Rabid Fun

John Cowart's Daily Journal: A befuddled ordinary Christian looks for spiritual realities in day to day living.


Friday, May 11, 2007

Bridge Construction

Bridge construction ties up traffic all over Jacksonville this week, but not at my house.

Lanes of the Matthews Bridge are closed while workers repair the steel grate in the center span; The Dame’s Point Bridge is being painted, closing lanes. Massive traffic jams result from these two projects. But traffic over the bridge at my house will flow smoothly after today.

Yes, while I’ve been taking a week off between books, I’ve been refurbishing the bridge over Sheba’s hole on the jungle path.

Sheba was our black lab who lived with us for 17 years.

She dug a huge hole to lie in way back in a far corner of the garden and to keep from disturbing her refuge, I built a rustic arched bridge over the hole.

Sheba been dead about four years now.

The wood timbers of the arch bridge decayed so much that last year I had to rope off Sheba’s bridge and put up a MEN WORKING sign to steer people off the bridge onto a side path.

To fill in Sheba’s hole would betray her memory. So this week, I tore down the old rotten arched bridge and replaced it with a simple raised wooden boardwalk.

The new construction is not as elegant (in my eyes) as the old bridge, but it opens that section of the path again.

I’m not the only family member to be rebuilding things. Donald The Geek is rendering stuff to make comic books featuring scantily clad anorexics and drooling space aliens. He has also restored the E-Mail Devotional portion of his website so that the free mini-messages by Charles Haddon Spurgeon are available again.

Spurgeon (1834-1892) was widely called the Prince Of Preachers by Christians of all sorts. His works are still widely read and his books outsell anything I’ve ever written.

Each morning when I read a snippet of his devotional, I find that he often thinks and says things I wish I’d thought and was able to say.

Here’s this morning’s sample:

"The only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."
— John 1:14

Christ is divine to me, if He be human to all the world beside.

He has done that for me which none but a God could do.

He has subdued my stubborn will, melted a heart of adamant, opened gates of brass, and snapped bars of iron. He hath turned for me my mourning into laughter, and my desolation into joy; He hath led my captivity captive, and made my heart rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Let others think as they will of Him, to me He must be the only begotten of the Father: blessed be His name.

And He is _full of grace_. Ah! Had He not been, I should never have been saved. He drew me when I struggled to escape from His grace; and when at last I came all trembling like a condemned culprit to His mercy-seat He said, 'Thy sins which are many are all forgiven thee: be of good cheer.'

And He is _full of truth_. True have His promises been, not one has failed. I bear witness that never servant had such a master as I have; never brother such a kinsman as He has been to me; never spouse such a husband as Christ has been to my soul; never sinner a better Savior; never mourner a better comforter than Christ hath been to my spirit. I want none beside Him.

In life He is my life, and in death He shall be the death of death; in poverty Christ is my riches; in sickness He makes my bed; in darkness He is my star, and in brightness He is my sun…

Jesus is to me all grace and no wrath.

All truth and no falsehood.

And of truth and grace He is _full_, infinitely full.

And all that without a single space alien eating the Barbie baby doll.

If you’re interested in receiving Spurgeon’s free daily devotions (with no charge, no tracking cookies, no ads, no nothing) Check out Donald’s site at http://www.rdex.net/devotions/ to subscribe.

In other news:

I fielded three crisis calls during the night while I was trying to watch a horror movie I’d heard about but never seen before.

One call was about money.

The other two, more thorny.

Apparently, my daughter Jennifer encountered Pat, her ex, for the first time since they broke up in hurt, accusations, and turmoil.

A chance encounter?

Result of stalking?

Who knows?

But both called me to tell their side of it.

In my duel rolls as father and friend, I’ve heard different accounts of their real-life horror/drama (to me) story again and again for years.

Jennifer responded to the encounter exactly as her counselors had advised in such a case; Pat assured me that no stalking was involved, just a chance meeting outside Jennifer’s apartment.

As each justified their own actions, I was trying to watch a tape of The Blair Witch Project, but to listen to the drama of each phone call, I turned the sound off and tried to followed the storyline of the movie by closed captioning.

Who says I have no sympathy and a father and a friend?

Crude, rustic bridges of scrap wood, I can build; building bridges between hurt people in pain, that’s a job only Christ can do.

He alone is Prince of Peace.

Oh, that movie really looses something when there’s no sound.


Please, visit my website for more www.cowart.info and feel free to look over and buy one of my books www.bluefishbooks.info
posted by John Cowart @ 6:41 AM

4 Comments:

At 7:36 AM, Blogger Seeker said...

I like the way you put it, that a bridge opens up the path. Philosophical.

 
At 6:40 PM, Blogger Pat said...

Just turning down the movie to listen was a form of bridge building.
That movie scared the snot out of me - but then I have no sense.

 
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