Prem: Apostle of Nepal Pt 3

Here’s Pt 3 in my pre-Nepal journey: Life of Prem – 1 of Nepal’s 1st apostles.
He spent 10 out of 15 years (1960-1975) in prison just for being a Christian, but God was with him and prison-time became prison-ministry: he preached the gospel to a captive audience and many became believers, went home and started churches in their villages. I remember him eating with us in our home, it was like having the apostle Paul with us: his simple manner exuded the calm unmoveable authority of Jesus! I specifically recall the hush over our church when he related the following story.

Not everyone favoured Prem as their mayor, however; some became envious and conspired all the more against him. He found himself again in prison, under the watch of a very evil warden who hated him with a passion. He determined to do away with Prem and put him in an unimaginably horrible situation: a dungeon filled with prisoners’ dead bodies awaiting their families’ retrieval for cremation. No room to stand up or lie down, no food, no water, no light, but lots of lice! Chained hand and foot, in complete darkness with only the company of rats and disease-infested, rotting corpses! Imagine being in such a hell-hole! He survived only by what little moisture he could scrape from the dank walls and bread crumbs that other prisoners generously snuck through the cracks between the massive door and stone floor. Days passed, but Prem’s courage grew. When he closed his eyes, he could envision pages of his Nepali New Testament. That’s how he read and prayed.
One day the guard outside heard him praying out loud.
“Who are you talking to?” the guard asked.
“Jesus,” Prem replied.
“I’m on guard. No one gets by me! How’d he get in there?”
“Well, He’s here.”
The guard opened the door and shined in his light.’ “I don’t see Jesus,” he said.
“You won’t find Him that way,” Prem said. “Let me tell you how you can find Him.”
The guard squatted on the threshold and Prem led him to the Lord.
Weeks passed in this chamber and eventually Prem despaired for his life. He began to lose sight of how God would call him to preach to his nation, only to have it end in this dungeon of death. It seemed all hope was gone and both the natural and spiritual darkness were overwhelming him.
But just when Prem was at the end of his rope, suddenly a supernatural light appeared on the wall: a glowing Cross radiated Christ’s presence, power and life.
Prem heard His Saviour’s voice, “Don’t be afraid, Prem! Don’t lose hope! You will preach the gospel in your own nation, and beyond, to other nations around the world!”
Shortly thereafter, the warden opened the door, fully expecting to find only Prem’s collapsed, wasted corpse. However, to his complete amazement, Prem walked out of the darkness and stood before him: a testimony of perfect health!
“But… how can this be?” he stammered. “I threw you among all those rotting bodies, without food or water for all these days, and now, rather than dead, you look more alive than when I threw you in! How can this be?”
“Do you really want to know?” Prem coolly replied.
… what an opportunity to share the Good News and indeed he did travel to Canada, the US and other countries and shared what God was doing in his own nation and that became my connection to now go to Nepal myself.

Back to Nepal Pt 2:

I head out on my 1st overseas trip since Erica’s death this Saturday.
I need your prayers so I want to let you know how the kingdom of God has impacted Nepal just in this last generation. Erica knew the importance of prayer; Nepalese Christians value its vital role; please read + pray with me for this nation to answer God's call.
Here's Pt 2 of Prem Pradhan- apostle: 
One time during his many years in prison, Maoist political prisoners overcame the guards and ran for freedom. The gates were open, everyone was running and Prem found himself also running with them, caught up in the excitement. However, when he reached the gate, an invisible wall suddenly prevented him from running further.
He heard Holy Spirit say, “If you cross through that gate and run for your freedom, you will have to keep running all the way to India and you will never be able to return to your country. Then you will never be free to fulfill your destiny and my call on your life.”
Prem stopped immediately, transfixed at an invisible line, unable to move.
Other prisoners rushed past him, shouting, ‘Come! This is our chance!’
But Prem stood there.
Still others shouted, “Hurry, Prem! Don’t lose this opportunity. Be free! Don’t be a fool!”
Incredibly, he remained standing. All the others escaped and within a few minutes, army reinforcements arrived to restore order. All the prisoners were gone, except one: Prem. The soldiers stared at their lone prisoner, standing in the courtyard all by himself, freedom’s gate still open before him.
“Why are you still here?” they wondered in amazement. “Why didn’t you go with the others when you had your chance?”
Prem replied, “Do you really want to know?”
Little did they know what they were in for when they responded, “Yes, why?” and Prem proceeded to share Christ with them all. He had earned the right to share ‘the reason for the hope that was in him’ and now also reaped the harvest.
God eventually opened many doors for this man who would not just run through any.
He knew that when God opened a door, no man could shut it, but when man tries to open what God has shut, his efforts are in vain.
During different interludes between prison sentences, Prem returned to his home village, where he continued sharing his faith and love for Jesus. Problems plagued Nepal: sickness, poverty and ignorance were rife and the traditional Hindu-Buddhist religions were unable to bring healing, life or light. The Light of Christ shone in thick darkness, and many were touched, even without their full understanding.
His village Hindu + Buddhist leaders could not agree on their local government council; the two sides were always fighting. So rather than choose a leader from either camp whom neither could trust, they asked Prem the Christian to serve as their mayor! They knew they could trust Prem. God has an ironic sense of humour: an illegal Christian became mayor of a Hindu/Buddhist town! God’s favour shone through Prem and he served in this capacity for many years, also founding orphanages and schools to care for his people. Even the King of Nepal heard of his humanitarian and educational work and presented him with a special Social Service Medal of Honour!
Let your light so shine!

Back to Nepal: A Nation in the Revolution of the Revelation of Jesus!

This Saturday I leave for my 1^st overseas Mission since Erica disappeared. I miss her not traveling with me, but she has now joined the ranks of that great cloud of witnesses and I’m sure she’s organizing prayer meetings in heaven right now, interceding for Christ’s kingdom to advance throughout the world. And that includes where I’m headed: Nepal. I was there 2 years ago and on my return, I’ll be teaching in a Training Centre for a week and then trekking into the Himalayas to visit some of the young pastor’s church plants. Please pray for me on this journey into these highest mountains in the world, where God is writing some of His greatest overcoming stories!

Here’s part of how Christ’s gospel is transforming this nation:

True apostles with such vision are rare these days.
But we had such a man stay with us in our home about 20 years ago: a true apostle, not an ego-tripping, looking-for-position-to-validate-his-identity-wannabe. Prem Pradhan was the real thing and having him in our church and home felt like having the Apostle Paul right with us. Prem came from Nepal, a strictly Hindu-Buddhist kingdom tucked in the Himalaya Mountains between India and China. A generation ago, Nepal had no known Christians. Prem served in the Indian army during WWII with the British Air Force and was shot down and wounded. He walked with a noticeable limp from that injury for the rest of his life. In early 1950’s northern India, Prem, about 30 years old, heard a disciple of Bakht Singh proclaim, “It is appointed unto man once to die, and after that the judgment.” (Heb 9:27)

It was a strange message for his Hindu understanding and he wondered how he could avoid that judgment. He asked the street preacher, who then challenged him to read the New Testament
– 6 times! Prem did. During his reading, he gave his life to Jesus and God called him to go back to his country and preach the gospel that had saved him. Like Moses, Prem at first objected.
“I am a cripple,” he argued, “how can I walk up and down mountains?
And I don’t know all the different languages to reach all those isolated villages!
I can’t hike and I can’t speak. Call someone else.” But God would not relent.

One more problem: in Nepal at that time, it was illegal to not only preach, but merely to be a Christian! An automatic 1-year prison sentence if a person changed religions, especially if they became Christian. For the more extreme: 3 years in jail for preaching, 6 if you were caught baptizing converts! Sure enough, after he returned to his country, it only took a short time and Prem was in trouble with the authorities. A paralyzed woman was healed when Prem prayed for her and the miracle so stirred the town that many turned to Christ, even the local Buddhist lama! Prem wrote and invited the local authorities to the new believers’ open baptism. “Jesus suffered openly for us,” he taught, “so we must be willing to suffer openly for Him.”
The enraged authorities arrested the believers and threw Prem in jail.
But they murdered the lama.

Prem languished in a dungeon of death. No ventilation in summer, no heat in winter. Sanitation facilities were non-existent, biting insects everywhere! Rehabilitation was not the goal of Nepalese jails. Prisoners were given bare survival rations of only one cup of rice per day to cook over their own little fires. Without help from relatives, many soon died.
He had done no harm; he was there just for who he was!
Prem was discouraged. “Lord, you saved me with a purpose: to preach the gospel to my nation. How can I do this when I’m stuck here in this filthy prison?” He first saw only filthy prisoners, but as he looked around, he noted that many were from outside his local area. He saw that the Lord had brought his mountain mission field to him! One by one, he started to minister to them naturally and spiritually, showing Christ’s love in this inside-the-prison Training Centre and one by one, he led them to Jesus. Eventually, on their release, they returned to their homes filled with Christ, shared their new faith and love with their families and friends, and started churches in their villages. God’s plan for evangelizing Nepal was different from what Prem had first envisioned: prison ministry with a twist! Soon churches began to spring up over the entire nation, more quickly and effectively than Prem could have ever done in his own way!
Then Satan’s persecution tactics changed. The prison warden grew very angry with Prem.
“Prem,” he said, “you must stop sharing your faith. After all, that’s why you’re here in prison! You must obey me!”
Prem responded like the early apostles: “I must first obey God in my life, in prison or out.”
The warden gave up in frustration and moved Prem to another prison. Prem saw the hand of God in this too: he had already finished evangelizing this prison; he was now ready for a new field to sow more gospel seed in other needy hearts!
Between 1960 and 1975, Prem spent 10 years in 14 different prisons!
Once his sentence was 20,000 days – 54 years! and his release came only when Western friends intervened and paid a ransom of 1 rupee per day, equivalent to $2000.

The only charge they could find against Prem was being a Christian. I wonder: if you were arrested for being a Christian, would the authorities find enough evidence to convict you?

Truth is not an idea, theory or opinion. Truth is a Person and His Name is Jesus

40 years and a generation has passed since ‘I’ve given up the pursuit of knowledge and found the love of Our Lord Jesus Christ!’ This sudden turn in my journey made all the difference. Without it, I would not have gone to Bible School, met and married Erica, together raised 3 kids, pastored, or helped STC eagles get their wings.
And more: 3 grandchildren! and then, the last year’s events: Erica’s disappearance, discovery and dealing with their aftermath.
How well have I dealt with these? How far along in this stage of my journey have I come?
Sometimes my heart cries out like the proverbial kids in the back seat: ‘Are we there yet?’
I don’t know how much progress I’ve made. I have nothing to compare with and I don’t think there’s a measuring stick. Can you measure grief in miles or pounds, let alone days?
But this fall I did know one thing: I needed to get back to my Kootenay roots where this all began.
So my friend and I took a few days and drove back into the mountains, to relive memories and perhaps discover new ones?
And this gem, hidden in BC’s south-eastern corner, up against the Rockies, opened up in all its splendour! The autumn sun shone warm and strong throughout our trip as we retraced familiar routes: the Slocan Valley Circle, our former mail delivery along Kootenay Lake (Canada Post actually paid us to travel daily along what has to be one of earth’s most beautiful drives!) and revisited our old $30 per month Blewett house with the million-dollar view of the valley below.
Not much had changed. True, my log sauna house’s roof had caved in, so it’s potential as a ‘fixer-upper’ was pretty well finished. But it seemed like the same people still frequented the same places on Baker Street; some hotels and pubs had changed their names, but The Savoy was still there: the scene of my one and only bartending stint, where I got hired and fired all in the same morning just because the redneck owner ‘don’t want your kind here!’
Memories reawakened on Nelson’s streets: There’s the corner I stood all one day, giving away the rest of the litter so I could keep one for myself: Musk, a ½ wolf, coyote, and Shepherd pup. Quite the mix!
Or that’s where I painfully sold my prized collection of LPs to get some cash, but also joyfully gave away my greatest treasure: personally autographed Roy Orbison albums to someone who said he was a true fan. My cabin didn’t have electricity, so what good was my record player any longer?
That same ‘laid-back’ peaceful atmosphere I’d cherished from many years ago still remained on the city. We could almost tangibly touch it as we looked out from the park’s central viewpoint over its homes and beyond to the distant Kokanee peaks. Those vistas seemed locked in time. Little appeared changed. Life here seemed comfortably secure in its sameness.
But I have changed. I am no longer the same. Winds have blown through and torn at my branches and it was good to rediscover that a tree’s roots survive even when its branches have been wrenched away.
But I could only stay those few days; I had to head back home.
I had hoped I might meet an old friend who’d be driving back to the Coast and want some company… but that didn’t materialize.
And then I considered the bus… but 12 hours and $100 weren’t that appealing.
I even thought of trying that cheap, reliable way of travel: hitch-hiking… but who would pick up this old guy with a suitcase?
That’s when my friend suggested RideShare. Being technologically challenged, I wasn’t even aware of this modern, glorified community hitch-hiking service, but I checked the web-site: possibility became probability and then reality when my RideShare drove up on Monday morning in not too bad a car and we started off back to Abbotsford.
Steve introduced himself: a DJ who worked the concert circuit so well he only had to work 2 or 3 days a month! I gave him the agreed $50 and climbed into the empty front seat. Steve said we still had to pick up a few other passengers – turned out he crammed 3 more into the back seat: an Aussie snow-boarder, a Montreal forest fire-fighter, plus a senorita from Barcelona. Quite the international mix! I did the math: 4 X $50 = $200! and figured out Steve was perhaps more a transportation entrepreneur than DJ artist? Not bad pay for a day’s drive, eh?
It was just like going back 40 years in time: here I was riding through the mountains in the sunshine with a bunch of young, ecology-minded back-packing long-hairs, sharing their stories with rock music blaring. The only one who seemed out of place was me, the token (not tokin’) old guy with the touristy suitcase.
How things had changed! How I had changed! How had I changed?
For one thing, I now know prayer changes things. So I prayed. And God did His thing.
A couple hours into our trip, the conversation shifted to sharing their journeys’ encounters and favourite exotic places. The Aussie told us about his adventures in Cambodia and after he’d finished, I piped up my agreement, ‘Yeah, I’ve been there too; it was great!’
Then the Quebecker recounted his travels across North Africa and, I again chimed in, ‘I found that there too!’
Then I complimented our Spanish friend on how beautiful her city was: especially its Gaudi architectural fantasies and she was so pleased she blushed with humble pride.
Steve’s curiosity got the better of him and he blurted out, ‘How’d you get to all those places?’ What do you do to get to travel to all those lands?’
‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘I became a believer here in Nelson 40 years ago and ever since I’ve been giving out good news. At last count, I’ve been to about 67 nations!’
‘Really?’ he responded with a mix of amazement and incredulity. ‘Yeah, I’m into spirituality too…’ and he then related a virtual magical metaphysical mystery tour of Bhagavad Gita, yoga, meditation and experiential relativism. I’d been there before, so I let him talk until I figured he was pretty well out of ideas.
And then I felt the Holy Spirit tug.
‘So I see you’re a truth-seeker,’ I threw out the bait.
‘For sure!’ he concurred.
‘So would you mind if I share something?’ (always best to ask permission first… creates openness)
‘Please’, he agreed.
‘Well, I am too. And in my journey I’ve discovered something really essential:
Truth is not an idea, not a theory or opinion. Truth is a Person and His Name is Jesus – the Way, the Truth and the Life!’
An immediate silence fell and filled the car. I waited for truth to sink in.
Steve swallowed hard and I saw the light come on!
‘I’ve never seen it that way before!’ he exclaimed, as if the revelation was suddenly his own.
Then he lowered his voice and confided, ‘You know, ever since ‘The Passion’ came out, I have to watch it at least once a year.’
‘Really? Once a year!’ I replied, astonished at his confession. ‘Do you know why?’
‘No, just got to!’
‘I know why!’ I offered, not even sure why or how I could be so bold to presume.
But then the answer came,
‘The Holy Spirit’s drawing you and you want to know the meaning of life’s mystery in your search.’
‘You really think so?’ Steve questioned.
‘I know so; it’s His job!’
And from that point, the entire journey changed.
Steve no longer spoke from his head, but his heart overflowed through his mouth with question after question while the other 3 sat captive to our conversation in the back seat. 4 hours passed like moments and soon we arrived home. Steve even dropped me off right at my door and thanked me for coming!
I was left marvelling at what God had just done!
It was quite evident I had not been just along for the ride.
I had been privileged to hear the heart of this generation open up, partake in its spiritual quest, and witness God once again at work: calling the hungry and thirsty to life.
And I again awoke to a fuller revelation: I’m not just a spectator in this journey, but His passenger and messenger of His Good News, amazed at how adeptly He can shine His light in the midst of darkness and confusion to reveal His incomparable love.
Makes me want to sign up for another RideShare and see what He’ll do next!

One Year Ago Today

Today marks 1 year since Erica went missing and my life changed in a moment!  

I’ve wondered: How can I best mark this time?

1) With a greater appreciation of God’s faithfulness:

I am so very thankful that we finally had closure concerning her whereabouts.
We had 88 days to endure: each day one day more than I thought I could yesterday.
Many times I felt Him ‘bearing me up on His eagle’s wings’, and I am so thankful for His Presence walking me through the pain. Truly ‘Thy rod and staff comfort(ed)  me’ and have brought me through to this day.
Our Father has given us signs following, dreams confirming, and testimonies witnessing to His glory in turning what the enemy meant for evil to good.
I know Erica loved Jesus and so she is now in heaven, at peace, rejoicing with the angels and countless others in that great cloud of witnesses, worshiping around the throne of the King of kings.
She is partaking in Christ’s Resurrection glory.
Our faith reveals she has finished her race and the torch is now passed to this generation.
Some families have not been so fortunate: they still seek some sign of their missing loved ones.
Please continue to pray for these who still seek answers to these mysterious disappearances.

 2) With still mixed emotions: 

A life journey takes twists and turns along the way and sometimes there just aren’t words to describe what’s perceived or truly going on.
I am sorry you haven’t heard much from me during these last months: words have felt insufficient.
During those 88 days when she was missing, I often posted my thoughts and feelings. In the midst of all the confusion, when everything seemed to make no sense, I sought God-sense to clarify the non-sense.
I had to literally put my emotions down in words, sort them through, sift out the negatives and hold fast the truth.
It was virtually therapeutic for my sanity and well-being.
I tried to rein in my emotions, align them with God’s Spirit + Word, mount up with both wings.
How else could I keep on going?
Even when I didn’t feel like it, I felt I needed to be simultaneously honest, transparent and faithful to God and those of  you with us.
David provided my role model here: his psalms gave me faith and guidelines of trust and God’s abiding Presence, even in the darkest times. He wrote most of his psalms in times of crises: whether chased by enemies or betrayed by ‘friends’, and I related to him and drew strength from his new songs. The words were already in the Bible and  the Holy Spirit gave me His melody, so I found His songs here in my heart, on my lips, washing, sustaining, infusing me with life when all hope seemed gone and me empty.
 ‘Deep calls unto deep at the noise of  Your waterfalls;  All your waves and billows have gone over me.
   The LORD will command His lovingkindness in the daytime,
   And in the night His song shall be with me –
   A prayer to the God of my life.
   Why are you cast down, O my soul?
   And why are you disquieted within me?
    Hope in God;
    For I shall yet praise Him,
    The help of my countenance and my God.’  Ps 42: 8, 11

I felt compelled to share these times with you, even though it was confusing, painful, and traumatic.

We had no choice: we’d all been drawn into this vortex together, caught up in this maelstrom, this search and then loss, and we had to keep walking through the waters.
With Erica’s discovery and funeral, I truly cherished your many prayers notes of encouragement and acts of love and kindness.
Thank you!
Some of you even took time to be in my company when I wasn’t very good company to be in.
You showed me your care and love, sat on my couch as I wept and didn’t say a word. You just felt my pain and helped carry me through those darkest times when I felt alone, abandoned, with little hope left.
You did not abandon me, but came alongside and have walked with me through this wilderness.
The Body of Christ is truly a healing body!

 3) With a thankful heart:

Am I through yet? Hard to tell; I haven’t found a scale to clearly measure this yet.  
How do you know when you’re healed?  I guess when it doesn’t hurt anymore… and that’s still in process.
But through the grace of God and your love and encouragement,  my family and I have come through many waters so far, been lifted up when we felt our faith failing, and look upward and forward to  the One who continues to be here for us: Jesus, our Way, Truth and Life.

Thank You!

It was 40 years ago today

Labour Day 40 years ago this once-young hippie wannabe truth-seeker came to the end of his hope, rope + himself + found a new way, truth and life. Been tested again and again, especially enduring these last 11 months, but He is faithful. If you're a seeker, please join me to revisit that day a long generation ago, but still fresh as today:
Labour Day fell on September 2 in 1974. It dawned sunny + bright in the Kootenays; days were still hot like summer, but a hint of autumn harvest-time was already in the air and God was really working. This was no day of rest for Him, His Spirit was working -- overtime!
Early that afternoon I drove out to Harmony Gates, a commune in the Slocan where my friend Grizzle lived, and found her in the garden, pulling up brussel sprouts. I'd attended a Divine Light Mission (DLM) ashram meeting the evening before and I needed to know more about this ‘knowledge’ that the Guru Maharji, the purported 'Perfect Master' was offering to whomever he chose to give it. I hoped that perhaps this was that illusory first brick I'd been searching for in my quest for a foundation of my tower of truth.
She hesitated at first, but I pressed her and finally she relented and told me her story:
A couple years before, in California, one of her friends had wanted to become an initiate with the DLM – a ‘premie’. Not wanting to go alone, he had asked her to come her, so she'd accompanied him.
In a morning session, one of the mahatmas presented DLM’s basic teachings and gave out free admission tickets to a further evening initiation session. However, there were only a limited number and he arbitrarily gave to some while overlooking others. At one point, he looked at Grizzle and asked her who she was and why she was there. She told him she was a born-again Christian and was only there for her friend. He then actually reached over other outstretched hands pleading for the few remaining tickets and handed the last two to Grizzle and her friend!
When those with tickets returned in the evening, the same mahatma asked if anyone had questions.
Grizzle spoke up: ‘What will happen to me when I die?’
She kind of apologized for his response while recounting her story. ‘I don’t know what everybody else saw or heard, but he cupped his hand over the side of his face, looked right at me, gave a twisted smile and laughed diabolically, ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m going straight to hell!’
Immediately a few of the attendees excused themselves from further involvement in the meeting. Perhaps they had ears to hear + eyes to see?
Grizzle and her friend remained. The mahatma then proceeded by outlining DLM’s 3 steps:
1st: he instructed each of the premies-to-be to hold their eyes shut and press their fingers firmly against their eyelids, pressing them so tightly they could see nothing, no light at all, so everything in their vision was so dark that suddenly they would see the 'Divine Light', a supernatural spiritual light which would enlighten their heart + mind. As he led them, he also circulated among them and questioned their experiences: the light, their enthusiasm and response to the energy they received! When he felt satisfied with their progress, he continued to the
2nd: now he told his audience to hold their ears shut, as they'd done with their eyes; so shut they could hear nothing, no sound at all, so everything in their hearing was so silent that suddenly they would hear the 'Celestial Music',
a supernatural heavenly sound that would fill them with pure spirit. He again followed this step by mingling among them, further noting their experiences. When he came to Grizzle, the sensations she described amazed him, but she didn’t tell him she was already familiar with Hindu techniques and was simply telling him what he wanted to hear.
Then the final step:
3rd: the revelation of the mantra. In other Hindu teachings, Grizzle said the mantra had been the generic name of God: OM; but this time, DLM had merely reversed the order of the letters to: MO!
So here were these precious human souls being led astray as dumb sheep by some charismatic figure and charlatan system, obeying what they neither knew nor understood. But with these 3 steps, he assured them they now had the ‘perfect knowledge’ and would proceed to ever greater enlightenment as they pursued this path.
Grizzle ended her story: the truth came on and my light and hope went out!
My hope had been exposed as a massive sham, a religious fraud, a hoax, a deception! I saw it clearly; she didn’t have to tell me anymore. I felt like one of her uprooted brussel sprouts and there I hung in mid-air, just like them: suspended, upside down, rootless, with no ground for any more questions.
She let me dangle there for a while. I don’t know how long, but it felt like an eternity. And then I felt something else well up inside me: disappointment, confusion, anger!
Not normal emotional anger; I was silently raging, furious at this masquerade unmasked, myself for being so gullible and, because I had to take it out on somebody, Grizzle:
‘How dare she destroy my last desperate gasp for truth? You knew I needed this knowledge and now you’ve debunked it for the sham it is. You heartless creature! How could you do this to me?’
Waves of frustration crashed against my ego.
Mercifully, Grizzle finally broke the awful silence of the moment, ‘Come with me. I’ve got something for you!’ and she headed towards her simple A-frame cabin a short distance away.
I didn’t have much fight left in me, so I obediently followed, not even considering what that cabin might hold.
We entered.
Her furnishings were quite bare. Another woman from the farm was there, but without any introductions, Grizzle just pointed me to the centre of the room: a lone table with nothing on it except a Bible. Closed.
‘Pick it up and read,’ she directed, calmly.
'Where should I start?' I replied, emptily.
But my real feelings absolutely churned and seethed inside me. My anger was primed to boil over and all manner of sarcastic comments were writhing and readying themselves to attack from within my embittered soul.
‘In the beginning,’ she countered.
That did it! ‘In the beginning?’ my inner voice protested. ‘I know all about ‘In the beginning’. I’m at the crisis-point of my life and you’re directing me to Sunday-School stories I know from way back in my past that have nothing to do with what I need now!’
I heard my own soul cry out, inaudible to both Grizzle and her friend. I kicked and wrestled, but finally yielded.
‘Oh, why not?’ I whimpered and started to read out loud.
And I read… through the first pages of Genesis 1 + 2. I read of creation: heaven, earth, animals, Adam + Eve, convinced I knew it all from before.
Until I came to Genesis 2:9 –
‘And out of the ground the LORD God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.
The tree of life was also in the midst of the garden and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.’
Suddenly 2 things stood out remarkably that maybe I didn’t know?
1st: there were 2 trees in the garden. One was the tree of life which was in the garden's centre; and the other?
2nd: the tree of ‘knowledge’.
That word again!? What I'd hoped would be the missing brick in my tower now hit me like a ton of bricks…
right between my eyes! I can’t remember all my thought process at that point, but I suddenly became aware of something new and different here, not what I’d expected: that second tree, the one I was seeking, hadn't it been the source of all man's problems, indeed the world’s?
Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t know everything? Maybe I needed to read on.
And so I did. I read on into Chapter 3.
I’m going to paraphrase this next part, because from my hippie perspective, this is how it spoke to me:
The serpent shows up at this point and even I knew that was the devil, the bad guy. He gets Eve off alone and says,
‘Hey Eve! Nice digs you got here! Man, this is beautiful! You must have everything you need!’
‘Oh yes,’ she responds, ‘Everything! Isn’t life wonderful!’
The serpent slithers + twists her words from an exclamation to a question, and seizes on,
‘Everything? Isn’t there one thing you’re missing? C'mon, there must be one thing, something you can’t do?'
‘Well, there is one thing...’ and she turns her attention from the centre tree to the other. ‘but just one thing:
God says if we eat or touch that tree over there, we’ll die!’
‘Really?’ the snake drools as she takes the bait.
‘Die? What’s ‘die’? Nobody’s ever died before; what do you mean ‘die’?
Don’t you know the real reason He doesn’t want you to eat from that tree? He knows that if you do, you’ll be just
like him; you’ll be a god yourself + then you won’t need him to tell you what you can or cannot do anymore.
I mean, c’mon Eve: look at that tree over there,’ he turned and distracted her focus from life to knowledge,
‘It looks so good. Really, can anything that looks so good be bad for you?'
And then he sealed the deal with the hippie cliché: ‘Ah, if it feels good, do it!’
I read her response: Genesis 3:6
‘So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.’
And then I stopped.
Suddenly I had no breath to read any further. Any attempts to read on for further knowledge were frustrated.
Visions of uprooted brussel sprouts filled my mind again.
I read this verse and I died.
It was like I somehow saw that I’d been eating from that tree all my life and its fruit was death and its root was death and I was dead also. Another awkward eternity of silence followed.
And then something totally inexplicable began to happen. It was as if some unknown hand wielding a giant corkscrew began drilling through the soles of my feet, draining my life away. Emptiness and numbness followed and I struggled to maintain my balance. I leaned against that lonely table, which now seemed to be the only thing holding me up in this life.
I tried to speak, but no words came; both my mouth and mind were empty.
I braced myself to maintain my composure, but I really had none left.
I stood there... emptying. Time seemed endless as I hung between two worlds.
With no more capacity for anger, I felt suspended in an unfamiliar realm.
Life passed in a moment; events that had taken years now transpired in a mere breath.
Finally, I gathered enough strength and excused myself. For what I didn’t know, but I made an excuse:
I needed to go and tell another couple of Grizzle’s friends that I would house-sit their goat farm for the next week. So I somehow managed to gather my thoughts, thanked the women for their time and without acknowledging what was really happening inside, I walked out unsteadily, got in my car and drove 3 miles down the road to the neighbour’s farm.
All the while my inside was draining away!
I got to the farm, but no one was home. The house was empty; so were the barns. But I saw a pathway opposite the house heading up a hill through some trees. I knew it led to another neighbour’s farm and wondered if maybe they were visiting next door and I could find them there.
Never having gone that way before, I thought, ‘Why not?’ so I started uphill through the forest.
My life was still draining and it was cooler in the shade.
I remember thinking, ‘When will this stop? This is weirder than any drug I’ve ever experienced before! What is happening to me?’
And so my life continued to drain away until…
I came to the edge of the woods. It opened up to a meadow, a good-sized hayfield and exactly when I stepped out of the shadows and into the open, the emptying gave way to a wave of sunlight and power like I’d never known.
It hit me like a tsunami, rushed through me from head to toe, then reversed itself from my toes and exploded through me in a crescendo of life! Like someone set off a whole fireworks display at one moment in me!
Whoossh!
Like a bolt of electricity it ran through me, picked me up and propelled me out into the field. The hayfield became my dance floor and I was running, jumping, doing somersaults and cartwheels like a kid, shouting at the top of my lungs, singing and babbling with funny, incomprehensible words spilling out of my mouth!
No one had told me about tongues before, but I guess that’s what it was: unknown tongues were overflowing like rivers of living water from within me! What had been dry + empty only moments before was now full + more!
If anyone had seen me rolling around out there, I’m sure they would have thought I'd finally lost it: too much acid or one too many tokes. I even tried to stop and pinch myself to come back to reality, but life prevailed over reason, and I dismissed that action. This joy was better than anything I’d ever experienced before, so why stop and go back to the old misery?
However, after another eternity, somehow I was experiencing timelessness in one day on both sides of the equation, I finally got it together enough to walk back down to my friends’ farm. They still weren’t home, but it dawned on me where they were: today was a holiday, the hippie community in the valley was opening a new community centre at Vallican, so everyone would be at the big party!
I got in my car and drove: 30 miles in 45 minutes and all that time, the flood waters inside me kept rising and spilling over the banks of my soul. But these songs were not earthly; the language was heavenly and I was revelling in the overflow! I was so full I felt I was absolutely bursting! 45 minutes of something singing unknown words through me! Something was happening in me, but I really didn’t have a clue?
Until I got to Vallican and saw the friends I was looking for.
But I saw another person first: my traveling buddy, Bob. He should have been 30 miles away in the other direction, but there he was: the very one with whom I'd shared so much of my personal journey for truth thus far: through school, drugs, booze, backpacking and whatever, and now here he was in front of me and I heard a voice inside me say, ‘Go tell him what’s happened!’
Again my self protested, ‘But I don’t know what’s happened and I have no idea what to tell him!’
But simple obedience won out and in a moment I found myself standing before him. Without any premeditation, both my arms went up in the air spontaneously and these words gushed out:
‘Bob, Bob! I’ve given up the pursuit of knowledge and I’ve found the love of our Lord Jesus Christ!’
He looked at me, amazed! In all my previous wildest discoveries, I’d never come up with something like this before.
He heard my words and said, ‘What?’
But I heard my words and said, ‘That’s it!’
And just like that I sat him down in the field, right in the confusing midst of 3 loud hippie bands playing, and preached Christ to him.
I really had no idea what I was saying; but life bypassed my mind and words flowed from my heart like a torrent, a river that could not and would not be stopped.
We had both been made for this moment and truth prevailed.
I talked for what must have been a whole hour. I think he had questions in between, but nothing could stop the flow of what I now knew to be God’s Word + Spirit in me. I had both wings and I was flying and nothing could hold back the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Somehow I knew now that truth was not a thesis, doctrine, or intellectual explanation of reality.
Truth is a Person, the very relationship and life-giving intimacy between Jesus Christ and our Father God which He’s given us in His New Covenant. This Truth was happening and this Truth became real to me at that moment.
Bob didn’t get saved that day. But he really didn’t have a chance: within a couple years, he too gave his heart to Jesus and is now a missionary in Guatemala.
I didn’t want to go to sleep that night. What if I woke up the next morning and this experience proved to just be another illusory feeling and was gone?
But I did get to sleep and when I awoke, that same joy was there, has always been and will always be.
God doesn’t change.
That was 40 years ago and Jesus’ Truth shines brighter each and every new day!

Poochie

Just can’t not tell you about an amazing  resolution to a very distressing problem yesterday! 
The family who was just vacating a campsite we were moving into mistakenly locked the keys inside their van, so they couldn't leave.
Not really a big problem, right?
However, the plot thickened: they had no 2nd set of keys, we were 30 miles from any garage/tow truck help, no cell phone service in this remote area to even call anyone anyways, windows were closed tight on a hot summer day,  2 dogs inside. But the clincher: the couple’s baby was tightly strapped in his car-seat - also inside!
When my friend + I arrived on the scene, they had exhausted virtually every means they could think of: their vehicle was new, made secure against any illegal entry and  it had successfully withstood their every attack.
We joined forces with them, but it stood, a formidable fortress against our every strategy to breach its security. We hammered on the doors, tried forcing wires through cracks between windows and doors… but no cracks! 
The husband/father finally ran off to find a Park Ranger or anyone able to help, while we two stayed with the wife/mom. Through it all, the one dog sat calmly in the back seat beside the little boy, but two strangers suddenly poking around his castle for vulnerable invasion points really provoked the other doggie. ‘Poochie’s protection instincts kicked into full onslaught mode and he aggressively reacted to our every effort. Snarling, jumping almost maniacally up against the passenger door window, pressing his face and drooling mouth right against ours on the same window pane we were desperately trying to break through. Everything in him worked to repel us Aliens! The more we tried, the fiercer he grew. He was only terrier-sized, but the closer we pressed against the glass, the bigger his bark, growl and bared teeth appeared. He was determined: we were not invading his space!
And then the baby started crying! We wondered how long he and the dogs could last in such a tight, enclosed space with no fresh air on such a hot day?  Mom tried to reassure her baby, but all the shouting and barking only heightened the tension!
Then Mom had an idea: why not use this problem ‘Poochie’ to hopefully bring about the solution? He was jumping up and down against the window, just inches away from the lock switch, so our strategy became: get Poochie so worked up that his repeated jumping would land his angry paw just one time on that inside switch, click the lock and open the door!
We put our plan into action. Mom, who was South African, tried to coax him toward the switch, urging him on in Afrikaans while simultaneously trying to calm her baby.  My friend + I egged him on in English.
We didn’t know how much time we had; breaking a window appeared more and more a necessary possibility?
But Poochie’s every leap up came down short; only the intensity of  his anger grew closer as I could feel the heat of his breath increase through the window! We kept up our attack; our desperation heightened.
What would happen?
Somehow I felt this was going to end well: the Lord was fixing to do something + He did!
We split up our attack. My friend diverted Poochie’s attention to the driver’s side of the van and this proved to be a welcome distraction. He followed him over, barking all the while. But the change threw him off balance just enough so that he tripped on the steering wheel + stumbled + fell …
right onto the panel’s switch!
I heard a ‘Click!’, cried out an automatic  ‘Yes!’, pulled on the door handle before he could undo what he just did. And it opened!
Mom was ecstatic! She reached in, grabbed Poochie up in her arms so he wouldn’t chew my friend to pieces, all while reaching for her little boy and holding him close at the same time. She had been the one who’d inadvertently locked the keys inside in the first place. Relief and thanksgiving simultaneously so overwhelmed her, she started thanking Poochie + us in Afrikaans!
Only a brief few minutes, but an experience for a lifetime.
I don’t think Poochie realized all that he had  done for his family that day. His left paw didn’t know what his right paw was doing. But it was led by the Spirit and that was enough to open the once-locked door.
I left, thanking Father and searching further for the dad. He needed to know all this too had been worked together for good.