God's kingdom, past present and future

Cars in front of me, cars behind me; all here to safely enjoy nature from the confines of our cars. An African wilderness experience in the heart of Texas, with I’m sure just the right humidity and baking temperature. We were advised by signs throughout the route to stay in our cars at all times, but those clever few who know how to break rules were standing up through their sun roofs or hanging out the windows of their trunks, they might as well have been out walking.

My car at first was surrounded by deer, elk, other horned mammals and ostriches, so many that we couldn’t move. But they had short attention spans and moved on to the next car in line if we didn’t produce any edibles on short notice. No need to wait for us to give a hand out, they were well aware of the purpose of any car here, it was to provide them with sustenance. One ostrich, (man they have humongous feet), actually pecked at my rear view mirror to voice his complaint that we weren’t honoring the “feed me” rule. Or since my car is red maybe he mistook my rear view mirror for a nice shiny Macintosh apple? This was going to be a three hour ride and we wanted to stretch the food to the end.

This was absolutely amazing. All these wild animals just walked up to our car windows. We were instructed by other numerous signs along the way to not feed the zebras by hand because they tended to bite but we ignored that rule. (I guess I pointed some fingers back at me as a rule breaker! Hey at least I still had my fingers!) We didn’t get bit; otherwise we’d have been told we had been warned. One zebra with big sharp yellow teeth did pull a brochure off my dad’s lap however, but dad yanked it back! Good for him, we needed that brochure to describe the animals to us. Then dad placed a hand over the zebra’s snout…nose…whatever, and pushed his head back out of the window. He still didn’t get bit. The zebra didn’t need a brochure.

Then came the giraffes. Awesome. A car in front of us had a sun roof, or should I say an entrance for the giraffes. I got pictures of heads from above the car disappearing inside the car. The giraffes wanted food; lots of food. They also let us pet them, but again, at the price of food. They were magnificent. Such tall graceful creatures, putty in our hands for morsels of food.

My son loved the rams or mountain goats. He’s a Capricorn (not that we follow our “horror scopes”) and finally came face to face with his namesake. I have a picture of his stunned expression as an enormous head entered his window and gently retrieved some tidbits from his hand. We couldn’t move for some time as two rams decided the road would be theirs for the moment….moments. You just don’t take away a ram’s place on the road if he isn’t willing to give it up. Ever see a ram’s horns? If so, you’d appreciate our circumstances and the rule about staying in our cars at all times. Vehicles behind us didn’t understand why we stayed stationary, not being able to see around the bend where the two big horned, shaggy rams were doing what they do best; being stubborn. At last they got bored and shuffled off to buffalo.

Then, as we finally rounded the bend we discovered two of the cutest little deer off to the side. Just standing there with the sweetest big eyes, looking famished though I know they were well fed. I made the mistake of moving my arm and they mistook that for an invitation to eat. We were nearly depleted of the food that was allotted to us at the entrance, but how could we say no. Out the window went our hands with treats and two soft little lips took food from us, no fear of being placed over someone’s mantle or in someone’s freezer.

All these exotic animals (not counting the deer, there’s plenty of them here in Texas) that we’ve only seen on TV or caged in zoos just plodded up to us. Let us handle them, feed them, and take pictures of them.

Well, I should mention the cheetahs and wolves were reminders that wild animals still needed some reverence. They were in confined areas, tucked safely away so we couldn’t feed them, or rather, so we wouldn’t be their food. This is where my bubble burst. I was having a wonderful time imagining what Adam and Eve must have felt like before the fall. You know, that brief time when all nature was in harmony and it was Adam’s job to name all living creatures and be their keeper. That brief time when man and wild life were friends and both ate vegetation. That brief time when the earth was pristine and at peace with God.

How I wish things were like that again. What a legacy our first parents could have given us. The freedom to walk around naked, the freedom to call the whole earth home, to roll about with tigers, lions and bears, oh my! To walk with God in the garden at night fall, to eat anything we wanted except….Well that is the true part of our legacy, the fall; when our first parents broke the cardinal rule. When they ate what was forbidden them. When animals and man became enemies, when we had to be careful what we ate, where we walked and called home.

At least for a few hours I got a taste of what was and could have been. What a minute, I also got a taste of what is to come. When lion and lamb, wolf and calf, bear and child will all lie down together and call each other friend. When once again we’ll all be able to walk with God in the garden at nightfall.

A tribute to a friend

I knew her first as Mrs. Taylor, Lynnda, my best friend’s mother. Then over the years I got permission to call her Jimmy (it seems Mrs. Taylor was her mother-in law!). She was a wonderful lady, full of stories about her father and the Boy Scouts. She glamorized her father in my eyes. Man she built him up, but I thought it was just the ramblings of a proud daughter. Someone who really loved her dad, no problems with that.

Then one sad day this July first I got an email from Lynnda, she was on her way to Missouri where her mother had gone for a speaking engagement at a Boys Scout function, (what else? Scouting was her life) fallen, started bleeding into her brain, went comatose and was only given hours to live. (She actually held on to July 4th, being patriotic she waited till the last firecracker popped before expiring!) That started four days of phone calls back and forth between Lynnda and me. Lynnda even emailed me the newspaper articles about her mother. Apparently her mother was big news in Kansas City. The only daughter and child of H. Roe Bartle. I was impressed. Still, to me, she had always been a wonderful lady, my best friend’s mother. Someone whose table I’d eaten at, whose house I’d spent the night in, who I went to Branson with, who babysat my dogs for me when I went out of town. She was Jimmy. Not just only daughter and child of H. Roe Bartle.

I had to “Google” this guy. There were volumes of hits with his name. Wow. Jimmy’s dad was famous, at least in his part of the country. He was friends of presidents, the FBI, governors…Ect... Ect. He started a Boy Scout tribe in Kansas that is one of a kind, fashioned after our American Indian Heritage. It still bears his name, The H. Roe Bartle Scout Reservation and it hosts thousands of scouts yearly. This guy was like an Apostle Paul impersonator, going about doing good works, and making a difference. His grave can even be viewed on findagrave.com.

Then I got the brainstorm to “Google” Jimmy. My friend’s mother also had her name plastered over the internet. Friend of Scouts. Motivational speaker. Only daughter of H. Roe Bartle. I was learning more about Jimmy Bartle Taylor than I knew when she was alive. Well maybe I‘d heard her mention these things over forty years in small slices and forgotten most of it but now I really researched her family and the scouts. I couldn’t get enough; reading about her brought her back to live. It was a crash course in history. But it all followed on the heels of her death. Why did I have to wait till she died to rediscover and discover all these things? I wish she was here now so I could ask her questions about her dad and about the scouts. Now I have to learn everything myself by reading.

When Lynnda got back home I went to see her. Jimmy’s house was right next door (she had recently bought a double wide trailer and set it on Lynnda’s lot so they could be close to each other) and I asked to walk through it in hopes of feeling her spirit or at the least just walking where she had walked. It had become hallow ground that would never be touched by her feet again. It had become sort of a shrine in my mind; her importance magnified in my imagination. No, she was still Jimmy, my friend, and my friend’s mother. She was very important to me because of who she was. I took two things from her house, mementoes. A bear magnet (it symbolized her tribal name of “Lone Bear Princess,” and another magnet that had a small picture of her in a red hat. Not worth much to anyone, but priceless to me. I’ll place them on my refrigerator so I, won’t forget her, not that that’s possible. Then I sat in Lynnda’s living room and watched a DVD they played at Jimmy’s funeral. From birth to death, there was her life. Awesome. The life of a woman going through life’s developmental stages, rites of passage. Sitting on granny’s lap, going to high school , getting married, having kids, grand kids, great grandkids. A normal woman. My friend. Lynnda’s mother. I was promised a copy. Thank you, Lynnda.

Why is it we learn more about people after they die? At funerals I’ve always discovered things about the honoree that I never knew when they were alive. All this reminds me of a man that lived two thousand years ago. He was someone’s son and friend. He ate with people, traveled with people and slept over at their houses. (I don’t know about babysitting pets?) He was not very famous while he was alive but after he died volumes have been written about him. He can be “Googled” and researched, made larger than life. He spent thirty years as someone’s son, the only son and child of God, the firstborn actually. He was the first Boy Scout, on a mission to build his entourage of twelve. He spent three years going about doing good and making motivational speeches then he died. I bet very little was written about him while he breathed, except maybe on wanted posters. (He still is on wanted posters!) Volumes have been written since. I still research him daily, reading about him in the gospels and epistles. People travel to wear he lived, to walk the hallow grounds his feet had touched. We can’t find his grave on findagrave.com because it’s empty! Sometimes it takes death to get our energy directed on the correct path. If Jimmy hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have spent so much time reading about her, if Jesus hadn’t died (an don’t forget rose again) no one would be interested in reading about him. Do you think he’s worth investigating? Reading about him could bring him back to life, in your heart! Google him and find out what could be a new revelation for you.

post independence day reflections

It's independence Day. A day we celebrate our independence from a foreign dictator, a king who cared nothing about us except for our revenue potential. We were just another feather in his cap, er, crown, in the race to own more and more of the globe. He taxed us to replace the money spent on his wars. Wars to increase his domain, which we were just another part of. We fought to be free of a King who lived across the ocean and taxed us without representation. Many died for that freedom. Young kids who hunkered down next to fathers(mothers), brothers (sisters), uncles (aunts) and neighbors with guns firing away at other men and dying for their country, far away from blood relatives and friends . Lots of innocent men died for us to have our freedom. A freedom that is actually vanishing bit by bit over the years as our taxes increase(again), (let's not mention the role of the IRS in robbing us of our peace of minds) our jobs lay us off, Homeland Security makes new laws to track, fingerprint and x-ray us before we get on a plane just to name a few .

We celebrate this day, Independence Day, whole heartedly, caping it off with tremendous displays of fireworks nationwide and even from house to house.Even though that was over two hundred and thirty three years ago and we never experienced the same tyranny and oppression. Living in the land of the free we know very little about tyranny and oppression except from the news and stories of soldiers returning from countries torn by civil wars. Thousands of us gather in parks to ooh and ahh through "rocket's red glare", after "rocket's red glare" and wear star spangled banner decorated t-shirts and hats. Yes we are glad to be free. Yes we honour those that gave us that freedom.

But a celebration even greater goes on high above us, in a galaxy far, far away. Whenever one of us, and it only takes one, chooses to become dependent on a king far, far away, yet closer than we can even imagine,(I hear he lives within our hearts!) angels set off a gala that makes ours look like a bash thrown with dime store products. (And we each get personal fireworks, yes our very own!) When we become dependent on God we have freedom bought at the price of only one man, only one innocent man's blood was shed, and he is our representation before the Almighty, representing a people he has actually spent time with on earth. Time he used developing a personal relationships. This King, in a far away galaxy, truthfully cares for each one of us as individuals. There is nothing we can give him financially to keep him happy, he has no need to increase his domain, as everything the eyes can see, and can't, already belong to him. You see, that foreign king, years ago, died trying to own land that wasn't his, it was only on loan from one higher than him, it was an illusion that this country belonged to him. Whereas our dependence on the Great Almighty is more real than anything seen by flesh and blood, the unseen being far greater than things seen. And tracking us, not a problem for me, I find great comfort in knowing he really does know where I am at all times, and it is reciprocated, as I know where to find him whenever I'm in trouble; In my heart.

I truly appreciate those who gave their lives for our national freedom and God given rights but I'm more thankful that I had the sense to give up my independence to a King who became a sacrifice for us and whose kingdom people are dying to get into.

Psalm 50:10
Luke 15:7
2 Corin. 4:18
eph. 4:16
Col. 1:13-16