HIGH ON A MOUNTAINTOP

Ok...so we go through a lot of valleys.

It is when we have our 'mountaintop' experiences that we feel most alive. It is not necessarily when we feel that God is most with us. Many times when we feel we are at the top of the world, we think we made it all happen and fail to give God the glory. We often say: "look at me! look at what I did! I'm so great!" When all along He allowed us to shine, and the shine should have glorified Him and not us. We need to learn to be humble in these situations.

Why don't most of us feel the presence of God when we are at these extremes? Why do we most feel His presence when we are on level ground and in our safe places. Being on a mountaintop, while it feels great to us is not what it is all about. God wants us to be full of life all the time.

John 10:10.....and He is come that we may have life, and have it more abundantly.

Savor the mountaintop experiences, look around, enjoy the scenery, but remember the One that put you there!

DOWN IN THE VALLEY

Wikipedia describes a valley a type of landform. A valley is a long "depression" or (low part) in the land, between two higher parts which might be hills or mountains.

When we think of our spiritual life, the second part usually applies. A depression or low part.

Some valleys are deep, some are wide, some are desolate, some are lush, but they all have the same thing in common; when you stand in the midst of a valley, your vision to the horizon and the goings on in the rest of the world or life is very limited. You can't get a complete picture of the landscape as you could while atop a mountain, where you can survey all God has created.

Let's look at some valleys and see where we fit in:

Death Valley, Great Rift Valley.

Nile Valley, Mississippi Valley.

Happy Valley, Shenandoah Valley.

You go from the most desolate, to the sublime, then to an area of complacency as you feel yourself climbing up the sides till you are beginning to finally see your surroundings. It is then when we are able to see all around ourselves that we feel most at home and somewhat at peace. While we are never alone when we walk those valley floors, devoid of what we perceive as joy. We must understand that He is always with us. Just as He is with us when we stand at the rim of a valley and decide which way to go next. Do we take a step backwards or do we trudge onward and upward?

We make the choice.

THERE WILL BE NO TEARS IN HEAVEN

No tears in heaven. Only rejoicing.

I know I shed my fair share of tears, and if combined with Sharla's we could probably start a small flash flood.

This evening found us in a tearful prayer time, rebuking the devil and seeking guidance in a ongoing matter in which we struggle. As we prayed, Carson prayed along with us, thanking the Lord for his day and to help him be good. Then he said " I'll be your tissue Mommy" as he noticed the tears in her eyes.

Immediately I'm reminded of the passage in Revelation 7:17..and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.

Carson didn't want to see his mommy cry and wanted to wipe away her tears.

Just as the Lord will comfort us in our time of need. We look forward to that day when there will be no more tears, what a day of rejoicing that will be!

WALKING THE WALL

Sunday afternoon at Nanny and PawPaw's house was always eventful. After the football game was over and before the Lawrence Welk show started, Ellis and Myrtle headed back to Huntington and PawPaw was ready to take a walk.

He always walked the three blocks down Carter Avenue from Ringo Street to the Mussetter Super Value. He counted out his change in anticipation of a new can of Skoal. On days such as these, us kids got to walk with him. However, we wouldn't let him take the straight shot down Carter, we wanted to take a slight detour and 'walk the wall'.

Now, the 'wall', was not some dangerous precipice that could endanger the life of a child if they fell from it's great height; it was only a little over 3 feet high and you could only fall onto the brick paved alley as the wall butted up against a house and your shoulder kept in constant contact as you inched along.

The wall was easily accessible as it inclined up from the curb and descended 40 feet later likewise. PawPaw would hold our hand as we walked, only turning us free about midway where the telephone pole forced us to break our grasp and squeeze between it and the house. At the end of the wall there was a vociferous barking dog behind a wire fence. It would have eaten us alive it if could have reached us. PawPaw always ended our 'wall walk' with a taunt to the barking dog. He would near the fence and with a pointed finger he always said the same line...."I'm gonna tie your tail in a knot!"

The mission continued onward to the store and always ended in a piece of candy or as PawPaw always called it 'blowgum'. On the return trip, we often would come back by the Hobby Shop, where he would usually buy us a Smoking Monkey or Balsa Glider. 10 cents worth of great fun.

Found these on Ebay...around $8 plus shipping

PEANUT PEPPERONI PIZZA PLEASE!

This morning during breakfast at McDonald's in Catlettsburg, Carson suddenly said," I have an idea! I want to open a pizza store and sell pizza that has pepperoni and peanuts, the customers will love it!

Dad and I looked quizzically at each other and Dad asked him where his store would be? he said "in my house."then he added he would also like to have a pizza 'mascot'...go figure!

OK ....pizza with only pepperoni and peanuts. That is some combination, but I wouldn't be surprised if that has not already been done somewhere. What about a sauerkraut pizza? Yep...I know where you can get one of those, and they are delicious. It's not the kind of sauerkraut you are used to. It is a homemade slightly sweet version at Dick's Pizza, located in a house on the river in Sciotoville, Ohio.
Stranger things have happened in the culinary world!

Any silent partners wanna invest in an oven and some boxes?

INTEGRITY?.. GO ON, NO ONE IS WATCHING YOU.

Integrity.

I've often heard it defined as: 'the person you are when no one is watching.'

Wikipedia defines it as:Integrity is the basing of one's actions on an internally consistent framework of principles.. Depth of principles and adherence of each level to the next are key determining factors. One is said to have integrity to the extent that everything he does and believes is based on the same core set of values. While those values may change, it is their consistency with each other and with the person's actions that determine his integrity.

This brings about my take on the steroid issue in Major League Baseball.

Last year I picked up a magazine at church; HomeLife. On the cover was a well known player and his wife. The magazine article was all about his family life and most importantly, how his Christian faith guides him in his daily activities and gives him the strength to succeed. After reading this, I held this guy in high esteem. He is standing up for his beliefs and being a witness for Christ and a role model for young men.

Then the Mitchell Report hits the media....naming names of all the known steroid users in the league and his name was near the top of the list! "Say it ain't so!!!!" My 'radar' tuned instinctively to him, waiting and watching to see how he would respond to the allegations, and hoping as a Christian that he would prove to be a man of integrity. Almost 2 months go by without a statement. Roger Clemens is plastered all over the airwaves and emphatically denies using any type of performance enhancing drug although his best friend and trainer claims in an affidavit that he injected him many times. The same trainer (Brian Macnamee) also said he injected Clemens' wife and Clemens' teammate Andy Pettitte.

Andy Pettitte. The man of integrity. Would he deny the allegations as Clemens did?, or would he tell the truth?

My faith was restored last week when Andy Pettitte delivered a 55 minute apology to the sporting world that he did use HGH (human growth hormone): a performance enhancing drug. He claims he used it in rehabilitation to get back into the game faster. He said he never used it to get an edge or to 'bulk up". He only wanted to help his elbow heal faster. He admitted that he was wrong and stood before the world to offer his repentance.

I know that many judge others by their actions. I was guilty of that. I immediately began to watch Mr. Pettitte to see that as a Christian man he would do the right thing.

We as Christians, are watched daily. We seem to be held to a higher example for those living in the world. They watch us from a distance, waiting for us to trip up, say the wrong thing or be in the wrong place. I admit that I was being 'one of those', watching to see what would happen. I was not watching to see 'IF' he would do the right thing, but 'WHEN' he would do the right thing. I knew he was a man of integrity.

While we are not to judge the salvation of another, we can judge the 'fruits' that they bear.

While Andy Pettitte may have fallen slightly ( as we all do), he has shown the world that the fruit he bears is ripe.

Pray for Godly people like Andy Pettitte, and those that surround you in your daily walk with Christ. Pray for them and hold them in high esteem, help them up when they stumble.

SNOW DAY SICK DAY

Snow Day and a sick day. I am stuck in the house, recovering. This is a progression of what took place in an hour this morn. Only the mailman braved the drive and then he griped because I was home and that he had no place to turn around at the top. He had to back/slide off the hill.






And now it is melting...but gonna be 15 degrees tonight...and don't forget the lunar eclipse.

THE VIENNA SAUSAGE CAN..an artifact of my generation.

In my backwoods adventures, bushwhacking across streams, valleys and through lush forest. I have often stopped and rested atop a moss-covered rock to take in the beauty of a stretch of green unspoiled wilderness, and thinking to myself that I could quite possibly be the first person ever to step foot in that particular little piece of Appalachia apart from Dan'l Boone himself.

Then as I shift my gaze from the horizon toward my feet, slowly rising to stand. My eyes are drawn just to the side of the rock and I see a dull gray cylindrical object half buried, poking out of the leaves at the base of a giant oak tree. Yep...it's a vienna can!

So..I wasn't the first person here after all.

Just when you begin to think those kind of thoughts, you stumble upon the kind of objects that let you know that the world is still very small. The vienna sausage can, pop/beer can with a pull top and one of those small red plastic sticks that is used to spread that nasty yellow cheese-like substance on some pre-packaged crackers.

According to scientists that study biodegradability,(would you call them biodegradabilityologists?) pop cans will be with us 50-100 years, the aluminum vienna can 80-100 years and the little plastic stick will probably last over 500 years.

I won't even mention how long they say styrofoam will be here.

I can only find in my research that the vienna sausage can only dates back to 1963, when Armour Meats packaged them and single-handedly began the planting of thick aluminum trail markers across our woodlands and pristine ridgetops, I shudder to think of the numbers that coat the bottoms of our lakes, as the company marketed them as an addition to any successful anglers tackle box. Not as bait as some think. While they have been packaged in cans I have heard references to jars. I don't know how long that dates back or what type of jar the sausages were packed in. I have a notion that they were packed similarly to dried beef and pimento cheese spreads in those small jars that many in Kentucky use as 'juice' glasses..you know the ones!

Vienna..pronounced as the city in Austria is the so-called proper pronunciation, pronounced as one word.However, in Kentucky we say it as if it is two words vi enny. Long i Long e.

It has been a staple in my life and has filled my hunting coat and fishing vest along with saltine

crackers for many years.

A coworker of mine told a story of a young lady he worked with in Portsmouth, Ohio who came to work one day showing everyone her new discovery at Kroger. Little hotdogs in a can! They are new. When they proceeded to tell her that they weren't new and probably packaged before she was born, she still didn't believe them. She tasted one, made a face and the guys gobbled up the remaining six.

Viennas now come in a few different flavors, barbecue, smoked, jalepeno, cajun, honey mustard and hot n' spicy. Armour is my favorite brand and I just won't eat Prarie Belt, Hormel, Libby's or Maple Leaf ,eh!

While the lable will biodegrade in a couple of years, the company needs to stamp a date and flavor type on the can. How will our progeny a hundred years from now know what was packaged in those small cylinders that I'm sure will catch the eye of some intrepid soul searching for a piece of the past.

Maybe I'll bury a few in the woods with the meat still inside along with a package of those cheese and crackers complete with the red plastic stick!

JUNGLE FEVER? DOCTOR JOHNNY FEVER? BOOGIE FEVER?

The little guy has been down and out this week. It all started Monday after school with a low-grade fever that slowly escalated into a full-blown trip to the ER Wednesday evening. Sharla had an appointment scheduled for Thursday, but the fever took over and drove us toward the hospital early. Carson has some kinda immune system. He rarely gets sick, usually fighting off any cold or case of sniffles. However, when his fever spikes he becomes lethargic, clingy and lifeless. He was all three as we took our seats in the KDMC waiting room awaiting our turn with the doctor. In triage, they gave him a dose of Ibuprofen and 30 minutes later as he was in the cubicle, reclining in the bed watching the Disney Channel on a TV on a swing-arm, he was practically back to normal.
A quick check-up by the Doc, a prescription, and out the door we went. Walking
(Yes…he walked out of the hospital, didn’t want to be carried) to the car he said “thank you for taking me to your hospital and letting me watch TV.” From ‘lifeless’ to ‘Superman’ in less than an hour. He talked to PawPaw the other evening on the phone and told him “it was dark when I left the hospital and my surgery didn’t last very long” Funny how a fever affects the body.

The fever is still hanging on after a trip to the pediatrician on Friday and she is just letting it run its course. He is on the mend.

When our fevers rise we often feel out of sorts with our surroundings, not in touch with reality and our judgment is often blurred. When the enemy turns up the heat we feel the ill effects. However, we can counter the attack with prayer and keep the heat down.
The Great Physician offers us a cure for our ills, pain and sorrows, an unlimited supply of grace, and it’s free! Try getting that kind of service at your medical facility of choice.

Pray, Keep the fever at bay!

TAKING UP SERPENTS IN KENTUCKY

Mark 16: 18 “They shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.”
Here in eastern Kentucky and scattered throughout Appalachia, the practice of the literal interpretation of Mark 16: 17-18 is clandestinely performed in small congregations of “Jesus only with signs following” churches.
I’ve never personally witnessed the practice, and don’t have plans to in the future. Not that I have an aversion or fear of snakes, just that I prefer to worship in my own way.

There have been many documentaries, news specials, articles and songs associated with the churches that adhere to this ritual as a small part of their worship experience.
I admit I have had a fascination with it as well. You can’t help but be intrigued as you see those images in living color splashed across the television. The church service seems as normal as any holiness service on any given Sunday. The music, preaching, and testimony are the norm, but then the flames from a bottle of kerosene are passed around, and sips are taken from a jar of strychnine and then the flat boxes are opened and the serpents are draped upon the believers and passed freely around the altar, all amidst the rhythmic drone of guitars and tambourines.
I first read Salvation on Sand Mountain: Snake Handling and Redemption in Southern Appalachia by Dennis Covington over 10 years ago. It is a captivating work that takes the author; (a Southern Baptist deacon) on a journey into his past, discovering that two decades earlier his family practiced the faith. His research lead him throughout Appalachia and into the world of the “serpent handling” church.
Another great read is Faith, Serpents, and Fire Images of Kentucky Holiness Believers by Scott Schwartz. Schwartz documents his research with images that depict the practice as it is actually performed in Kentucky.
I remember my grandparents telling of attending a revival near Wheelwright in the 40’s and hastily retreating out the front door as a side door was opened and a box was carried to the front. They didn’t stick around to see if it was copperheads or rattlesnakes, or both!
While the worship styles vary greatly, even in our churches of the same denomination, we are all expressing our faith and testimony to the same God. Although our music might be loud to some, our prayers different to others, we are here to exalt.

I have to add that several prominent people in the 2 books mentioned are no longer in this world. Victims of the deadly poisons and serpents that they held dear to their faith. These believers never feared the bite of the serpent. A quote from a believer in Sand Mountain.
“Let me tell you, the bite of the serpent is nothing compared to the bite of your fellow man.”
That is so true. I guess in a way we have all been bitten at some time or another in our Christian life. Hopefully as the ‘swelling’ goes down, our forgiveness will go forth and show the true love of Christ.

p.s. no child was harmed in the taking of the photograph and it WAS NOT taken at OABC.

Plastic snake compliments of the Kentucky Highlands Museum 2007.

WEDDING INVITATION

There is gonna be a wedding and everyone is invited. All we know is that it will be sometime in the summer of 2010 in the morning not too long after sunrise.

Sharla and I are planning on renewing our vows for our 20th year of wedded bliss in a little over 2 more years. Our 18th anniversary is coming up on April 7. We were married by Harold Cathey at Unity Baptist, Ashland, Kentucky 1990.
We have been planning this for a couple of years and with God's will, hopefully it will come to fruition.
I have had the spot picked out for some time and Sharla loves it! It sits on a hill overlooking the town with one fantastic vista.Carson say's he wants to carry the rings. Sharla already has an idea of the rings and the place she wants to buy them, so all I have to do is show up and try to find a baptist minister. ( we don't necessarly want a high Maya priest offering up burnt maize, copal incense, red coral beans and reciting from the Popol Vuh.)
We have the place to hold the reception, even if it will only be the three of us, but all are welcome. Come hungry as there will be blue corn tortillas and pepian`for everyone.

Here is a picture of the wedding site........................


..

Just happens to be in Antigua Guatemala, and yes that is a volcano in the distance. Reception will be at the Hotel Casa Santo Domingo.

We'll let you know a more specific date later so you can book airfare and a room...lol
Hope to see ya there.

THE ROCKS CRY OUT AND TUMBLE DOWN

In geological terms a 'slump block' is the term used to describe a large boulder or piece of rock that breaks off from a larger piece and descends a slope by the force of gravity. My backyard and surrounding woodland is practically littered by many of these odd creatures. Hence the name of my road..Rockwood.

The rocks in my neck of the woods are sandstone, with the occassional band or fragments of limonite. The weathering of the limonite make for some beautiful and interesting designs. The pock-marked walls teem with ripples that resemble the beach with a ebbing tide.



My favorite place in my woods, lies about 200 yards behind my house, just past the giant boulder that is half the size of our dwelling. A rock shelter, carved by a now tiny seeping spring that runs silently down the western face and disappears into the gully eventually spilling into Hurricane Creek and a hundred feet later empties into Keys Creek and a mile further mixes with the Ohio River

When Sharla and I first moved here 17 years ago, I found the rock shelter. It is 20 feet deep at the greatest and about 80 feet wide. Nice and dry. There was a fire ring built by kids some years ago, and the rocks remained stacked perfectly and the remnants of charred wood filled the bottom.



While this place struck me as 'my kinda place', I noticed something ominous. Right in the middle of the face, jutting out over the fire ring, the rock had a crack about 3 inches wide about 3 feet up and about 20 feet across.. It looked as if it could come crashing down at any time. I guess I pressed my luck everytime I walked beneath it, but I had no idea how long it had been there. Had it been a week?, a year, a hundred years?

Fast forward 17 years.....

It all came tumbling down this winter. I never heard the thump, but i'm sure it made a great one. The whole piece came down in one great block, burying the fire ring and leaving no trace of the tell-tale soot coating the now bottom. The force of gravity that may have been building for 'who knows how long" only took a split-second to transform the image that I had for 17 years.

Rewind 17 years....

17 years ago I noticed the crack in the rock and felt the weight of that rock squarely on my shoulders. I was like that rock spirtually; broken and ready to fall. It was just a few short months later that my life was transformed as I gave it all to Christ. While that rock may have fallen and the landscape will never be the same, I too will never be the same as Christ changed me in that split-second that I believed in Him and confessed Him as Lord.
Look around, 'for old things will become new'.

NIGHTS ON THE GROUND

I love to camp.

By camping, I mean real camping, not ‘camping in a can’, sleeping in an aluminum box surrounded with the comforts of home and smothered by the hundreds of others ‘roughing it’ just a few scant steps in every direction.
My idea of camping is in a tent or sleeping on the ground under the stars.
My first memory of camping is one of spending a spring weekend on the shores of Lake Cumberland’s Lilly Creek with Dad, PopPop, Uncle Herman and Teddy.
They camped there many years in tents, cooking on open fires and eating their meals while perched atop stumps and red Coleman coolers. I can still hear the looping trill of the whippoorwill and the hooting of the barred owl as if I was still curled up in my sleeping bag in the big musty canvas tent.
Years ago I was a backpacker. I traveled many miles and spent countless nights in my old Eureka tent and cooked many a one-pot gourmet meal on my Svea brass stove.
Some of my most memorable trips were a few that I soloed. My excursions all alone to Dolly Sods, Cranberry Glades and the Red River Gorge allowed me to experience nature without any interruptions from the outside. I could sit for hours and just observe the clouds, rushing streams, squirrels, rocks, wildflowers and the subtle beauty of a laurel thicket.
I can still taste the tartness of the rusty apples I gathered from an ancient homestead on a West Virginia mountain side and feel the frost on the bandana over my mouth and nose as I slumber beneath a Swift Camp Creek rock shelter in mid January when the mercury dipped to 14 degrees.
I loved to be out there, on the ground! I can only recall one time, where I sought refuge from the comfort of my tent. I was at 10, 000 feet in the Bridger Wilderness of the Wyoming Rockies peacefully asleep in base camp on Gypsum Creek. I was camping with my relatives that were hunting elk and anything “what mashes the earth”. I awoke, remembering that I was sleeping about 15’ from the ‘meat pole’ which was adorned with elk and antelope dripping blood onto the dusty ground. One thought shot through my mind…Grizzly!!!

It was then that I gathered up my belongings and crept into the confines of an old Airstream and locked the door.

Sharla and I did the ‘pop-up’ thing years ago, and enjoyed many nights away from home. We often spent nights in empty campgrounds as we traveled off the beaten path and it felt good to get away and enjoy the silence.

My gear still hangs in the utility room. Twenty plus years of hibernation, but it is all readily accessible and able to be called to active duty at a moments notice.
Hopefully it is ready to be called up soon as I have a camping companion now in Carson.
I got to relive that old passion last Friday night as he held me to an earlier promise to ‘camp’ with him. We got out the sleeping bags and mats, stretched a blanket across the back of the wingback chair and secured the other end to an antique travel trunk and stretched out beneath the ‘tent’. We camped in the living room floor with our heads beneath the picture window. We peered at stars through the naked branches of the big poplar just across the driveway and watched the room glow bright as the headlights of the few passing cars snaked around the curve across the creek.
He drifted off to sleep and awoke about 5am with a “Daddy?’ Thank you for taking me camping.
I know…5am. Then he went back to sleep.
He told everyone last weekend that he went camping and slept till the sun came up!
I thoroughly enjoyed that night as much as any night ever spent outside, even if my 45 year old bones creaked and my neck was stiff for 2 days.
I’m looking forward to our first trip this year as a family, curled up in our sleeping bags in the big tent. It can’t come soon enough.

ME? ENVY A PIG?

Envious of a pig? How much lower can you get?
There are times that we live on the mountaintop and there are times we live in the valley.
That perpetual rollercoaster of life that slowly ascends with the jerky motion only to slide into a free-fall that leaves us breathless and wanting the ride to stop.
Those mountaintop experiences are when we feel the euphoria of life and often consider ourselves bulletproof.
The journey through the valleys, often leave us empty, drained and exposed.
Just as the prodigal son took his inheritance and lived the life of luxury upon his mountaintop. He soon found himself destitute, broken, and alone in a valley.
To survive, he worked feeding pigs and ‘he longed to eat his fill from the carob pods the pigs were eating, but no one would give him any.’
He envied the pigs!
We can easily slip into that same type of situation spiritually. The sin of overindulgence that often leaves us empty. We can become’ spiritually bankrupt’, hitting rock bottom, feeling that the whole world is against us.
When we finally realize where we are we need to immediately stop and assess the situation. Ask God for direction and He most likely will show you that the only way out is to look up, keep your eyes turned toward Him and don’t look down.
I have definitely been down in some deep, dark valleys in my life, and I have stood atop some mountains where the light shines brightly. I long to live on that flat plain of abundance, where the sun never sets and the darkness hides its face.
I am committed to looking up! I want to live for Christ and show His love.
I pray that I will never covet the trappings of a pig.

WOODSTOCK 2008 2 whole days of sex, money and pride.

Woodstock 2008
WOW! What can I say?
20 + hours of driving time, various pit stops, food and fellowship and they let me ride up front so I wouldn’t get car-sick.( my scopalomine patch didn’t hurt either).
Nine of us guys from Oakland Avenue Baptist Church headed south Friday morning for the Men’s Conference at First Baptist Woodstock just north of Atlanta. Upon arrival, we were eating a great steak dinner within 5 minutes! This church has their stuff together. The organization is unbelievable. 8500 men assembled to be challenged and ministered to. 4 hours Friday night and 4 more on Saturday morning. 3 sessions with the pastor Johnny Hunt and 20+ breakout sessions that left you wanting more and hard pressed to choose which to attend. Luckily all the sessions are recorded so you can study them later at home.
The worship services were extremely moving. Tears flowed, voices lifted up the praise in song and hearts were broken. The ride back to Catlettsburg was filled with thoughts and questions about the event along with a little vicarious entertainment; each guy taking his turn for a friendly joust.
Wish I could have stayed for Sunday services as Mike Huckabee was delivering a message.
We left with many ideas for growing our Men’s Ministry at OABC and can hardly wait to get into the action.
Thanks to Jon Wellman for arranging the trip. I have been blessed.
January 30-31, 2009 Super Bowl weekend….I’ll be there.