Posts tagged ‘Baptist’

I Hit the Ceiling, But My Prayer Didn’t

I joined Jesus when I was about 8 years old. Since then I never doubted my salvation. But… Read more…

The Award that Wasn’t

Robin Claire nominated me for the “Reality Blogging Award” and I have expressed my gratitude to her. For reasons that only, as she calls me, a “quirky” person would understand, I have chosen not to accept. Awards and recognition and status make me uneasy. I have linked to her blog anyway, so please click on her name and go there and be blessed by her words, as I have been.

That said, I choose to answer the questions that come with the nomination. They are not easy for me, and that is one reason I want to struggle with them, but I also like to gain insight into the hearts of other bloggers and so want to expose myself to those who may be curious about me (if any!?!) Read more…

Religious Secrets

For a long time we have been distracted into thinking that the enemy of Christ is science. Of course, science is an enemy of religion. Others attack Christian religion as a conspiracy. I still remember various religious groups, including the Vatican, denouncing the book by Dan Brown, “The Da Vinci Code”. I admit I haven’t read the book; I rarely read fiction. But why get your surplice in a knot over a mystery novel? Unless the fiction is so believable as to suggest religion is rife with conspiracy (which it is). Read more…

What Mother Did

My Father died when I was about seven. Mother raised the three of us, at great personal cost.


Sometimes the food wouldn’t divide four ways and so she went without anything. Since this all happened before the modern trend towards rights and protections we moved often. All her attempts at a new relationship rested on shaky terms because of her instinct to protect her brood.

She raised us in Baptist churches, though the specific breed never took on importance. The only thing that mattered in the choice was could we get a ride, or could we walk.

While such things escaped me when I was a child, it haunts me now to think that she went hungry so we kids could share the last of the bread and milk. The stress of single-parenting, all the weight of earning the money, finding accommodation, making what little we had go around makes an almost unbelievable story.

Had she just given up on us her own life might have turned out better for her. But she didn’t.

I make no pretense of my Mother living without flaws, nor does she. But I honour her model of faith, endurance and a love that goes far beyond words or definition.

When I look at my Mother I see Christ at work, not theologically, but in the dirt and grime of some of the worst that humans have to endure.

I tell her this. Here I do that again. And now I pass it on to you. Jesus lived the love of the cross, even though it costs. My Mother did, too.

Will you?

Unspoken Prayers

Many years ago I regularly attended an old-fashioned Baptist prayer meeting. One of the people there, slightly older than myself, did not pray out loud on one occasion that sticks in my memory. A comment was made to her about it. She said she did not feel like praying. That started quite a flurry of comments. She held her ground, and refused to pray words out loud despite pressure to conform to the group’s definition of prayer.

In my thoughts “Time to Pray” the seed was planted about how to define prayer. A step further takes us to the question, “How do I pray without spoken words?”

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