Postcards from the Fast Lane

Young Irena

Tomorrow, May 8 is Mother’s Day and mothers across the nation will be honored. However odd as it may appear, I feel it altogether proper and fitting that we celebrate the life of a lady who passed away May 12, 2008.

Listen to her story…

Irena Sendler was a Polish Catholic woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children in Poland during World War II. She talked Jewish parents and grandparents out of their children, rightly saying that all were going to die in the Ghetto or in death camps, taking the children past the Nazi guards …and then adopting them into the homes of Polish families or hiding them in convents and orphanages.

She made lists of the children’s real names and put the lists in jars, then buried the jars in the garden, so that someday she could dig up the jars and find the children to tell them about their true identity.

The Ghetto enclosed 16 square blocks of the city and 450,000 Jewish people were forced into this area. Irena used her papers as a Polish social worker and papers of the workers of the Contagious Disease Department (as part of the underground Zegota) to enter the Warsaw Ghetto.

She used the old courthouse at the edge of the Warsaw Ghetto (still standing) as one of the main routes of smuggling children out. There were five main means of escape: 1. Using an ambulance, a child could be taken out hidden under a stretcher. 2. Escape through the courthouse. 3. A child could be taken out using the sewer pipes or other secret underground passages. 4. A trolley could carry out children hiding in a sack, in a trunk, a suitcase or something similar. 5. If a child could pretend to be sick or was actually ill, it could be legally removed using the ambulance.

Irena (code name Jolanta) was arrested on October 20, 1943 and placed in the notorious Pawiak prison, were she was constantly questioned and tortured. During the questioning, her legs and feet were broken. She received a death sentence and was to be shot. Unknown to her, Zegota had bribed the German executioner who helped her escape.

Irena 2007

During the remaining years of the war, she lived hidden, just like the children she rescued. Irena was the only one who knew where the children were to be found. When the war was finally over, she dug up the bottles and began the job of finding the children and trying to find a living parent. Almost all the parents of the children Irena saved died at Treblinka death camp.

“It took a true miracle to save a Jewish child,” Elzbieta Ficowska, who was saved by Sendler’s team as a baby in 1942, recalled in an AP interview in 2007. “Mrs. Sendler saved not only us, but also our children and grandchildren and the generations to come.”

We Shall Never Forget

A true angel lived on earth amidst the death and despair of the Nazis.

Irena Sendler…Holocaust Mother

     There was a big wedding in England this week. Anybody who is anybody was invited. It was the beautiful people on earth all gathered to see Prince William wed Kate Middleton at Westminster Abbey. However, the man who occupies the Oval Office was not invited. Nor was the Ambassador to Syria, a terrorist sponsoring nation.

There’s going to be another wedding even bigger than the royals. Not everybody will make the list on this wedding either. In fact, you will be most likely surprised who is there.

It’s been a long time in preparation.

In typical Jewish tradition, the bridegroom has gone to prepare a place for his bride at his father’s estate. When the father says that the abode is ready, the bridegroom will return for his bride.

The bride is supposed to be spotless and ready, for she does not know at what day or time her groom will return. She should have her life in order, ready to leave with her husband on a moments notice. She has many, many who tend to her. They are also to keep watch for the return of the groom, as it may be like a thief in the night.

Unlike the royals’ guest book, the names of those who will attend this wedding are kept in a book away from the public’s eye. In fact, not all who know the groom and have done many wonderful works in his name will be allowed to enter in. Some who have known the groom for a long time while others who have known him only a short time will both be allowed to come.

It’s not a list of celebrities. In fact, a lot of common folk will make the list, to the great astonishment of others. Some might be those who work in the field, others in factories, still others who are fishermen. Some might have a lot of money, but most will not.

Notwithstanding, this will be the most important of royal weddings in history.

By now you may have figured out that I am referring to the wedding of the Church with Jesus Christ. It is the wedding that nobody would want to miss. And it’s not going to matter whether you are the president of the United States or the ambassador to Syria. All that matters is your heart and whether you have accepted Jesus as your savior and have kept his commandments.

While many may have wished and hoped they were in the guest book for the Will and Kate wedding, the one thing everyone should want to be sure of is to have your name written in the book of life. Revelation 20:15 says, “And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.”

Do you have an invitation?

Bill Wilson

An old and beautiful legend…the story of the Dogwood Tree…appropriately reminds us that Easter is a time of new beginnings and freshness. It’s a special time of celebrating the new life…eternal life after death…of Jesus Christ.

The legend goes like this…the Dogwood Tree was once a proud tree which grew straight and tall. Builders, because of the tree’s strength, prized its lumber. The builder who was contracted to build the cross upon which Jesus was to be crucified, chose the dogwood tree because it towered above the rest with all the majesty of the forest.

The Dogwood Tree chosen by the builder was proud to have been chosen, but it did not know what it was about to be used for. When the builder had completed his work, the Dogwood was filled with pride. However, when the Dogwood realized what it had truly been chosen for, it was devastated. It begged God to forgive it and take away its majesty.

God the Son who noted even a sparrow’s fall, whose last compassion was for a repentant thief, similarly forgave the repentant Dogwood Tree for its unfortunate fate.

God agreed to remove the majesty the Dogwood once possessed. The Dogwood also requested that God make it a symbol of remembrance of the death of Christ Jesus who died for all our sins. God first transformed the tall, strong, majestic tree into a slender, bent, twisted tree that was no longer prized by builders. Once this was done, God gave the Dogwood a blossom with four pedals to symbolize the cross to which Jesus was nailed. On the tips of each pedal, He left a notch to symbolize the holes created by the nails used to place Jesus on the cross. God also placed a crimson stain around the notches, signifying the blood from Jesus’ hands and feet being nailed to the cross. In the center of the blossom, God placed the crown of thorns that Jesus wore.

Every spring, before Easter arrives, the Dogwood Tree blossoms to remind us of what Jesus did for us. It grows gracefully… blooming in Spring when there is joy in the renewing of life. As the blooms mature, the red begins to fade and white becomes more dominant. White is symbolic for forgiveness through the blood.

The Dogwood Tree gave up its strength, height and majesty to tell us the story of the crucifixion of Jesus.

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Dear Readers, you can read for yourselves about
the crucifixion of Jesus  in John, chapters 18, 19, and 20…

Postscript: See you Saturday, April 30

     An old wives’ tale is a type of legend, similar to a proverb, which is generally passed down by old wives to a younger generation. The concept of old wives’ tales is ancient. In the 1^st century, the apostle Paul wrote to his young protégé Timothy. But refuse profane and old wives’ fables and exercise thyself unto godliness. (I Timothy 4:7).

This is definitely an admonition to Timothy to steer clear of such sayings. But even today, we cling to such tales without realizing that it is an old wives’ tale.

Take for example, the tradition of the bride throwing her bouquet. It’s believed that whoever is “lucky” enough to catch the bouquet will be the next to marry. Simply an old wives’ tale.

How about knocking on wood for added insurance lest some misfortune thwart your present status quo?

The question remains…why do we cling to such erroneous secular tales when we have an entire book in the Bible dedicated to Godly counsel?

The Book of Proverbs!

The answer might lie in the fact that the world is constantly searching for quick answers and remedies…choosing to turn to Granny and her superstitious old wives’ tales rather than opening the Word of God to search out the true answers.

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Dear Readers, let’s take the apostle Paul’s advice to Timothy, But refuse profane and old wives’ fables and exercise thyself unto godliness.

     Matthew 4:4 tells us that Jesus, when tempted by Satan in the wilderness, replied, “It is written, man shall not live by bread alone, but by every Word that proceeds out of the mouth of God.”

I Peter 2:2 says, As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the Word that you may grow thereby. And Job 23:12 tells us, I have esteemed the Words of His mouth more than my necessary food.

The Word is telling us to feed ourselves daily without fail. The more you eat, the quicker you will grow.

Vow to read God’s Word every day, without fail. Say to yourself, “No Bible, no breakfast. No read, no feed.” Be like Job and put your Bible before your belly. If you do that, God promises that you will be like a fruitful, strong, and healthy tree (Psalm 1).

Each day, find somewhere quiet and thoroughly soak your soul in the Word of God.

There may be times when you read through its pages with great enthusiasm and other times when it seems dry and even boring. But food profits your body whether it’s your favorite or not…just as scripture profits your soul whether it’s your favorite passage or not.

As a child, you no doubt ate desserts with great enthusiasm. Perhaps vegetables weren’t so exciting. If you were a normal child, you probably had to be encouraged to eat them at first. Then, as you matured in life you were taught to discipline yourself to eat vegetables because they benefit you physically…the same is true of disciplined Bible study.

Before you realize it, you will think like the Prophet Jeremiah 15:16 Thy Words were found and I did eat them and thy Word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart.

Psalm 119:103 How sweet are Your Words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! 

Hallelujah!

     Ezekiel prophesied that the Messiah would come with healing in His “wings.” The Hebrew word for “wings” is also used to identify the tassels that Jewish men wore on the corners of their robe. Based on this prophecy, the Jews expected the Messiah to have healing in His tassels.

As a Jewish rabbi, Jesus probably wore tassels on the corners of His garment. The Jewish practice of wearing these tassels developed from God’s command in Numbers 15:38-39 You are to make tassels on the corners of your garments so you will remember all the commands of the Lord.

In Jewish history, the tassels were incorporated into the Jewish prayer shawl called the tallit. On each corner of the prayer shawl are long tassels or tzitzit knotted five times to remind the Jews of the five books of Moses. The four spaces between these knots represent the letters of God’s name, YHWH. And the knots along the prayer shawl edges number exactly 613-knotted string, representing the 613 laws of the Torah.

Malachi 4:2 But unto you that fear My name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings.

During His ministry, one woman demonstrated her faith in Jesus by seeking healing in His tassels. Mark 5:27-28 She had heard the reports concerning Jesus and she came up behind Him in the throng and touched His garment, for she kept saying, If I only touch His garments, I shall be restored to health.

When she touched the Messiah’s tassels, the woman was healed. And Jesus commended her for her faith.

Healing in His tzitzit…healing in His wings…healing in His tassels. The Messiah would have healing in His wings…tassels. The ill woman knew in her very soul that she needed to reach out and grasp the tassels of Jesus’ prayer shawl. “If I only touch His garments, I shall be restored to health.” And she instantly felt healing within her body.

The beautiful old Christmas carol, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” lyrics by Charles Wesley (brother of John Wesley, founder of Methodism), arranged by George Whitfield, and tune by Felix Mendelssohn further reminds us of Jesus’ wings of healing…

“Hail the heav’nly Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Ris’n with healing in His wings.
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth.

Hark! The herald angels sing,
‘Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!’
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th’angelic host proclaim,
‘Christ is born in Bethlehem!’”

     The old Biblical days farmer reached into a great pouch of seed tied around his shoulder, hanging to his side. Taking out a handful of seed he walked along a great field and cast his seed, hoping it would find good soil.

Some of the seed fell on the pathway that had been packed down by people, carts, and animals. So the seed just lay there and the birds came along and ate it.

Some of the seed fell on areas that were rocky and the soil was thin. The seeds spouted but could not establish a root system and died in the hot sun.

Some seed fell among thorns and weed seeds. As they all spouted, the thorns and weeds took over…stunting and choking out the good seed.

But some of the seed fell right where it was supposed to land, in good, fertile, soft soil. It grew and produced fruit. (Mark 4:1-20)

In case you’re not familiar with The Gospel Farmer’s Co-op, let me introduce you to them…

The Gospel Farmer’s Co-op is an association operated by a group of individuals for the mutual benefit of the Kingdom of God. The Gospel Farmer’s Co-op is defined as persons united voluntarily to meet the common spiritual needs of friends, family, and strangers…in short, anyone and everyone. It’s a theocracy controlled totally by the Holy Spirit and membership to the co-op is free…everyone readily welcomed and encouraged to join.

What exactly are the guidelines?

1.    Voluntary and open membership
2.    Theocratic management
3.    Requires member’s faithful participation
4.    Education, training, and information available
5.    Autonomy and independence from the world
6.    Prayer-covering among co-operatives
7.    Common burden for the lost

What exactly are the responsibilities?

1.      Plant seeds of the Gospel of Jesus Christ
2.      Water seeds previously planted by other Gospel Farmers
3.      Reap the harvest by leading a lost soul in a sinner’s prayer

Jesus said in Mark 16:15 And He said unto them, Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.

According to Jesus, Christians are to cast Gospel seeds in all the world. Will all the seed fall on good soil? No…but it’s our job to sow to the entire world and to water and nourish the seed that does fall in good soil. The Holy Spirit will do the rest.

John 4:35 …look on the fields for they are white already to harvest. …So that he who does the planting and he who does the reaping may rejoice together. …One sows and another reaps.

Hallelujah!

Dear Readers, won’t you become a member of
The Gospel Farmer’s Co-op?

Inspiration: Helium, Inc.

Continued from yesterday…

Without warning, the rain stopped…as abruptly as it had started. After surveying the “sleeping” jeep in its bed of mud, Mary grabbed the canvas backpacks of remaining medical supplies and off they went. The dense jungle surrounding them began to take on the eerie shadows of dusk…soon melting into an inky blackness. A strange suction-type sound accompanied each step they took as they trudged through the thick mud.

“Mother! My sandal came off in the mud!” cried Helga.

The small entourage stopped while Mother groped in the darkness to find Helga’s sandal and put it back on her foot. “How’s that, young lady?”

Mother, trying to lighten the mood, suggested they sing. Three little voices immediately broke into a round of “This Little Light of Mine.” Mother joined in…albeit her voice a bit shaky.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they heard Kenu calling out to them. Turning the bend in the road, they saw the dim lights of their house and the chorus turned into a cry of relief.

Homecoming was a mixture of tears, praise and thanks to the Lord for their safe return, baths in washtubs, and plates of food that Kenu had kept warm for them…and finally their own safe sweet-smelling beds. It was Heaven.

Next Morning, Mary told Kenu, “Take the rope from the shed and several big fellows from the village to pull the jeep back home …Jon will repair it when he returns home.”

“Yes Madam.”

Mother was kneading bread when Kenu came bounding back into the house, “Madam! Madam! Come look! Come Look!”

Mary ran after Kenu…unable to keep up with him. Suddenly, still panting heavily, he stopped, and pointed to the ground. There in the mud were the distinct tracks of the lion that was on the killing rampage in the area.

Kenu cried, “It’s the ‘bad one’…see the second claw is missing from the right foot.”

Mary stared in disbelief as they retraced their steps. When they reached the spot where Mary and the girls had stopped to replace Helga’s sandal, the lion also stopped…waiting just feet behind them. He had stalked them all the way from the jeep back to the house.

Mary cried grateful tears to the God of the Universe for protecting them the night before.

When Jon returned home, Mary was all set to tell him the compelling story of how God had performed a miracle…but Jon didn’t give her a chance.

“Mary, are you and the girls okay? Night before last, while I was in a meeting with several hundred missionaries, the Lord spoke to me and said for me to pray for your safety…NOW! So I interrupted the meeting and the entire conference of missionaries began to travail in pray for your safety.”

Needless to say, revival broke out in that village as well as in the surrounding villages.

There is power in prayer!

Jon Lindstrom closed and latched his worn satchel. “I shouldn’t be longer than three days, Mary.”

Mary straightened her husband’s tie. “Don’t worry about us…we’ll be just fine with Kenu looking after us.”

The year was 1946. The Lindstrom’s had been Kenyan Missionaries for almost five years now and knew that they were exactly where God wanted them. The girls were thriving in the small village with their native friends.

Daughters, Josie, Mollie, and Helga stood like wooden soldiers ready to salute their “captain” as he passed by.

Laughing, he grabbed each one and planted a kiss on the top of their heads. “Take care of Mother and remember to stay within the compounds of the village…I wouldn’t want that old lion getting indigestion from eating my three darlings.”

Every few years a lion would “go bad,” stalking and killing lone villagers just for the thrill of it…man-eaters they called them. Unfortunately, such an animal was prowling undercover of darkness in the vicinity of the Lindstrom’s village and had mauled a neighboring villager to death when the villager had gone down to the river for water after dark.

The lion was soon forgotten amid the girls laughter and silly giggling as they followed their father to the van.

After continuing to wave long after the van was out of sight, Mother finally called to the girls, “Chores, girls!”

That first day without Father was uneventful…however, that evening just before sundown, a messenger came from the neighboring village where sickness had broken out and medicine was needed to quell the high fever. Without giving it a second thought, Mother and the girls prepared to travel the ten miles or so the next morning. Mother thought to herself, God knew that we would need the old jeep…that’s why Jon traveled by van with other missionaries to the conference. “God is so good,” she thought out loud.

Early the next morning, Kenu loaded the jeep with medical supplies. “Please Madam, start home with plenty of light still in the sky.” Then as an added plea, “I could still go with you…”

“No, Kenu…you’re needed here. We’ll be just fine…I promise.”

The girls were in fine spirits as the old jeep bounced from one chug hole to another. After one particularly deep chug hole, Josie laughed. “Mother, I do believe this is only a ‘make believe’ road.”

The little missionary family minus one found the villagers eagerly awaiting their arrival. Mother administered medication to those needing help and prayed with the families for protection and healing.

Time passed much quicker than she realized. In fact, it was so late, they would barely have time to return to their village before dark.

About halfway home, the skies opened and a deluge of rain quickly soaked Mary and the girls.  Since the old jeep had no top covering, it began to fill with water. It didn’t take long before the poor excuse of a road turned to mud. And it was getting darker and darker. Suddenly, the jeep hit a huge mud-filled chug hole and the engine died. As hard as Mary tried, the engine wouldn’t crank and even if it had, the tires of the jeep were covered halfway to the top in the chug hole. They sat there a moment…Mary trying to decide what to do.

“Well, girls, looks like we’ll have to walk the rest of the way home.”

Postscript: Surprise ending tomorrow…