If you haven't heard about Sen. Barbara Boxer's kerfuffle with Harry Alford, please do watch and learn. Take the time to listen to Mr. Alford. There are two quotes toward the end of the video that are simply priceless.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Genocide
Civil rights. Think about it. Fifty percent of African American babies are aborted.
"The most dangerous place for an African American to be is in the womb of their African American mother." Rev. Clenard H. Childress, Jr.
"The most dangerous place for an African American to be is in the womb of their African American mother." Rev. Clenard H. Childress, Jr.
Knowing Your Enemy
Okay. You all probably know I have a bit (well, a bit more than a bit) of the Charismatic about me. Strange, because I have an absolute desire for the Latin Mass. I don't think the two are incompatible, however.
That said, I have been learning about demons. Heinous and horrible and all that is depraved. But, one must know one's enemy, n'est ce pas?
I'm just starting Neal Lozano's Unbound: A Practical Guide to Deliverance. Can I speak frankly to you? This is a wonderful book. Like Francis MacNutt's book it is truly practical and matter-of-fact. He has the Biblical understanding that demons are real, that they act upon humans in devilish ways and that they are out to steal us away from the Kingdom of Heaven.
From the book's Introduction:
I have not written this book to prove the existence of the devil. I focus on deliverance from evil spirits in the context of the normal Christian life. Many people have gone to counseling, confessed their sins, pursued a God-centered life and done all they know to be free from spiritual bondage in specific areas of their lives. No matter what they do, they find no relief. Many faithful, committed believers have lived with hidden sin, compulsion and fear due to the deception that surrounds the work of evil spirits. It may never have occurred to them that they might need deliverance from evil spirits.
It is no good putting one's head in the sand anymore. We are far past that now. Good warriors know the enemy. They know what power was given to Christians by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And they use that power to obey Him and cast out demons. This ability will be needed more than ever in the months and years ahead.
The books I've mentioned, and I've got a few more coming down the pike, are very helpful in equipping Christians. I urge you to take up this cross, learn about the ways of the devil, and thus be of use in defeating him, his minions, and his vile reign on earth.
That said, I have been learning about demons. Heinous and horrible and all that is depraved. But, one must know one's enemy, n'est ce pas?
I'm just starting Neal Lozano's Unbound: A Practical Guide to Deliverance. Can I speak frankly to you? This is a wonderful book. Like Francis MacNutt's book it is truly practical and matter-of-fact. He has the Biblical understanding that demons are real, that they act upon humans in devilish ways and that they are out to steal us away from the Kingdom of Heaven.
From the book's Introduction:
I have not written this book to prove the existence of the devil. I focus on deliverance from evil spirits in the context of the normal Christian life. Many people have gone to counseling, confessed their sins, pursued a God-centered life and done all they know to be free from spiritual bondage in specific areas of their lives. No matter what they do, they find no relief. Many faithful, committed believers have lived with hidden sin, compulsion and fear due to the deception that surrounds the work of evil spirits. It may never have occurred to them that they might need deliverance from evil spirits.
It is no good putting one's head in the sand anymore. We are far past that now. Good warriors know the enemy. They know what power was given to Christians by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And they use that power to obey Him and cast out demons. This ability will be needed more than ever in the months and years ahead.
The books I've mentioned, and I've got a few more coming down the pike, are very helpful in equipping Christians. I urge you to take up this cross, learn about the ways of the devil, and thus be of use in defeating him, his minions, and his vile reign on earth.
The Tabernacle
I've been told by those 'In the Know' that the placement of the tabernacle, once done, cannot be undone. This of course, after the tabernacle was moved some years ago from the center of the altar to a place less visible and to the left (as you're facing the altar). By mere people no less. It didn't just move itself. I've always fervently believed that what man has done can be UNDONE. It would be reverent and manifestly right to have the tabernacle put back in its original place in our beautiful historic church.
A bishop in Indiana has the right idea. God bless him!
A bishop in Indiana has the right idea. God bless him!
Big Brother
Amazon Removes Ebooks from Kindle Store, Revokes Ownership. From the article:
This unusual maneuver, which Amazon says occurred because Orwell's publisher changed its mind about offering the electronic version of these titles, is all the more unsettling simply because readers already purchased the books and had their ownership of the item revoked. In the Orwell case, the item was simply no longer there--it was as if those Kindle users never owned it.
This unusual maneuver, which Amazon says occurred because Orwell's publisher changed its mind about offering the electronic version of these titles, is all the more unsettling simply because readers already purchased the books and had their ownership of the item revoked. In the Orwell case, the item was simply no longer there--it was as if those Kindle users never owned it.
Even though...
Even though the world is going to pot and the USA is caught in the downward vortex, life still goes on. If you like to cook, if you know its spiritual dimensions--how it can drive evil spirits away and create an atmosphere of good will toward mankind--then enjoy Tasty Kitchen. Ree of Pioneer Woman has done it again. God bless her!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Choose Life
The battle rages. My young friend J 'lost' her baby--by taking a prescription from Planned Parenthood. H/t to American Papist for the video.
Our Lady of Mount Carmel
For my friend, Julia, who has a devotion to our Lady of Mount Carmel:
From Prayer for the Morning in July's Magnificat:
From Prayer for the Morning in July's Magnificat:Mary of Carmel, crowned with heaven's glory,
Look on us, Mother, as we sing your praises;
Be with us always, joy of saints and angels,
Joy of creation.
Come to God's mountain, all who serve our Lady:
Sing to God's glory, young and old together,
Full hearts outpouring Mary's song of worship,
Thanking her Maker.
Sing to the Father, who exalts his handmaid,
Sing to God's Wisdom, Son who chose his mother,
Sing to their Spirit, Love that overshadowed
Mary, chaste Virgin.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
'Above All' Youth Retreat
I had no idea just how charismatic Franciscan University at Steubenville truly is. Wow, in my days as a Charismatic I would've been right at home at Steubenville. Of course, I would've had to overcome the 'stumblingblock' of adoration, but...
Anyway, the drive down was difficult. I had been feeling some anxiety for days beforehand--a certain oppression and darkness. It just got worse the farther I got from home (I'll explain later). The wo-man van (as opposed to the man van) had enough pop music to warm the cockles of any teen girl's heart. I would've given anything to hear some old classic rock, but it was not to be. :-)
The Friday night session was intense. The speakers were all quite good and the music, too. If you've ever been to a Protestant conference it was almost exactly the same. The only difference being priests and nuns and seminarians were present and a short period of adoration, and the offer of reconciliation. The speakers all knew how to connect with the teens--Righteous B and Chris Padgett and Shannon Dietz and more. There was even a rapping priest from Oregon.
The days were just filled. I mean, there was really no room for anything but the retreat. I mean it. No. Breathing. Room. This was very difficult for me because of the intense darkness that had descended upon me.
Saturday night adoration was wonderful. I am glad I stayed, though a big part of me (dealing with the mental attack) wanted to run out of that filled auditorium and just keep running. As the priest took around the Blessed Sacrament the crowd became increasingly emotional. The music, the monstrance, the desire to be with the Lord grew and grew in that big auditorium. After a while, young people were being carried out, many swooning and shaking and crying or laughing. If one was to compare it with a pentacostal traditional event it would've won hands down. The actual presence of the Lord, well, you know. :-)
However, I do have to say that I've been to many such events and the high emotions do not last. When the 'sweet in the mouth' subsides the 'bitter in the belly' begins. I pray that there were some true conversions, the kind that are founded on good soil, the kind that will grow.
All our teens had a wonderful time. The small group discussions were very helpful and there was a lot of bonding going on. A couple of the teens were deeply touched by Mass and Adoration, saying they had a new appreciation for the power of God present there. Our youth minister plans on following up and extending the grace that God poured on all of us during the weekend.
By Sunday morning, though, I was almost paralyzed with the mental darkness. It was some type of spiritual oppression, and I could not get a handle on where it was coming from. If any of you have had these types of attacks you know how awful it can be. You kind of get swallowed up in the darkness and confusion. I managed to get some sleep on Saturday night by praying hard and asking Mama Mary to intercede for me. Boy did she ever. Not only did I sleep straight through five or six hours but I had some really pleasant dreams, which is quite unusual for me.
Anyway, I ended up helping my son who'd been ill for the weekend. He got sick on the trip to Steubenville and had been sick the whole time. By Sunday morning it was obvious he needed some over-the-counter remedies (Pepto Bismol and more) and a good meal. It gave me the breathing room I needed as we drove to town and then had a late breakfast at a sit-down restaurant (as opposed to fast food).
By the time we got on the road I was feeling a little bit better. The closer we got to home, the better I felt. On Monday afternoon, I got a call from my mom telling me that my aunt had died either late Friday night or early Saturday morning. My aunt was a devoted Christian Scientist, a practitioner, in fact. She had apparently fallen a week earlier and broke her clavicle and hit her head. Refusing medical treatment she entered a Christian Science nursing home. She was conscious and coherent, but died suddenly after several days in the nursing facility.
I am convinced that this was the darkness I was experiencing. I had been close to my aunt for a few years until I left Christian Science and converted to Catholicism. The last time I talked to my aunt she said, "I suppose it is alright to talk to you once in a while." She knew we had left Christian Science and it was very difficult for her to keep the family ties going. When someone leaves CS those left behind feel very betrayed.
Anyway, I bought a book at the university bookstore that I highly recommend. Titled Deliverance from Evil Spirits: A Practical Manual, it's by Francis MacNutt, a former Catholic priest who was later laicized, married, and has two grown children. He's considered one of the fathers of the charismatic renewal. This book is one of the most helpful I have ever read on the subject. He knows what he is talking about.
Anyway, the drive down was difficult. I had been feeling some anxiety for days beforehand--a certain oppression and darkness. It just got worse the farther I got from home (I'll explain later). The wo-man van (as opposed to the man van) had enough pop music to warm the cockles of any teen girl's heart. I would've given anything to hear some old classic rock, but it was not to be. :-)
The Friday night session was intense. The speakers were all quite good and the music, too. If you've ever been to a Protestant conference it was almost exactly the same. The only difference being priests and nuns and seminarians were present and a short period of adoration, and the offer of reconciliation. The speakers all knew how to connect with the teens--Righteous B and Chris Padgett and Shannon Dietz and more. There was even a rapping priest from Oregon.
The days were just filled. I mean, there was really no room for anything but the retreat. I mean it. No. Breathing. Room. This was very difficult for me because of the intense darkness that had descended upon me.
Saturday night adoration was wonderful. I am glad I stayed, though a big part of me (dealing with the mental attack) wanted to run out of that filled auditorium and just keep running. As the priest took around the Blessed Sacrament the crowd became increasingly emotional. The music, the monstrance, the desire to be with the Lord grew and grew in that big auditorium. After a while, young people were being carried out, many swooning and shaking and crying or laughing. If one was to compare it with a pentacostal traditional event it would've won hands down. The actual presence of the Lord, well, you know. :-)
However, I do have to say that I've been to many such events and the high emotions do not last. When the 'sweet in the mouth' subsides the 'bitter in the belly' begins. I pray that there were some true conversions, the kind that are founded on good soil, the kind that will grow.
All our teens had a wonderful time. The small group discussions were very helpful and there was a lot of bonding going on. A couple of the teens were deeply touched by Mass and Adoration, saying they had a new appreciation for the power of God present there. Our youth minister plans on following up and extending the grace that God poured on all of us during the weekend.
By Sunday morning, though, I was almost paralyzed with the mental darkness. It was some type of spiritual oppression, and I could not get a handle on where it was coming from. If any of you have had these types of attacks you know how awful it can be. You kind of get swallowed up in the darkness and confusion. I managed to get some sleep on Saturday night by praying hard and asking Mama Mary to intercede for me. Boy did she ever. Not only did I sleep straight through five or six hours but I had some really pleasant dreams, which is quite unusual for me.
Anyway, I ended up helping my son who'd been ill for the weekend. He got sick on the trip to Steubenville and had been sick the whole time. By Sunday morning it was obvious he needed some over-the-counter remedies (Pepto Bismol and more) and a good meal. It gave me the breathing room I needed as we drove to town and then had a late breakfast at a sit-down restaurant (as opposed to fast food).
By the time we got on the road I was feeling a little bit better. The closer we got to home, the better I felt. On Monday afternoon, I got a call from my mom telling me that my aunt had died either late Friday night or early Saturday morning. My aunt was a devoted Christian Scientist, a practitioner, in fact. She had apparently fallen a week earlier and broke her clavicle and hit her head. Refusing medical treatment she entered a Christian Science nursing home. She was conscious and coherent, but died suddenly after several days in the nursing facility.
I am convinced that this was the darkness I was experiencing. I had been close to my aunt for a few years until I left Christian Science and converted to Catholicism. The last time I talked to my aunt she said, "I suppose it is alright to talk to you once in a while." She knew we had left Christian Science and it was very difficult for her to keep the family ties going. When someone leaves CS those left behind feel very betrayed.
Anyway, I bought a book at the university bookstore that I highly recommend. Titled Deliverance from Evil Spirits: A Practical Manual, it's by Francis MacNutt, a former Catholic priest who was later laicized, married, and has two grown children. He's considered one of the fathers of the charismatic renewal. This book is one of the most helpful I have ever read on the subject. He knows what he is talking about.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Travelin'
Just got back from a grueling 'pilgrimage' to Franciscan University at Steubenville. Teen retreat. I am exhausted, drained, and have heard enough loud music to last a lifetime. However, adoration was a revelation. Will blog about it soon. Just glad to be back home.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The race thing...endlessly
Come on, people. Racism is not an exclusively white problem. It infects the human race as a whole. Period.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Books
So I'm just starting The End of the Present World by Fr. Charles Arminjon. I think my friend, Julia, has just begun reading it, too. I am just a few pages in, but delighted by the tone and style. It is learned and unafraid.
Another book I'm just starting is The Divine Office for Dodos: A Step by Step Buide to Praying the Liturgy of the Hours, by Madeline Pecora Nugent. I have a beautiful breviary: Benedictine Daily Prayer: A Short Breviary and I want to learn how to use it. Madeline is very thorough and I am awaiting the bookmarks and ribbons that she advocates for learning the Divine Office. There is something immensely attractive about praying with the whole Church. There is power in it.
Another book I'm just starting is The Divine Office for Dodos: A Step by Step Buide to Praying the Liturgy of the Hours, by Madeline Pecora Nugent. I have a beautiful breviary: Benedictine Daily Prayer: A Short Breviary and I want to learn how to use it. Madeline is very thorough and I am awaiting the bookmarks and ribbons that she advocates for learning the Divine Office. There is something immensely attractive about praying with the whole Church. There is power in it.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Faith
Maman has decamped. I am recovering. I do not mean to harp on her. This is one of those situations where one's mind is so opposite to the other's that, inevitably, one will is dominent and the other will subordinate. To honor a parent in these situations often means to be in the subordinate mode. After eight days, one hardly feels one is a distinct individual. And to my shame, I failed in one particular episode.
Poor maman has it in for the Catholic Church and delights in any and all bad news emanating from the press. I did, finally, cast some aspersions on her faith tradition (Episcopalian). It was not a pretty moment, but it was only a moment and we both went on admirably, though confession is in my immediate future.
However, last night's monthly healing mass washed much of the unpleasantness away. Father, being from Nigeria, the healing masses have a charismatic flair that is perfectly suited for those in need of healing. Yes, there are tears and emotion among the prayers. Many there are in deep need of healing. The Holy Spirit hovers. Things hidden are revealed. Some things are let go, and some things embraced. It is altogether right to express emotion at these times.
Yet, it dawned on me not so long ago that at its core faith has nothing to do with emotion. Faith is a rock solid trust in God and His promises. I think of Father Abraham. God had promised him that his seed, through Isaac, would be numberless like the stars. And Abraham believed. He had faith. He did not doubt. Even when God subsequently asked him to sacrifice Isaac, Abraham stood on the earlier promise. Somehow, Isaac would live--whether through "My son, God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering," or through a resurrection of Isaac. Abraham did not doubt that God's promise would come to pass. That is an uncompromised faith.
So last night as the healing prayers were being said for those in need, I prayed a Rosary. The glorious Rosary--such a powerful prayer. I meditated on the Sorrowful Mysteries and cried out to Mother Mary to intercede for all those in need. And these words came to me: "Do not let my Son's sacrifice be for nothing. Have faith in God."
Each one of us is given a measure of faith, the Scriptures tell us. But it is up to us to put that faith into practice. That is how faith is strengthened. To know God's promises in Scripture, and to stand on them, to be free from doubt, no matter the present situation, is a powerful antidote to satan and his evil works. Building upon the measure of faith we are endowed with is the work of a lifetime. It is the race, the good fight, that Paul tells us of.
So I ask you boldly to pray a prayer of faith with me that all those prayed for last night will be healed. I especially ask that J and her boyfriend T do not abort their baby. The pressure on J is immense. All involved with her are urging abortion. She is resisting, praise God.
Poor maman has it in for the Catholic Church and delights in any and all bad news emanating from the press. I did, finally, cast some aspersions on her faith tradition (Episcopalian). It was not a pretty moment, but it was only a moment and we both went on admirably, though confession is in my immediate future.
However, last night's monthly healing mass washed much of the unpleasantness away. Father, being from Nigeria, the healing masses have a charismatic flair that is perfectly suited for those in need of healing. Yes, there are tears and emotion among the prayers. Many there are in deep need of healing. The Holy Spirit hovers. Things hidden are revealed. Some things are let go, and some things embraced. It is altogether right to express emotion at these times.
Yet, it dawned on me not so long ago that at its core faith has nothing to do with emotion. Faith is a rock solid trust in God and His promises. I think of Father Abraham. God had promised him that his seed, through Isaac, would be numberless like the stars. And Abraham believed. He had faith. He did not doubt. Even when God subsequently asked him to sacrifice Isaac, Abraham stood on the earlier promise. Somehow, Isaac would live--whether through "My son, God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering," or through a resurrection of Isaac. Abraham did not doubt that God's promise would come to pass. That is an uncompromised faith.
So last night as the healing prayers were being said for those in need, I prayed a Rosary. The glorious Rosary--such a powerful prayer. I meditated on the Sorrowful Mysteries and cried out to Mother Mary to intercede for all those in need. And these words came to me: "Do not let my Son's sacrifice be for nothing. Have faith in God."
Each one of us is given a measure of faith, the Scriptures tell us. But it is up to us to put that faith into practice. That is how faith is strengthened. To know God's promises in Scripture, and to stand on them, to be free from doubt, no matter the present situation, is a powerful antidote to satan and his evil works. Building upon the measure of faith we are endowed with is the work of a lifetime. It is the race, the good fight, that Paul tells us of.
So I ask you boldly to pray a prayer of faith with me that all those prayed for last night will be healed. I especially ask that J and her boyfriend T do not abort their baby. The pressure on J is immense. All involved with her are urging abortion. She is resisting, praise God.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Government-run Media
Now it's the Washington Post. As if we didn't already know. Here's a blurb from their flyer:
What is guaranteed is a collegial evening, with Obama administration officials, Congress members, business leaders, advocacy leaders and other select minds typically on the guest list of 20 or less. By bringing together those powerful few in business and policy-making who are forwarding, legislating and reporting on the issues, Washington Post Salons give life to the debate.
Uh, no. Washington Post Salons give life to the shocking understanding that the press has prostituted itself. The Washington Post is a whore for Obama.
What is guaranteed is a collegial evening, with Obama administration officials, Congress members, business leaders, advocacy leaders and other select minds typically on the guest list of 20 or less. By bringing together those powerful few in business and policy-making who are forwarding, legislating and reporting on the issues, Washington Post Salons give life to the debate.
Uh, no. Washington Post Salons give life to the shocking understanding that the press has prostituted itself. The Washington Post is a whore for Obama.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Priest in need of prayer
Vivificat has posted about Fr. Geoff Farrow, a California priest who has strayed from the Truth and is advocating breaking the Knights of Columbus in order to support homosexual marriage. Fool.
However, prayers for his reformation are in order.
However, prayers for his reformation are in order.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
An idol's self-destruction
Michael Jackson's death is raising, inevitably, questions of the moral compass not only of Jackson himself, but of those who surrounded him and aided his deadly life path. Theodore Dalrymple has something to say on the subject. It is well worth reading.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Doctrine, doctrine, who's got the doctrine?
If you enjoy good, old-fashioned doctrinal wrangling, then read Taylor Marshall's blog post Calvinism vs. Catholicism: A Response to the Lane Keister at Green Baggins blog at Canterbury Tales. It's in response to this post: An Examination of Roman Catholicism at Green Baggins .
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Mon visiteur
Maman has been visiting for the last several days. She will be here for several more days. God is testing me. Pray for me, s'il vous plaît. Merci.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
I have immersed myself in reading about the antichrist lately. It's one of those 'watch and pray' times in my life. We can't know the hour when our Lord returns, but He spoke to us about the End and gave us some clues and warned us.
Ultraguy at New Wineskins has been taking a look at recent events and his blog posts are fascinating trumpet calls. Again, we cannot know the day or the hour when the Lord comes again, but it behooves us to remember Jesus' words: Watch therefore, for you do not know what hour your Lord is coming." And, "Therefore you also be ready for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect." Watch and be ready, He's telling us. We all tend to concentrate on the when, but Jesus is telling us that we need to look out for him and be ready now. Eternal vigilance.
As a youth I had two recurring dreams that I won't go in to here, but which detailed some end-of-the-world events. When these dreams were happening I was not what you would call a Christian. I had been baptized as an infant (thank God for that sacramental grace), but we lived a secular family life. I knew virtually nothing of the Bible and my knowledge of Jesus was confined to Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia (thank God, again, for C. S. Lewis). However, the dreams revealed to me two things: an individual who personified evil, and the actual moment when final judgment came upon the earth. The dreams stopped when I became an adult, but their vividness and detail have remained with me.
So, I've been reading Lord of the World and Wrath of God: The Days of the Antichrist, and The End of the Present World, and things are falling into place. When the End comes, when our Lord comes, is not as important as being ready for Him, as watching for Him. He wants us to be prepared to do what is needed--whether it is to die for Him, to reign with Him, or to stay strong during persecution. He wants us ready in the 'twinkling of an eye.'
We've got lots of signs -- in all historical periods since Jesus ascended. There are types of antichrists and types of plagues and endtimes battles. These, I believe, show God's people the face of evil--what it looks like, how it acts. These signs keep those who are awake in a prayerful, a watchful mode. We become spiritual sentinels, seeing the signs of the times. The blessings of watching and praying are increased faith and sanctification--and fearlessness. Let me say that again: Increased faith and sanctification, and fearlessness are a result of watching and praying.
So, though we will not know the exact time (until it is upon us), we are prepared. We are not caught off guard. We will be standing strong for the Lord. I pray that He finds faith on the earth.
Ultraguy at New Wineskins has been taking a look at recent events and his blog posts are fascinating trumpet calls. Again, we cannot know the day or the hour when the Lord comes again, but it behooves us to remember Jesus' words: Watch therefore, for you do not know what hour your Lord is coming." And, "Therefore you also be ready for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect." Watch and be ready, He's telling us. We all tend to concentrate on the when, but Jesus is telling us that we need to look out for him and be ready now. Eternal vigilance.
As a youth I had two recurring dreams that I won't go in to here, but which detailed some end-of-the-world events. When these dreams were happening I was not what you would call a Christian. I had been baptized as an infant (thank God for that sacramental grace), but we lived a secular family life. I knew virtually nothing of the Bible and my knowledge of Jesus was confined to Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia (thank God, again, for C. S. Lewis). However, the dreams revealed to me two things: an individual who personified evil, and the actual moment when final judgment came upon the earth. The dreams stopped when I became an adult, but their vividness and detail have remained with me.
So, I've been reading Lord of the World and Wrath of God: The Days of the Antichrist, and The End of the Present World, and things are falling into place. When the End comes, when our Lord comes, is not as important as being ready for Him, as watching for Him. He wants us to be prepared to do what is needed--whether it is to die for Him, to reign with Him, or to stay strong during persecution. He wants us ready in the 'twinkling of an eye.'
We've got lots of signs -- in all historical periods since Jesus ascended. There are types of antichrists and types of plagues and endtimes battles. These, I believe, show God's people the face of evil--what it looks like, how it acts. These signs keep those who are awake in a prayerful, a watchful mode. We become spiritual sentinels, seeing the signs of the times. The blessings of watching and praying are increased faith and sanctification--and fearlessness. Let me say that again: Increased faith and sanctification, and fearlessness are a result of watching and praying.
So, though we will not know the exact time (until it is upon us), we are prepared. We are not caught off guard. We will be standing strong for the Lord. I pray that He finds faith on the earth.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Blood flows in Iran
If you can stomach the blood and violence, keep up with Atlas Shrugs, who is blogging the Iranian crackdown. Our press, as is noted in her blog, is absent. The president of the United States has chosen to support the mullahs. It is plain, is it not, that he cares nothing for people but all for power. A typical marxist/socialist. Power is what he craves and respects. This is an important story for the United States people, for it gives them a good idea of the inner workings of the president. Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy.
Melanie Phillips has more on the killings in Iran and President Obama.
Melanie Phillips has more on the killings in Iran and President Obama.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Iran
I haven't commented on the demonstrations and violence in Iran mainly because I am not sure of the underlying motives of the opposition leaders. I think young expat Iranians, who are all over the television assuring us that this is a burgeoning revolution of freedom and democracy, believe what they are saying. The videos and raw footage are compelling. And I think there are a good number of the student demonstrators who are fighting for their own understanding of liberty.
But I don't trust Mousavi. He's playing a very dangerous game and urging the people on toward martyrdom. He claims he is ready to be martyred, too. I suppose there could be several reasons: a) He's truly had an epiphany over the years and now believes in democracy and individual freedom; b) He saw an opening and took it, thinking that his only way to personal power is to overthrow Ahmedinajab and Khameni through a popular uprising; c) He's already in some type of hot water with the mullahs-in-charge and figured he didn't have much to lose; d) He's in cahoots with some of the other mullahs who are in-fighting with Khameni and they're making their move; e) A combination of the above.
Whatever his private reasons, I have a feeling they aren't quite as pure as those of the students. Here is an astute article about Obama's stance on Iran from the Wall Street Journal.
But I don't trust Mousavi. He's playing a very dangerous game and urging the people on toward martyrdom. He claims he is ready to be martyred, too. I suppose there could be several reasons: a) He's truly had an epiphany over the years and now believes in democracy and individual freedom; b) He saw an opening and took it, thinking that his only way to personal power is to overthrow Ahmedinajab and Khameni through a popular uprising; c) He's already in some type of hot water with the mullahs-in-charge and figured he didn't have much to lose; d) He's in cahoots with some of the other mullahs who are in-fighting with Khameni and they're making their move; e) A combination of the above.
Whatever his private reasons, I have a feeling they aren't quite as pure as those of the students. Here is an astute article about Obama's stance on Iran from the Wall Street Journal.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
My Dad
Frank Gompert is my dad. He's been gone 19 years now, but I think about him almost every day. Out of us four kids I look most like him. We were a lot alike in temperament, too, though Dad was much gentler than I. He never met a man he didn't like, and most people loved him. Dad was a 6' 4" athlete. His mom and dad separated when he and his sister were young. He spent some time with various aunts and uncles and foster homes (when things got really tough during the Depression).
The home he remembered most was a one-bedroom apartment in New York. His mom and sister slept in the bedroom and his bed was the livingroom couch. One of Dad's jobs was to scrub the postage stamp kitchen floor. He was raised on those strange foods that no one would eat nowadays (except me, since he taught me to love them) -- chicken gizzards and livers, tinned mackeral and anchovies and beef tongue.
Dad graduated from high school at age 16 and was in college on a basketball scholarship at the age of 17. He was a natural athlete and he was gorgeous. He met my mom at a USO dance in San Diego when she was 16 and he was 22 (he'd been drafted into the Korean War as a Marine. Never saw action but did go to Hawaii and Japan and played basketball for the Marines). Love at first sight. They were married before she graduated from high school. Dad went on to become a an assistant basketball coach at Iowa State University and then head coach at Wayne State University in Detroit.
Dad was one of the most patient men I've ever known. He was deeply and utterly in love with my mom -- who though she loved him back -- spent decades swearing she would divorce him as soon the last of us four kids was out of the house. After he died, she immediately elevated him to 'saint' status and has no memory of ever threatening to divorce him.
Dad was one of those athletes who could pick up a ball or racket or golf club and master the darn thing within a few months. When it became obvious that there would be no college for any of us unless we paid for it ourselves, he taught us tennis. Three of us were good enough to win scholarships to college (my sister to Stanford). In a way, he did pay for our college, because he spent hours a day playing tennis with us -- up at 5 a.m. before school for a two-hour workout, and then an hour or two after school--five days a week. Weekends were reserved for tournaments. It was that way for years. All that time paid off for us. My brother, though he got a finance degree, works as a tennis pro to this day.
I only remember him spanking me once. I deserved it. He spanked my sister once, too, when she was 18 or 19--she was mouthy. But I think he'd been patient with her mouthing off for a long time. He was a very patient man. My mom was thrilled that little sis finally got what was coming to her. I wish I'd been there to see it.
Dad was a very private man. He was also a spiritual seeker. His lapsed Catholic mother had got him involved in Christian Science as a kid, and that's all the religion he ever knew. But he lived out the best of Christian principles. Who would think that a man who made his living teaching sports would have a funeral filled to overflowing with mourners? People from waaaayyy back flew across the country to be at his funeral. The reception line was a revelation to me. Weeping friends would say things like 'You don't know what your dad meant to me. He was the most loving guy I've ever met,' or, 'Your dad helped me at a rough time in my life,' and so forth. Great big basketball players sobbed.
Dad always took some individual time with us kids. When he took you to lunch and spent an hour or two just with you it felt like you were the most important person in the world. I only saw him cry once, when my older sister died. He had a very hard time facing it, but just after her funeral I saw him sitting in the kitchen, weeping like a baby, saying, 'What did she ever do to deserve this? She was such a good girl.' She was a good girl. And he was a good, good man. I miss him very much.
The home he remembered most was a one-bedroom apartment in New York. His mom and sister slept in the bedroom and his bed was the livingroom couch. One of Dad's jobs was to scrub the postage stamp kitchen floor. He was raised on those strange foods that no one would eat nowadays (except me, since he taught me to love them) -- chicken gizzards and livers, tinned mackeral and anchovies and beef tongue.
Dad graduated from high school at age 16 and was in college on a basketball scholarship at the age of 17. He was a natural athlete and he was gorgeous. He met my mom at a USO dance in San Diego when she was 16 and he was 22 (he'd been drafted into the Korean War as a Marine. Never saw action but did go to Hawaii and Japan and played basketball for the Marines). Love at first sight. They were married before she graduated from high school. Dad went on to become a an assistant basketball coach at Iowa State University and then head coach at Wayne State University in Detroit.
Dad was one of the most patient men I've ever known. He was deeply and utterly in love with my mom -- who though she loved him back -- spent decades swearing she would divorce him as soon the last of us four kids was out of the house. After he died, she immediately elevated him to 'saint' status and has no memory of ever threatening to divorce him.
Dad was one of those athletes who could pick up a ball or racket or golf club and master the darn thing within a few months. When it became obvious that there would be no college for any of us unless we paid for it ourselves, he taught us tennis. Three of us were good enough to win scholarships to college (my sister to Stanford). In a way, he did pay for our college, because he spent hours a day playing tennis with us -- up at 5 a.m. before school for a two-hour workout, and then an hour or two after school--five days a week. Weekends were reserved for tournaments. It was that way for years. All that time paid off for us. My brother, though he got a finance degree, works as a tennis pro to this day.
I only remember him spanking me once. I deserved it. He spanked my sister once, too, when she was 18 or 19--she was mouthy. But I think he'd been patient with her mouthing off for a long time. He was a very patient man. My mom was thrilled that little sis finally got what was coming to her. I wish I'd been there to see it.
Dad was a very private man. He was also a spiritual seeker. His lapsed Catholic mother had got him involved in Christian Science as a kid, and that's all the religion he ever knew. But he lived out the best of Christian principles. Who would think that a man who made his living teaching sports would have a funeral filled to overflowing with mourners? People from waaaayyy back flew across the country to be at his funeral. The reception line was a revelation to me. Weeping friends would say things like 'You don't know what your dad meant to me. He was the most loving guy I've ever met,' or, 'Your dad helped me at a rough time in my life,' and so forth. Great big basketball players sobbed.
Dad always took some individual time with us kids. When he took you to lunch and spent an hour or two just with you it felt like you were the most important person in the world. I only saw him cry once, when my older sister died. He had a very hard time facing it, but just after her funeral I saw him sitting in the kitchen, weeping like a baby, saying, 'What did she ever do to deserve this? She was such a good girl.' She was a good girl. And he was a good, good man. I miss him very much.
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