God, though this life is but a wraith,
Although we know not what we use;
Although we grope with little faith,
Give me the heart to fight – and lose.

Ever insurgent let me be,
Make me more daring than devout;
From sleek contentment keep me free,
And fill me with a buoyant doubt.

Open my eyes to visions girt
With beauty, and with wonder lit -
But let me always see the dirt,
And all that spawn and die in it.

Open my ears to music, let
Me thrill with Spring’s first flutes and drums -
But never let me dare forget
The bitter ballads of the slums.

From compromise and things half-done,
Keep me, with stern and stubborn pride;
And when, at last, the fight is won,
God, keep me still unsatisfied.

The incision is only about an inch in length and horizontal. I have scars on my 56-year-old body that are much longer. And they all tell their stories.

There’s the one on my left little finger. I must have been about five or six. A friend (John Ed) and I were passengers in the back of a truck driven/owned by Jake. It was probably an early 50’s Chevrolet – only about six years old but a pile of old scrap steel nonetheless.  Jake stopped on our journey to the dump to see an elderly friend. John Ed jumped over the left side of the truck bed and landed gently in the dust of a cotton field. John Ed is about four years older than I. So I followed my peer’s lead and leaped. But I didn’t land on my feet. My hands also sank in the soft dirt. When I stood there was a gush of blood from a cut that went nearly to the bone and was as long as my little finger. Back in those days I didn’t faint at the sight of such things. But I did scream… a lot. Fortunately there was a local physician who patched me up.

The finger just beside that one has a nasty jagged scar that required twenty-odd stitches. Under my right index fingernail is scarring from getting sideways with a router. And here and there on my body are evidences of crossing paths with something stronger than my body could resist, with scars left behind.

I hope this biopsy is the final one. Scars have stories. Let’s keep this one short.

Just getting on the Internet has been a challenge, much less having the time to post to a blog. Nevertheless, having a connection for the moment, I come…

Renee has been in south Louisiana since December of last year helping her mother get through several surguries and recuperate. Along the way the decision was made that she would move from her house of 40-odd years to something smaller and more manageable. Downsizing from 2k to 1k sq. ft. has been challenging. But the selection of furniture and accessories was made and the move is a success. The remaining “stuff” must be garage-saled and the house readied for marketing. The process is slow as 51+ years are sorted through.

I came back to the States in June to walk through some medical testing with Renee. I believe that the USA has one of the best medical systems in the world. Can improvement be made? Surely! But we have great opportunities for health here in the US. Nevertheless, getting an analysis and prognosis of a potentially harmful disease is time consuming and testing of ones metal. Here we are near the end of September and we have had three doctor’s visits and only four tests run. We are grateful for the progress.

After half a year of repeated testing, the 5-HIAA results are negative – relief! A tissue sample from the base of Renee’s neck, just at the sternum, has revealed renegade cellular problems that require digging deeper into tissue with the hope of culling them all out. We hope so as well. An “eyeball” size sample will be taken on 09-Sept.

In the meantime we work to tell the stories of our mission in southern Spain. South Louisiana is very similar to southern Spain – a deeply religious region with little to no interest in spiritual matters. The response to our ministry here has been staggeringly low. If not for the medical testing I don’t think I would want to work the area. But the message of sharing the gospel to North Africa must be told. A sleepy church must be awakened to the realities of life as a believer in closed countries.

Over the past year-and-a-half, I have walked with Titans – men and women who daily risk their lives that others might know Christ Jesus as Savior and Lord. Some have paid the ultimate price.  Amidst a truly Laodicean church world, this cannot be silenced. The work of dedicated missionaries, the glorious work of Christ in closed countries, the sacrifices of men and women in cultures closed to the gospel message – all must be told with due diligence.

And we thought we were just back in the States for medical testing and fund raising.

1st

Given a computer generated image of a set and ten days for the task, we were able to transform a corner of our studio into a new set for a question-answer series. This series will focus on Muslim questions about Christianity. This is the second set built this month and the third video series in six weeks.

Finished empty set

Arabic Ministry Prayer points –

1. That these programs will provoke much thought and discussion among Muslims in the many countries that our broadcast reaches.

2. Other video series in post production filmed over the past six weeks.

3. One of our satellite stations unexpectedly changed our broadcast frequency. May the Lord raise up many new viewers because of this ‘mistake’.

4. For ‘M’, Arabic Ministry leader – creative wisdom.

dsc03570-e1

Studio, yesterday – the busyness is evident. For the past three weeks our crew, others from a partner ministry, and on-camera personalities have been in many locations to film a testimony series. The location shots were challenging. People everywhere stop and stare when a movie crew is at work. There were some tense moments as well.

But now the digital media is in the hands of the editors. We hope that in the coming weeks we’ll be able to see the results of this good work. Please pray that the message of Christ is clearly portrayed.

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