An Open Letter to My Wayward Child :: By Jim Towers 

My Dear child,

I did everything I could as a parent to let you know how much I love you and care about your wellbeing – yet today you treat me like a stranger. I know things weren’t always perfect, and I might have been a better parent. I might add – that you never saw me use drugs, strong drink or even use vulgarity. On top of that, I was an even-tempered person given to good works – as you well know. Where did I go wrong?

There was a time (as a baby) when you had reoccurring colic, and I would get up in the middle of the night to take you for a ride in our car, along with your puppy dog. We would park on the bluff overlooking the bay with the full moon overhead, listening to love songs on the radio. Soon the music would lull you back to sleep and we headed back home in the dark.

At three we went riding together on my bike, just you and me; I even made you a little seat so you could ride in front of me. We sang songs like “Chiquitita” by Abba while we rode together. Do you remember the red fire truck bed I made for you? The one in which you slept as a toddler with your puppy “Cotton” curled up at your feet.

We bought you a piano that you’d play all the time – even in the early morning while still in your little white underwear. You had a piano recital at the age of four. The tune was “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” I was excited and clapped until my hands hurt. You and my other children were my delight and reason for being.

You were growing up fast. I taught you the important things in life like fishing and baseball and climbing in trees. As a child we took you to church; you even learned Bible verses and won some awards. But life’s demands and distractions led your mom and I to divorce. Irreconcilable differences was the Christian marriage counselor’s decree after several sessions, and so your mother divorced me.

The breakup couldn’t keep me away. I’d visit you daily and wrestle and play. I’d take you to school sometimes on my back – just for fun. Sometimes we’d skip along or run, and we always found time for fun. Remember the time you hunted for treasure from an old map I found? Well, it was me who created that pirate map when you weren’t around. Then there was the time when a white dove mysteriously landed at your feet, and you tried to catch it to see if it was hurt. The bird recovered and eventually flew away… it seems like yesterday. Then there was the time you fell from the tree house that I built in the mango tree alongside the house, not to speak of the initial adverse reaction you had from that very same tree.

As time wore on, I taught you to swim. You grew fearless in water and took to it like a duck…No, make that a fish; soon you could swim even better than your dad. We’d snorkel around the rocks in a cove by the bay. I gave the round outcroppings names like the “turtles” and “hippos” where we’d often spend the day. The water was shallow and clear with minnows and colorful fish and various things like sea shells to add to our collection. We even had a saltwater tank with all kinds of creatures. Do you remember that?

We and your younger brother would sit on the swings in the park in the evening, singing songs and drinking soda. We’d go to the movies – “Gandhi” was one of the first; then came “Rocky” 2, 3, and four.” What a great time we had! I couldn’t want for more.

You boys took up surfing, and I would watch from the beach, holding my breath as you swam out into the deep. There was the time on your very first job as a teen as a bagboy at the local supermarket, but soon you heard the call “surfs up” and headed for the beach. That job didn’t last long. I never said anything because I have that same propensity.

You were growing up fast, and soon you were working at the framing store with a pressed white shirt and tie. You were the best they ever had with artistic talent and clear discerning eyes. You even began painting pictures yourself. That’s when I noticed that you had a creative mind, and I knew that you could achieve anything your heart desired. You had a sharp, creative and quick mind.

Soon you were off to college in a school up north with an art scholarship at a prestigious school. During spring break, you and I would travel about exploring this hemisphere. I remember the Jaguar jungle trip where you killed a big poisonous snake that stood defiantly in our path ready to strike. One baseball- sized rock and your perfect aim was all it took for you to put him away.

Remember Honduras and the tiny island in the sea where we fished while a huge crocodile –that I thought was a log – swam just feet away from us as we fished in the surf. Man, did we have adventure!

As time went on, you continued to grow; and like it or not, we had some of the very same traits. Then something happened after four years at university. I held my breath and prayed every day you were away. You became cynical about your faith and gradually let it slip away. You knew right from wrong, but life and (I suspect) your professors turned your head; and now you know more about life than your very experienced father. You were a scholar.

Now, twenty-some years later, I have a grandson with a shock of blond hair and clear blue eyes. You drifted from your childhood faith even as I continued to grow in mine. When we are together and taking a meal, I say grace, and you and yours only sit there with a blank look on your faces. As if that weren’t enough, my young grandson says that God and the Bible aren’t true at the dinner table. At seven years old he knows everything – much like you. Please don’t let him forfeit the endless benefits of knowing Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father.

I’m hoping God will quicken your mind because I don’t want to be raptured and have to leave you behind. It breaks my heart to see you uptight with angst and guilt while I get a good night’s sleep each and every night – with a clear conscience toward God.

Please repent and seek God in the face of Christ Jesus, while He may yet be found.

Love Dad.

Cunning As Serpents :: By Jim Towers

Jesus told us to be cunning as serpents and harmless as doves.

With the word of God being ignored and replaced with man’s vain imaginings, idol worship and desiring to have our own way, they are prone to become bipolar, severely depressed and/or altogether deranged, as this young man in New Zealand apparently was.

Thus, in light of the Christchurch slaughter, we find ourselves facing a dilemma. Islamic worshipers were attacked by a lone gunman – as far as we know. Although his motives weren’t clear, he was obviously deranged, as are many in today’s world. All too many have an agenda bent on destruction, and they can no longer control the satanic impulses that compel them to do evil. Such is the case with Jihadists. Albeit, we Christians who have the Holy Spirit abiding in us should have a degree of self-control.

(Not all Muslims are terrorists but their theology commands that they hate Christians and Jews, whom they consider infidels. Many Muslims, like Christians and Jews, do not practice their faith even though they call themselves so. They are Muslims, Christians and Jews in name only).

So how then do we respond to those with whom we have issues, those who would harm and kill us? It isn’t easy, since our first instinct would be to retaliate in kind; nevertheless, God says to love our enemies. As hard as it sometimes is, we are to emanate Christ in our lives, and be peace-loving and forgiving individuals – it is not an easy thing to do.

We condemn the actions of others, and sometimes justifiably so. We sometimes have hard choices to make; but speaking for myself, I wouldn’t think twice in protecting my family members and friends by whatever means possible. This for me is permissible since king David, a man after God’s own heart, was a warrior.

While passing judgment on others, let’s not forget that we were at one time an enemy of God ourselves, which brings to mind the next little story.

I recently asked God to let me be in His will throughout the day as I awakened. Little did I know to what extent He would use me.

I go to a local park where once a month they have a “yard sale” where people in the community can come to sell discarded items and such. Since I enjoy encountering people to share my faith with and pray for, I look forward to that event.

Jehovah’s Witnesses have set up a tent there to promote their errant man-made theology, and it was grating on me to do something to counter them. Accordingly, I set up a ten-by-ten-foot tent and posted big signs that said “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest – Jesus,” and another that said “Jesus said, I am the way the truth and the life; no man comes to the Father but by me.” Sure enough, one of the Jehovah’s Witnesses came over to investigate.

Being too busy to talk to him (because I was witnessing to a young homosexual), he only read the signs, and I saw him slither way out of the corner of my eye. Thus, I was confronting evil on two fronts as I let God do the discerning and judging, knowing I was doing the right thing.

Surprisingly, the young man revealed that another young man at the sale was also a homosexual. The two were friends.

Since I had dealt with homosexuals in the past, I did the best I could (in a loving way) to share the Gospel with the one while the other one wanted nothing to do with me.

Using scripture, I solemnly revealed that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness – me included. I spoke of repentance and faith. When the young man said he was a Catholic, I cautioned him to read the King James version since the Douay Rheims and the Catholics’ other booklets were faulty. I also let him know that Muslims also use prayer beads much like the rosary. He in turn told me he was appalled by the pedophilia taking place in the church by the priests!

We talked intensely for about an hour as the time flew by, and we finally had to go our separate ways. But before I left, I asked if I could pray for him, asking God to open the young man’s eyes in seeking God’s face. He acquiesced, and I said the prayer for him right out there in the open – for which he thanked me. And then I left, but not before giving him my card. The young man (E.) mailed me that night to let me know he was going to find a Bible.

What a day, and all because I asked God to use me that morning to His glory. That divine appointment made my day.

Movie and book critique

The movie “Evidence for Exodus” was for me entertaining since I love archaeology; but as for helping us Christians in our present situation, it was lacking in substance. Incidentally, one of my favorite books on that subject was “The Gold of Exodus” written several years ago which was more thorough and compelling. You can find it at your local library.

Note:

Tune in for excellent Bible-based sermons live streaming at FBCN on the internet by Pastor Hayes Wicker on Sundays at 9:30 EST.

YBIC

Jim Towers

You can write me at – jt.filmmaker@yahoo.com or www.thepropheciesmovie.com and read other my essays on www.dropzonedelta.org