin to address. 

John wrote of Jesus, “Now the Word became flesh and took up residence among us.”  (John 1:14). -NET Bible®    Eternal God added flesh to His being.  Why flesh?  In part, so that He might take up His residence among us.  He really wanted to be God with us.

Solitary confinement was pioneered in 1829 at the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia.  Charles Dickens visited the facility during his travels.  He described the “slow and daily tampering with the mysteries of the brain to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body” 

If the worst thing we can do to a person is to isolate them, then perhaps the best and most basic thing we can do is to be with them. 

My son’s words were more bracing to me than the icy water that numbed my hand.  He helped me see that my presence is a priceless gift that I can give to him and others.

Ironically, these days I serve as a Hospice Chaplain.  I visit those who have been given no medical hope of recovery.  Their days are few.  A nurse keeps them comfortable, an aide keeps them clean, but I offer them my company. 

We talk, read the Scripture, I’ll sing them a hymn or two, maybe make them laugh and of course I pray – and if it’s ever needed – I’ll grab another pot of ice water and we’ll soak together.

my four-point fiasco — July 17, 2019

my four-point fiasco

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james ray johnson

It took my 4-point GPA to show me how dumb I really was! 

I grew up with the idea that getting to heaven depended on what I could do.  I assumed there was a cosmic scale betwixt heaven and hell, with my sin on one tray and my merit on the other.  If my merit should exceed my sin at the end of my life, then – boom –the doors to paradise would open to me.  Simple – I just had to obey the rules. 

Even as a kid I worked hard to tip the scale in my favor.  I listened to and obeyed my spiritual teachers, I prayed my rote prayers faithfully (though at the speed of light.) I also attended church service six days a week.  I really did. (So, don’t even look to me for sympathy when you feel like you need to sleep in on Sunday morning.)  I was an A1 rule keeper. 

But I eventually bumped my head on the words of Jesus.  He let me know that a rule keeper must keep the rules perfectly.  He said, “So then, be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  (Matthew. 5:48) -NET Bible®   

Did He really mean perfect? – as in keeping the rules flawlessly? – as in complete conformity to the intrinsic holy character of God Himself? 

I learned about perfect as a student at Tri-State Bible College.  After 4 semesters, my GPA was a flawless 4-point.  Straight A’s all the way – in every single class.  Cool.

But alas, I eventually blew it – just a little, and was given a final grade of B in a church history class.  My 4-point slipped to a 3.96.  Now I must admit that I am perceptive when it comes to theology, but as dense as a brick when it comes to math. 

Which is why I got out a calculator. I wanted to know how long it would take me to reclaim that 4-point average.  (please stifle that laugh)  

So, I multiplied future course hours by 4, and then added the sum to my current average. It came to 3.999999!  Not yet up to 4, but I ran out of numbers, so I found a bigger calculator.  This time it came out to 3.999999999.  An even bigger machine was obviously needed – an industrial strength adding machine.  This time it came out to 3.999999999999. 

Only then, I realized that I could go to school for the rest of eternity and get perpetually perfect scores, but the best average I could ever attain would be 3 with an infinite number of 9’s behind it.  Perfect does not allow for even one imperfection. 

So why then did Jesus say, “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”   Doesn’t the Scripture say, “All have sinned?” (Romans 3:23).  All of us have missed the mark with God, so it is impossible for any of us to ever achieve the Fatherly 4-point. 

Which was His point!  Jesus wanted us to know that the bar is so high with the Father that no one could ever qualify for heaven – without Him. 

Paul put it this way in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “God made the one (Jesus) who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we would become the righteousness of God.”  -NET Bible®

Jesus became sin!  God, out of His mercy and grace, transferred the guilt of our sin to Jesus which left us guiltless before God.  God now views the Christian through the lens of Christ– and what He sees is His perfection.  The Father’s 4-point is met in Jesus. 

If eternal life is important to you – then maybe you should speak to the Father today and tell Him, “Father, I am helpless to save myself.  I cannot keep the rules perfectly.  Save me by the virtue of Jesus.  Wash me of my sin and give me the stamp of his perfection.”  

If you would like help in understanding this commitment, go to the contact page and send me your question.  If you need help balancing your bank account – I am probably not your man!

the bride price — July 10, 2019

the bride price

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james ray johnson

How many goats is a person worth?   That was a question that my brother Mark was recently required to answer.  You see, a while back he met a lovely woman in Bahrain who is actually from Kenya.  They began to date which required my very American brother to commute from his then current home in Saudi Arabia to see his Kenyan princess who was still in Bahrain. 

All this international travel bewildered me.  I live in East Texas where we mostly just travel to Dallas to go to Six Flags to eat a smoked turkey leg.

But he burned up those frequent flyer miles and they fell in love and decided they should marry.  That’s when the story got extra complicated.

Elizabeth belongs to the Kikuyu tribe, and when it comes to marriage, the Kikuyu hold fast to their traditions.  If my brother wanted to marry her, he would need to negotiate with the village Elders over the bride price.

He made the long trip to rural west Kenya – arrived at her village and was soon taken to a room where he was left by himself.  He was only there for five hours. 

During that time the Elders and her parents discussed an appropriate asking price.  Having agreed, they then summoned Mark and the bargaining began – in Swahili. 

The bride price for a girl from this family was 120 goats (which is about $3,500 in U.S. dollars).  Mark countered and offered one chicken.  His possible future in-laws were not amused. 

The parents were willing to haggle, but the Elders said it was tradition and the price was non-negotiable.  But they did offer to let him pay it out in installments.  Every time he came to visit the family he could bring 10 goats with him.  Pretty nice deal really – a perpetual supply of meat and milk.  I wonder how you pay the interest on a goat loan? 

He agreed to the price, and decided it was actually quite a bargain, for such a wonderful bride. 

Then the celebration.  Mark was given Kikuyu wedding garb to wear.  Tradition required him to feed his future mother and father-in-law as a token of his ongoing support.  He carried out this tradition by pouring a can of Coca Cola into their open mouths.  Coke must have some kind of amazing marketing department. 

Mark was happy.  He was given the blessing of the tribal elders and her parents to wed his beautiful African princess. 

So how many goats are you worth? 

The Bible sometimes refers to the church as a bride with Jesus as the prospective groom.  The prophetic book of the Revelation says, “Let us rejoice and exult and give him glory, because the wedding celebration of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.”  Rev 19:7 -NET Bible®

Jesus, the Lamb of God, will one day symbolically wed the redeemed of all the ages as His collective bride.  It’s His way of expressing His deep and profound love for His church.

This love story began over 2,000 years ago when, like my brother Mark, Jesus left His home, to travel to a faraway place called earth.   He came dressed in the clothing of the locals, having added the flesh of man to His incomparable deity.   

But there was the bride price to pay.  In Africa, there is a well-known Swahili folk song about a young man who was desperately in love with a girl named Malaika – but they were unable to marry because he was poor and could not afford the bride price.

The cost to Jesus was even greater.  He was asked to shed His blood to satisfy the expectations of the Father.  It was non-negotiable!   He loved us enough, however, that He agreed to it – He chose to give His life on a cross in order to have His bride.

Oh how He must love us! 

In Kenya, the legal guardianship of a woman is passed from father to groom when the bride price is paid.  She becomes his.

This is true of the bride of Christ as well.  He has purchased us with His life and we now belong to Him – to have and to hold, from this day forward….   – thank You Lord Jesus!

Treat yourself to a tune “Your Love” by Bethany Bergman

my roughneck dental hygienist — July 3, 2019

my roughneck dental hygienist

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jim johnson

A roughneck is a person who works hard with dirty calloused hands.  A dental hygienist is a person who sticks their hands in other people’s mouths.  The two don’t usually come together, but they did for me. 

I waited in the lobby for the sweet young lady who typically cleaned my teeth.  My eyes were buried in my magazine when I heard a deep, raspy voice say, “Mr. Johnson.”   

Oh no – my hygienist must have a cold.  That’s bad! 

I looked up to see a man – with a smock on. This may be worse!

He walked me back to the room while explaining that the former hygienist had moved on and now he was the man. (literally) That’s OK I can do change or so I thought.  But then he told me that he was an oil field roughneck who got tired of it and became a hygienist instead.  This was the first day of work in a dentist’s office.  Oh my – this could really be bad.

He put on his mask and gloves, tilted my chair.  Once I recovered from the whiplash, he took his pick attacked my gums like he was fracking a well.  With every muscular jab, my head rebounded.  I gagged when his big thick hands reached back for my molars.  

I suppose that everyone has their gums bleed a little during a cleaning.  But this guy hit a gusher.  

To clean up, he could have used the little sucker thing that sprays water and then vacuums it from your mouth.  He chose, instead, to cram my mouth with gauze.  He just kept jamming it in until I looked like a chipmunk on steroids. 

The dentist passed in the hall, and I cried, “Help me” but it came out, “mmmm mm.”

I learned a valuable lesson that day – when you are doing dental – you need to be gentle.

But maybe that should carry over into the rest of life as well.

I listen to the mean-mouthed politicians speak to and about each other and I wonder, “Is such vitriol necessary?”  How about a little gentleness?  The apostle Paul advised, “be peaceable, gentle, showing complete courtesy to all people.”  – Titus 3:2

We sometimes overreact when the kids disobey?   Can’t we be firm and yet gentle at the same time?  Again, Paul says, “If anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness…” Galatians 6:1

Boss – must we use our authority to bludgeon those we manage?  James asks, “Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct he should show his works done in the gentleness that wisdom brings.” – James 3:13

99% of the time I have been gentle in the way I speak to my wife.  She knows that, and yet, what she remembers is the harsh 1%.  This is what I need to remember, “A gentle response turns away anger, but a harsh word stirs up wrath.”  – Proverbs 15:1

The apostle Paul advocated gentleness 10 different times in the New Testament.  I suspect he did so because he was inclined to be harsh.  (father issues – who knows?)  Peter chimed in at least once and James twice.  Jesus told us that it would be the gentle who would inherit the earth (Matt. 5:5) and 1 Timothy 6:11 equates gentleness with godliness.

Should we ignore such a pervasive theme?  Or should we steal away for prayer, asking God to cleanse us from past failure in this area and asking Him to fill us anew with His Spirit that we might bear the fruit of gentleness.  (Gal. 5:23)   

Need a lesson in gentleness?  Jesus offered to be our tutor. “Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle…”  – Matt 11:29

If you struggle with being gentle, you might consider speaking to a pastor or a counselor.  Sometimes our harshness is rooted in the past and we may need a little help as we work through it.    

Well I survived my dental cleaning and on my next visit I found that my roughneck friend had moved on, probably recruited by the CIA to interrogate terrorists.   I was relieved to learn that He was replaced by another sweet young lady who practiced gentle dental.

(all Scriptures references are from the NET Bible®)

manatease! — June 27, 2019

manatease!

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Jim Johnson

The family was basking in the sultry waters off St. Petersburg Beach.  Our insatiably curious nine-year-old grandson was towing his Styrofoam boogie board through the surf.  His grandma was nearby to keep an eye on him.   

There was some commotion beyond him.  An aggregation of playful manatees had been spotted by some swimmers.  (An aggregation is manatee-speak for group – kind of like a congregation but better swimmers).  He began to furiously plow his way through the pounding waves, but then realized his grandma would love to see them too.  So, he yelled for her, “Mamo, there are some manatees.  Let’s go.”  He was all about manatees. 

On the drive to Florida we had talked about maybe seeing a manatee.  The family had fun exchanging original manatee jokes.  “How does a manatee start his car?”  With a manaKey!   “What does a manatee do for fun?”  ManaSki!  “What does a manatee do in the bathroom?  Wrong!  He takes a manaShower! 

A manatee really is something to see.  He is typically close to thirteen feet long and weighs about thirteen hundred lbs.  He has two flippers, a big paddle for a tail, folds of flesh, deep set eyes and a puffy forlorn looking face. 

An elephant, his closest relative, beats a manatee in the looks department hands down.   I sometimes wonder if the manatee was the last animal that God created.  Maybe He began with a big mass of grey flesh, shaped up its bulging form but then said, “I’m tired – that’s good enough.” 

One thing for sure, the boy was determined to see those creatures and to share the experience with his grandma.  She saw the people gathered near the manatees, but she also saw the relentless white capped waves that were coming her way.  She figured that they would be aggregating in Texas by the time she got out there. 

She tried anyway.  She pushed through the waves, wiping the salt from her eyes, while grandson bobbed around her like a cork on the water. But, it just wasn’t happening.   She stopped and began to turn in defeat when he pleaded, “Please Mamo, come on.  Please.  You can get on my boogie board and I will pull you.” 

Oh my! What a picture that conjures up?   An impossible task for him, to be sure. 

I wonder if that’s what Paul meant when he said, “love believes all things?”  (1 Cor. 13:7)  NET Bible® Out of his love for his mammo and the urge to share the moment with her, he believed he could and would tow her to the destination.   

An amazing love – the kind of love that may be the missing ingredient of life! 

Her husband was a hard man and she decided that she could not endure him any longer.  The marriage hung on for another 18 months, but it was really over the moment she failed to believe that things could change.  

He was a jerk!  He sure was, but what might happen if she were to possess a love that believed all things? 

What if she believed 1 Peter 3:1-2 which says that a wife can win a jerk of a husband over without nagging or coercion, but by the Christlike way in which she relates to him? 

What if she believed that the presence of Christ within her, could empower her to love him even though it felt impossible?

What if she were to accept by faith that God’s design for marriage is “till death do we part” and that God, the one who brought them together, would do His part to help them repair what was broken?    

What if she believed that her husband could become the husband and father he needed to be, once Christ took hold of his life? 

What if she were to believe the crazy idea that God could actually rekindle a fire in her heart for her husband? 

If only her love were to believe all things!

My grandson didn’t have the muscle, but he sure had the heart.  His grandma had a heart too and it melted before such devotion.  So, she turned and moved again toward the creatures but not before they began to move toward her.  And they met.  And they played together.  And then they moved on.  Texas was waiting.

His love prevailed.  Yours can too!

paper trail — June 19, 2019

paper trail

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Jim Johnson

“God doesn’t care for me the way He used to.”  That captures my mood at the moment!

You see – I have grown accustomed to His love.  He was there to pick up this 19-year-old when I was drowning in sin.  He gave focus to my aimlessness and redirected me from a mission-project girlfriend to the girl who is now my amazing wife.  He led me when I was clueless and provided when I was needy.

He stretched me with challenges and then empowered me to meet them.  He answered my specific prayers and he gave me the blessing of 3 children which has exponentially grown to 10 grandkids.   God has been more than good to me. 

And YET today – today I feel like the kid who reached into the candy jar just once too often to have his daddy slap his hand and say, “Son – you’ve had enough.” 

My earnest prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling.  When I go to the Bible for a Spirit whispered word of encouragement I am met with an eerie silence. I watch with a little envy as God dramatically works in the lives of others, while I sit like a wallflower glued to a folding chair at the junior high dance.  I find my comfort in the company of John the Baptist in his prison cell.

Has it finally happened?  Have I reached the limits of God’s love for me?

Maybe my nephew can help adjust my perspective.

He was two at the time.  His grandmother had a cold.  She exploded with a sneeze that vibrated the china (in China).  She startled us, especially the boy.  He reacted by racing out of the living room – a junior germaphobe in the making – or so we thought.   

Moments later he returned with a gift – some toilet paper with which she might wipe her nose.  He couldn’t reach the tissue box on the counter, so he grabbed it from the TP roll instead.  So, so sweet!

But, he didn’t understand that he needed to tear it off.  So, trailing behind him – from bathroom to the living room was an unbroken, soft, scented chain of two-ply love.   He offered it to her with pride and affection.  She gratefully received it with a giggle.

God’s love comes to us in that way.

He once said to His people, “I have loved you with an everlasting love. That is why I have continued to be faithful to you.” – Jeremiah 31:3. NET Bible.    An everlasting love has no beginning or end.  It cannot be exhausted.  Before we were created He decided to love us. (Eph. 1:4) a decision from which He has never wavered.

The apostle Paul asked, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ?”  Or to paraphrase, “Who or what is able to tear off the sheet of two-ply and break the chain of His affection for us?” 

He continued, “Will trouble, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?”  – Romans 8:35.   The answer to that purely rhetorical question is – not a thing can separate us from His love.  

He was sure of it for he went on to say.  “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  – Romans 8:35-39.  NETBible

An unbroken, soft, scented chain of His heavenly love.

Now do I always feel loved?  Well no!  But how reliable are my feelings anyway?   As a pastor I made hospital visits.  I sometimes empathized with the patient to the point to where I left their room having the same disease – or at least I felt like I had some of the symptoms.  “Oh man, I feel like my ovaries are enlarged too!”

Regardless of the way I read my circumstances, God’s love is ever faithful, always true.  As I draw from it, it continues to perpetually unroll at its source.   

There is hope in the unbroken expression of His love for me. 

What about you?  Do your current circumstances dull your perception of His love?    May today be the day that you relocate that endless, unbroken chain and grab it.  Giggle if you must!

_____________________

Here’s a guitar instrumental to help you reconnect to the never ending love of God!

Blessed Assurance/Jesus Joy of Man’s Desiring: Guitar Jim Johnson
squirrel grit — June 12, 2019

squirrel grit

/pickleheavenpress

Jim Johnson – 745 words

When I grow up I’d like to be a squirrel, or at least be as determined. 

My wife and I love nature, but we have black thumbs.  Every bush we plant, lives a tortured existence and quickly turns to fertilizer.   So, we get our fix from a bird feeder instead.

I bought one, filled it with seed and suspended it on a pole.  We went out the next morning to enjoy nature, except there were no birds, because there was no seed.  There was however, a bunch of squirrels with gang tattoos, who had cleaned us out.

This aggravated me because the label on the bag said bird seed, not squirrel seed.  And they ate an enormous amount.  One of them looked like a little sumo wrestler without the diaper.

So then began my battle with the squirrels.  I put a barrier on the pole, but they easily bypassed it.  I improvised more attempts and they laughed.  When a barrier slowed them down they jumped from the trees with the greatest of ease.

But then I took a big trash-can lid and suspended it beneath the feeder.  O yeah!  There was not enough stretch in them to get past this one.  I finally won a round.

I spiked the ball in the end zone when I bought a sunflower seed mix.  This was too much for one of them.  He began to daily, gnaw at the trashcan lid until he whittled it down enough to bypass it

I was mad now!  I took a 5-gallon bucket and suspended it upside down. (see the pic) It was thicker plastic and there was 18 long inches to gnaw.  It took him forever – but he did it. 

Then I tried coating the rim of the bucket with Vicks VapoRub.  He would sniff it and run for the hills. Score another round for me (although he was grateful that his sinuses were cleared).

He countered by going for the motherlode which was in a sealed plastic bin in our garage.   One day we found him inside it luxuriating on top of 10 pounds of seed, like Scrooge McDuck basking on his mountain of gold.   

Only one solution left.  I baited a small animal trap with some enticing pecans.  The sneak couldn’t resist.  We caught and relocated him.  He is now a determined nuisance to someone else.

Such determination might look good on me!

Long ago I reported for my first ministry position as a pastor.  Before that I had been a printer, a broiler cook, taxi cab driver, printer, maintenance man and llama keeper.   I worked jobs where my value was measured by the volume I produced or how much money I made for the owner. 

But the work of a pastor seemed nebulous to me.  I didn’t like it.  At the end of that first day, I bought a newspaper to look for another job.  My wife was ready to club me. 

My response to difficulty back then was to cut and run – to give up and look for something else – to find a goal that was easier to accomplish.   So unlike Mr. squirrel. 

Jesus was at work in me though.  He said, “But as for the seed that landed on good soil, these are the ones who, after hearing the word, cling to it with an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with steadfast endurance.”  Luke 8:15 NET Bible®.   He tells us that the faithful, fruitful Christian is one who is marked by the quality of steadfast endurance.

The two are actually one word in the Greek language of the New Testament.  It means to remain under a great weight.  Think of a weight lifter who snatches 500 pounds from the floor and though tempted to drop it, he stands under it and keeps it elevated.  That is steadfast endurance – sheer determination. 

What might happen if God’s people were more determined? 

Instead of fleeing a problem-prone church, he might stay and become part of the solution.  Instead of abandoning a difficult marriage she might stick it out and find that the grace of God is enough to turn it around.  Instead of quitting a job in discontent, he might persevere and find that he gets promoted.  Instead of letting difficulty quench our faith, we could be steadfast and wait for God to show Himself.

Hey if a squirrel can do it – we can too!  We would please the Lord and amaze ourselves.  

_________

I have included a link to a song I wrote, maybe one of my best, but certainly one of my most transparent because it highlights my weakness in this area.

It’s Always Harder Stayin’ Here – Written and recorded by Jim Johnson
lie medicine — June 5, 2019

lie medicine

/pickleheavenpress

Jim Johnson

My mom, Anna Johnson, moved on to higher ground last week after a full rich life of 88 years.  Thank you, by the way, for your precious thoughts in response to my brother Doug’s Facebook tag. Mom had just celebrated Mother’s Day, her birthday and her 67th anniversary with my dad who she left behind.  She was a wise and resourceful mother to five and my blog this week pays tribute to her ingenuity. 

——–

Five kids – one crime – no one did it.  What does a mom do?   

My mother was a stay-at-home mom who possibly day-dreamed of being a stray-from home mom.  There were five of us kids and we were well-behaved (while we slept).   She ran a tight ship.  The wrath of mom was not something you wanted to risk.

So, it was, that one of us broke something that was dear to mom and then hid the damning evidence.  She eventually found it and growled, “Who broke it?” 

There were 4 quick replies, “Not me!”  We pinned it on Markie, the youngest.   He was too little to protest- the perfect fall guy.

Mom knew that one of us was lying – but who?  And how would she get to the bottom of it?   Dad had outlawed water boarding.  So, she introduced us to her mysterious “lie medicine.”  Lie medicine is a substance that identifies a liar.   It did not merit the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

She had each of us drink a liquid.  It tasted like water, but the label said lie medicine.  She told us that it would cause the hands of a liar to turn blue. 

This was frightening!  Each of us had told a lie at one time or another (probably within the last 12 hours).  If the lie medicine worked, then mom would become the mother of Smurfs.

But surely the stuff wasn’t legit.  Why hadn’t we heard of it before? No, she was manipulating us to get the guilty to confess.  So, we stood our ground. 

She pressed on.  Mom lined us up, oldest to youngest, and told us to hold out our hands, palms down.  She took my hands in hers and then flipped them over. Nothing to see but a little dirt and a wart.  I breathed a sigh of relief. Then onto my sister Sandy.  She too was clean. 

The suspect list had been narrowed down to Doug or Carol.  Mom moved on to Doug – her prime suspect.  She flipped his hands and there it was – a shockingly dark, blue stain.  He was terrified and swiftly confessed, providing every deceitful detail. 

We were stunned and scared.  The lie medicine worked.  Mom never had to use it again.  She had to only threaten to – and we broke.

Eventually we discovered her diabolical secret.  Mom had cunningly dabbed her finger in blue food coloring and touched it to Doug’s palm.

I must hand it to her, though, the thought of having our sins revealed, motivated us to be honest.

I wonder if that’s why Jesus has a similar plan for us? 

According to 1 Cor 3:10-15 and 2 Cor. 5:10, there will come a time when Christians will line up and Jesus Himself will check our palms (so to speak).  We will give an account then for what we did with our lives. 

It will be a time of gain, for we will be rewarded for our gold, silver and precious stone moments in life.  But it will be a time of pain as well – a time that we will likely meet with reluctance.  Paul associates it with the fear of the Lord.  (2 Cor. 5:11) 

Why reluctant?  Paul put it this way, “…wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men’s hearts; and then each man’s praise will come to him from God.”  (1 Cor 4:5) NET Bible®

Jesus, on 3 occasions, also told His disciples that what is hidden now will be revealed then.  (Luke 8:17; 10:21; 12:1-3) The lies, the unseen motives, our embarrassing thoughts – all revealed.  Most of us will be singing the blues (and maybe seeing the blue too)

Good news though, mom never kicked us out of the family for lying and neither will the Lord ever reject those who have entered His family through their faith in Jesus.  But as was with my family – and most every family – there is accountability. 

Better to drag the hidden into the light today. Confess it to Him (1 John 1:9) so that there is nothing to reveal in the future.  Better to live in a way today – that creates a blueless tomorrow.   By His power and grace, we can do that!