South Third Neighbors ...

“Love your neighbor as yourself” … Wish that it could be said that we enjoyed each and every one of our neighbors. But the fact is … like some of our very own family members … that will just never be the case.

Searching the recesses of my mind … there’s not even one neighbor that I can recall from Gulkana Street in Palmer, Alaska. Sad, when you think about it. Then there were ‘Rogers Lane’ and later ‘Orchard Street’, here in good ole Silverton. Not many neighbors to be found on either, but we did make some connections. Nonetheless … South Third Street ... indeed, quite the different story.

 Our arrival onto South Third came in September of 1987. And though that is the year and month that we perpetually planted ourselves onto this street, it had previously become a favorite. Every Spring we would make our annual drive down the street to enjoy its bountiful array of pink flowering Plum trees. Sadly, today only a few remain. You see, though they presented quite the amazing beauty while they flowered for those two weeks in the Spring, it was the definite mess that the plums left behind, makes one understand the reason for their demise.

Those early years included neighbors such as Lloyd and Ginny. Not only ‘next-door’ neighbors, but often their yard became a familiar landmark for first-timer visitors to our home. How, you ask? I would tell a friend, “Turn right on Third from Main street. Drive three blocks, looking for the ‘park-like’ setting on your left. Back up one house, that’s ours.” I have never known a neighbor who has kept such a beautiful place. We were always grateful for the amazing colors that were but a few steps away.

South Third Street 'Ash' Tree

Those early years were also enjoyed by Lloyd Mosher. Lloyd’s ‘Mosher 1917’ imprint into the concrete continues marking the antiquity of his house some one hundred and seven years earlier. It was Lloyd who settled a slight discrepancy for the age of our home. We had two documents that were in conflict. One stated the year of construction as 1942, another as 1910. When I asked Lloyd, he was quick to respond, “Well, 1910 of course”! “How can you be so sure” I asked? With a grin as wide as the street he said, “Because I lived in your house in 1916 while I was building mine”. Ok then, Case closed!

Next to Lloyd was ole Elmer & Dora Palmquist. Watching as they slowly … I mean “slowly”, drove their late model AMC Rambler … aka “Kenosha Cadillac” down the street was just too darn cute. Or, they would walk hand in hand … again slowly down South Third Street. Chatting was always a pleasure! After Elmer died, Dora would frequently be seen walking, typically with a rolling cart behind, off to the store or to volunteer at one of several area organizations. Whenever I was out front and I saw her as she moseyed along the sidewalk, I would pop out to enjoy a brief chat about her days activities. Much to my surprise, once when I asked she said, “Well today, that is every Thursday, I volunteer at Northwest Medical Teams” (now ‘Medical Teams International). I said, “Seriously? We’ve supported them for several years, and I’ve traveled with them four or five times.” We laughed at the coincidence, and thereafter would include our current activity into our chats.

~ The Bennett's 1920's ~

But … my all-time Dora favorite was that particular day when I asked, “So Dora, where are you volunteering today?” With a humble smile of complete innocence, she was quick to say, “Well, I’m off to help the ‘old’ people”. Now mind you, she was into her late 80’s by this time. Indeed Dora you are … “Off to help the ‘old’ people” :) Love it!

Our days on good ole ‘South Third Street’ are approaching thirty-seven years at the end of the month. We’ve experienced many changes over these past four decades. Two of the most significant both have to do with age. On one hand we have watched as the neighborhood went from families with many children to an older group with few kids. And now, over the past couple of years … well, let’s just say, we’re close to fielding two full baseball teams. It is a thing of beauty to watch as several, I mean several, gather at one of four homes … disconnected from electronics … they simply play. Now, as one of those “older” ones, it is a joy. Though there has been a mom or two, from time to time, that have apologized for the noise. “Are you kidding me? Children playing” … I have always said, “No, that is music!”

And on the other hand … older means, well … We’ve now seen our fair share of neighbors who have breathed their last. A couple weeks ago … that neighbor was Kathryn. For over twenty years Kathryn and I enjoyed many fine conversations. We were never at a loss, reflecting about our travels, telling about the joy of world and domestic experiences. Both working for various non-profits. Or, it was very easy to strike up a conversation about grandchildren. This morning as I write … Oh, how I would love to walk directly across the street, just to enjoy one more conversation. So glad that you were greatly loved by your family, neighbors, and those very special care providers. Rest in peace my dear friend. Rest in peace!

And neighbor Terri, she tells me that only a few hours after Kathryn’s death … a baby was born next door to her. And new breath enters again onto ‘South Third Street’.

Jesus said in Matthew 22, “Love the Lord your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.” Thank you ‘Third Street’ … you have taught me … taught us … the second most valuable lesson of life. Today … this day … and tomorrow … might this lesson continue. Perhaps you’ll never be as chatty as Mr. Rick … it’s a gift. Ha! But … you too … you can be the one to love your neighbor. Give it a try … you might be surprise at the gift you’ll receive.

Funny … or, coincidence … as I’m concluding this, a lady, is walking down the middle of the street, pushing a stroller with her baby aboard. And, I ask, “How old”? “Seven months”! She replies. “Enjoy!” Yep, this is ‘South Third Street’!

I Have A Sister in Oregon ...

Walking through the ‘breezeway’ brought exactly that … a cool refreshing Maine breeze. Set a mere fifteen minutes from Saco Bay and the amazing New England coast. This peaceful farm of one hundred and sixty acres provides the most excellent venue for the very reason for which our family had arrived. A nephews wedding to a most lovely bride.

 A chair, or a swing under a shade tree could easily allow one to lose him or herself for hours. Like a family reunion, weddings often connect those whom you seldom see. Most often, it is the distance that brings lack of conversation & meetings. Yet sometimes it is the odd twist of an estranged relationship.

 More than thirty years had past. The reason of estrangement … it is of little significance for this particular blog. During those same thirty years … many, many visits … had allowed amazing bonds between mutual loved ones. And though attempts were often made in those early years, the proverbial door was never opened. Rather walls … barricades … were in place, with which communicated … not now. And, not ever!

 The band played wonderful sixties & seventies music. Laughter & conversations, along with smiles & children playing … was the most evident atmosphere. A dance … a hug … a kiss … a picture. Laughing … loving … reminiscing of days gone by. Special moments for a special couple, and their loved ones.

  … Strolling over, I smiled and said, “So, how did we get so old?” “I don't know.” He said. “They definitely go by fast!” “A very beautiful venue for a wedding”. I remarked. “Oh yes it is!” He continued. “Yesterday I took a walk down to the pond and into the trees.” “We have several venues just like this in Oregon”. I stated. To which he responded, “I have a sister in Oregon”. Calling his name, I said, “And I'm her husband”. His bewilderment was more than striking. I slowly drifted away.

Minutes later I returned as he took a picture of a lovely granddaughter & her boyfriend. “Let me take one of the three of you”. I said. “Oh no. That's okay.” He said. Again, smiling, “Please, allow me. You'll never be able to capture this setting”. “Yes grandpa!” She said. Handing me his camera, “This button, correct?” I said. “Yes”, he said. A couple pictures, and I handed the camera back to him.

Though our first twelve years of marriage had us frequently meeting, usually in New England. Three decades of barricading himself from our lives … for absolutely no good reason … had totally erased any remembrance of my face. Of course, as I began … We're old  :) Yet … our face … our smile … too me … unforgettable!

The morale of the story … when does the water actually go under the bridge. No one … other than the three of us know the whole story. They wouldn't care if they knew. And they would think … “You haven't spoke to each other for more than thirty years because of this?” It is said, “There are two sides of the story”. Indeed! But honestly … I have long not cared about the story. I care about the missed time. No … the lost time. He has absolutely no idea of who she is. What she's been through. The lives that she has touched. And perhaps … unfortunately … it will remain so.

For moi … I'm too old to care about the drama! Let's move on. Let's cross this bridge. Let's smile … Make memories. The world creates more than sufficient drama within itself. I'm done with the drama! Perhaps the song is right … “Don't worry, be happy”. I can not be responsible for you … how you'll respond. But … I am damn sure responsible for how I respond. And I choose to respond by floating under that bridge … Brightly smiling, as the kayak crashes over & through the waves. Knowing that turbulence is a regular, if not, a daily part of life. And living as a favorite author puts it, “Stop living … Only when you die!”

 

 

"You Are!"

 … Joseph, whose wife had recently died, sat on his bed crying desperately. The agonizing dream was once again a painful reminder of the lost of his lifetime partner, and friend. ~ He cry's ... saying, “Mary, you left too soon … You left too soon”. His son, Henry, having heard his father’s weeping, walks into his bedroom. Setting aside their profound differences … Henry’s compassion overpowers their decades of hostility to each other.

The father, a Judge … the son, a Chicago city Lawyer … brought together only due to their absolute love of the same woman. To one, his wife … the other, his mother.

Swiftly … in lawyer-like manner, Henry attempts to distract Joseph. “Hey, who’s the best lawyer you’ve ever seen?” He asks. “Come on! Mines Robert Graham. I work for him. He just … he doesn’t lose. Now you … Uh” … It only takes Joseph but a couple moments, and then he responds, “Mr. Shaw. My first job after Law School.”

Then, as surprising to the audience … is Henry, as he hears Joseph … his father, then states Mr. Shaw’s full name. “Henry Shaw”, he says. To which Henry ... with an 'Oh my' look replies, “Henry?”. For the very first time in his life, Henry realizes the man for whom he was named. A man, for whom his father greatly admired!

Henry, most frequently was the author of his own trauma. And, his father, Judge, most definitely produced a strong arm of strictness, when it concerned Henry. Judge would say, that due to Henry’s truancy, his son required this type of discipline. Joseph remarked, “You were headed down the wrong path. I did what I thought was right”. ~~ Yet, even with their severe history, Henry, from deep within his core, was able to manufacture some immediate and required compassion.

And though, as the story continues … and their hostility likewise … the viewer is brought to the nonpareil scene. Father and son, on a beautiful Indiana morning … casting from their small fishing boat. Likely a lake that they had often fished together.

Henry reaches down and picks up an old familiar treat, to which Joseph says, “Give me some of those.” Henry grabs a handful of ‘Bit-O-Honey’ and places them into his father’s hand. “You little gremlins inhaled these”. Dad coughs a bit, and Henry asks, “You want some water”. Joseph replies, “No”. And then Joseph asks, “Remember what you’d say if you thought I had one on me?” In unison they respond, “Where’s my ‘Bit-O-Honey’ old man?” They chuckle … “Worked every time”, grins Henry.

Joseph, with a slight sigh, looks away and contemplates … then says perhaps two of the most powerful words. They are words of affirmation. Words … well, I’ve watched this scene more than fifty times … and the response … always … always chokes me up. Even a couple times with moments of uncontrollable tears. Why? Why does it still hurt?

My father died nearly fourteen years ago. Yet, our last meeting … the very last time that I was ever beside my own father … was more than twenty years from today … then, January of 2004 ... six and one half years before Richard Ray died. Six and one half years before he died ... was the last time we ever sat beside one another. And today, June of 2024 ... the pain ... Why does that pain still reside so deep within my chest? And though not as severe as Joseph and Henry … Rick and yes, Rick, had been estranged. Thankfully … only weeks before his death, while attempting to bring some reconciliation … like Joseph and Henry, we concluded via email with some positive correspondence. And then … like a miracle moment … after more than nine months without a single chat … my father called on the very morning that he died. I would not receive that message for another three days … as our family was vacationing on the Oregon coast. A message, that I am grateful to have received … to have recorded.

So … Henry, waiting for his father’s reply … looks into his father’s face. His ball-cap rest upon his head. Joseph, a fishing hat, upon his. As Joseph says, “You are!” Henry, chewing on another fabulous piece of ‘Bit-O-Honey’ says, “I am?” Joseph, “Yeah”. Henry, “What?” Joseph, likewise chewing on his ‘Bit-O-Honey’ says, “The question you asked me about … the best lawyer and all.” Henry, still unsure of his father’s point … stares with a slight quizzical look, as Joseph pauses … slowly looks down. And repeats, “You are!” … Joseph continues, “You picked a person you worked with”. Joseph with another slight pause, looks down and then into Henry’s eyes, and says, “I choose you!”

Henry … with immediate moisture in his eyes, obviously fighting back the tears, glances down into the boat. The seconds seem like minutes. Henry, still with his eyes lowered. Joseph … dad, still chewing with both a slight smile and nod. Pause … more chit chat … Then Henry reaches for the fishing rod and … before making one last cast, says, “Five bucks I catch a sun fish before you”. Without a response … Joseph … Judge … Dad … slowly bows his head. A half a minute goes by … a ‘Bit-O-Honey’ wrapper falls to the bottom of the fishing boat. Henry … seeing dad slightly slumped over, quietly says, “Dad … … Dad”. And I say, “Wow!”

How I long for … how so many children … they long to hear those words … “You are!” Please … I urge you. Please … don’t let another day go by. Before you tell your children … that they are. You may never get another chance. Oh … how I would love to have … just one more chance … one time … to hear my dad say … “Rick, you are!”

 

Judge, a 2014 movie starring Robert Downey Jr as Henry, and Robert Duvall, as Joseph/Judge. Some definite language that is not appropriate for children. The story ... very powerful! 

 

 a favorite ... Mark Schultz ... Lord 'Before You Call Me Home' ...

 

And ... that last call ... the morning that he died ...

Canyonview ... A Milestone Indeed!

Beard & Corduroy Suit :)

 Some call it, ‘The Ditch’. With a gorgeous creek that runs through its core. Cabins, fields, a lake, horses, and children fill this place ~ simply called Canyon … View. And indeed it is!

It was late Spring or early Summer of 1981. Whether it was a potluck, a church event, or perhaps a barbecue … I do not remember. What I recall is that Karen and I had began considering life after the Air Force. Would we remain in the beautiful state of Alaska, and if not, where would we go, and why? Though my discharge was still a year away, we needed to begin planning for our fast approaching future. Would we continue along the military track, or make a change. And, if we changed … what would that look like.

~ Dr. Campbell ~

High on our list of considerations was attending a Bible College. Though Karen had never lived in the PNW … ‘Pacific Northwest’, she was very open to the idea of relocating there. In 1977 I had began my career as a firefighter with the Fremont National Forest, in Bly, Oregon. Frequently my days off were spent venturing particularly around the southern part of the state. With these travels, Oregon had indeed captured my heart, and I believed that it would do the likewise for Karen. So our search began throughout Oregon, Washington and even into British Columbia.

In steps Mark Sterns. Both Mark and our family had come to know each other as we transitioned from one church in Palmer, Alaska to another. Mark had begun receiving a monthly periodical called, ‘The Bible Expositor’. The 'Expositor' was essentially a monthly mini commentary from Bible Teaching Inc, or Canyonview Bible College, in Silverton, Oregon. Most of the articles were written by the President and Founder of the College, Ernie Campbell. Though both Karen and I had only become followers of Christ within the previous five years, the articles found in the ‘Expositor’ brought a definite enthusiasm and interest to dive further into the scriptures. To such extent that we began receiving the Expositor ourselves, and even ordered Dr. Campbell’s first commentary, on the book of Galatians. And since … We might become residents of Silverton, we began a subscription to their local newspaper … called, ‘The Silverton Appeal’.

 

Well … as they say, “The rest is history”. And a grand history that it was, and continues to be. Forty years ago today … Oh my goodness! Of all the significant milestones … crossroads … our two years at Canyonview Bible Seminary from 1982 through May 31, 1984, indeed stand within the top ten. The highlight was the special opportunity to become efficient in reading, translating and parsing the Greek New Testament. As mentioned in Proverbs 16:9, I count it a great honor and privilege that in the midst of our plans, God directed our steps to Canyonview in the early 1980’s.

Our days in ‘The Ditch’, will forever be fondly remembered as a key crossroads in our lives. Thanks to all who participated during those seminary days. And indeed for those who continue be active here in 2024. ... We pray God's rich blessing upon your lives. To Jeff, Barb, Jim, Cheryl, John, Denise, Mike, Sarah, Chuck, Debbie, Toby, Will, Doug, Phil, Renae, Sue, two Beth's, 'Flashlight' Gary, Steve, Mark, Nancy ... and ... I'm sure that I must be forgetting some. Thank you Lord for directing that season of our lives, when we converged onto that endearing 'Ditch'.  

 

'Drift Creek' ~ through Canyonview

 And, as Paul Harvey would say, "And now, the rest of the story"! ... When Mark left for Oregon early Fall of 1981, we asked, that after a few months, to send us an update of what he was learning and to tell about the surrounding area. More than two months went by, and we had not received such an update. After sending a letter to Mark, again the mailbox was empty. So, we attempted a different route. We sent him a 'Multiple Choice' letter. 'A' Are you in a Cult? ... 'B' Have you been taken by aliens? ... 'C' and so forth :) Mark did respond, just not according to our fun multiple choice. Ahhhh! Anyway, his answers were more than sufficient to make a final decision to attend Canyonview/Biblion Bible College. A decision that we NEVER regretted! And, by-the-way ... We were the first couple to take advantage of the two for one tuition offer. A savings of $1,500 per year. Yes! You read that correctly ... tuition was but a mere $1,500 per year per student. For $3,000 ... What an education!!!

 

And one last thought :) … Just one small glimmer of what that education from Canyonview Bible College/Seminary provided. An example through the power of words. And this … the most excellent word for this particular blog. That word is … παρακαλέω ~ A two part Greek word, παρα … beside, along side of ~ and, καλέω … to call. To call beside. In Romans 12:1, it is used as an appeal. Calling one, or many together to do what is right. As well, for example in I Thessalonian 5:18, or Colossians 4:8 … to encourage, or to comfort. Paul wanted the followers of Christ to be encouraged … to be comforted … to call them beside … place his arm around them … that regardless of the circumstances that currently surrounded them, or you, that they, and you can be encouraged. And so … I have been so very encouraged over these past forty years … through the appeal of scripture … and the urging of others … to continue the course, and be comforted until this very day. And then tomorrow … and then the next. And once again I say, “What an education”!

And in closing ... Might the 'Alaska' state flag proudly fly over the 'Ditch' once again :) Insiders joke

  

              ~ Canyonview Camp ~

 ~ Ernie Campbell ~ Arvid Johanson ~ Dale Price

 

Her Endearing Memory

Mom with Zachary Alan - 1985

 I guess that this must be ‘Milestone’ month. Fifteen years ago this year my maternal grandmother died. I
wrote in May of 2021 a blog in tribute to her that is entitled, “Her Smile”. Later this week I will post another blog that dates back exactly forty years. And today ~ well, today marks the thirty-fifth anniversary of my mothers death. I’ve written many blogs on her behalf, so what to compose within this particular one?

I’m reminded of her dear love to my beautiful wife. Mom loved Karen, as she did all of her son’s and daughter-in-laws. And Karen always sensed her deep love. Our one regret is that we only had mom for the first ten years of our marriage. Oh how much we would have appreciated, how Karen would have appreciated additional caring conversations, and special times together.

Portland Rose Garden ... 1985

Fixing Brandi's Hair for our wedding

It was mom … making it a priority to attend our wedding, even though we were in Alaska at the time. Treating Karen (along with Brandi & Josh) with such tender love and attention. Being there for everything that Karen needed her for, yet never pushy or overbearing. As well, Mom was the one who said that she would like to fly up to Oregon for the birth of our youngest. Once again, attending so preciously to the needs that were Karen’s. Mom never made it about herself. And it was mom, who so gently encouraged Karen during our Ohio visit in their home. While Karen dealt with a serious and stressful moment over a scary situation with our children, mom provided just the ear to be listened too, comforting words, and the arm to embrace.

And it would be mom and dad both at our home, then on ‘Orchard’, for the great strawberry blunder. Or, would that be 'blender'? The Willamette Valley was a most perfect location for some of the most delicious berries within the United States, and Strawberries was no exception. So with berries placed into the blender … mom, dad, Karen, and the three kids … all waited for dad’s most heavenly strawberry shake. The taste buds were ready to be delighted on this most spectacular warm, blue sky summer afternoon.

Obvious ~ Right :)

Checking the status of the ‘shake-master’, Karen walked into the kitchen to discover that her guy was stirring his masterpiece with a wooden spoon while the blender was in full operation. With a quizzical look, she said, “You should probably turn the blender off when you’re stirring”. To which I calmly replied, “It’s ok, I’ve got a good grip”! Walking toward the backyard, the wooden screen door had barely closed, when … yeah, you saw this one coming, as did Karen. Oh … but was this an accident? The entire crew walked into our recently cleaned kitchen. With smiles of … ‘I told you so’. Only to find Rick, straw in hand … sipping the 'seemingly accidental' strawberry shake off of the clean kitchen counter top. Nearly forty years later … boy, was that one tasty shake. Too bad the rest of you didn’t get to try it :)

Thanks mom for these and many other ‘Endearing Memories’! They are fondly & eternally found within the recesses of our minds.

 

 

From a 'Cell', to a 'Cell'

 Under the same roof, yet … for years … we found ourselves no closer. Our eyes … would turn away. Our arms … never to touch. The hate … it was mutual. The streets, they were my home … The drugs … the buying – taking – dealing … this was my life. The tattoo’s … the piercings … these were my purpose … my reason to live. Change … never possible – except for one who is the master of impossibilities. A man … a child … not even his mother did love. 

Though I was guilty of a shameful life. I was not guilty for the charges that they placed against me. Charges that indeed would send me to prison for a very long time. A prison cell … this was to be my next home. Except for God … His mysterious ways …

His challenge … with one purpose … to bring that very change. Why I agreed … No reason, other than – the fact that he cared. Someone cared. "Three times", he said – "And if after those three times … you do not become a Christian … I will walk away from Christ."

So, on the following two Sundays I found myself in church. Nothing … absolutely nothing! If this God was real … he was real only to these crazy, insane people in this church. A third day … a third time was out of the question. There was no reason. There was no purpose … no change that was possible. My life … Stop trying to change me! Let ... me ... live ... my life! Yes, my life! Leave me be!

Why he persisted … only God knows. But he called … “Jarol, you said that you would attend three times, not two.” With disgust, and with my blood boiling and my teeth gritting … I agreed, one more time. One last time! Yes, one last time. And then, please stop!

As I expected … the third time came as no surprise. They sang … they danced … they preached. Wanting to leave before anyone could come over to greet me, I slowly began to walk out. It was my intention. I smirked. “These silly, foolish people” … I thought. “They call themselves Christians. I’m better off on the streets!” ~~ I find no other reason that I turned around … other than the Father … Calling me. “Jarol”. I no sooner turned, that I found myself walking to the front. Bowing … who is this? “Jarol, you are broken. You no longer need to be a slave to your brokenness.”

I don’t believe that I’ve ever been as broken as Jarol … but, I as well, yes, I have indeed been broken. I ask, “Who has not”? For Jarol, his brokenness brought change. A life of change, that included a different kind of ‘cell’. A bible study ‘cell’ group. Learning about forgiveness. Learning about a God, One who sent His son … Jesus … to die at Calvary. To die for the sins of the broken. And then … don’t you love ~ ‘And then’s’? And then, Jesus rose again the third day. Hallelujah! We too are raised with Him to a new life. A grateful life of service. A life that has received abundant grace. A life to love the One who has so loved us.

There is baseball … there is ‘Xolos’ baseball in the states of Sonora and Jalisco, Mexico. Baseball, to the Miskito children in Nicaragua … and now El Salvador. There is RSA … Reid Saunders Association … There is ‘Jarol’. Whose life on the streets brings a unique ability, and opportunity. One, that I do not have. Is this, was this Your plan? What we set out to do has been accomplished. Or ... is there more? I ask. I pray. Is there more? Baseball … Jarol, from the streets of El Salvador. And … thousands of cartel children abandoned by their fathers. “Lord, I ask. Are You leading? Is there suppose to be more? And if more, what does more look like?”

For now … I am grateful for a second visit … a second ministry offering to the people of Ahuachapán. I am grateful to have the opportunity to take baseball to this beautiful area. I am so grateful to have met so many wonderful people. To be blessed beyond my greatest imagination. For now I have added another name to this guy, whose uncle Ronnie called him ‘Kid’. Yes, I am now "Richard Alan Jopp Imaizumi Vega Gutierrez Asabi Ruiz Alvarado Williams". :) Thank you Jarol, Ester and Sofie, for allowing me to become part of your family. 

~~ Where and how the Lord directs from here … Through time and prayer … His journey, and His plan will be laid out before us. As spoken by the apostle James, “If the Lord wills”. Indeed, “If the Lord wills”, the orchestrator of this life will make known, and will put into motion the steps that He will direct. As Jarol turned around on that third time, and was lead to the altar. As the Father called him to salvation and to a life of service. So we come before Your altar Lord. We commit these thoughts onto You. 

 Might these songs by Zach Williams (no relation) touch your heart for what the Father can accomplish to the broken. "I'm no longer a slave to fear. I am a child of God"

 

Let Us be 'Fishers' ~ Not Phishers of Men

 Why not??? As they come ‘phishing’ for us, might we return the favor … Let us be fishers of men.

Just in the past two days I’ve posted two vehicles for sale on two different sites, including ‘Facebook Marketplace’. Oh my goodness! The first (and so far only) three responses of interest have come from those on “Phishing” expeditions. What a sad world of people who would rather steal than work. So, I’ve decided that if they are going to go “Phishing”, so will I. Ha!

First, a word to the wise … or, as may be the case, the unwise, or naively gullible. In this electronic ‘www’ world … where the internet, that has many wonderful qualities, it can also be a place for the most reprehensible of mankind. They would rather “phish” for your information, rob you blind, and be absolutely fine while completing their shameful behavior.

How did I recognized the ‘phishing’ of “Will”, “Michael”, and “Noel”? “Michael” was the best. His/her spelling was correct, and then during our correspondence, provided me with what appeared to be a legit email. They start slowly, asking about the vehicle or product. They want to arrange a time and location. I would suggest a store. But then ~ ‘Boom … shakalaka!’ “Can you send me a VIN (Vehicle Identification Number) report”? That, by itself is not a problem. The problem lies in the website that they wish to use. I let “Michael” know that I already have a report from the website that I’m using. To which “Michael” replies, “Sorry but I haven't heard about this site before so I'm not sure about it. I trust the data of the site which I've used before so I would appreciate it if you can pull one from here.” It is clicking onto this site, and providing information, when the “Phishing” expedition receives its “Hook, line and sinker”. Gotcha!

From here on out, I will begin any interest with my product with, “I have a verified VIN Report, so please do not request for one”. Also, do not provide phone numbers or any other personal information.

So … what have I done, and will continue to do? I am, and will become a true 'Fisher of Men'. Like me, a sinner, they as well have a need for the cross of Christ Jesus, our Savior. For whom, in the next two weeks, we will celebrate ‘Easter’. The man from Galilee, who became the Rabbi and Master for twelve, and would die at the hands of the authorities. He shed His blood on a cross made of wood. They placed Him in a tomb. But ~ Thanks be to God ~ the tomb could not defeat Him. No! On the third day, Jesus rose from the grave, for whom we celebrate.

And you too ~ Romans says, “All have sinned, and fall short of God’s glory”. And continues, “But God demonstrated His love for us, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly”. I don’t know about you, but myself, along with these “Phishers” of men, are placed into that category. “But, the free gift of God, is eternal life through Jesus”. And what are you, and what can you do about this? Know that your sin, that my sin, that the “phishers” sin, has separated us from a holy God. But God, even when we were dead in our sins, because of His mercy, He saved us. And Romans again continues in chapter 10, verses 9 & 10 with, “If we confess with our mouth that Jesus is lord, and believe in our heart that God raised Him from the dead, we can be saved.” Why, “Because with the heart, one believes”, that Jesus has provided the righteousness … He has rescued us from our sins. And, “With the mouth, one confesses and is saved” from those sins.

In the gospel of John, Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no one comes to the Father, but through me”.

I ask, “What will you do with this information”? For me, thanks be to God, I believe in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And with such, I choose to be a “Fisher of Men”. And will continue to state such to these lost “Phishers” of men. Might God have mercy on their souls, as He has on mine.