RUST ON MY SOUL (36th IN SERIES)

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RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)

 

INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)

In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.

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Evening

Beware! How often have I lit my fires of ego all burning bright with heat and flame?

Beware! Thomas Jordan Kettering has spoken the fires proclaimed.

Beware! I will destroy you and myself, too, in these flames of ego, if need be.

Beware! The shadow from the flame of the flame may be the shadow of a fool, but I am set to rule.

Oh God! I have destroyed friendships and family ties, made strangers uneasy. For what?

That my ego might be fed. That its insatiable appetite might not go wanting. I can name all the reasons; they’re all stacked u and packed away in that closet in my mind.’

I wanted to be president of the senior class, but I lost.

I wanted to go to Yale, but they wouldn’t have me.

I have wanted to be loved, but then one day a man who had nothing to lose said, “You’re a good fish, Tom.” That was twenty years ago and I’ve never forgotten it. Because in many ways he was right. I did hold back, aloof from the crowd. I still do.

“You can be charming when you want to.” That was what my mother used to say. But charming and caring are not the same.

“You’re a warm human being, Tom.” No one has ever said that about me.

I have not let my ego lie at ease. It is friend and foe, but in this rugged war of staying alive, of surviving with job and pay, of wining while someone else goes down the drain, ego does its job.

We’re down to two in our office.

 

The economy stands on shifting sands. Economic malnutrition does that. But I exude confidence. I work with controlled arrogance. I’ve sped up my output and lengthened my day. I’m safe. I have nothing to fear but fear itself. Thank you, Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

 

Evening

 

I am not always deep in depression but I all too frequently suffer from the downs. Change might be exciting, but in short order that too would spring a leak and lay limp. I seek no new marriage, no new job, no new adventures.

 

I find it more than enough to struggle on with my daily task of survival.

 

When my inner self cries out for help, who si listening? Is there a switchboard at the doorway to my soul? Can I call out and then expect an answer?

 

To ask for God healing I first must admit I’m sick. To receive God’s healing I must admit He can heal.

 

God, if you are, please listen now. I do admit there is something wrong with me that I alone cannot cure. I don’t like earthly doctors poking around and I’m even less enthused with the thought of you peering and prying.

 

But if your heavenly medicine chest has a remedy, please let me have some.

 

Is that sacrilegious? Perhaps, but since you already know the inner workings of my mind. I deserve no reward for honesty.

 

Morning

 

One of these days I’m going to lose weight, read the Bible and forgive my enemies. One of these days.

 

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(TO BE CONTINUED)
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A quote from the next posted blog entitled GOD’S FRUIT STAND

 

“A woman was wandering through a marketplace when she came upon a sign that stopped her in her tracks. It read God’s Fruit Stand. Without hesitation she rushed over and began to exclaim, “I would like a perfect banana, a perfect cantaloupe, a perfect strawberry and a perfect peach.” It was then she recognized who was behind the counter, God. And looking at her with a heavenly smile, He simply replied, “I’m sorry but I only sell seeds.”

 

That is the hope given to us on the first Christmas, when…”

 

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The book RUST ON MY SOUL is available on amazon.com

 

To view an abundance of unusual stories and comments by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS

 

Click on the following URL

 

http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/
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DO YOU DRAW YOUR OWN CONFUSIONS?

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If you sometimes find yourself feeling far away from God, guess who moved.

One day, a very discouraged teacher, sat down and wrote the following:

“TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
I have taught high school for ten years. During that time I have given assignments to, among others, a murderer, an evangelist, a pugilist and a thief.
The murderer was a quiet, small boy who sat on the front row and regarded me with pale blue eyes. The evangelist, easily the most popular boy in school, had the lead in the Junior Play. The pugilist would often lounge by the window and at intervals let loose a raucous laugh that startled even the geraniums. The thief was a gay-hearted Lothario with a song on his lips.

Now the murderer awaits death in the state penitentiary. The evangelist has lain a year in the village graveyard. The pugilist lost an eye in a brawl in Hong Kong, and the thief, by standing on tiptoe, can see the windows of my classroom from the county jail.
All of these pupils once looked at me gravely across their worn brown desks. I had the chance to teach them. I had every chance in the world.”

Nor should there be any doubt that she tried, and yes, sometimes failed. That terrible word – failure. Tried so hard but was unable to impart the wisdom of her knowledge, education and years to some students who too often would not listen.


It happens all the time, this wasting of the wisdom of the ages falling on deaf ears. The drawing of our own confusions.

We multiply our possessions while reducing our values.

Talk too much and pray too little.

Travel around the world and ignore our next door neighbor.
Conquer outer space but not the inner space of our soul.

Do bigger and bigger things, but not often enough better things.
Grow physically taller, yet shorter in character.


It isn’t that good advice is not available from the master teacher. While we face a problem shouting it is impossible He reminds, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.”


And what does our Lord want us to do? He wants us to let the Bible speak to us. When we say, “It’s impossible,” read in Luke (18:27) where Jesus says, What is impossible with men is possible with God.


A case in point; one day a small factory had to shut down.


A piece of machinery had quit and wouldn’t start again, no matter what anyone did. Finally, they called in an expert. The mechanic stood in front of the machine for a moment, then walked over and gave it a light tap with his hammer. Immediately it started up and continued running as if nothing had ever been wrong.


However, when he submitted his bill for $100.00 the plant manager hit the roof and demanded an itemized bill. When submitted it read as follows: Tapping the machine - $1.00. Knowing where to tap the machine - $99.00.


And that’s how it is with your Lord and mine.


He is the resident expert on how to keep our souls running on all cylinders, and running well.


Which is why He wants us to hire Him to manage our lives on a regular basis.


And once we do, He then asks for the right to make some major changes in our lives. And that’s where the rub comes in.

Because we human beings don’t like change we complain that the price is too high and put forth our own agenda. We ask for trouble – and get it.

Which is why our progress report, called life, often comes up so lacking. It is, after all, a recording of our attitudes and actions, an on-going reflection of whether we have a reverence for God in life or create a Godless life.


It is all, really, very much like a game of cards. And whether we win or lose often depends not so much on the cards we are dealt, but how we play the game.


In Mexico City, in 1968, out of cold darkness that had descended, John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzania staggered into the Olympic Stadium, his leg bloody and bandaged. The winner of the Olympic marathon had been declared well over an hour earlier. But the lone runner pressed on. As he finally crossed the finish line, the now small crowd roared. When asked by a reporter why he hadn’t quit, he replied, “My country did not send me to Mexico City to start the race. They sent me to finish it.”


And that is what our God has sent us to do.


In the race of life to sometimes stumble, even fall, but never allow ourselves to be confused when making the proper choices for living.

Charles Darwin in his book, Life and Letters, describes years of self inflicted pain. In his younger days he loved music, art and literature and took such great delight in their pursuit. He then writes of how his one-sided concentration on scientific calculations caused him to reach a point where he could not endure one line of poetry. Where even Shakespeare became nauseatingly dull.

It happens. The giving up of the foods for the soul. The dulling of response to things beautiful for beauty’s sake. The killing off of the child’s hungering for God, as becoming grownup such childish things are put aside.

Or to put it more plainly, a rewriting of Paul’s thoughts: When I was a child, I thought as a child, I sought God with a child’s delight. My prayers were simple, but sincere. God was real and I was glad. But when I became a man, I put away childish things. Childish beliefs. I became a man and was self sufficient unto myself. I had all the answers. And what answers I didn’t have, I made up.

It doesn’t have to be this way. The Bible tells us how to keep it from happening.
PRAYER – persistent, sincere. “Ask and it shall be given unto you, seek and ye shall find.”
WORSHP – letting go and letting God. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and soul, and strength, and mind.”

GOOD WORKS – decent deeds. “Show me thy works, and I will show you your faith.”
How does one stop drawing one’s own confusions? By stop believing everything the newspapers say and stop questioning what the Bible says.

From the cradle to the grave is a long journey. Its beginning is a miracle. Its end a mystery. It is also an education. It is also a challenge. Someone has said that, “Life is a grindstone. It either grinds a man down or polishes him up. It depends on the stuff he is made of.” And it should be added, seeks to be made of.

Part of a poem from the Sanskrit reads, “….today, well lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope.”

Christianity is a lifestyle. It has in it the thrill of victory and the joy of over-coming defeats. It is a mindset that sets the thermostat of the soul to God control. It shouts with an overwhelming faith that God can improve life’s climate.


With a little imagination we can picture Galilee at the close of a day and see Jesus surrounded by the sick, the blind, the maimed and the weary. We can see and feel His heavenly wisdom. We can revel in His insights that guilt can weigh a thousand pounds without forgiveness. That grief can stain the brightest day with bitterness. That temptation sucks the goodness out of a man until he can sin without remorse.


Some might call it an oversimplification but “ viva la simplification.” What? The old French saint sitting quietly at the end of the day and in answer to a question “What are you doing?” replying, “I am just looking to the Lord and feel Him looking back at me.”


It’s called calling in the Master Mechanic who knows what makes us tick and can improve the ticking.


Dial heaven. Cry out with David, Oh Lord, Thou understandest my thoughts afar off.

And the scripture that reads, They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not be faint.


And today’s scripture, Restore to me the joy of thy salvation and uphold me with a willing spirit.

Let me close by telling you of a little girl, Samantha, whose parents were atheists and never told her about the Lord. One night they had a terrible fight. Finally her father pulled out a gun and shot the little girl’s mother, then killed himself. She saw it all.


Afterwards, Samantha was sent to a foster home. Her foster mother was a Christian and took her to church. On that first day in Sunday school it was explained to the teacher that the new little girl had never heard of Jesus and would she please have patience with Samantha. Later, as the teacher was telling a story she held up a picture of Jesus and asked, “Does anyone know who this is?”


The little girl raised her hand and said, “I do. That’s the man who was holding me the night my mommy and daddy died.”
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A new Series on PRAYER has begun.

Each week there is a continuation of the Serialization of his Internationally distributed novel RUST ON MY SOUL.

To view an abundance of unusual stories and comments by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS


Click on the following URL

http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/

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10 Easy Ways To Kill Your Church

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1. Never invite anyone to church. If this suggestion seems too severe, just procrastinate. Pursue promises to promote the cause of Christ, not with promptness, but with
postponement.

Excuses for such inaction come easy, such as these: "I was attacked by a fit of shyness." "I didn't want to be considered a fanatic." "My boss doesn't like Christians, so what could I do?"


2. If some new people come to church anyway, ignore them.You can sit by them, but don't speak to them. Sing by them, but don't offer to share your hymnbook.

When the church service is over,
immediately turn your back on them and begin to talk with another church member.
If you suffer an attack of conscience, you can usually overcome this by assuring
yourself that someone else will be visitor-friendly.

If a visitor appears to want to speak to the pastor as he or she leaves the church, engage the pastor in an extended conversation. Most visitors will soon grow weary and will leave by another door.


3. If you are gregarious by nature and find it impossible not to greet a
visitor, be sure not to speak kindly about the church or anyone in it.
Tell the visitor about any troubles there are in the choir or among the
officers.

Mention that the women's or men's group is a clique (unless of
course you are a member of the group) and that you wouldn't go if they
paid you.

4. During the week drink like it is going out of style, curse like an
R-rated movie, and spread lies as if you invented gossip.
Nothing drives people away from the church and Christ like Christians who
don't act like Christians.

Work hard at making at least one person every
day comment, "If he (she) is a Christian, I'm not interested."


5. Avoid an active prayer life as if it were the plague.
Prayer evokes the presence of the Holy Spirit and can cause evangelistic zeal.

An occasional prayer in a time of need is acceptable, but anything
beyond this can cause things to get out of control.

6. Always refuse any opportunity for service to your church--or say "Yes" even though you know you will never follow through.
These kinds of actions can keep the work of any church body at a high
level of inefficiency.

If they are practiced with persistence and consistency, a church may even have to close its doors.
Or if this does not bring about a complete collapse, it will cause at the least a lot of
limping.

And the best thing about this is that a few people are left trying to do everything, which produces jealousy as many begin to complain that "a few people are running the church." It is a wonderful two-edged sword.

7. Memorize certain classic clichés that serve as excuses, and repeat
them every time there is even the smallest opportunity: "God doesn't expect you to be in church every time the door opens."
"You can't love everyone; God certainly understands that." "It's the preacher's job to go out and get new members. That's what we pay him for." (There are others, but these are good starters.)


8. Avoid being open-minded.

Narrow-mindedness has a very high success rate at driving people away
from the church. If someone does not agree with you 100 percent, strike him or her off your list. Decide that certain men and women are morons or imbeciles.

Have no patience with anyone who is struggling toward faith and asks questions. Believe that they are only trying to be difficult.

9. When the offering plate is passed, be sure you are one of those responsible for a poorly paid preacher, a building in need of repair, a lack of necessary supplies, etc.
It is amazing how this can set in motion a growing pessimism that will spread throughout the entire congregation. All it took was your not carrying your share of the load.


10. Definitely complain about the minister's faults and don’t mention any of his or her virtues.

This is extremely important, and an occasional complaint will not do. It
really isn't difficult.

All the pastor's sermons will not be to your discriminating taste.

(If you find yourself feeling appreciative of his or her efforts, a little lukewarmness can soon dampen any enthusiasm.) And
be patient.

Soon your preacher will say or do the wrong thing (preachers
are, after all, human). He or she will lose his/her temper with Mr. Jones or fail to call on Mrs. Brown.

What is good about this is that it will divide the congregation into "pros" and "cons."


These rules for helping a church and any evangelistic program it may have, to self-destruct are gleanings from the ages. They have been tried and found to work by countless thousands, perhaps even millions. The number of folks who have been driven from the church and the throne of grace by
such actions are endless.

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A new Series on PRAYER has begun.

To view an abundance of unusual stories and comments by Neil

Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS

Click on the following URL http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/


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RUST ON MY SOUL (35th IN SERIES)

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**********************************
RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)

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INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.

Morning
I tried to have a conversation with my body yesterday but found its hearing badly impaired. Today it’s speaking to me, stridently.


I’m aware of a shouting match between bone and sinew, a terrible confrontation that spells out stiffness and pain. I will not self destruct. I shall most certainly survive, but the years of my youth, no more than the turn of a few calendar pages, are now a decade and more behind.


Even a year ago my muscle memory, though failing, responded reasonably well. It stammered only slightly in its speaking. I was a shade of a second behind in reaction time. But yesterday, that one year later, at the annual office picnic and softball game, I would have done better to strike out.

Those ninety-degree angles at each base and my collision at home plate with the catcher after Tim’s bunt did more than rearrange my inner anatomy. They made a collection agency of my nerve endings and today I’m paying the bill.

Why must we grow old? Why must we move toward our latter days a tattered remnant of our former selves? There is a senility of the body that sets in before that of the mind.

The mental message to muscle is no less strong. Encoded it streaks in milliseconds as it always did. It’s just that there is a slowness in response. A rewriting of the command. And what once would have been a home run is now just a long fly out. What once would have been a close but safe play at first is no longer even close.

I was never a great athlete but I knew the joy of the wind in my face. Yesterday I spent all day long chasing my wind, but it never got closer than a gasp away.

Golfing with a golf card once every month or so has done little or nothing to help my sag and drag. My chest hurts, but then since I hurt all over I really can’t separate the pain.

Evening

I have chased a dream but what is the dream I have been chasing and is it worthy of the effort. It always comes down to this…now doesn’t it.
I think I’ll chase an answer harder and accompany the chase with a prayer and wonder why I wandered so far from this necessity of the soul.

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A new Series on PRAYER has begun.
To view an abundance of unusual stories and comments by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS
Click on the following URL

http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/

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PRAYER, THE WHY OF IT ALL (3rd in Series)

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A man tried to weigh a prayer, but never did find out. 

 

Never did come up with an exact figure, but it changed his attitude toward prayer. 

 

This happened a long time ago, not long after the First World War had ended. 

Late on an afternoon a woman, who looked too tired to be able to even put one foot in front of the other, entered a small grocery store and haltingly moved to the counter. Unmelted snow clung to her clothes and a certain sadness clung there too.

 

Max, the grocer, asked how he could help her. “May I have enough food to make a Christmas dinner for my children? My husband was killed in the war and I have no money…I have nothing to offer but a little prayer.”

The grocer scowled but grumpily replied, “Write it on a piece of paper” and turned to another customer. To his surprise she reached over the counter and handed him a piece of paper, “I did that during the night while I was watching over my sick baby.”

 

As he took the prayer from her he wondered, “What am I supposed to do now?” 

 

An idea suddenly came to him. He placed the paper, without even reading it on an old fashioned scale and then picked up a loaf of bread nearby and said aloud, “We shall see how much this prayer is worth….how much it weighs.” 

 

To his amazement the scale did not move. He kept on adding more food, anything he could lay his hands on, but nothing
happened.

 

By now a small crowd was gathering. He tried to be gruff but he was making a bad job of it. Looking at the now considerable pile of groceries he said ,”Well, that’s all the scale will hold. Here’s a bag. You’ll have to put it in yourself, I’m busy.” Red faced and totally frustrated he turned to wait on the next customer.

 

Later, when she and the other customers were gone he examined the scale more closely to find the solution. For many years, it had been a good pair of scales; served him well and always worked.

 

Why it had chosen this particular moment to break down he never could quite figure.

He never saw the woman again. And come to think of it, he had never seen her before either, yet for the rest of his life the incident changed who he was.

 

And, oh yes, what was the prayer written on that piece of paper? That piece of paper that he pulled out and read many times down through the years?

“Please, Lord, give us this day our daily bread.”

 

Fools don’t pray; on pieces of paper, or out loud, or to themselves. They affirm neither the reality of God nor the possibility of communication.

They ignore God, or take his name in vain without regret and are more embarrassed by prayer than helped by it.

They scoff at prayers answered. Their creed is the cynics creed.

How did the scripture read? “You know when I
sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.”

Psalm 139:2

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The new Series on PRAYER has begun.

 

To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS

 

Click on the following URL

 

http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/

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