All great nations fall

I like most of you are scared about where our country is going and how fast it’s going there. I try my best to remain politically neutral when it comes to politics. I don’t believe that the United States is the church and therefore I don’t know if we can apply Church characteristics and attributes to it. Jesus is the head of the church and not this nation. I, like many Christians, am struggling with amount force I should assert in this nation. As all nations go it is guaranteed that they will go out someday. I listen to the comments of our older, wiser generation about the moral level of their days and how far it has come. When I look forward to our coming struggle with issues like homosexual marriage, allowing non-wed couples to adopt, socioeconomic class struggles (thank you CNN), abortion, embryonic stem-cell research… etc. I’m not going to rail against any particular party, person, or group. I must remember that God will give peace to his people and that one day, no matter how bad it gets, that Jesus will come back for me. What physical action should I take to save a sinking ship I know will never recover? How much sand should I bail out of a quicksand pit to save a dying animal in the middle? I agree with what Pippen said while standing on the balcony with Gandalf in Gondor looking out to see the subtle yet violent glows of Mount Mordor climbing closer. I can't stand war but standing on the verge of one you couldn’t escape is worse. May we all find peace and comfort in this coming storm, also, I pray we find the courage to fight whatever spiritual and physical battle we must for the Kingdom of our lord and king. I'm not a defeatist or a pessimist, I’m just scared for us and where we are going. You can call me a realest. If you are not all ready praying for God’s will to be done here then please do so. God Bless you and may God’s kingdom increase.

Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 6:"truth sucks"

“I’m not your father and your mother is not… well… not your mother,” lightly remarked Richard Lighten to his now stone faced son. As Thomas’ world slowly crumbled before his very dark red eyes, he couldn’t back a burst of laughter. Like he was the ring leader of his own circus and he was also the main attraction.
Almost conversationally Richard continued, “For the last 18 years I have thought about how to say that simple phrase… I’m sorry for whatever its worth.” Richard had thinking about how to word it but always came to the same conclusion. Keep it simple. Richard was hoping that Thomas would see he willingness to be straight forward and admire him for it. This was not what Thomas was thinking. Thomas’ only reply was the vivid color his eyes were using to communicate silent frustration and confusion.

Alisha, doing all should could to hold back the flood of tears could hold back no longer and let out a silent sob. Her hands crawled along the table surface looking for the hands of her son; she hoped he still was her son. Richard remained stone still, as if he was under inspection and his life depended on him not moving. Only the sounds of breath exhaling from nervous lungs could be heard.

“Mummy?” murmured a sleepy little girl in her mother’s warm arm. Without finding its quarry, her arm retracted from the table and wrapped around the child.

What do you say to that? Reply Thomas to himself. Scrambling for words to break the awkward silence Thomas was only able to say “Ok, what happened, why, where, when… what the...”

Taking her emotions back under her control she said, “We all need to sleep on this for right now. Tomorrow, when we have all thought about this we will answer all of your questions.” Without looking at her husband or uttering a sound in his direction, she got up to put her baby to bed.

All the while Thomas was left at the table wondering to himself; if these two were not his parents then who is?

Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 5:"the package"

The thunder from the storm raging outside sounded like monsters trying to break into the house through the roof. Rain steadily beat against the windows threatening to break them in if they continued their resistance. The vibration from the central heater was felt through the floor as Thomas gentle turned the package over in his nervous hands.

Who could this possibly come from? Asked Thomas who was slowly turning into an anxious 12 year boy Christmas morning about to open his presents. His eyes turned a bright shade of green, like the color you would see on a plant in spring about to release its flower for the entire world to admire. As another shot of lightening temporarily dimmed the light of his average room he began to fumble delicately with the tape that barred his entrance into its mysterious chambers within.

As most boys his age, he began to pump his legs anxiously like a runner warming up before a race. “Why I am I so excited to see what’s in this box? “ Thomas remarked verbally. Reluctantly tuning down, he dropped the box on the ground and looked at it like it was a device trying to control his mind. As the thunder buffeted the house the groan of the bed was inaudible as he stood up and turned for the door leaving the package unopened and looking rather disappointed on the ground. Walking down the stairs that lead to the kitchen he could hear the hushed hurried voices of his parents at the kitchen table where his 2 year old sister was playing under the table with his old dump truck which had her Barbie doll elegantly seated on top commanding her loyal subjects (imaginary) with grace and beauty. “What are you guys talking about?” asked Thomas not trying to sound as sharp as it came out.

“We’re talking about the box you received earlier today,” replied his mother. He could see the faint streaks tears recently wiped away from the napkin she held in her hands.

“Yeah, who dropped it off by the way,” with his mother opening the subject Thomas felt free to pursue it. “I mean was it a messenger? Because I wasn’t expecting anything.” As Thomas opened the refrigerator he had to move half of its contents just to grab a Dr. Pepper.

His father replied, “We were hoping you might be able to enlighten us.”

“No, I haven’t opened it yet,” trying his best to cover his bright green eyes to conceal his anxious desire to find out what it is. “Do you want me to bring it down and we could open it together?”

His father, Richard Lighten, was reserved man prone to few words and even fewer facial expressions. He was a retired army Colonel that saw a lot of action in both desert storm and the current conflict. Currently he was trying his hand as an electrician making good money, but doing it mostly to keep himself busy. Richard loved his son and wanted him to know that but found it hard to show him in any way that Thomas would understand.

“Mom are you ok?”

“I’ll be fine hunny, just go up get the package and we’ll talk.”

When Thomas came back down the stairs he could hear very clearly his father.

“Alisha, we must, if we don’t… when will we.”

Sobbing openly by this time, “how…do you think he will react? Hunny put the tuck on the floor please.” Amanda had decided to make her presence finally known by driving the truck straight up her mothers leg.
When he hit the landing he did his best to hide his reaction from overhearing them.

“Are you guys sure everything is ok?” his eyes now turning dark brown showing his inner turmoil.

“It will be ok. Just open the package,” not used to the angry tone his father used; he robotically brought the package to the table and began to open it.

Once the tape was removed, Thomas opened the cardboard lid and peered down at a silvery rectangle with an apple symbol in the middle of the rectangle seeming to have a bite taken from its side. As if a physical weight was lifted off his parents they sighed in unison and leaned back in their chairs like they had just been running and were now taking a rest. It was a computer, actually it was Macbook pro. As if it were made out of egg shell and any jerky motion would destroy it, Thomas gently removed it from the box.

“Is this why you guys were freaking out?” he addressed his parents still having a look of amazement on his face.

“No, we thought it was something completely different love,” said Alisha clearly relieved.

When Thomas lifted the lid and moved to turn it on it turned on all by itself. A strange voice came from the device making it sound like it was possessed. Without Thomas knowing microsystems turned on and routines began to whir to life, a series of hypersonic messages were sent from the computer to the mind of and equally unknowing cowboy 2 miles away.

“Siiuurr, wii neeeded yous now.” The cowboy, thinking he had seen it all, passed out right on Main Street.

Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 4 "Messenger"

“ell nnu teek pleeez?” ask the messenger from the landing craft

The cowboy understood none of this for he was still arousing from the considerable shock he received when Charlie bucked him off.

“Wh..hhhat?” muttered a frightful cowboy.

He could not believe that only 5 minutes ago he was riding east towards Bozeman, MT minding his own business. When the bright lights first appeared silhouetted against the coming storm in the far distant horizon, he thought he was having a stroke. At first, he thought “oh, great a stroke out here in the middle of nowhere.” After the initial scare he accepted his soon to be fate rather quickly. Instead of the expected blackness to consume his tired mind and release him from his flesh, the light continued to get brighter and then turned in his direction.

“What in the seven blazes of hell?” Exclaimed the cowboy to his equally scared horse.

The craft looked like a mix between huge Cadillac from the 60’s and a pincher bug. You know, one of those super long, super opulent cars with the long tail fins on either side of the trunk but at least 20 feet long and 15 feet at its highest point. Instead of the interior cabin, though, there was a bubble like cockpit which could give the pilot the ability to see 360 degrees in all directions if indeed that was where the pilot was, if it had a pilot. In the front protruded to long pincers which the cowboy found to be exceedingly intimidating. If you where to step 100 feet back you would find this scene very comical. It looked like a cowboy was being attacked by a huge ant from some cheesy sci-fi western. As it landed Charlie finally had enough and threw the cowboy 4 feet and then ran as if he was several years younger.
As the dust finally decided to settle, the cowboy attempted to get up but failed horribly. For some reason his legs refused to obey his staunch order to rise and his bladder taking notice of the rebellion released its contents to the dissatisfaction of its owner. He felt like he was in the movie when the earth stood still and the aliens made first contact. However, in real life things moved a lot more quickly because the messenger in the craft had other jobs that evening and he did want to go home before his children went to sleep. A door swung open where there was no door before and a tall man replaced it. He swiftly moved to the man on the ground and then cursed unintelligibly to himself under his breath.

In butchered English he said “Diz pakeag iz tho nnu. Pleeez teek.”
As the shock wore off, his hand took the package as if it thought it now had the right to make decisions on its own.

“wwwhhhaaaattttt?” questioned the now thoroughly confused cowboy. “Are you what I think you are?”

Yet, without a reply the man did a terse about face and quickly walked to his ship. From his position the cowboy could not see the man climb back into his cockpit and radio his station in orbit around the moon that the package was delivered and he was going home. His other jobs would have to wait because his wife would not be happy that it took him that long to deliver that package. They had a new born baby to look after.

As the craft started up its engines, if it had engines, and at first slowly rose from the ground. The higher the craft rose the faster it got and with a deafeningly loud BANG disappeared into the fast approaching storm. As if on cue Charlie poked his head around a small hill he was hiding behind to see if the craft was finally gone. Seeing that the coast was clear Charlie started walking back to see if his master wasn’t vaporized.

“Thanks Charlie,” said the cowboy rather sarcastically. “Never mind, I probably would have done the same.”

Charlie nibbled on his shoulder as sign of apology. With much reluctance his legs finally gave back control to the cowboy and he slowly got up.

“Did you see that Charlie?”

A teen's childish prayer

This last Sunday I was a witness to a miracle. In Sudan Texas I am a mentor/teacher to a handful of kids crazy enough to think I know what I’m talking about concerning spiritual matters. One of these teenagers name is Tanner Testerman, he is 16 and thinks he has everything under control. Like most his age, who being raised in the church have a spiritual education equivalent to 6th grader. They know that Jonah was swallowed by a fish/whale/mammal/dolphin (they know debate still rages about this sensitive topic), and they know that Noah built an ark where a bunch of smiling men, women, children and animal lived in for 40 days and nights. They know that Abraham was old and Sarah was older, and that Jesus was some sort of sheep or lamb on our behalf. They man needs to be saved, but they nothing of what they need saved from and why they needed to be saved in the first place. I have spent the last year trying my best to help them understand the reality of the bible and the life of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ. To tell you the truth I have been getting incredibly frustrated with myself for not “doing enough” for these kids. Two weeks ago Tanner was asked to lead a prayer for the fruit of the vine, his very first prayer by the way. As I stood beside him in front of the communion table I began to get nervous on his behalf as he asked everybody bow their heads to pray. What came out of his mouth did not fit any standard we might have for what a prayer should sound like. He muttered several word repeatedly and mumbled some more only to end his prayer with a quivering unintelligible th..than…thank yyyuooo God. I could not describe to you in words at how proud I was of this young man; furthermore, I could not even imagine the love and honor the LORD must have felt to have this young and confused man finally talk to him. As I said above I have witnessed a miracle this last Sunday, because after some study and encouragement Tanner lead a prayer after the devotional we had Sunday night. What came from his mouth was both beautiful and well said. I have been so focused on what I could do for these kids I have completely forgot what it is that God can do through them. There is no other job like ministering to people, to be able to help and be helped along this road we call life is like no other experience I have ever had. Finally, when Tanner said his amen and raised his head I wasn’t too shocked when the next thing he said was “I think I’m getting pretty good at this.”

Thomas’ Computer: a short story loosely based on real events
Chapter 3 "The Storm"

What makes a storm believe itself so pompous and haughty to deserve the whole of the sky? Can such a creation claim that much space to simple relieves its energy like a little boy that had too much water before he went to bed. I wonder if God will allow me to make that same claim, thought the lone cowboy. The storm, now forming in the eastern sky was beginning to take the shape of any enormous dragon set to consume the world it so jealousy looked upon. The yellow lights of the city gave the elemental dragon the look of a golden encrusted belly similar to Smaug that Bilbo so gallantly fought against. Maybe this was his long lost relative escaping its own realm searching for worlds that could sustain its equally enormous appetite. Of all creation the cowboy felt he was most akin to a storm. Except this whirlwind had blown out long ago; long lost to the world so quickly advancing upon him. Like a storm he had blown in from what seemed like a faraway place only to scramble up everything he touched, set fire to people’s hearts, flood others expectations, and then when all his huffing and puffing and blowing refused to knock down the piggy’s home, he ran away to the wilderness where he has been ever sense. Yet, are we not all susceptible to the same nature. We come on the scene of life believing we have earned the right to be front and center like some comical play set before a grand audience. When we perform our short and inglorious act we are pushed off the stage like trash expended from a grotesque vending machine. Once expunged from the theatre we succumb to the fact that we are useless and there for dedicate our lives to remembering what it was like to be front and center and in the spot light. But as this cowboy was to find out he was neither used nor discarded. On the contrary the cowboy was about to find himself in the middle of a hurricane that would envelope both his life and the lives of all the people on this small stage called earth. Now all he had to do was deliver this small package to kid he had never met, in a town he only dimly remembered, and in a society he long ago abandoned.

“I hope you’re ready for this Thomas… whoever you are.”