Be Still

My mp3 player has about 431 files on it (432?). I have it on random play. That should give a 1 in 431 (432?) chance for each song to play...

Yet somehow, almost without exception, every single time I listen to more than a few songs on it (but still not many), the same track begins to play. It's by a guy named Leonard Ravenhill, and it's called "Be Still." Each time it begins, I can't help but think I haven't yet learned what I need to from it... so I listen to it again. This has been going on for about the past month.

The quotes that stick with me from it... scare me, frankly. I'm going to post some of them below... in no particular order - I strongly recommend you listen to the sermon.

"I haven't been to college. There's an old friend of mine said 'I haven't been to college, but I have the blessed knowledge, that my sins are all forgiven and I'm on my way to heaven - what else do I want anyhow?' So kiss your degree goodbye and start trusting the L-rd."

"G-d will start moving on your life when you're totally severed from this world. From all of its pleasures, its pomp, and its pride. Other things can do it - G-d isn't asking them, He's asking you. He'll ask you to pay a price nobody else is going to pay. Men were never crucified in dozens... one at a time. I can hear that sweet little voice of Dr. Tozer's [?] saying to me again, 'You know, Len, people are so afraid to trust G-d... so afraid to die.'"

"Put a consuming passion in my heart that will NEVER go out! That will control all my deeds, all my thoughts, all my actions. Let them be Love-motivated -- Holy Love! I want to be someone who'll stand in the gap for this generation."

Free Book

Last night I read through Bruchko again. It's about the seventh or eighth time I've read it - the second time in less than two weeks. I believe that it is the most influential and amazing biography that I've ever read... and I honestly believe that anyone who loves G-d (or even claims to) should read it.

So I've decided to offer it to you - until either G-d tells me to stop, I run out of money, or they run out of books. Just email me with the address you'd like it shipped to, and (once I get back from Peru, in the beginning of August) I'll buy you one. When you get it, please read it and then pass it on to someone else.

The book, again, is called "Bruchko" and is the "astonishing true story of a 19-year-old American -- his capture by the Motilone Indians and his adventures in Christianizing the Stone Age tribe." It's phenomenal. Bruce's website can be found here.

There aren't any strings attached. Just email me at keep.torah(atsign)gmail(dotsymbol)com.

Follow the Master.

My Glory

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

"What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?"

He answered: "'Love the L-rd your G-d with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

"You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live."

(Luke 10:25-28, NIV)

Notice Jesus' response here. He doesn't say "believe in Me and you'll live." (The fact is, anyone who truly does what the expert in the Law answered /would/ believe all of Jesus' words, because He never once contradicts G-d's previous words through Moses or the prophets.) "Believing in Jesus" was never the focus. The way you're considered righteous has never changed throughout the ages.

Now... there are many who teach that some of G-d's word has been nullified by Jesus - for example, that there is no longer any necessity to keep the Sabbath, because it's just a "ceremonial" law, and all we have to keep are the moral laws. There's a problem with this justification, though... namely, the fact that G-d commanded His people to keep Shabbat. When G-d commands something, it becomes a moral obligation.

Am I saying (oh dear!) that in order to be considered righteous you must keep all of G-d's commandments flawlessly for your entire life? Am I preaching "works-based salvation"? Of course not. What I am saying, though, is that if you truly love someone, you're going to go out of your way to see how you can please that person. If it offends your brother that you eat shrimp, are you going to eat it in front of him? How much more Him who you claim is Master of your Life!

The problem with "Christianity" today is that people don't love G-d. They've been told that all they need to do is "believe in Jesus" (how does one do that, anyway?) and they'll have "eternal security." There's nothing in the Bible to support this. 1 John 5:3 is good here.

I need to go, my time is up at the café. Something to ponder... more thoughts later.

More Old Poetry

Few more poems I never posted... these two were written about the middle of last month.

I've prayed before, and now again:
L-rd, let me ne'er be swayed by sin.
Take my life, my G-d, 'tis Thine,
Let it with Thy glory shine.
Lead me each and every day,
Teach me patience, L-rd, I pray.

----------------------

You can't have yesterday back, it's gone.
The time has come to travel on,
Into the things today will bring;
Whether joy, or suffering.
The time for pettiness has past,
Busy yourself with what will last.
Without a price there is no gain;
No precious treasure without pain.
Endure! Endure! And gain one day,
That crown which will not fade away.

Thoughts...

Couple of random thoughts to include in this post.

First, something that's been floating around my head for about a week now: the most beautiful moments in life can't be photographed.

For example, the market I wrote about two entries ago... or the beautiful mountain land that I visited yesterday (for sale at $15/m^2, with 12k square meters).

Second. Tonight we were walking around downtown Cuzco (my host mom and I), and they were having a bunch of beautiful dances put on by the school-children of the area. Every time I heard that haunting music (panpipes & traditional drums), and saw those beautiful children dancing... tears came to my eyes.

Third, I've got another poem to post. It's from the same time as the two I posted before - namely, July 9th at about 5pm.

An illness he had, and then he died;
The man, the prophet dignified.
Many he raised from deadly sleep,
And at his death the king did weep.
Yet even after death had won,
Another dead man saw the sun.
To every person, young and old,
He spoke the truth in all he told.
What gospel did this prophet speak?
"Repent, and all the statutes keep."

Quick!

Gotta post this fast - have like, three minutes left here at the café.

"Surrender"
Why surrender? Why, indeed.
Give your life for those in need...
Suffer hatred, sorrow, scorn;
So one or two can be reborn?
Many declined; a life of pleasure led...
Choose wisely, friend, you'll soon be dead.

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What kind of Love demands of me,
Everything that makes me "free"?
Yet, all life's "pleasures" left behind,
A life of Freedom I will find.

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Got more, but have to go!

A Broken Heart for Peru

Today after breakfast I went for a walk. I was just planning to go up to the main plaza and maybe check out the yarn shop. All morning, though, I'd been thinking about the sick beggars... thinking about how my faith needs stretching... and growing within me was the intention to pray for the beggars. And then... I took a "wrong" turn. (I put this in quotes because while some would no doubt call it that, I have a bit of trouble believing there is such a thing for someone being led by the Ruach HaKodesh.) I wasn't too familiar with the route to the plaza anyway, so I didn't notice immediately. When I did, I decided to just keep going and see where I ended up.

After a while, I came to a completely different part of town. The houses had thinned out, and there were fields beside the road instead. Up ahead I saw some buildings, so I kept walking. And then... oh, my people! What did I find, you ask? The Quechua people. Tucked away in this nearly deserted corner of Cuzco... my people. There, completely separate from the "main" part of Cuzco... there I found the true Peruvians. Their market was dirty and disorganized, with everything from clothing to hot food to fresh vegetables, laid out in piles underneath makeshift tents - that is, plastic tarps set up on poles. Oh, my people.

You could tell that not many white people come to that part of town... many people stared, and one young vendor asked me what I was looking for. Honestly, I don't think it's just white people they aren't used to seeing there... I got the feeling that no "outsiders" frequent that market.. Peruvian, white, or otherwise. I finished touring the mercado, and decided to return via a different street than that by which I'd come.

Sitting beside the road was a very old woman, begging. I told her truthfully that I had no money. On my second pass, I suddenly had a crazy impulse. Sitting down on the grating next to her, I bid her "Buenos dias" (Good day). She looked away, but I wasn't ready to give up. So I asked her if she had familia. She shook her head and mumbled something, and I realized she had not a single tooth in her mouth... nothing but a /huge/ wad of coca leaves, which she "chewed" with her gums. You can imagine, I'm sure, what a strange sight we made: a young caucasian sitting on the ground next to a wrinkled old Quechua beggar. Many people stared. Still I sat there, chatting at this woman, who would only occasionally respond in the slightest.

At one point early in the one-sided conversation I asked if she spoke Spanish, and she shook her head and mumbled "no." Not to be disuaded, I asked, "Quechua?" She shook her head and again mumbled a negative response... but a few minutes later, I asked (in Spanish) "So... no Spanish, no Quechua..." and she said something which included "Quechuapi" (in Quechua). Too bad I don't speak it... at least not their dialect, and not enough to say much anyway.

I sat there, and at one point said (in Spanish) that she was beautiful. She either ignored it or didn't understand. That's okay... I just wanted this woman to experience Love. I tried again: "En Quechua, se dice 'sumak'" (In Quechua, they say 'sumak'). That brought a response. She looked at me and repeated "sumak." I said, "Estas. Umm... sumak. Sumakmi kanki." (You are... beautiful. You really are beautiful.) She said something I didn't catch.

An old man walked up, wearing a tattered baseball cap. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, crossed himself, and took off his hat to me. I was a bit confused, I'll admit. He started talking, saying repeatedly "gracias" and "muchas gracias" and calling me "mamacita." I stood up to speak with him. He went on and on, but I could hardly understand anything he said due to the fact that he had only two teeth left. He kept thanking me. I don't really know for sure what he was saying. Once or twice he said "I'm just a little old grandfather."

At one point when he seemed to be talking about something sad, I said "Abuelo, sabe que Dios te ama?" (Grandfather, do you know that G-d loves you?). He beamed at me, took off his hat heavenwards, and started talking about El Señor (the L-rd). I repeated "He loves you" (in Spanish), and the man smiled and once again offed his hat toward heaven. He talked a bit more, thanking me over and over againa, and then walked away.

I sat back down with the woman, who I believe had been paying close attention the whole time. After just a few minutes, the Ruach of G-d said it was time to go. So I reached out and, putting my hand on her, I said, "Abuela, voy a ir ahora" (Grandmother, I'm going to go now). She looked away, her bright red hat hiding her wrinkled face, and made no response. "Buenas dias, okay?" (Good day, okay?) I said. "No!" she exclaimed. I was a bit surprised, since no one has ever declined a wish of "good day." "No? Por que no?" (No? Why not?) I asked. No answer.

"Abuela?" I asked, "Que es?" (Grandmother? What's wrong?) Still no response... just a turned head and a hat hiding her face. I leaned forward a bit to try to look her in the eyes, and she recoiled. I backed off, but I'd seen what I needed to see. For from the inner corners of her eyes, tears were making their way toward her cheeks. Repeating "Buenos dias, Abuela," I stood up and walked away.