I’m not one to use words or concepts lightly. Some people will say it’s a “miracle” when they got a certain job or when their team won a game. It may well have been a miracle, but the term is used too lightly, too recklessly.

Creation is a miracle. It’s a miracle that God loves me. The resurrection of One crucified is a miracle.

There are also personal miracles, ones that only I might recognize. My belief is based on a Biblical foundation but also on personal experience. I’ve had a few in my lifetime. I somehow feel both privileged and yet humbled by them. I’ll describe one later on.

A personal miracle is difficult to explain in it’s fullness to another person. Consider Balaam in Numbers 22. He was a prophet of God who was told to speak only what God tells him to speak. As he left with a couple of princes from Balak, his donkey seemed to have a mind of it’s own about what direction to go. Balaam beat his donkey and his donkey spoke to him. “What have I done to make you beat me?” Balaam answered the donkey. He found out that there was an angel of the LORD standing with his sword drawn ready to kill Balaam if he continued on the donkey.

“Then the LORD opened Balaam’s eyes, and he saw the angel of the LORD standing in the road with his sword drawn. So he bowed low and fell facedown.”  (Numbers 22:31)

You can read the entire account about the donkey here or the entire account of Balaam in the OT in Numbers 22-24.

I would call this a personal miracle because, unlike the parting of the Red Sea, only Balaam saw the angel of the LORD.  The account seems to indicate the princes of Balak with Balaam didn’t hear the donkey or the angel of the LORD speak.

The donkey account gets a dozen verses. That’s it. We might be able to conjure some mental image of the event but I don’t think even Hollywood can create images that fully invoke in us the personal thoughts and feelings that Balaam had.  “He bowed low and fell facedown.” It was truly an event of Biblical proportions yet it was personal to Balaam. It was a personal miracle.

Thus I can tell you the account of a personal miracle that happened to me but there is no way that a few words can describe the depth of feeling and understanding that God gave me. Here is that account:

When I was still a young believer, several years after I accepted Christ Jesus as my Lord and Savior, I still occasionally struggled with understanding that God really loved me, a sinner, as much as He did.

I was working on some project and I needed two quarter-inch washers. I have a lot of hardware of numerous kinds, plumbing, electrical, screws, nuts, and bolts of all sorts, practically a personal hardware store in my own little shop. So finding a couple of common quarter-inch washers should be a breeze. I had half-inch and larger sizes, and many smaller sizes, some so small that you need tweezers to pick one up. But I needed two quarter-inch washers.

I can get very driven to complete something, so much so that I won’t eat or sleep until it is done.  I had already missed lunch looking for these washers and it was now almost dinner time. I found one but I had to have two or I could not finish the project. I looked everywhere, in the shop in the summer room, in the basement, all through the shed. I was frustrated, hungry, and worn out. Finally I cried out to God. (I should have prayed in the first place instead.)

Standing by the shed door, I took the one washer that I had and threw it into a junk pile in the shed. I knew that by doing that I might never find that washer again. (And I’d be really bummed out if I found one washer and needed the one that I tossed.) It was partly out of anger (one washer wasn’t any good to me) and maybe a little but out of faith (if God can find me one washer then He can find me two.)

I leaned on the shed door and almost cried. In my heart was something like “if You loved me then You would give me the washers that I need!” I was angry at God. My hand held on to a peg board that a previous owner had mounted on the back of the shed door. For some reason, I looked at my hand, then at the pegboard, then at the many rows of quarter-inch washers that the owner used to space the pegboard away from the back of the door. I ripped the pegboard off the door to find several rows of washers that were behind the pegboard. There were hundreds of washers literally inches from my hand as I was angrily crying out to God for just two.

I fell to my knees in tears. I wept bitterly. I cried tears of repentance. I knew that God loved me in that He sent His Son to die for my sins so that I can live with Him in Heaven forever. But now I had a very personal experience of God’s love and provision for me. No matter whether I got what I needed (as with the washers) or not, I made the commitment to never again doubt God’s love for me.  I can tell you that I never did doubt God’s love for me after that. And I have never been in want for a quarter-inch washer since then.

But these are only words. You were not there; you are not me. It was a profound personal experience for me. To have hundreds of what I needed touching my hand but like Balaam could not see them was too much for me to take lightly. God opened my eyes not only to see the washers but to see His love for me personally. Hollywood can’t give you the intense feelings that I had. I can’t even quite pull them up again after all these years. But I remember the essential aspect of the whole thing. God loves me — me!  And I will never again doubt Him. That is burned into my soul.

I praise and worship God for His holiness, for His creation, and for His love for me, a sinner.
God is good.

I just love the way that Oswald Chambers puts things. Today he says this: “The Sermon on the Mount is not a set of rules and regulations— it is a picture of the life we will live when the Holy Spirit is having His unhindered way with us.”

As I am being conformed to the image of God’s Son, then I will show these godly, gentle, powerful characteristics in my life in increasing measure.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”  (Matthew 5:3-12)

We tend to misunderstand that it is the life He lives in us which is the abundant spiritual life which results in fruit of righteousness in this world. Just yesterday Oswald said, “No one can make himself pure by obeying laws.” Also “God doesn’t change human nature but that He changes the source of our nature by giving us a new heredity.”

That’s how we are able to do it. That’s the only way. It is HIS Life in us. How much more clearly does it have to be said? Yesterday’s devotional verse is this:

“For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.”  (Matthew 5:20)

That is one of those “crushing” verses that can make an unbeliever (or an uninformed believer) want to just throw up his hands and give up.

Praise God for His Holy Spirit in us who is able to make us into the holy creation that God has called us to be.

Are you demonstrating the character of God’s Son in increasing measure?

“For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  (2 peter 1:5-8)

I wrote the previous post (below) while in some high pain. I don’t think that I could have written it with low pain. Not sure why I’m posting this post except for self-pity. I hurt so badly but can’t do anything about it since I can’t tolerate narcotics, opiates, and most other pain relievers simply don’t work with me. Arrgh! Sleep is my only solace, my only escape from this prison of pain, my only cure.

Good night.

I don’t look in the mirror often. Part of the reason is that I’ve seen myself often enough and I just don’t have the need to see what I look like anymore. I will wash my face, neck and ears. I’ll floss and brush my teeth. I’ll comb my hair. I’ll do all that without really looking at myself other than making sure my hair is parted in about the right place.

But one day I looked in the mirror and seemed to see another man. I looked more carefully into his eyes. I wanted to see what’s going on inside. I think that I saw the stress, even the pain when I look in his eyes. It doesn’t look like me. That’s funny because I don’t really know what I look like (not having spent much time looking at myself all these years.) But I see a man under a lot of stress. It’s a lot for him, but there’s nothing that I can do about it. He will just have to endure, and I know that he will with God’s grace and power.

There’s something else that I found which totally surprised me. It is more important than my own stress/pain thing. When I saw his pain I also saw the pain and the love of those around him. Think about it. If someone that you loved was in pain, wouldn’t that cause you a different kind of pain?

This new revelation is upsetting to me but an important one. Although I live daily with my disability I live in a sort of denial about it. Part of that denial seems to include not acknowledging the difficulty and pain that my disability causes others, specifically those closest to me, my wife and children.

So now I actually choose to look in this man’s eyes to see the reality of his pain and thus recall the pain that others feel so that I can better sympathize with them. What I see most of all is my wife’s love, hers and my children’s. She loves me so much to be able to live with me in an understanding way. That’s what husbands are called to do with their wives.

1st Peter 3:7 (in the NASB) says this: “You husbands in the same way, live with your wives in an understanding way, as with someone weaker, since she is a woman; and show her honor as a fellow heir of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered.”

My wife is a saint. She is born again so of course she is that kind of saint. But she is a saint in the sense that she shares my burden and, in a way, endures more pain than I do. Yet she is kind, sympathetic, gentle, understanding, and she is so even when I am being a jerk, not just because of my pain, but because of my sin, arrogance, insensitivity, …did I mention my arrogance?

I look in the mirror and see my pain and her love. And I begin to understand some things about life that are difficult to convey in these few words.

The really important things in God’s estimation are not those things which get the most attention. I get attention from people. But my wife gets God’s attention. He is pleased with her. It is an amazing perspective, to begin to see what is important to God. “those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable” (1 Cor 12:22)

“Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.” (John 7:24) This is one of my favorite verses as a man who loves truth and hates pretense. Yet how easy it is to deceive oneself. Looking into the mirror has helped me. Looking into God’s mirror, (the Bible, of course), can do so much more to reveal deception and truth in someone’s life.

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.” (James 1:22-24)

This is a serious admonition, one that I cannot overlook but must take to heart. I pray that I would never merely listen, but that I would obey God’s Word.

I do look into God’s mirror every day. And now I look into a physical mirror and try to remember what I see. I need to be more understanding of those around me, those who feel burden and pain because of my own pain and disability. I need to respond to their love by acknowledging it and reciprocating, loving them back with the same understanding and gentleness that they daily show me. I need to show love to them more and more, certainly more than I have been. This is what I’m intently trying to do.

I love my wife more now than I ever have before. In fact, for the last 24 years I have loved her more each year. But it is different now that I’m disabled – much different. The youthful joy has been replaced by a mature, steady, deep kind of love. It’s not as fun for either one of us I think mostly because of the reality and sadness of my painful disability. But we have our joyful times and I hope to have more of them as I am able to do so.

A related article would be Heros of compassion.

“Behold, the days come, saith the LORD, that I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel, and with the house of Judah:”
- Jeremiah 31:31

I met Genie and Nancy Lowe (mother and daughter) on the campus of Bob Jones University back around 1989 or 1990 at a homeschooling conference. I was amazed at how these two women, local to Greenville, SC, had a ministry which was world wide in scope: international, multicultural, and interdenominational.

The New Covenant Couriers describes their charter: “Independent, fundamental, burdened for Israel, placing God’s promised New Covenant into the hands of God’s chosen.”

No large staff, organization, or office, (their office is located in the Greenville Rescue Mission) yet these two faithful women have given away over 34,000* bilingual Hebrew New Testament Bibles to Jewish people throughout the world! (*as of 2006) They appeared to me humble and unassuming, not trying to gain attention to themselves. When I spoke with Genie the quiet presence and power of God’s Holy Spirit spoke through her of the passion for getting the New Testament into the hands and hearts of Jewish people. I was blown away. I stayed in touch with them on occasion for a short time but since then only through their newsletters.

I receive their one-page, one-sided, black and white newsletter every so often, and I pray for Genie and Nancy every occasion they come to mind. I love to hear how, day after day, year after year, they continue to provide Hebrew New Testaments to Jewish people locally and throughout the world. I love to hear the testimonies of how they got Bibles into the hands of Jewish people in various locations. God seems to make divine appointments for these women. Here is an example of a testimony from their most recent newsletter:

“Several months ago we received a letter from a Jewish man in prison in the state of Washington. He said he was raised in an Orthodox Jewish home and requested a Hebrew/English New Testament. One of our tracts had come into his possession and he saw that the Bibles were free for Jewish people. He promised to read the New Testament if we would send him one. He said he would let us know his thoughts. It was so exciting to see his interest grow over the weeks of correspondence we had with him. At one point he said that he could see that Jesus fulfilled many of the messianic prophecies of the Old Testament. And then the letter came when he wrote “I just want you to know that I trusted in Jesus Christ alone and now He is my Lord and Savior. I am saved and certain and no longer trust in the Law of Moses for salvation.” We were able to connect him with a Bob Jones University graduate who pastors a church there in Washington. This pastor also teaches a Bible study in the prison which was quite amazing to us. He emailed back that our new Jewish friend came to the class and stood up in front of 30 other prisoners and said “God has rescued me from Hell.” He then gave a testimony of his salvation. Pray for Robert. He has a life sentence, but we know he is more free now than many on the outside without Christ.”

How do they do it? Through God’s empowering grace, I’m sure. (Genie is 90 in 2006) They also have this to say:

“New Covenant Couriers is supported by gifts from churches and individuals. All donations are used for shipping and printing of Bibles and tracts, mailings, postage, office supplies, and travel expense to display Bibles in churches and conferences. No personal support is received. We are indebted to The Society for Distributing Hebrew Scriptures in England for the many thousands of Bibles they have sent to us to give to Jewish people. We are also grateful to Christians who help in support of our ministry.”

Their website is: http://www.biblesforjews.com/    In case you want to make a donation, (any amount will be appreciated!), their address is:
New Covenant Couriers
P.O.Box 2442
Greenville S.C. 29602

I happen to know something about the meaning of their logo. It is the Star of David with a cross across the top of the star. A small sheep looks up in wonder and amazement, looking intently for their Messiah as they look on the shadowed Star of David. David was a shadow of the Christ to come. As they gaze beyond the star they will see the cross of Christ.

My son is at work on a summer internship in Redmond. He found a friend there, another intern. I thought the advice his friend shared was useful. Although directed in the technical employment area, it can be applied to any area of employment.

Check out his advice on his blog by clicking here.

This same fella has a photo album. Some photos have my son in them! One photo that I was intrigued by was about an association that he has called Brothers Under Christ or Beta Upsilon Chi.

You can see the photo of his plaque here.

There is a book that I read in High School called “Black Like Me.”  (Warning: It has some mature content.) Originally written in 1960, it describes an experiment conducted by a man where he colored himself black and went to the deep South, New Orleans, to be precise. This was a time when bigotry was much more prevalent than it is now, especially in the South. The result was a revealing discourse on how the man was treated by both blacks and caucasians.

Near the end of his travels, as he was beginning to travel back to the North, the dye was fading so that he could be confused as either a light colored black person or a tanned white person. He had become so adept at mimicking the manners of a Southern black that he could do so and then record how he was treated. Then he would act like a white Northerner (in the same location) and find that whites treated him with respect and blacks with distrust, the reverse from just moments before.

Having read this book in 1972, as a High School student, it really impacted me as to the bigotry of both blacks and whites in America and how not-so-subtle it can be.

The question that I asked myself at the time was “how much am I influenced by skin color or other physical aspects of a person.”  I hope that I have purged myself of any such bigotry.

The other side of the coin is how I am treated by those who don’t look like me. I have often been treated with prejudice, most recently at a Hampton Inn hotel by one of the staff there. One man was obviously being rude to me. I didn’t know why at the time. Later, he apologized to my wife admitting that he didn’t like handicap persons because they don’t ask for help when they need it. (I will have more say about this later.)

God created us to be diverse, that is, we are ALL different from each other. I believe that is part of the glory of God. Every snowflake, and every person, different yet beautiful.

For some of my other thoughts on this subject, see the following posts:
Counter-Culture Christians
Diversity Within; Diversity Without

A couple of recommended movies:
The classic “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” (PG rated) with Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn, and Sidney Poitier.
A made-for-TV movie “The Color of Friendship” (G rated – very clean) This one might spark a lot of good discussion in your family. (I have a copy of it that I recorded from the TV.)

OK. Here’s the scoop. I could never complete a worthy discourse on “the truth about pain.” I set such lofty goals, ones far beyond my capacity. I would be sorry that I even started this topic except that it seems there is a purpose in it. Truth has purpose.

So I will finish my thoughts by suggesting some application to what I started. I said before, pain is personal and thus hidden. We can’t know what another person is feeling. Whether physical or emotional pain, if a loved one claims to feel pain then our response must be to show tenderness and sympathy. Let me give some personal examples of how I’ve failed, and then succeeded to show tenderness and sympathy for someone else’s pain.

When one is young and strong, we don’t notice some things that would be a discomfort to others. For instance, I was at one time unaware of drafts in a room. If an elderly person would complain about a draft I didn’t really consider that it was anything of much importance. “How much could a draft affect a person?”, I wondered. That was until I became intolerant to cold. You would be amazed at how much a draft can affect a person! For me, now, it is the difference of tolerating the environment and a severe episode with pain which renders me so stressed as to incapacitate me completely. In the “numbers”, it can mean the difference between a pain level of “2″ and of “8″. For me, “2″ is as good as it gets and “8″ means “get me out of here now!” All because of a draft that I once didn’t even notice. So next time your grandmother complains, show some consideration. Offer to relocate to another place without a draft or to get her a sweater to put on.

Another area that I’ve fail in is when someone says that they’re afraid of something that I would say is “ridiculous.” I’d tell them, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”,  “Just don’t think about it.”, and other such statements of “dis”. (dismissals)    How cold!  Just because I don’t have such fear doesn’t mean that they don’t feel it or that it isn’t something significant to them!

I hope that I have become more sensitive to other people’s pain. I hope that you will, too.

Pain is personal. I can’t feel your pain and you can’t feel mine. We sense and react differently. There may be similarities but there can be little real comparison. There is no independent, third-party observer that can see your pain and mine and then make an objective comparison. Pain cannot be seen at all. It is a hidden aspect of oneself. It is personal.

There is no scale that is appropriate to measure pain. I’m asked to rate mine on a scale of 1 to 10. First of all, (as a programmer), I think that it should be from 0 to 10 otherwise (with their 1-10 scale) feeling no pain must be a 1. So the way they present their scale is all wrong. How I would rate pain can be different than some one else. I’ve heard people say that their pain is a 10. I wonder. I’ve never admitted to having pain of a “10″ and I’m reluctant to ever admit having a “9″. I figure that a 10 is what one might feel the instant the truck hits. You feel a 10 then you die. So, (in their scale of 1-10), the only numbers that I might use are 1-9 with a “1″ being no pain. Since I’m always in pain then I only use numbers 2-9.