Wednesday, September 30, 2009


Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters...........Genesis 1: 2 Formless? Empty? The words of Genesis 1:2 are hauntingly cold in their assessment of the world before God's creative activity is seen. The word for formless (NIV) is rendered desolate, worthless, confusion or nothing in other venues. The word used for empty is seen in other works and places as void, a ruin, a vacuity. The world before Genesis 1:3 was a place of darkness, chaos-- nothingness on steroids. But on this chaotic void of dark confusion and emptiness there was nonetheless hope for it also states that the Spirit of God was hovering, brooding, on the waters. That word for moving implies to flutter, to envelope as a hen broods over her nest so the Spirit moves over the primordial waters. Was it waters? The word is used also for urine, semen, and waste. In the wasted, chaotic nothingness that was called 'world' before creation God was present, moving, about to change nothingness into glorious beauty and fill emptiness with Himself. Creatio ex nihilo-creation from nothing, now that is something! Imagination can't soar high enough to capture even a scintilla of the wonder of Creation. We see its results in nature and in people and still marvel. Watching Ken Burns' The National Parks on PBS this week has left me in awe and filled with sadness at the same time. Awe, because the sights are indescribable, sad because I've not seen them in person. The brooding of the Spirit over the lives of people and the creation He still works in them is even more breathtaking. Imagine a soul, a real, living person whose life is filled with emptiness, confusion, darkness and is wasted regarding any thing permanent or eternal. They most likely are not even aware of their own darkness because its all they know and its all they see around them. Then the Spirit of God speaks and the light comes on and the ugly void of life without God in the heart is awakened to its purpose and the journey begins. I recently saw a glimpse of this again with the building of our home and the subsequent move into it. The canvas wasn't blank but it appeared more barren than most places to build a house in our community. It was not on the bluff overlooking the lake with their shimmering vistas. It was not on the golf course with the tranquil beauty those lots afford. It was not heavily wooded teeming with wildlife, although it had a great set of trees out front. That was all, no other trees, just the one big one in front and the lot and those around it were so nondescript that telling people where it was drew mostly blank stares despite the fact that it was clearly seen from the main road. The previous owner no longer valued it much and so the plain, empty lot with a good tree was about to be brooded over. Applied to it now was the creative art of all-world home builder Ron Roberts and his crews of craftsmen. Land was scraped, leveled and forms were set. Foundations went down and frames went up. Rooms became distinct where before there were prickly pear and native grasses. Where darkness exercised its reign now light competes at the flick of a switch. Strength, beauty, and utility were taking over where nothingness once ruled. The land bent and conformed to Ronnie's hand and in a matter just a few months, a house was born. But it was empty, void, looking good on the outside but with nothing on the inside but possibilities. I did my part with the help of the six Seraphim (the men who helped me move). All the accumulations of the ages was now under the same roof. But it was still without form and chaos ruled. Where's my socks? Where's my phone? Where o, where is my life in this mess? Then Pam began to brood and her spirit began to move over the face of the home. Beds for resting and re-creation were placed; dishes filled cabinets; chairs filled rooms, electronic devices to keep in touch with or be touched from the world found their niche. Where weeds claimed squatters rights, now there is grass; where there were vines, now there resides hollies and jasmine; where rocks grew deep now a fence stands straight; where a breeze once moved on nothing now cools the brow of the tired owner who rests on a porch that overlooks a valley from which a steeple extends its spire and a place that once was easily missed in passing now shares a vision of life and its living for miles and miles. It was there all the time, it just took some one to see it, invest in it, and work it. Even this creative process can't compare to what Christ does when He begins to move over the hearts that are choked by the cares of this world and living in darkness without Him. When He moves over those hearts and new life with Him begins, even the angels can't explain its joy (I Peter 1:12) for no eye has seen and no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him (I Cor. 2:9). Your life chaotic, dark, and feeling wasted? Maybe not you but someone you love feels that way? Pray for the same movement of the Spirit of God over the face of your depths and watch what he can do with a Word. And God said, " Let there be light," and there was light. was good... Terry

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Terminal D Gate 22


Tuesday, September 8, 2009


He's gone and I understand why which isn't to say I like it one bit. We talk about spoiling our grandchildren but the truth is I was the spoiled granddad or as Kaden was learning to call me "Grandcos." Mimi and Grandcos were spoiled to see the little feller every two or three weeks. Now it's going to be every three to four months if we're lucky. Better job, more help with an active 2 yr old for Melissa, nicer home, better future, yeah, yeah, yeah, etc, etc. Like I said, I know why they left and they have our blessing, I just wish it wasn't so far. I've never been separated from Kaden for more than about 70-75 minutes. It hurts. It's all normal. I'm now going to be a normal parent and grandparent who sees the kids and grandkids on special trips, vacations, and some holidays. I hate normal. Our previous normal was meeting in Ft. Worth for lunch now and then, our going to Weatherford for the afternoon here and there, or their coming out to our home. Kaden had been here enough to know when Mimi was baking something to run into the kitchen for a "bite, bite" of something "numa, numa" (yummy). He knew where the basketball was, where the dvd's were, and the drums were (pots, pans, long spoons) and that Grandcos would let him play on the computer or with his phone. Now the computer and phone are our main ways of communication and keeping in touch and the separation hurts. I could no more explain the feeling Mimi and Grandcos have for their grandchild any more than any other grandparent could for theirs. It's all but impossible to explain but the experience is life-changing and enriching like no other. Mimi would hum Vivaldi's "Spring" since he was really little and he learned to hum it back and wave his arm like he was leading the orchestra. Since he learned to walk at about nine months, Kaden has wrapped his hand around Grandcos' finger and led him anywhere he wanted to go. Grandcos rarely said "no." We laughed, giggled, chased, tickled, hid, played "giddy-up horsey," played "ba-ball" with a golf club, and walked "side'' (outside) and when he wore Mimi out he would switch to Grandcos or vice-versa. My finger aches to be wrapped by a tiny hand, my ankle longs to be banged with a plastic golf club, and my knee saddle is missing its rider and the separation is killing me. Separation. God knows what I feel. It occurs to me, to an exponentially small degree, that I now know what God the Father must have felt when the ones He loved were separated from him, not by a moving van but by their own sin. We shall end our separation from children and grandchild when time, money, and schedules allow us to travel to Farmington or have them come to us for visits. God, who spared no expense, scheduled in the fullness of time the Visitation to end the separation and thus we have become the visited planet, and now nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Oh...ouch, but Oh.... Separation. Its a bad thing. But thanks be to God, it's not an eternal thing. Terry

Back to Blogging

Yes, its been a while since I last wrote. To both of you who read these things, my apologies. Hopefully, in the twenty-eight days since I last posted an article you've found better things to do with your life -but I haven't so its back to writing a bit. With last minute details on finishing the house, to making plans to move, to the move itself, to helping my son and family load for their move to Farmington, NM, to the hiccup with the closing date, well I just didn't feel like writing anything. Too, I was and am still pretty melancholy about my grandson moving to NM and I didn't want that to dominate whatever I said but it will anyway so I might as well get that out of the way. It's back to work on these little treatises so pray for me and I'll certainly pray for those of you who read them; you'll need it. Cos