Faith.
I have been searching this out in my heart lately.
"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." "Come", Jesus said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" (Matthew 14:28-31)
I have to admit, I am more of a "wind and the waves" person than a powerful man of faith.
Peter said "Lord if it's you," seems in times of wind and waves I have a hard time seeing Jesus.
Peter did. If we are all honest we all do at some time.
Caught in the eye of the storm everything looks a little more scary.
But still Jesus says "Come", get out of that boat and get out on the water. I want your faith.
Notice that Peter asks to come out of the boat first. He knows he wants to be with Jesus, he knows that Jesus is his only hope in the storm. He wants to be where Jesus is. But when he sees the wind he sinks.
How often do we ask Jesus that we want to be closer to Him, that we want to experience more of God and the Holy Spirit in our lives and then when He calls us out of our boats of safety we cry out in fear and start to sink.
I do. I cry out to God to know Him more, to experience Him deeper, and then when He starts trimming off the dead branches of my faith, and starts to test me I cry out "why is this happening to me?"
Yup, I am sheep.
I may be intellectually smart. I have even been to Bible College, I know about God. But when it comes to faith I am dumb like a sheep. Seems it is like faith short term memory loss.
I have it. And so did the Israelites.
No sooner did they get released from captivity for some bonehead sin as a nation, then they would get back into the same mess and away they went back into captivity again. Only football has more turnarounds than Israel did.
They were sheep too. I am in good company.
Moses was a sheep. At the burning bush he argued with God that He had the wrong guy. I st-st-stutter Moses said. God said thats ok. Still going to use you.
David was a sheep. Killed a man, took his wife. Yikes. Big screw up. In the running for head sheep. But a man after God's own heart.
Noah was a sheep. Build an ark in the middle of a desert. Man he must of thought he was nuts some days. But he built it anyways and mankind was saved.
Elijah was a sheep. He had just seen God send fire from Heaven and he had just killed all of Jezebel's false prophets. And there he was hiding in a cave. But God used that man to turn a nation around.
Yup all sheep. But God used them.
They didnt have the Bible on tape, the Torah on their Palm Pilot, or even a Messiah that had shown up yet.
But they had faith.
When everything was flying around them, when they were in the midst of the wind and the waves, they knew exactly who to cry out to.
They knew who to go to fix the mess they were in.
Like Jesus, God must of shook his head and asked where their faith was. Silly Sheep.
We know who to go to, we know where God is, we know where He wants us to be. There is a Reason Jesus is called the Good Shepherd.
Why do we struggle with staying there? Why can't we stay focused on Jesus? What is it with the wind and the waves that distracts us from our faith?
Mabey that is the point. "In our weakness is His strength."
God is teaching us day by day, knocking out from underneath of us any and all things that we lean on instead of Him, leading, guiding and correcting us. Shepherding us.
Every time He knocks another crutch out from underneath us, we protest "Hey! I was using that!"
But He quietly and gently, and lovingly whispers in our ears "Yes, now lean on me"
What are my crutches? Do I lean on money? A job? My intellect? My friends? My church? My family?
Or do I lean on the one who flung the stars into place, who calls me by name, who knit me in my mother's womb, who knows every hair on my head and who holds me in the palm of His hand?
The same God who holds the keys to death and hades, who is forever without end, who never fails and who loved me enough to die for me is the same still small voice who called Peter that night to come onto the waves and who calls me to believe and not doubt, who when I do immediately reaches out with His nail scarred hands to catch me.
This is the same God who calls Himself Yahweh-Jireh(Our Provider), Jehovah Raffi(Our Healer), Yahweh-Rohi (Our Shepherd), Yahweh-Shalom(Our Peace), Yahweh-Shammah(God is There) and El-Roi "God who Sees me" or "God of Vision" (Gen. 16:13). The God sees needs of His people and responds.
Now that is a God I can have faith in.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
I am not much of a writer
I am not much of a writer.
In fact, I don't write much at all. I find it difficult to express myself in the physical written word.
I am still in fact, trying to figure out how to approach this whole blogging thing.
Do I use humourous euphemisms to present my life to the world? Should I be straight laced and serious only pausing to punctuate my verbage with antecedent colloquialisms? Am I to be real and transparent or peer under the cover of anonimity and toss out verbal grenades?
I really do want to be real in my heart of hearts, but fear of knowing oneself, or even more terrifying letting others know me permeates my writing.
Share my testimony? Yes. I can do that. Share my feelings? I am not as certain. That leaves me to be vulnerable. Vulnerability now that is a subject isn't it?
Vulnerability. Lowering our shields just enough to let others in. Giving others access to ourselves, our heart of hearts, letting ourselves exchange love and compassion in order to recieve love and compassion and any with that the ability to be hurt by those we open ourselves to.
Choices. Well we can become a hardened bunker and not let anything in. Sitting in our bunkers we can peer out at the world but not interact with it. A lonely pointless existance to say the least.
No passion, no love, no interaction with life. No interaction with God probably. No interaction with people most likely.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." --From Macbeth (V, v, 19)
Choices. We can let ourselves be vulnerable and let others (and God) in. Trusting. owch. But isn't that how Love works? We trust others not to hurt us when we give them our most valuable possessions. Our heart. Our trust. Our faith.
Can we trust God. Well sure. Can we trust another person. Ah there's the rub.
37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Matthew 22 37-39
Be Real. That is the challenge. Anyone can be plastic. Anyone can be pretentious and superficial. Most people are experts at this craft. "How are you doing today?" "Fine" Keep on walking. We seem amazed and even sometimes a little "put out" when someone ACTUALLY tells us how they are really doing. "Hey you can't do that" you are responding outside of my superficiality. I am just ASKING how you are doing. I don't REALLY want an answer you know.
I am guilty of this. I am also guilty of not telling people how I am really doing. I have a friend who asks me how I am doing every time we get together. He keeps hoping I will honestly say "Excellent" "Awesome" "If I were doing any better I would be twins" (ok mabey not the last one) but ANYTHING but "fine" "good" "hanging in there" though more realistic and honest answers than saying I am doing good when I am not really, they keep the shields up don't they?
How does this relate to blogging? Being real. Larry Norman says that his most heartfelt desire is that his "performances" playing music from his heart would be real. Not performed, but shared. Performance at its heart is plastic-y if there is indeed a word like that. The desire to be real. That is my heartcry. I am tired of "fake" people. I am tired of being "fake" I want realness. In realness is truth.
Mabey that is what this whole blogging thing is right? People in search of realness and truth reading about people sharing realness and truth. Seems there is such a shortage of this in the world that mabey blogging is an avenue for that. To see that our lives are mabey not as bad or better than others. To get inspiration and motivation from other people's experience.
My journey continues...
In fact, I don't write much at all. I find it difficult to express myself in the physical written word.
I am still in fact, trying to figure out how to approach this whole blogging thing.
Do I use humourous euphemisms to present my life to the world? Should I be straight laced and serious only pausing to punctuate my verbage with antecedent colloquialisms? Am I to be real and transparent or peer under the cover of anonimity and toss out verbal grenades?
I really do want to be real in my heart of hearts, but fear of knowing oneself, or even more terrifying letting others know me permeates my writing.
Share my testimony? Yes. I can do that. Share my feelings? I am not as certain. That leaves me to be vulnerable. Vulnerability now that is a subject isn't it?
Vulnerability. Lowering our shields just enough to let others in. Giving others access to ourselves, our heart of hearts, letting ourselves exchange love and compassion in order to recieve love and compassion and any with that the ability to be hurt by those we open ourselves to.
Choices. Well we can become a hardened bunker and not let anything in. Sitting in our bunkers we can peer out at the world but not interact with it. A lonely pointless existance to say the least.
No passion, no love, no interaction with life. No interaction with God probably. No interaction with people most likely.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." --From Macbeth (V, v, 19)
Choices. We can let ourselves be vulnerable and let others (and God) in. Trusting. owch. But isn't that how Love works? We trust others not to hurt us when we give them our most valuable possessions. Our heart. Our trust. Our faith.
Can we trust God. Well sure. Can we trust another person. Ah there's the rub.
37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. Matthew 22 37-39
Be Real. That is the challenge. Anyone can be plastic. Anyone can be pretentious and superficial. Most people are experts at this craft. "How are you doing today?" "Fine" Keep on walking. We seem amazed and even sometimes a little "put out" when someone ACTUALLY tells us how they are really doing. "Hey you can't do that" you are responding outside of my superficiality. I am just ASKING how you are doing. I don't REALLY want an answer you know.
I am guilty of this. I am also guilty of not telling people how I am really doing. I have a friend who asks me how I am doing every time we get together. He keeps hoping I will honestly say "Excellent" "Awesome" "If I were doing any better I would be twins" (ok mabey not the last one) but ANYTHING but "fine" "good" "hanging in there" though more realistic and honest answers than saying I am doing good when I am not really, they keep the shields up don't they?
How does this relate to blogging? Being real. Larry Norman says that his most heartfelt desire is that his "performances" playing music from his heart would be real. Not performed, but shared. Performance at its heart is plastic-y if there is indeed a word like that. The desire to be real. That is my heartcry. I am tired of "fake" people. I am tired of being "fake" I want realness. In realness is truth.
Mabey that is what this whole blogging thing is right? People in search of realness and truth reading about people sharing realness and truth. Seems there is such a shortage of this in the world that mabey blogging is an avenue for that. To see that our lives are mabey not as bad or better than others. To get inspiration and motivation from other people's experience.
My journey continues...
Perceptual Reality - Roy Williams
Earth's population reached 1 billion persons in 1804, 2 billion in 1927, 3 billion in ‘59, 4 billion in ‘74 and 5 billion in late ‘86. And on October 12th, 1999, Earth's population surpassed 6 billion.The number of passengers on Spaceship Earth has doubled (from 3 billion – 1959, to 6 billion – 1999,) in 40 short years.
At the beginning of a philosophy class a professor stated "Each of you will sit in this room for 3 days and hear the same information presented in precisely the same way. But you'll leave here having had an entirely different experience from the persons on your left and your right. You will connect different dots, have different epiphanies, make different associations. Objective reality will be the same for each of you. But your perceptual realities will be yours alone."
There are 525,948.766 minutes in a year. This means that each minute, the 6 billion of us experience a collective 11,408 years of perceptual reality. And each day we live a collective 16,427,455 years. *Check math below...
Given that we lived nearly sixteen and a half million years yesterday, it seems like one of us would've figured out how to end poverty, crime and war, doesn't it? (Personally, I was really busy, so I was counting on you.)
Perceptual reality is yours alone.
Every door of opportunity begins as a window in your mind.
Look through that window of imagination and glimpse a world that could be, someday. Keep looking… Be patient… And watch it grow into a door of Opportunity through which you might pass into an entirely different future.
Opportunity never knocks. But it hangs thick in the air all around you. You breathe it unthinking, and dissipate it with your sighs.
Opportunity never knocks. It appears, flickering, like faulty neon at a nondescript fork in the road.Opportunity never knocks. It whispers, a tickle in your distracted mind.
So what are you going to do? Will you sleep, unaware of the miracles that need your assistance, or will you open your eyes, look through that window, and begin doing what only you can do?
Roy H. Williams
*6,000,000,000 (persons in the world) divided by 525,948.766 (minutes in a year) = 11,407.9553 years of perceptual reality experienced each minute, x 1,440 (minutes in a day) = 16,427,455.6 (years of perceptual reality in a day.)
At the beginning of a philosophy class a professor stated "Each of you will sit in this room for 3 days and hear the same information presented in precisely the same way. But you'll leave here having had an entirely different experience from the persons on your left and your right. You will connect different dots, have different epiphanies, make different associations. Objective reality will be the same for each of you. But your perceptual realities will be yours alone."
There are 525,948.766 minutes in a year. This means that each minute, the 6 billion of us experience a collective 11,408 years of perceptual reality. And each day we live a collective 16,427,455 years. *Check math below...
Given that we lived nearly sixteen and a half million years yesterday, it seems like one of us would've figured out how to end poverty, crime and war, doesn't it? (Personally, I was really busy, so I was counting on you.)
Perceptual reality is yours alone.
Every door of opportunity begins as a window in your mind.
Look through that window of imagination and glimpse a world that could be, someday. Keep looking… Be patient… And watch it grow into a door of Opportunity through which you might pass into an entirely different future.
Opportunity never knocks. But it hangs thick in the air all around you. You breathe it unthinking, and dissipate it with your sighs.
Opportunity never knocks. It appears, flickering, like faulty neon at a nondescript fork in the road.Opportunity never knocks. It whispers, a tickle in your distracted mind.
So what are you going to do? Will you sleep, unaware of the miracles that need your assistance, or will you open your eyes, look through that window, and begin doing what only you can do?
Roy H. Williams
*6,000,000,000 (persons in the world) divided by 525,948.766 (minutes in a year) = 11,407.9553 years of perceptual reality experienced each minute, x 1,440 (minutes in a day) = 16,427,455.6 (years of perceptual reality in a day.)
Monday, June 20, 2005
To Hell and Back Again...A Spiritual Journey...
My friends call me Moose.
I was born in a little town of Carrot River Saskatchewan. I was raised in a physically abusive alcoholic home, with my mom and my two brothers, and her boyfriend a Canadian Navy man. I started drinking at the age of ten. I learned how to swear like a trooper, take beatings and pain, and not show emotion, because real men are tough. I thought this was normal.
When I lived in Ridgedale, Saskatchewan, my first experience with church was in the Arborfield Anglican church where I attended where I was baptized and confirmed.
I attended my grandma's United Church in Carrot River when we moved back there and sang in the choir and was in the youth group but could never seem to see God as a relevant, life force impacting my life. He seemed to be a dead person and the whole of the church as dead as He was.
I saw God as a far off entity that I could never be holy enough to reach, and who seemed to take joy in the hellish life I was living. My mother soon left her abusive boyfriend and I began to rebel. Anything remotely related to God I came at abusively.
I became enthralled and learned all I could on the topic of Evolution. It made sense that we were animals because that is all I saw of human life. I left home as soon as I graduated from high school and moved up to Thompson Manitoba to meet and get to know my biological father. I worked at Inco and my drug life worsened. I met a lady and her daughter whom I raised as my own and had a somewhat normal life except for the drug use. I found that I became just like my mom's boyfriend, in violent outbursts and chronic alcoholism, and I started dealing narcotics.
I went through the local dry out center twice, was in AA and NA but to no avail. Every time I got to turning my life and my will over to God as I understood Him, I saw the father figure I grew up with, and I projected my ideas of him onto God.
Fearing me, my girlfriend left and things got worse.I lost everything I owned except for the things on my back and was on the street. I lived at friends places but always got kicked out of everywhere because of drugs or my alcoholism. I hitchhiked out to B.C. with a buddy of mine and slept in Laundromats, in ditches, under vehicles etc., stealing food to eat, I was really at the end of myself.
One night as I lay outside Chilliwack, by the river, it was a clear night, a full moon, stars were out, the light from the moon glistened over the mountaintops, as the glacier river trickled by, and as I lay there, hadn't eaten in days, I remember thinking, looking up at the beauty that surrounded me, the this just didn't happen, someone had to have created all this. The moon, the stars, the mountains, it was all too perfect to have been created by chaos. I remember saying to myself, man, there just has to be a God.
Satan comes to kill, steal, and destroy.
I went to check an old bank account to see if I had any money, even a couple dollars to buy a donut or something and to my surprise someone had deposited 25,000 into my old bank account and then removed it leaving me 300 dollars. I knew I didn't have 25,000 and that I didn't have anything owing to me, so I took the money and bought some food, and some drugs to sell. I ended up back in Thompson Manitoba, and was about to sell my drugs when I got busted and arrested for possession. When I got out, I found that I had applied for welfare months before and it had been approved. Apparently I had an apartment that the City of Thompson had paid for while I was gone to B.C. So now I finally had an address.
I got back into dealing and found out that I had UI coming in from my work at INCO so I got back into the lifestyle I had before I was on the street drinking, drugs, but now with a new twist. My friend had introduced me to Satanism.
I was listening to Slayer, and a plethora of other bands and became intrigued with the Satan, his power and living my life the way I wanted to at any cost. Jesus told us a new commandment He gives unto us: Love the Lord with all your heart, with all your mind, and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Satanism's first commandment was Do what Thou Wilt. If it felt good do it. If it hurt anyone so what. I would routinely call on demons to do my will and they always complied with a price. Satan delivered "miracles" fast and in any way I wanted faster than God to keep me in his hand. He furnished my apartment, got me women, and all the drugs and booze I could get my hands on in return for my soul.
I became involved with the local bike club called the Mud Brothers although I did not become a member I started hanging around with them, partying with them, and doing drugs with them. I bought a my first Harley a '74 Sportster and picked up my love of riding again.
Satan is the father of lies and had me believing I would reign with him in Hell and we would control this world together. Boy was I wrong.
One night after a satanic ritual, I came home and looked in my mirror. I still to this day do not know if God allowed me to see into Satan's realm, or if Satan got bold enough to show his true intentions. I have never feared any man. I have been able to fight my way out of any confrontation with people. I say this because fear was not a big thing in my life until that night.
Instead of seeing my bathroom in my mirror, towel racks behind me with towels, etc. I saw into Hell. I saw Satan laughing at me. Satan was more than just visible, he was beyond visible, his appearance was lost in the evil that surrounded him. Just as someone had written words in the sand in gasoline and lit them, the words YOU FOOL burned into my mind. I was left reeling. Why was Satan laughing at me? Where did that leave me. I was Afraid for the first time in my life, really afraid. I knew in the back of my mind at night when I was alone and in bed, that if there was a Hell, there had to be a Heaven, for Satan to exist, God must. I knew I was in trouble. I was running from Satan.
At this time I met a lady named Marianne. She was a backslidden Christian I fell head over heels in love with. She was so totally different than anyone I had ever met. Satan wanted me to use women, but this one I wanted to keep. We fell in love and one day I sat up in bed and decided that I was tired of drugs and alcohol. I still didn't have God.
My Grandfather wrote me a letter to see if I would come visit him in Saskatoon and included the funds to come see him. I went down to Saskatoon, and on the way back stopped in Carrot River to visit my family. I hadn't seen them in years, and the only time I talked to them was Christmas times when I would phone all drunk longing for home.Turned out that they had moved. I had to find out where they lived and when I found out where they lived I found out in short order they had all become Christians! I was the black sheep of the family and was the only one on the outside.
Marianne gave her life back to Jesus while we were out in Carrot River and she persuaded me that we should move to Carrot River to be close to the family. She had ulterior motives so we packed up an old 76 Mercury Marquis and trailered an old 70s van to Carrot River with all of our stuff. Looking back Satan really didn't want us to go. 3 hitch pins and 20 hours later we got to Carrot River on a trip that should of only taken us 10 or so.
Mom had gotten re-married to a wonderful guy who treats her like a queen and they graciously allowed us to live in a trailer on their property. Mom has a gift of discernment, is a real prayer warrior and would go through bouts of Satanic attack where she would wake up in the night with invisible hands trying to strangle her. She knew we had been into something. She asked if we would move into our own place as she tried to reach us.
She would find articles on "bikers" to show us to try and convince me that bikers could be Christians. I didn't think they could that I was too bad to be a Christian because I was a biker. She would show me pictures of Jerry Savelle with short hair in a Christian Reader magazine sitting on a Goldwing. Now, understand that a real biker sees Japanese bikes as Jap Scrap, only real bikers ride Harleys, then Triumphs, then BMWs. I do not see things that way now. That short hair...I remember saying that's not a biker, that's a nerd Christian on Jap Scrap. That's not a biker! We got in a big fight and I stormed outside.
Later, mom came outside and apologized for the fight, and explained she just did not want me to go to hell. She wanted her son in heaven with her. I remember telling her that I was walking down a street with shrines and buildings representing different religions and I know that the little church at the end of the street is there, and I promised her if I ever do go into that little church I was going to do it all or nothing. God told her that I would come to Jesus soon.
My brother meanwhile had been on the road touring with a band called Jack Jackson Ministries. He had been asking everyone along the way, wherever he went to pray for his brother named Steve. I was number one on his "hit list" and as he went he collected testimonies of different individuals he met along the way. He later went on to play with Double Portion in the same capacity. Kel found two tapes, one of Ed Brouwer, who was the president of I.C.B.A., and Doug Stadnyk, a brother in Saskatoon. I listened to both of them, both from outlaw biker groups, and found out that yes, bikers can become Christians. Doug Stadnyk's tape had a copy of his prison photo and I knew that he was the real deal. The excuse that a biker cannot be a Christian was settled. I still fought it though, until one day, my dad asked me to come over to listen to a Walter Martin tape.
Walter Martin was a real man of God who wrote Kingdom of the Cults which is required reading in most Bible Schools. This is a man of God who died on his knees in prayer, Spirit filled and Holy Ghost empowered.While I listened, Walter Martin talked about demon possessions. I had never believed that possessions were possible and if they were it was only in Hollywood or that a person who was trying to control a demon may have been to weak and MAYBE became possessed.
As I listened two things warred within me. I felt somehow that this man, his words were the truth. I felt it somehow. I also felt that if this was the truth, I was in serious trouble. I immediately asked my dad to go outside and talk to me.I was scared. I was running from Satan, but where to? I couldn't run to Krishna, he was there, I couldn't run to Buddha, he is there, Satanism was out of the question, and I had no other options. I asked dad what to do. He said How about Jesus?
HOW BOUT THAT JESUS, for the first time it made sense, if He really conquered Satan, He could protect me. I knelt down at the picnic table beside my stepfather because I thought the only way to meet God was on my knees. Out of sheer fear, and need for Jesus to be my shield and my protector, I asked Jesus to come into my life and make me new. I had finally accepted Jesus as my Savior.
When I finally opened my eyes I felt like I had been whacked over the head by a two by four, as I hung over the bench, the grass was greener, the sky was bluer, the sun was warmer on my face. My dad asked me if I wanted to renounce Satan's hold on my life and I said yes. He led me in a prayer of renunciation when I told Satan in the name of Jesus I renounce you he started choking me out. My dad started praying and commanding satan to let go of me and then the words spilled out. I felt something tear out of my body and leave. Satan lost a hold that day August 12th 1991.
Mom and Dad discipled us and stuck though all the hard questions, what we should and shouldn't be doing, and really helped us grow. I started going to an M.B. church in Carrot River. It was really hard to get used to people hugging you all the time, I always checked my back pocket in case I was getting my wallet pinched...It took a while to figure out all the christianese, and I found out that I should get married to Marianne if I was living with her.
We got married September 9, 1991 in my moms living room attended by dad, and a Justice of the Peace. About this time, I began to wonder if there were other bikers like me. I tried to get a hold of someone who knew about Doug Stadnyk and hook up with other bikers in Saskatoon. I found out about a group I.C.B.A. in Saskatoon International Christian Bikers Association. I hooked up with them and started riding with them doing ministry and reaching the seemingly unreachable.
We moved to Saskatoon, became members of I.C.B.A. I became filled with the Holy Spirit while I was at a Four Square Church just after we moved to Saskatoon during the beginnings of the Vineyard movement. I started work in Saskatoon and in 1993 had a bike wreck. I was mad at God asking Him why this happened. God showed me an through an analogy that I still hadn't dealt with the way I viewed my Harleys. I slept with my motorcycles in my bedroom, they spent the winters in my living rooms, my owners manual was called my Bible. I still saw Japanese motorcycles as Jap Scrap. God wanted nothing between Him and me. Whether God allowed the bike wreck to happen through Satan or not, I found out that God disciplines his children. I now see motorcycles just like other vehicles that God blesses us with, and Japanese bikes as brothers in the wind. Two wheels are always better than four though :)
Myself, and two other bikers started Open Arms Fellowship, which became known in Saskatoon as "The Biker Church" We had felt the sting of other conventional churches who couldn't relate to Bikers and street people in their churches so we decided to start a church where anyone could feel accepted and loved. We ran that for about 5 years. I presently go to a Spirit filled Mennonite Brethern church called Hope Fellowship Church in Saskatoon.
I was moping around one day and heard a sermon on how shepherds deal with lambs that don't stay with the flock. This is not a common trait but it does happen. The shepherd takes the lamb, or so I am told and snaps their front legs so they cannot walk away. He then nurses them back to health in his arms by the fire, and they will never leave his side again. In my bike wreck, I had only my left leg broken, I should of been dead. God reminded me that He let that happen to discipline me. He had removed the Harley from my life, and He had drawn me close to Himself.
In 1994 I was asking God what to do. My job wasn't going well and I felt spiritually out of sync. I remember worshipping Him on my couch in the Spirit with my guitar and all of a sudden I was in the heavenlies. God asked what was the desire of my heart. I told Him to follow Him and go to Bible College. When I came out of worship the phone rang I had been invited to go to Bible College, the phone rang again and a friend phoned to tell that if I was interested in Bible College he found a place for us. Talk about a miracle.I went to Bible college for two years, Marianne for three, and with the money from insurance from the bike wreck we bought a house, and I bought another Harley.
The Refiners Fire...
The motorcycle group I.C.B.A that was in Saskatoon eventually fell apart, my wife ended up with another man and my spiritual life was tested like it had never been before. After 15 years of marriage my wife decided to leave town with another man, leave me and all the debt and go on the run. This shook me to my very foundation, everything I believed about God, marriage, relationships, faith. My church at Hope Fellowship surrounded me with such love and prayer and the men of my church kept tabs on me to make sure I was ok. I have to admit, if I did not have my church family at that time, my real family too, I am not sure where I would of been. It seemed as if everything I held onto religious snapped off me everything I had put my trust in except Jesus snapped away until all I was left with was Jesus Christ and Him only. I explain it this way, there was this photo I once saw of a Harley Davidson ad as they moved back to Kevlar belts for their drive and were trying to convince people that belts were good again. They had this striking photo of a Heritage Softail I believe it was held up in the air by a single thread of Kevlar to a crane and something to the effect of something this tough you can have trust in... That was basically where I was, the only thing that hadn't snapped away was this thin thread of Jesus and instead of a motorcycle at the end, that was me.
I started drinking again after being sober since 1991 and got drunk a few times. This really scared me as I remembered the road I had been down earlier in my life. I decided that the bottle was not going to win and then started really throwing myself into church activities and the Jr. Youth group at my church. I immersed my self in the church and the more I did the stronger I got. A couple years later and after much healing I decided I wanted to see what was out there as far as a ladyfriend. The divorce had basically gone through, my ex had moved on with her life and I decided it was time to move on with mine.
I started putting my profile up on cupid.com to see what was out there. After a few strange encounters I decided that the online dating thing was not working out and was going to take my profile off. That same day a beautiful lady from North Battleford contacted me and we decided to meet. We have been dating since August 2006 and she is a beautiful lady with an even more beautiful heart and 3 boys. At the time of this writing we get married August 4th 2007 in a church wedding in a little Anglican church in the Western Development Museum. She goes to an Apostolic church in North Battleford and I will be moving out there after our marriage.
It seems that everything Satan meant for evil, God has restored. I lost my marriage, God gave me the lady of my dreams, I lost my house, I will be moving into hers, I totalled my car off before Christmas, I have another car, I still have to find another job out there, but I know that is all in Gods hands as well. In the Apostolic church they need guess what? Junior youth workers lol... God is so good. A buddy of mine out there also runs a street outreach ministry and jail ministry and that is where my heart is. God loves bikers and street people and God had impressed upon my heart that we do not have much time to reach the lost. The fields are white unto harvest. Jesus commands us to go.
Been a while since I updated this blog.
This is where I am at today... a testimony is never static but active and I am sure there will be more notes as my Christian life goes on. As for now I am still in my boots for Jesus, my heart is still for Biker/Street Person/ Youth Ministry and now I will have another partner to walk with Jesus and this though with. God is so good.
God is a God of restoration and second chances. That is what and who He is. God is the very essence of Love. He loved us enough to send His son to die for us and His son, Jesus loved us enough to forgive us from the cross. His blood removes sin if we will but accept His precious gift and receive Him into our hearts. Jesus conquered death taking the very keys from Death and Hell and Rising up from the grave. Jesus is alive and His tomb is empty. What a mighty God I serve. If you want to find out more about Him click the links to the right especially Who Is Jesus Really. Thanks for taking the time to read this. God Bless you.
Moose
I was born in a little town of Carrot River Saskatchewan. I was raised in a physically abusive alcoholic home, with my mom and my two brothers, and her boyfriend a Canadian Navy man. I started drinking at the age of ten. I learned how to swear like a trooper, take beatings and pain, and not show emotion, because real men are tough. I thought this was normal.
When I lived in Ridgedale, Saskatchewan, my first experience with church was in the Arborfield Anglican church where I attended where I was baptized and confirmed.
I attended my grandma's United Church in Carrot River when we moved back there and sang in the choir and was in the youth group but could never seem to see God as a relevant, life force impacting my life. He seemed to be a dead person and the whole of the church as dead as He was.
I saw God as a far off entity that I could never be holy enough to reach, and who seemed to take joy in the hellish life I was living. My mother soon left her abusive boyfriend and I began to rebel. Anything remotely related to God I came at abusively.
I became enthralled and learned all I could on the topic of Evolution. It made sense that we were animals because that is all I saw of human life. I left home as soon as I graduated from high school and moved up to Thompson Manitoba to meet and get to know my biological father. I worked at Inco and my drug life worsened. I met a lady and her daughter whom I raised as my own and had a somewhat normal life except for the drug use. I found that I became just like my mom's boyfriend, in violent outbursts and chronic alcoholism, and I started dealing narcotics.
I went through the local dry out center twice, was in AA and NA but to no avail. Every time I got to turning my life and my will over to God as I understood Him, I saw the father figure I grew up with, and I projected my ideas of him onto God.
Fearing me, my girlfriend left and things got worse.I lost everything I owned except for the things on my back and was on the street. I lived at friends places but always got kicked out of everywhere because of drugs or my alcoholism. I hitchhiked out to B.C. with a buddy of mine and slept in Laundromats, in ditches, under vehicles etc., stealing food to eat, I was really at the end of myself.
One night as I lay outside Chilliwack, by the river, it was a clear night, a full moon, stars were out, the light from the moon glistened over the mountaintops, as the glacier river trickled by, and as I lay there, hadn't eaten in days, I remember thinking, looking up at the beauty that surrounded me, the this just didn't happen, someone had to have created all this. The moon, the stars, the mountains, it was all too perfect to have been created by chaos. I remember saying to myself, man, there just has to be a God.
Satan comes to kill, steal, and destroy.
I went to check an old bank account to see if I had any money, even a couple dollars to buy a donut or something and to my surprise someone had deposited 25,000 into my old bank account and then removed it leaving me 300 dollars. I knew I didn't have 25,000 and that I didn't have anything owing to me, so I took the money and bought some food, and some drugs to sell. I ended up back in Thompson Manitoba, and was about to sell my drugs when I got busted and arrested for possession. When I got out, I found that I had applied for welfare months before and it had been approved. Apparently I had an apartment that the City of Thompson had paid for while I was gone to B.C. So now I finally had an address.
I got back into dealing and found out that I had UI coming in from my work at INCO so I got back into the lifestyle I had before I was on the street drinking, drugs, but now with a new twist. My friend had introduced me to Satanism.
I was listening to Slayer, and a plethora of other bands and became intrigued with the Satan, his power and living my life the way I wanted to at any cost. Jesus told us a new commandment He gives unto us: Love the Lord with all your heart, with all your mind, and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Satanism's first commandment was Do what Thou Wilt. If it felt good do it. If it hurt anyone so what. I would routinely call on demons to do my will and they always complied with a price. Satan delivered "miracles" fast and in any way I wanted faster than God to keep me in his hand. He furnished my apartment, got me women, and all the drugs and booze I could get my hands on in return for my soul.
I became involved with the local bike club called the Mud Brothers although I did not become a member I started hanging around with them, partying with them, and doing drugs with them. I bought a my first Harley a '74 Sportster and picked up my love of riding again.
Satan is the father of lies and had me believing I would reign with him in Hell and we would control this world together. Boy was I wrong.
One night after a satanic ritual, I came home and looked in my mirror. I still to this day do not know if God allowed me to see into Satan's realm, or if Satan got bold enough to show his true intentions. I have never feared any man. I have been able to fight my way out of any confrontation with people. I say this because fear was not a big thing in my life until that night.
Instead of seeing my bathroom in my mirror, towel racks behind me with towels, etc. I saw into Hell. I saw Satan laughing at me. Satan was more than just visible, he was beyond visible, his appearance was lost in the evil that surrounded him. Just as someone had written words in the sand in gasoline and lit them, the words YOU FOOL burned into my mind. I was left reeling. Why was Satan laughing at me? Where did that leave me. I was Afraid for the first time in my life, really afraid. I knew in the back of my mind at night when I was alone and in bed, that if there was a Hell, there had to be a Heaven, for Satan to exist, God must. I knew I was in trouble. I was running from Satan.
At this time I met a lady named Marianne. She was a backslidden Christian I fell head over heels in love with. She was so totally different than anyone I had ever met. Satan wanted me to use women, but this one I wanted to keep. We fell in love and one day I sat up in bed and decided that I was tired of drugs and alcohol. I still didn't have God.
My Grandfather wrote me a letter to see if I would come visit him in Saskatoon and included the funds to come see him. I went down to Saskatoon, and on the way back stopped in Carrot River to visit my family. I hadn't seen them in years, and the only time I talked to them was Christmas times when I would phone all drunk longing for home.Turned out that they had moved. I had to find out where they lived and when I found out where they lived I found out in short order they had all become Christians! I was the black sheep of the family and was the only one on the outside.
Marianne gave her life back to Jesus while we were out in Carrot River and she persuaded me that we should move to Carrot River to be close to the family. She had ulterior motives so we packed up an old 76 Mercury Marquis and trailered an old 70s van to Carrot River with all of our stuff. Looking back Satan really didn't want us to go. 3 hitch pins and 20 hours later we got to Carrot River on a trip that should of only taken us 10 or so.
Mom had gotten re-married to a wonderful guy who treats her like a queen and they graciously allowed us to live in a trailer on their property. Mom has a gift of discernment, is a real prayer warrior and would go through bouts of Satanic attack where she would wake up in the night with invisible hands trying to strangle her. She knew we had been into something. She asked if we would move into our own place as she tried to reach us.
She would find articles on "bikers" to show us to try and convince me that bikers could be Christians. I didn't think they could that I was too bad to be a Christian because I was a biker. She would show me pictures of Jerry Savelle with short hair in a Christian Reader magazine sitting on a Goldwing. Now, understand that a real biker sees Japanese bikes as Jap Scrap, only real bikers ride Harleys, then Triumphs, then BMWs. I do not see things that way now. That short hair...I remember saying that's not a biker, that's a nerd Christian on Jap Scrap. That's not a biker! We got in a big fight and I stormed outside.
Later, mom came outside and apologized for the fight, and explained she just did not want me to go to hell. She wanted her son in heaven with her. I remember telling her that I was walking down a street with shrines and buildings representing different religions and I know that the little church at the end of the street is there, and I promised her if I ever do go into that little church I was going to do it all or nothing. God told her that I would come to Jesus soon.
My brother meanwhile had been on the road touring with a band called Jack Jackson Ministries. He had been asking everyone along the way, wherever he went to pray for his brother named Steve. I was number one on his "hit list" and as he went he collected testimonies of different individuals he met along the way. He later went on to play with Double Portion in the same capacity. Kel found two tapes, one of Ed Brouwer, who was the president of I.C.B.A., and Doug Stadnyk, a brother in Saskatoon. I listened to both of them, both from outlaw biker groups, and found out that yes, bikers can become Christians. Doug Stadnyk's tape had a copy of his prison photo and I knew that he was the real deal. The excuse that a biker cannot be a Christian was settled. I still fought it though, until one day, my dad asked me to come over to listen to a Walter Martin tape.
Walter Martin was a real man of God who wrote Kingdom of the Cults which is required reading in most Bible Schools. This is a man of God who died on his knees in prayer, Spirit filled and Holy Ghost empowered.While I listened, Walter Martin talked about demon possessions. I had never believed that possessions were possible and if they were it was only in Hollywood or that a person who was trying to control a demon may have been to weak and MAYBE became possessed.
As I listened two things warred within me. I felt somehow that this man, his words were the truth. I felt it somehow. I also felt that if this was the truth, I was in serious trouble. I immediately asked my dad to go outside and talk to me.I was scared. I was running from Satan, but where to? I couldn't run to Krishna, he was there, I couldn't run to Buddha, he is there, Satanism was out of the question, and I had no other options. I asked dad what to do. He said How about Jesus?
HOW BOUT THAT JESUS, for the first time it made sense, if He really conquered Satan, He could protect me. I knelt down at the picnic table beside my stepfather because I thought the only way to meet God was on my knees. Out of sheer fear, and need for Jesus to be my shield and my protector, I asked Jesus to come into my life and make me new. I had finally accepted Jesus as my Savior.
When I finally opened my eyes I felt like I had been whacked over the head by a two by four, as I hung over the bench, the grass was greener, the sky was bluer, the sun was warmer on my face. My dad asked me if I wanted to renounce Satan's hold on my life and I said yes. He led me in a prayer of renunciation when I told Satan in the name of Jesus I renounce you he started choking me out. My dad started praying and commanding satan to let go of me and then the words spilled out. I felt something tear out of my body and leave. Satan lost a hold that day August 12th 1991.
Mom and Dad discipled us and stuck though all the hard questions, what we should and shouldn't be doing, and really helped us grow. I started going to an M.B. church in Carrot River. It was really hard to get used to people hugging you all the time, I always checked my back pocket in case I was getting my wallet pinched...It took a while to figure out all the christianese, and I found out that I should get married to Marianne if I was living with her.
We got married September 9, 1991 in my moms living room attended by dad, and a Justice of the Peace. About this time, I began to wonder if there were other bikers like me. I tried to get a hold of someone who knew about Doug Stadnyk and hook up with other bikers in Saskatoon. I found out about a group I.C.B.A. in Saskatoon International Christian Bikers Association. I hooked up with them and started riding with them doing ministry and reaching the seemingly unreachable.
We moved to Saskatoon, became members of I.C.B.A. I became filled with the Holy Spirit while I was at a Four Square Church just after we moved to Saskatoon during the beginnings of the Vineyard movement. I started work in Saskatoon and in 1993 had a bike wreck. I was mad at God asking Him why this happened. God showed me an through an analogy that I still hadn't dealt with the way I viewed my Harleys. I slept with my motorcycles in my bedroom, they spent the winters in my living rooms, my owners manual was called my Bible. I still saw Japanese motorcycles as Jap Scrap. God wanted nothing between Him and me. Whether God allowed the bike wreck to happen through Satan or not, I found out that God disciplines his children. I now see motorcycles just like other vehicles that God blesses us with, and Japanese bikes as brothers in the wind. Two wheels are always better than four though :)
Myself, and two other bikers started Open Arms Fellowship, which became known in Saskatoon as "The Biker Church" We had felt the sting of other conventional churches who couldn't relate to Bikers and street people in their churches so we decided to start a church where anyone could feel accepted and loved. We ran that for about 5 years. I presently go to a Spirit filled Mennonite Brethern church called Hope Fellowship Church in Saskatoon.
I was moping around one day and heard a sermon on how shepherds deal with lambs that don't stay with the flock. This is not a common trait but it does happen. The shepherd takes the lamb, or so I am told and snaps their front legs so they cannot walk away. He then nurses them back to health in his arms by the fire, and they will never leave his side again. In my bike wreck, I had only my left leg broken, I should of been dead. God reminded me that He let that happen to discipline me. He had removed the Harley from my life, and He had drawn me close to Himself.
In 1994 I was asking God what to do. My job wasn't going well and I felt spiritually out of sync. I remember worshipping Him on my couch in the Spirit with my guitar and all of a sudden I was in the heavenlies. God asked what was the desire of my heart. I told Him to follow Him and go to Bible College. When I came out of worship the phone rang I had been invited to go to Bible College, the phone rang again and a friend phoned to tell that if I was interested in Bible College he found a place for us. Talk about a miracle.I went to Bible college for two years, Marianne for three, and with the money from insurance from the bike wreck we bought a house, and I bought another Harley.
The Refiners Fire...
The motorcycle group I.C.B.A that was in Saskatoon eventually fell apart, my wife ended up with another man and my spiritual life was tested like it had never been before. After 15 years of marriage my wife decided to leave town with another man, leave me and all the debt and go on the run. This shook me to my very foundation, everything I believed about God, marriage, relationships, faith. My church at Hope Fellowship surrounded me with such love and prayer and the men of my church kept tabs on me to make sure I was ok. I have to admit, if I did not have my church family at that time, my real family too, I am not sure where I would of been. It seemed as if everything I held onto religious snapped off me everything I had put my trust in except Jesus snapped away until all I was left with was Jesus Christ and Him only. I explain it this way, there was this photo I once saw of a Harley Davidson ad as they moved back to Kevlar belts for their drive and were trying to convince people that belts were good again. They had this striking photo of a Heritage Softail I believe it was held up in the air by a single thread of Kevlar to a crane and something to the effect of something this tough you can have trust in... That was basically where I was, the only thing that hadn't snapped away was this thin thread of Jesus and instead of a motorcycle at the end, that was me.
I started drinking again after being sober since 1991 and got drunk a few times. This really scared me as I remembered the road I had been down earlier in my life. I decided that the bottle was not going to win and then started really throwing myself into church activities and the Jr. Youth group at my church. I immersed my self in the church and the more I did the stronger I got. A couple years later and after much healing I decided I wanted to see what was out there as far as a ladyfriend. The divorce had basically gone through, my ex had moved on with her life and I decided it was time to move on with mine.
I started putting my profile up on cupid.com to see what was out there. After a few strange encounters I decided that the online dating thing was not working out and was going to take my profile off. That same day a beautiful lady from North Battleford contacted me and we decided to meet. We have been dating since August 2006 and she is a beautiful lady with an even more beautiful heart and 3 boys. At the time of this writing we get married August 4th 2007 in a church wedding in a little Anglican church in the Western Development Museum. She goes to an Apostolic church in North Battleford and I will be moving out there after our marriage.
It seems that everything Satan meant for evil, God has restored. I lost my marriage, God gave me the lady of my dreams, I lost my house, I will be moving into hers, I totalled my car off before Christmas, I have another car, I still have to find another job out there, but I know that is all in Gods hands as well. In the Apostolic church they need guess what? Junior youth workers lol... God is so good. A buddy of mine out there also runs a street outreach ministry and jail ministry and that is where my heart is. God loves bikers and street people and God had impressed upon my heart that we do not have much time to reach the lost. The fields are white unto harvest. Jesus commands us to go.
Been a while since I updated this blog.
This is where I am at today... a testimony is never static but active and I am sure there will be more notes as my Christian life goes on. As for now I am still in my boots for Jesus, my heart is still for Biker/Street Person/ Youth Ministry and now I will have another partner to walk with Jesus and this though with. God is so good.
God is a God of restoration and second chances. That is what and who He is. God is the very essence of Love. He loved us enough to send His son to die for us and His son, Jesus loved us enough to forgive us from the cross. His blood removes sin if we will but accept His precious gift and receive Him into our hearts. Jesus conquered death taking the very keys from Death and Hell and Rising up from the grave. Jesus is alive and His tomb is empty. What a mighty God I serve. If you want to find out more about Him click the links to the right especially Who Is Jesus Really. Thanks for taking the time to read this. God Bless you.
Moose
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