THANKFUL

What is the truth? No one speaks it anymore. —Jeremiah 7:38 (King Jimmy Translation)

Dachshund in Denial

“Hang on. I need this hundred-pound block of salt to go with what you just said.”

I want to say this when dealing with a known liar. Once someone is caught lying, from that moment on, everything they say is questionable. Regaining trust in them takes time, and then you’re still skeptical of what they say. Are they telling the truth, a half-truth, or peddling another whopper?

Your humble Aggie scribe recently witnessed blatant lying despite indisputable evidence to the contrary. No, I’m not referring to Congress—their half-truths are a given. I’m talking about that lying, low-down Skipper, my seven-year old dachshund. Here’s the scene.

Saturday mornings are lazy around the Aggie homestead. Mrs. Aggie gets to rest while I whip up an old-fashioned country breakfast. My queen of nearly four decades is treated to sausage or bacon, eggs, biscuits, sausage gravy [SOS] juice and coffee. In pleasant weather, I cook on the patio.

The heavy rains this recent Saturday morning forced me inside to ply my Chef Boyar-Aggie-dee skills. The aroma of sausage drew my two dachshunds, Daisy and Skipper, closer to me than Jesus.

“Don’t worry, guys’” I said to my hounds. “This sausage isn’t anyone you know.” Deep down, I believe even if this sausage was one of their pooch friends, they wouldn’t care.

“Soup’s on, babe,” I called to Mrs. Aggie, as she stretched from her restful slumber. “Come and get it.”

Skipper and Daisy danced around my feet. “I didn’t mean you two to come and get it.” I just shook my head, but to be fair, my dogs are still working on understanding English.

The hungry dachshunds—are they never not-hungry? —scurried around my feet, praying I would drop my plate on the way to the table. They refused to join paws with me to give thanks for the bountiful food and the safe trip to the dining room. Just as I asked the Lord to bless the precious, anointed, most talented hands that prepared this food, Mrs. Aggie yelled from the back of the house.

“Jimmy!” It was a call of distress.

I instinctively jumped into my knight-in-shining-armor suit and charged to the back of the house to slay the dragon that threatened my beloved.

“Baby,” I said, holding my hand over my heart, trying to catch my breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she looked up calmly like what’s the big deal. “I just said I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh . . . okay.” Relieved, I headed back to the table. “Better hurry. I might eat it all.”

The whole my-fair-lady-rescue episode lasted less than twenty seconds. I returned to the dining room only to find the real dragon, Skipper, standing in my chair, front paws on the table, gobbling my breakfast as if he were coming off a nine-week fast.

“You rotten fleabag,” I muttered under my breath. The temptation to turn him into an elongated throw rug grew stronger as I moved in quietly behind him. Daisy mouthed to Skipper, “Hey, I ain’t going down with you,” and took off.

“Skipper!” I yelled, shaking my finger at him. “Bad dog. Bad dog!” I caught him red-pawed.

He spun around and immediately assumed his paws up—don’t shoot stance. Even with his mouth covered with gravy, and sausage caught between his teeth, he repudiated any involvement with consuming my breakfast. “It wasn’t me, Dad. I swear.” He looked me in the eye. “Honest, I’m just as surprised as you are that someone ate your breakfast.”

Daisy sat in the corner, singing—^♪Skipper’s going to time-out ^♫ Skipper’s going to time-out^♫

Skipper’s denial of the truth reminded me of ancient Judah when she wandered from God. Despite his repeated pleads for Judah’s repentance or face impending disaster, the nation took for granted God’s abundant blessings and favor. Jeremiah described them as such: “This is a nation whose people will not obey the Lord their God and who refuse to be taught. Truth has vanished from among them; it is no longer heard on their lips.” (Jeremiah 7:28)

People wonder how Judah could be destroyed so easily, especially after witnessing Israel fall into captivity. Both nations shared a common sin that brought about their demise.

The apostle Paul saw the same ungodly conditions during his lifetime. In his letter to his buddies in Rome, he plainly stated: these people exchange the truth of God for a lie. (Romans 1:25) The philosophy of relativism, which God calls a spirit of delusion, was prominent in Rome and most of the ancient world.

Today, this spirit has craftily disguised itself as individual freedoms to express yourself.

Living in the world of relativism requires one to ignore God’s principles so that the truth will be whatever one wants it to be.

Reality? Meh! There is no right or wrong, just whatever you want it to be.

Left is now right, up is now down.

Absolutes? Oh, that’s so 1950s. Truth is whatever you want it to be.

Feelings reign over all decisions. This is nothing more than a delusional spirit that the very-real devil sends out to deceive folks.

Those who oppose relativism are labels as bigots, intolerant, judgmental—whatever. What society calls truth, I call insanity. Can someone explain how one is “gender-fluid?”

• A man says he is a woman, because he says so
• A person insists they are a different race, because they say so
• For the atheists, there is no God, because they say so, and we’ll sue you bigoted Evangelicals for shoving your values down our throats!
• For the religious, all religions lead to God, because they say so.
• Me? Need Jesus? Why? I’m a good, moral person.

The list is endless. These lies may deceive people for a while, but they are still lies. Truth is not truth just because the majority repeatedly insist it is true.

People argue, “Jesus, you should have come in today’s era, not some backward time in Middle Eastern history.” But the world’s condition that Jesus entered then is the same as today.

Here are timeless truths, according to God’s word.

• Jesus came to save sinners. (1 Timothy 1:15)
• Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world but to save the world. (John 3:17)
• Jesus came to offer his life for the sins of mankind. (Matthew 26:28)
• Jesus said you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. (John 8:32)
• Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to God the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)

And to demonstrate to the world that Jesus is the Truth, God resurrected Jesus from the grave on Easter Sunday.

That’s the truth . . . even for the gender-fluid.

Lord, as we walk hand-in-hand with you on our journey of faith, you lead us into all truth, lighting our paths with your grace.

Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

P.S. Despite his denials, I believe Skipper hid my underwear in the sofa when Mrs. Aggie hosted the ladies Bible study in our home.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Nothing convinces me otherwise. Not the pleasures of life, nor the threats of death, no angelic or demonic power, not my past and certainly not my future, no destructive powers—nothing can separate me from God’s love found in Jesus our Lord. —Romans 8:38 (King Jimmy Translation)

“The Right Solution”

One of the benefits of retirement is spending time with the grandkids. I enjoy picking up our ten-year old granddaughter, Kennedy, after school and staying with her until her mom or dad came home.

Note: Little did I realize how my racing career would help me. Mothers battling for position in line to pick up the kids makes the Daytona 500 look like a Sunday drive.

After Kennedy takes a short break to unwind from the pressures of the fifth-grade, we review her homework. One afternoon, her teacher sent home pre-test questions in history and science to answer.

“This is your lucky day, Kennedy,” I said. “I’m gonna help you with these questions.” Your humble Aggie scribe wanted to show Kennedy that her writer grandfather was smarter than a fifth-grader.

“Uh . . . okay . . .” She avoided eye contact. Her voice trailed off. “I . . . guess it’s . . .okay.”

We each answered the questions and then compared the results.

Concerning Columbus discovery of the New World:

Where was Columbus trying to reach when he discovered the New World?

• Kennedy: India
• Jimmy:  Cleveland

Name three artifacts archeologists discovered that Columbus brought to the New World?

• K: Bible, gun powder, books
• J: Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders, Rush Limbaugh

What caused the death of thousands of natives after Columbus arrived in the New World?

• K: Their immune system could not fight off the diseases the Europeans brought.
• J: Global warming.

Concerning Science

What is a mixture?

• K: Two substances that are combined but are not dissolved and can be separated.
• J: A group of people attracted to each other and meet after work for drinks.

What is a solvent?

• K: A substance [liquid] that will dissolve another substance
• J: That stuff they put in margaritas that make you want more than six.

Describe a solution.

• K: A solution is a liquid in which a substance has been dissolved and the substances cannot be separated, like sugar in tea.
• J: Sucking in my stomach to make my chest look bigger, turning me into a chick magnet around women.

“Oh, I like your answers much better,” Kennedy said. “I’ll turn them in.”

“That’s great, honey,” I had to wonder, though—She wasn’t being sarcastic, was she?

Her pre-test questions caused me think of another solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem.

God created a perfect world. He took time to personally form his most majestic creation, man, from the dust of the ground. God breathed into man his breath, his spirit, and man became a living being. Then God outdid himself: he created his most exquisite being, woman. Adam was never the same, constantly sucking in his belly.

Adam and Eve lived in perfect harmony in the Garden of Eden. Every day, they and God hung out, delighting in each other’s company, living in absolute freedom. Fear, doubt, shame, prejudice, bigotry, pride—all consequences of sin—were nonexistent.

God gave Adam only one commandment: “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden, but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.” (Genesis 2:7) [emphasis mine]

Wouldn’t you know it? Adam couldn’t follow God’s only rule. The devil duped Adam and Eve into believing that they would be like God if they ate the forbidden fruit.

Big awakening. Big disappointment.

God cannot tolerate any sin, no matter how trivial it may seem to us. All sin is major to a holy and righteous God. In his sovereign justice, all sin must be punished.

When Adam and Eve disobeyed God, their relationship changed. Man immediately realized the consequence of disobedience. God’s spirit, which lived within him, was no longer there. This separation from God was the death God warned them about. Man needed a solution to escape his fallen state and get back to God. As his spiritual consciousness deadened, he realized how hopeless he was.

Although God is the righteous judge, he is also a merciful Savior. He had a solution to man’s sin problem. He would lay all sin on sinless Jesus and then pour out his holy wrath on his only Son. Man would swap his sin for Jesus’ righteousness. In return, Jesus would take all the punishment for mankind’s sin on himself.

Did you get that? God’s solution for sin was for Jesus to absorb all sin.

The world’s sins.

My sins.

Your sins.

To prove Jesus paid the price for sin, God resurrected him to life on Easter Sunday. When we place our faith in Jesus, we become one with him. Like Kennedy’s example of a solution is tea or coffee in water cannot be separated, nothing can separate us from Christ love. God promises that nothing—not troubles, hardships, persecution, homelessness, threats of violence, lies and false accusations—nothing will separate us from God’s love. (Romans 8:35) How comforting is this promise? When the Devil throws everything at us trying to make something stick, he fails to separate us from Christ’ love.

Now that is the right solution.

Lord, may we walk confidently in faith and be bold to share your message of grace, knowing nothing will ever separate us from your love.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. Give examples of substances dissolving to make an irreversible solution.

K: Tea, coffee, salt dissolving in water

J: The Dallas Cowboys offense dissolving trying to win a playoff game.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Unless the Lord God is the chief architect of the house, man’s efforts are futile.

—Psalm 127:1 (King Jimmy Translation)

Celebrating the Fourth of July

Our country’s birthday is celebrated every July 4^th, in remembrance of when we declared our independence from Britain in 1776. Folks will cookout, maybe shoot off fireworks, or spend the day at the lake. Few know that a mere eleven years later, in 1787, the new nation was on the brink of falling apart. Let me explain.

The First Continental Congress [Philadelphia Congress], met in 1774. Benjamin Franklin, one of the Founding Fathers, summoned delegates from the thirteen colonies to discuss the colonies possible responses to the tax abuses by the Crown [British rule] imposed on the colonies, mainly the Providence of Massachusetts, for its role in the Boston Tea Party. This congress was divided between those loyal to the Crown and those wanting to break away and declare independence.

By the time the second Continental Congress met on July 2, 1776, the Crown’s harsher mandates on the colonies drove them to formulate a declaration for independence from Britain. On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was unanimously approved and famously signed. Thus, the birth of United State of America. This congress wrote the Articles of Confederation, which governed the new country through the Revolutionary War. The congress, now called the Congress of the Confederation, met from 1781 to 1789.

After the war, the articles were insufficient to unify the new country, since each state had its own agenda. The threat that the new country would unravel so soon after such a valiant effort of blood, toil, and sacrifice would be a tragedy of freedom.

In May of 1787, the congress met in Philadelphia to make amendments to the Articles of Confederation, attempting to unify the nation. Delegates disagreed on many issues, as the northern states had sharp disputes with the southern states. Gridlock brought the convention to a halt.

History labels 250 men as the Founding Fathers. Some are well known, while others remain footnotes in history. However, they shared one common virtue: they were religious men who deeply honored the Bible.

Although well respected, Benjamin Franklin ranked near the top of the least religious of the Founding Fathers. During the proceedings, he sat patiently, observing the debates, noting the

constant bickering and disrespect shown toward one another. Does this sound familiar? Finally, he had enough of this nonsense.

In his only recorded speech at the Constitutional convention, Franklin put things in perspective. Listen to his words of wisdom from a man not remembered for his perfect Sunday school attendance.

 “Gentlemen, in this situation of this Assembly, groping as it were, in the dark to find political truth, and scare able to distinguish it when presented to us, how has it happened, sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights, to illuminate our understanding?

“In the beginning of the conquest with Great Britain, when we were sensible of danger, we had daily prayer in this room for Divine protection. Our prayers were heard, and they were graciously answered.

“All of us engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. And now have we forgotten this powerful Friend? Or do we imagine we no longer need His assistance?

“I have lived, sir, a long time, and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth—that God governs the affairs of men.

“If a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid? We have been assured in the Sacred Writings that ‘except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain to build it. I firmly believe this; and I also believe without His concurring we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel, and we shall become a reproach and a byword down to future ages.

“I therefore beg leave to move that, henceforth, prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven and on our deliberations, be held in this assembly every morning before we proceed to business.”

After Franklin’s speech, Congress took a three-day break to seek God’s wisdom. They returned after praying, to wordsmith and finalize the greatest document of freedom the world has known: The Constitution of the United State. It was sent to the states for ratification.

Franklin, like all people at that time, was raised studying the Bible. It was the primary textbook in the schools. Because of his Bible understanding, Franklin may have saved the Republic.

Eleven years earlier, in that same hall in Philadelphia, the Founding Fathers called on God daily. After their victory against the British Crown, they grew lax in calling upon God. As a result, they fell into chaos and bickering. Again—sound familiar?

On July 8, 1788 the new constitution is put into place of the United States of America.

On March 2, 1789, the Continental Congress held its last meeting at Fraunces Tavern in New York.

On March 4, 1789, the First Congress of the United States began at Federal Hall in Philadelphia.

On April 30, 1789 George Washington is inaugurated as the first President of the United States.

Current-day naysayers dishonor our founding fathers, falsely labeling them as bigots or racists. They had their flaws, as we all do, but when imperfect people humble themselves and call upon a perfect God, he moves in miracle ways. Although we are an imperfect people, we are still the greatest nation in history. We are exceptional because we were founded on godly principles and God’s word, with his blessings. Accept nothing less.

Lord, we thank you for the blessings of living in America. We love our country and pray, that as a nation, we repent and return to you and seek your guidance. May we continually call on you.

 Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

P.S. History reveals Congress voted to move from Fraunces Traven in New York to Philadelphia because they had better cheese steak sandwiches.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Whatever tasks you are called to do, honor the Lord by doing your best. You are really ministering to the Lord when you do. —Colossians 3:23 (King Jimmy Translation)

“Be an Oak, Not a Hackberry Tree”

In the Bible, the books of Daniel and Revelation offer the reader a peek into the activities on the other side. Although they lived thousands of years apart, the prophet Daniel and the apostle John described the same scene: “Thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand.”

For years, your humble Aggie scribe thought the numberless multitude depicted referred to the redeemed saints worshipping God in Heaven, with one hand raised in praise, the other holding a Frappuccino. (I made up that last part.)

I could have been wrong. Perhaps Daniel and John prophesied about the thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand of acorns that drop from the oak tree in my front yard every other year.

Squirrels love this tree. In the squirrel religious community, every squirrel, unless ran over while playing dodge-car, must make a pilgrimage to the Aggie’s oak tree and pay homage to the Dome of the Golden Acorn.

When Mrs. Aggie and I planted the oak twenty-eight years ago, we never dreamed that within our lifetime this sapling would tower over the house. This massive oak is home to birds, squirrels, lizards, and creatures that come out only on Halloween. It shades nearly the entire front yard. One year, a tire-swing hung for the neighborhood kids.

However, there are drawbacks. Tree trimming occurs every year. Leaves are a problem, and keeping the gutters clean is a constant chore. But worst of all, as previously mentioned, every two years, the fruit-of-the-oak—acorns—fall like the rains that floated Noah’s Ark. During the Year of the Acorn, I daily sweep them into a trash bag that will be carried to the landfill.

One day, as I grumbled about sweeping the annoying acorns off the driveway, I realized our massive oak tree began as a small acorn. I held up the acorn between my thumb and index finger. It seemed insignificant. I never thought twice about the thousands of acorns I discarded.

My constant companion, the Holy Spirit, spoke to me. What you hold in your hand has the potential to be a massive oak, even bigger than the one in your yard. I have placed inside the acorn everything it needs to be successful.

You’re right, Lord, I said. I’m holding the future home to squirrels, birds, unwanted creatures, even a tire swing.

Just like every acorn has potential, my most cherished creation, man, has unlimited capacity for greatness, the Lord said. Yet man doesn’t see the potential he possesses. That includes you, Aggie.

The Lord reminded me I was like an acorn. Are you calling me a nut, Lord? I said, hoping he would be kind while teaching me another life lesson.

It’s a given you’re a little nutty, the Lord said. I placed within you everything you need to be great. When you partner with me, your possibilities are unlimited, he reassured me. Of course, I didn’t create everyone to be a rocket scientist, or a neurosurgeon, but I placed within everyone the potential to be everything I created them to be. The Lord sighed. Sadly, so many miss it.

One of David’s Psalms came to mind: How can my praise remain silent since you have so amazingly and extraordinarily created me. My soul rejoices in your miraculous powers working within me. (Psalm 139:14)

Your God-given destiny may be a school teacher, but the influence you have on the children has the potential to give the world another Dr. Jonas Salk or a Dr. Ben Carson. Your interest in drawing may lead you to become the next Rembrandt. Your compassionate heart may awaken the Florence Nightingale within you.

You may be called to lead a prayer group, or teach a Sunday school class. Your destiny may be toiling in obscurity to help and care for the hopeless, the addict, and the homeless, in the streets of a third-world country—or in your neighborhood. The Father may give you the boldness to stand on the street corner in a Muslim neighborhood, proclaiming Jesus as the Way, the Truth and the Life, or he may call you as a missionary to a remote area of Siberia.

Your destiny may simply be to encourage others and brighten their day as you are obedient in God’s leading. Or maybe just write silly stories trying to make a spiritual impact.

Please don’t overlook a most important destiny—to become the best mother and father, or grandparent, and raise healthy, well-adjusted children who have a heart for God and loves others.

Whatever God’s will for us, the Father desires to help us to fulfill our destinies for His glory. Who cares if the world views our achievements as menial? In the Father’s eyes, they are monumental. Pay no attentions to those going through life with no direction, oblivious to the potential God placed within them. Author friend, Frank Ball, states it clearly: “We’re tempted to judge success by the world’s standards. When we worry about what people will think, we can lose sight of how easily we please the Lord with our effort.”

I get what you’re saying Lord. He made his point. You created me with everything I need to become a mighty oak.

That’s right, Aggie, the Lord said. Partner with me to become that mighty oak. Then he warned: Otherwise, you could end up a Hackberry tree.

Lord God, let us seek after you, to know your heart to unleash the potential in us to be everything you created us to be.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. Mrs. Aggie and I are grateful we bought the oak and didn’t fall for that tempting special: “Buy one Hackberry Tree, get two free.”

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Most important of all, keep God, his righteousness and his kingdom first in your heart, and God will meet all your needs. — Matthew 6:33 (King Jimmy Translation)

“Keeping Him Number One”

At the end of the 2016 Presidential elections, the American people elected Anita Mann as the first woman President. She called her father with the good news.

“Dad,” the President-elect said, “I’ve been elected President of the United States. You and mom must come to Washington for the inauguration.”

“Oh, that’s nice, honey, being elected President and all.” He paused. “I don’t know, sweetie. That’s a long drive, at least thirty hours, and at our age, we don’t travel well.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Anita said. “I’ll send a limo and charter a private jet for you and mom to come to the inauguration.”

“But we don’t have any fancy clothes,” her dad said. “and what will your momma wear?”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” the President-elect said. “I will dress you and mom in the finest clothes.”

“But the food is so rich, and with my stomach troubles, I just can’t eat all that fancy stuff you folks eat up in Washington.”

President-elect Mann refused to accept her dad’s excuses. “I’ll have gluten-free, salt-free meals prepared for you and momma. Daddy, you gotta come see me inaugurated.”

“Okay, honey,” he said. “We’ll come if you insist.”

On January 20, 2017, the new President’s mom and dad sat on the front row, watching history unfold before them. Their daughter, Anita Mann, would be sworn in as the first woman President of the United States.

Dad, seated next to a prominent Senator, leaned over and whispered to the law-maker. “You see that lady up there with her hand on the Bible?”

“The President?” the Senator whispered. “Yes, I do.”

Dad’s chest swelled with pride where he nearly popped the buttons off his new tuxedo shirt. “Her brother plays football for Texas A&M.”

Disclaimer: Before Mrs. Aggie, my two daughters, my three granddaughters, my sister, my lady relatives, and my lady friends everywhere shoot more cannon-balls at me than fired on Fort Sumter, accusing me of being a misogynist, sexist, or anti-female, let me explain. This is a story about priorities, not male oppression.

Besides the dad in our silly story, and your humble Aggie scribe, how many Christ-followers can honestly raise their holy hands to admit they routinely have their priorities out of order? Come on, raise your hand with me. You know you do.

God gave the Ten Commandments as a guideline to show what he requires for righteousness. A quick reading of the Commandments reveals it is impossible to keep them. He made his priorities unmistakably clear in his first commandment:

Number One: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall not have any other gods before Me

—Exodus 20:1

God stated it was he, the great I AM, who freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. Moses led them, but it was God who delivered them by his mighty acts.

To further emphasize he wasn’t kidding about that no-other-gods thing, God’s second commandment backed up his first:

Number Two: You shall not make for yourself a carved image—any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; you shall not bow down to them nor serve them.

— (Exodus 20:4)

After I became a Christ-follower, I learned how serious God takes idol worship. He warned that not all idols are made of wood or stone, or looks like a cow [longhorn] or fish or freaky imagination from a pagan mind. An idol is anything that takes priority over God in my life.

For years, my life revolved around my racing career. I devoted all my efforts, my attention—every waking hour—to making a name for myself in the drag racing world. Far from God, I followed and worshipped the god of drag racing. After accepting God’s grace that he extended to me, I realized how I’d trample on the first commandment.

Years later, I fell into the trap of overworking that often let work take precedence over time with God. I thought being a workaholic was noble since it provided more funds to support my family. Unfortunately, working long hours robbed God of the time we spent together.

God is serious about wanting all our attention and affections. Anything—no matter how honorable, or anyone—no matter how precious to me—that replaces God on the throne of my life, he identifies as an idol. He demands to be my fulltime God. If God is not number one in my life, I’m guilty of breaking the first commandment. And if I break one commandment, the Bible says I’m guilty of breaking all the commandments (James 2:10).

Here is the recurring problem: I cannot keep the first commandment. Despite good intentions and conscious efforts, I allow my affections to be steered off-track. Before realizing it, I’ve moved God from the top shelf of my life to a place cluttered with my desires, my wishes, my will over God’s will. It happens gradually, as my time with him becomes less.

Again, I’m in another pickle.

Again, Heaven’s court must declare me guilty of breaking all the commandments.

Good news. Enter Jesus. His atoning sacrifice for my sins paid the debt I owed God for not keeping him number one. Jesus amazing grace enables your humble Aggie scribe to stay in right relationship with our heavenly father. When God is number one, all other relationships fall into their proper place.

More good news. He offers the same grace to you, too, for failing to keep him number one. If you haven’t already, be sure to take him up on it.

Lord, may we be so in love with you that keeping you number one is the joy of our lives.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. Before entering politics, Anita Mann operated a successful ladies online dating service.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Lord, may your Holy Spirit guard my mouth, so that my words will not bring shame to the Kingdom of God. —Psalm 141:3 (King Jimmy Translation)

“Making a Good Impression on Your Parole Officer”

“You have a gentleman here to see you,” Kathy said.

Hummm. What’s with that? Her voice sounded deadpan, not her usual cheerful self that greeted me when I returned to the office an hour earlier.

“Okay, be right there.”

The first person anyone encountered when they entered the building was Kathy, the “Director of First Impressions.” Her bright smile, gentle voice and warm personality instantly made the most obnoxious widgets salesman or hopeful employment applicant be at ease. But her tone indicated something was wrong.

When I turned the corner to the lobby, I saw him waiting for me, decked out in his cheap sports coat and wrinkled tie.

“Aw, man!” My shoulders slumped and I shook my head. “How’d you find me?” Your humble Aggie scribe faced the wall across from Kathy’s desk, spread eagle, and waited to be frisked, as if this was regular event.

He frisked me with more energy than a TSA agent trying to make his quota.

I felt the oxygen in the entire building being sucked out by Kathy’s gasp. “Oh, my. Oh, my!” reverberated off the cubicles walls.

“Okay, you’re clean,” he said.

I turned around to see Kathy standing, whiter than fresh snow, hand over her opened mouth in apparent disbelief.

Like two fighters before a match, my frisker and I faced each other for several seconds. I was the first to smile.

He gave me a bear hug that nearly squeezed the lunchtime chili out of me and slapped me on the shoulder. “Big guy!” he said.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Tom?”

We laughed like two giddy sophomores at their first school dance. I turned to our confused Kathy, “This is my best buddy, Tom. I’ve told you about him, remember?”

We duped her.

Her countenance changed from “What is going on here,” to “Oh, I see your twisted deceit” But that quickly turned to “Aggie, you have no idea how miserable I’m gonna make you for tricking me!”

I realized the magnitude of my screw-up. My humorous introduction of Tom to Kathy failed restore her sweet, gentle disposition. Like an annoyed elementary school teacher, her furrowed eyebrows, piercing brown eyes and nervously tapping foot demanded an explanation—and it had better be good.

Unbeknownst to me, after Tom checked in with Kathy, and when asked the purpose of his visit, Tom, in his best Sergeant Joe Friday’s impersonation, replied, “I’m his parole officer. He’s a convicted felon avoiding me.”

For reasons I will never know until I reach Heaven, when I turned the corner and saw Tom, I immediately went into the spread-eagle formation. Some may call it karma, some call it coincidence. “Oh, man,” I said, trying to suppress my laughter from our fuming Kathy. “I can’t believe I did that.” It was a crazy phenomenon. (Hopefully it will create a good story.)

“I’m sorry, Kathy,” Tom said, “but your expression was priceless.” He leaned over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then I frisked you.” A normal person would have mistaken his doubled-over laughter to that of a harbor seal begging for mullets.

She glared at Tom. “So, you’re not Jimmy’s parole officer?” Her serious voice began to lighten up. “All this is a joke, right?” Kathy’s eyes zeroed in on me. “You’re not a felon, a parolee?”

“No, dear. I’m not.” I couldn’t help but giggle again how we hoodwinked her, but I needed to soothe her ruffle feathers. “Tom and I always joke around like this, Kathy. That spread-eagle was spontaneous.”

She halfway rolled her eyes. “I ought to slap you all the way to El Paso!” Her slight smirk and playful wink assured me I was forgiven. “You guys!” From that day forward, Kathy called Tom my parole officer.

Whether it is fair or not, life gives us one chance to make a first impression. How do we make sure that first impression is a good one? A pleasant tone and a good attitude helps. Unfortunately, a bad first impression is difficult to overcome. Even if I’m having a bad day, some people will never change their minds, since once a word is spoken, or in my case as a stutterer—spoken repeatedly—or an action taken, it’s impossible to rewrite the script.

In a courtroom, when a witness makes an irrelevant statement showing bias or favoritism, the judge orders the jury to ignore that comment. But that doesn’t work. It’s already spoken.

The Bible speaks clearly about the power of our words? What I say either builds up, like a good first impression, or tears down, like a not-so-good first impression. If my words reveal the character of my heart, what do I advertise to the world?

What signal am I sending if I’m constantly bickering, quarreling, or constantly complaining? Do I show contempt to my coworkers? Or do I readily give my juicy tidbits to the gossip group around the water cooler? How would I influence someone for Christ if I exhibited conduct that reflected the devil and I were buddies? Wrong impressions. Who would listen to me share the grace of God when my actions are 180 degrees opposite?

Talk about power. Just by our words, we can destroy someone without laying a finger on them.

But what impression am I sending when my words are seasoned with grace, my tone friendly, and my expressions kind— “Welcome, you’re safe and accepted.” The wisdom of the ancient sage found in Proverbs 18:21 is relevant today: my words bring life to the broken, give hope to the downtrodden, and soothe those wounded spirits desperately seeking comfort.

Talk about power. Just by our words, we can influence someone to seek God and turn their life around for eternity.

Lord, may our words be what you would say to those who you bring into our world. May our words and actions reflect your love and grace.

Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

P.S. When Tom and I first met, we had a wrong impression of each other. I thought he was a minister. He thought I was a p-p-public a-a-announcer.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

I will exalt in you, Oh Lord, for your divine protection covers me completely. —Psalm5:11 (King Jimmy Translation)

“Don’t Curry—Be Happy!”

I met my retired Navy buddy, Bruce, a.k.a., the Admiral, for lunch. At a previous luncheon, he introduced your humble Aggie scribe to sushi. I barely survived that near-death experience.

During his Navy career, the Admiral sailed the four corners of the earth. His palate has savored delicacies from Greece to Indonesia to Dadgum, Oklahoma. Before that harrowing sushi incident, my diet ranged from Mrs. Aggie’s world famous macaroni and cheese to the chili hot dogs off the catering truck.

“I want to take you to a special place in Coppell,” the Admiral said as we sped in and out of traffic. “I remember this place as being exceptional.”

After the sushi episode, I silently questioned his definition of “exceptional.”

“This is a fine Mediterranean restaurant,” he said.

We drove in circles for some time. The scenery repeated itself.

“You sure it wasn’t Carrollton?” I said. “How about Conroe? Copperas Cove?” Hunger pangs made me tacky. “Maybe this Medi place closed and is now a check-cashing store.”

After what seemed like the re-enactment of the Israelites’ forty-year wandering in the wilderness, Bruce threw his hands up. “I give up. Let’s do Indian,” and pulled into the parking lot of an Indian cuisine.

The moment we entered the Paradise Biriyani Pointe Indian cuisine, I felt like I’d walked into a nuclear blast. My gut warned me: Hey, you thought sushi was bad? I loosen the collar on my tee-shirt.

After being seated, Bruce ordered a drink and asked the waiter to bring me a Mango Lassi.

Mango Lassi? What does Lassie have to do with this? A by-product?

The Admiral handed me some napkins to dry my eyes and damp my sweaty hair. “You’re gonna love this food.”

The waiter brought a yellowish substance in a tall glass. It poured as easily as gear oil in the Antarctic.

I closed my eyes and took a sip. Not bad. Kinda tasty. But I couldn’t look at it.

“Come on,” the Admiral waved. “Let’s hit the buffet.”

“You know I have Crohn’s Disease, don’t you?” It was too late. The admiral disappeared in the crowd around the buffet.

I circled the buffet from a distance. I need my eyes checked. The entrées seem to be wiggling. When I moved closer, I noticed no burners underneath the food trays, yet steam rose from the foods, fogging my glasses. Was this buffet the source of global warming? Never again, I vowed, will I go to lunch with the Admiral without bringing my welding gloves.

A sign over the buffet stated: Paradise Biriyani Pointe~~Indian Food Redefined.

I wonder what the food was like before it needed new definitions? I sighed and stared through the window at the Whataburger across the street.

Reality returned. I examined the buffet items again. A steamed rice base should be safe, I thought. Hummm. What are those little brown flakes in the rice?

I have never seen chicken pakora at KFC but scooped it up and plopped it onto the rice. This couldn’t be worse than sushi.

I chose some mild-looking flat bread and carefully picked out vegetables that appeared harmless. Something that resembled mashed potatoes didn’t look too life-threatening, so I shoveled it onto the plate.

People shoved me out of the way to get to the next item: Kadai Goat Curry.

I faced a goat-or-no-goat decision. All these folks can’t be wrong, can they? The longer I stared at the steaming goat, the more it seemed to be calling my name. Bible people ate goat, didn’t they? Should I Aggie-up and try the Kadai Goat, or use common sense and flee to the IHOP next door? The wellbeing of my Crohn’s Disease rested on my decision. My “inspirational-story-writer” Jimmy made a valid point: Maybe if I eat the goat it will make a good story . . . then again. I made my decision—you’re reading this story, aren’t you?

Before I realized, the goat jumped out of the food tray and onto my plate. I didn’t have the heart to tell my stomach what lay ahead. It would find out soon enough.

Bruce waited for me at the table.

“I demand we seek God before eating.” I prayed aloud, hoping that would help.

Everything scorched my taste buds, especially the safe rice with the little brown flakes. Taking small bites of the chicken and quickly swallowing didn’t help either. The mashed-potato-looking substance tasted like cardboard. Don’t ask how I know what cardboard tastes like. That’s another story.

In the meantime, Bruce attacked his plate as if he were born and raised in Calcutta.

Oh, Lord, I prayed, before taking my first bite of curry-laden goat, please don’t let this goat be someone I knew or have worked with.

The stringy goat meat scorched my nose-hairs and blackened my teeth. As the salty sweat that ran down my face, I whispered repeatedly, “This is a Big Mac.” After the first swallow, my stomach Tweeted my brain: @sensitivestomach You’re with the Admiral again, aren’t you?

“You’re not cleaning your plate,” Bruce said as steam rolled off his head.

God’s grace gave me supernatural restraint since Bruce was my ride home. I looked through the window at Rosa’s Café down the street.

As I picked at the food before me, I wondered if the Corinthian believers felt this way. The Apostle Paul instructed the Corinthian Christ-followers how to act when dining out. He said to “eat whatever is put before you and don’t worry if it was offered to idols. Besides, man-made idols are wimps.” (1 Corinthians 10:17) Pagans sacrificed to their idols and then sold the meats in the markets. Corinthian believers wouldn’t touch that meat with a ten-foot fork.

The Holy Spirit brought another Scripture to mind, Psalm 5:11—God will cover us with his protection when we need it the most.

My biggest concern was that the Curse of the Curry would attack my Crohn’s Disease, which God put in remission. I wanted to keep it that way. Because of God’s protection, my Crohn’s-laden digestive tract could sing, Don’t curry—be happy! ♫

Lord, when we need it the most, your protection is overwhelming. Thank you.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. The waiter placed a yellow Caution Wet Floor safety cone beside the table. The sweat pouring from my head created a puddle on the floor.

P.P.S. The management and wait staff service at Paradise Biriyani Pointe were outstanding and made dining there a fun experience. Their hospitality is second to none.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

God blesses those whose hearts are pure, the Holy Spirit will open their eyes to see God working all around them—Matthew 5:8 (King Jimmy Translation).

“Here Comes da Judge”

Since I retired in 2015, your humble Aggie scribe has fallen into a lunchtime routine of watching the wheels of justice roll out liberty and justice for all. However, watching The People’s Court, Judge Judy, or Judge Joe Brown, while consuming a can of mini ravioli or eating a baloney sandwich, does not help digestion. If anything, watching these courtroom dramas accelerates digestion.

In these shows, the plaintiff and the defendant present their differences, exposing each other’s dirty laundry and darkest secrets before a national audience. The manners in which these individuals air their grievances makes me wonder how they get out of bed each morning. Their display of ignorance about life and dealing with others is baffling.

In a recent episode, one party sued to get their money refunded from a car deal gone bad. He bought the car “as is” and then sued the seller because the vehicle did not have an engine. Common sense would dictate to lift the hood and inspect the engine. Or ask, “Hey, mind if I take it for a test push around the block?” Really.

Another case involved a woman who sued a taxi driver for throwing her and her boyfriend out after they “got frisky” in the back seat.

This next case took the top prize for absurdity. A man sued his former girlfriend for rent after they broke up, yet they still shared the same apartment. She moved her new boyfriend into the apartment and expected her new lover to pay her share of the rent, but he refused. I mean, this insanity is just total (fill in the blank).

The apparent lack of concern for displaying one’s stupidity and absence of judgement before the world is troublesome. What have we become as a society? Is common sense on permanent vacation? More important, why do I watch such nonsense daily?

Make me Judge Jimmy, I thought. I’ll show them ignorant varmints a thing or two.

What cruel punishment could I inflict upon them so they learn their lesson? What chastisement matches their heinous crimes? Lock them in a 6 X 10 cell with nothing but a Cambridge Dictionary of American English, and a Roget’s Thesaurus. That should convert them from a life of crime to a literate, well-spoken, contributing member of society when paroled fifty years later.

The Holy Spirit, who resides within me, shook his head. Hey, Aggie. (The Holy Spirit affectionately calls me Aggie—at least, I think it’s affectionate.) What about forgiveness? Have you not heard of grace? Why not give someone a new start in life, despite one major screw-up followed by another? And how about offering mercy instead of condemnation for their poor choices that derailed their life.

I corrected the Holy Spirit at this point. You saw what those bamboozlers did and then had the nerve to display their stupidity before everyone. There are consequences to their actions, you know. I knew God would understand my point of view. They got the punishment they deserved.

The Holy Spirit sighed. I wasn’t talking about them, Aggie. I was talking about you.

What! I felt the Lord put his arm around my shoulder.

Let’s review one of my Beatitudes, shall we? Pay attention.

Okay, Lord. I hung my head. I’m listening.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Matthew 5:8). Before you hammer others about their failure, do you remember yours—you know, before I came charging onto the scene to rescue you? You were exactly like those folks on TV, clueless about the truths of life, oblivious of your spiritual poverty. Your heart—that place where your thoughts, will and desires reside—wasn’t pure. Your facade kept you from seeing me working around you to get your attention.

I remember those days like they were last week. I enjoyed life, but it seemed I always chased pleasures that never brought lasting satisfaction. I functioned quite well in society, and gave the impression I had it all together, with my racing career, my popularity, my job, my friends. My fun-loving nature and acerbic tongue hid my internal fears. I probably would have won an Emmy for Outstanding Aggie Actor Hiding-Behind-a-Facade in Judge Joe Brown’s courtroom, wouldn’t I, Lord?

You were a mess, but then you went “Hank Williams” on me.

Huh? Whatcha mean, Lord?

Have you forgotten, Aggie? You “Saw the Light.”

I rolled my eyes. I can’t believe how corny you get sometimes, Jesus. I’m supposed to be the humorist, remember?

I revealed my grace and offered you forgiveness and a new life, Jesus said. But don’t think you did it on your own. In the devil’s courtroom, he would have thrown you under the slammer. In Heaven’s courtroom, you also would have been found guilty if not for your lawyer, Jesus. You were declared innocent when He paid for your crimes against me. He received the punishment you deserved.

Sorry, Lord, is all I could say. I won’t be so critical of those poor souls on TV.

Accepted, the Lord said.

But it’s still okay to watch these shows, isn’t it?

Jesus just rolled his eyes. I guess.

May our hearts always be pure before you, Lord, so we may feel your presence and see you working not only in our lives but in others as well.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. I liked how “Judge Jimmy” sounded. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it Lord?

Jesus just rolled his eyes.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

Jesus commands us: Go to every corner of the world and proclaim my gospel to all people—Mark 16:15 (King Jimmy Translation).

The Massage

“No Swahili Required”

(part four of four)

Sweet and Sour patted my back. “Yu turn oveh. Yu finish now.”

Do I have too? This is too heavenly.

Your humble Aggie scribe felt like a wet dishcloth. I wanted to spend the afternoon meditating on Sweet & Sour’s table, but I imagine spending the remainder of the day on his table would resemble a bill at a Trump Hotel.

“Thanks so much, my friend.” Wisdom advised me not to call him “Sweet & Sour.” Should I bow to him and spare my hand another crushing? Fortunately, this time he didn’t shatter my hand.

“Yu come bak. Make a-point-rent.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“How’d you like that,” the Admiral said. “Are you relaxed now? Your legs sturdy as sponges?”

“Well, yeah. They’re kinda wobbly,” I said. “I was a little apprehensive at first, but my guy did a good job.” I rolled my neck and shook my arms at my side. “No tense muscles anywhere.”

True to his promise, the Admiral picked up the tab.

Again, wisdom directed me to leave Sweet & Sour a considerable tip, more than the two dollars I had in mind. I envisioned him seeing the two bucks, grabbing my limp body with one hand and chunking me into the parking, saying “Have nice dey! Yu no make a-point-rent.”

The Lord and I continued our conversation as I wound my way through the neighborhood toward home. I am so relaxed, Lord. I’ll be useless the rest of the day. This would be a good excuse to put off the yard work.

You’ve got work ahead of you other than cutting the grass, Jimmy. What did I reveal to you about your hands, feet, and back?

Let’s see, Lord—you use my hands to do your work here, my feet take your message everywhere I go, and the wounds on your back set me free from fear and healing for my soul so I can do your work here. Is that about right, Lord?

Very good. You can pay attention after all, can’t you, Aggie?

Something told me the Lord would follow with this question. I took a deep breath.

So. Jesus paused a few seconds. Now that you realize you have skin in this crucifixion thing, when are you gonna step out of your complacency and start doing these things I ask of you? Remember, your part in the crucifixion includes your new responsibilities, too.

I pulled into my driveway and sat in the truck for a while, contemplating what the Lord meant. “You’re not gonna make me sell everything, learn Swahili and send me to a distant continent, are you?” I joked out loud. “You and I might have a hard time convincing Mrs. Aggie to give up these luxuries.”

No Swahili required.

Whew. That was a relief.

I’m sending you into a much bigger place to make an impact—your world.

Okay, Lord. You’re gonna have to spell this out to your Aggie servant.

Remember, you take the message of Light into the despair of this fallen world. There are folks whose life is falling apart and they need hope. That’s where I come in. I offer them hope. There are some people who, you know, life—‘stuff happens’—has hit them like a freight train. I put derailed lives onto heavenly tracks. In fact, I can make their life better than they can imagine. Keep your eyes open—I am sending some wounded souls into your path for you to show kindness. They’ve been told they’re a failure, a loser, or worse yet, an accident. They’re not! I have a purpose for their life. How will they know I can make them into a new person, give them eternal life and do all these marvelous things unless you tell them?

I remember some bleak times in my life before you stepped in, Lord. I lived in a pothole on the devil’s highway. Seemed like the devil’s eighteen-wheelers pounded my head constantly.

That’s right, Aggie. That’s what I do—put the broken back together. Now you go and tell others what I can do for them.

“I’m willing, Lord.” I said. “Maybe I should make an a-point-rent for a massage more often.”

Lord God, you have entrusted your followers to share your message of hope and forgiveness. May you find us faithful in fulfilling this holy commission. Let others see your love and grace as we bring the lost and hurting to you.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. There’s one good thing that could have happened if I became a missionary. For my readers who are blessed by my speech impediment, I learned that when you speak Swahili, you can stutter and no one would know it. All right!

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

The scourging he endured was not in vain; his wounds brought us physical and spiritual healing —Isaiah 53:5 (King Jimmy Translation).

The Massage

“Don’t Worry. I’ve Got Your Back”

(Part three of four)

Sweet & Sour finished his rhythmic thumping on my legs. Standing would be impossible on these spaghetti legs. His talented hands moved up to my lower back.

Maybe he’ll use some of those warm rocks on my back to draw out the tension. Or maybe organically-grown cucumbers. Worse-case scenario: he’d throw two stray cats on my back to duke it out.

He needed none of those. My back remained aggregate-free, vegetable-free, and feline-free as his strong hands manipulating the muscle tensions away.

“Why is my back is always sore? I play golf twice a week for exercise.”

Humph! Sweet & Sour grunted.

My arms hung limp. Here it is! I finally found my comfy spot. Why didn’t he start on my back to begin with?

Jesus and I continued our chat. Since you live in my hunka-hunka burning-love body, are you enjoying this back massage, too? When was the last time you had a back massage?

Re-rax, Jimmy, the Lord mused. Let me tell you about the last time someone massaged my back.

I’m all ears, Lord. I felt the Lord had another message for me.

As you know, Judas betrayed me. I knew he would. When I washed the disciples’ feet that night, I washed his, too.

How could you do that, Lord, knowing how he was selling you down the river? Couldn’t you have given him an ingrown toenail or a fungus? Anything?

Oh, I gave Judas something, all right, the Lord said. Forgiveness. But, that’s my grace. When the Romans sentenced me to crucifixion, Judas thought he’d gone beyond forgiveness—but he hadn’t. My forgiveness waited for his taking, but Satan blinded him and convinced him otherwise.

Wow! I received a new revelation about Jesus. I never realized that, Lord.

Before my crucifixion, that flip-flopping Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, had me scourged. This is where my back massage came into play.

Scourging was horrific. Sweet & Sour may have felt my body shutter. I’ve read articles about those whips they used—lead balls woven into the straps and bone spurs attached on the end. Each lash left contusions and ripped flesh. Oh, Lord . . .

My human side –my soul—was distressed, knowing what lay ahead, but my spirit knew I must go through this ordeal, because it was my Father’s will that I offer myself as the sacrifice for the sins of the world, even for those who hated me. That’s why I came into the world.

Sweet and Sour rapid but gentle blows soothed my back, not like the lead-weighted whip that left wounds on Jesus’ back.

The Lord continued. As the Roman soldier was about to scourge me, I told him, ‘You may think you’re scourging me, but I am actually taking your punishment so you can be forgiven and have freedom.

Wow! I raised my head, stunned. What’d he say?

“Yu okay?” Sweet & Sour asked.

“I’m fine, buddy. Sorry” I rested my head again.

The Lord continued. He didn’t know what to say. No one ever said that to him before he scourged them. When I told him I forgave him, Jesus continued, he looked at me with disbelief. ‘Who are you?’ was all he could say. He thought I was delusional and didn’t know what he was about to do.

‘You’re doing what my servant Isaiah prophesized what you would do over six hundred years ago,’ I told him. ‘Do what you have to do. I forgive you.

Again, this revelation left me dumbstruck. With each blow, I would have cursed him, his mother, his father, every sibling, even every pet he had from a goldfish to a gerbil, and all his ancestry. I would have cried out to the Father how unfairly I was treated, how this punishment was unjust, especially since my perfect behavior never wavered. As I dwelt on this false sense of righteousness, Jesus hit me with a slam-dunk statement.

What makes you different from the Roman soldier? Your sins did the same thing to me.

Wait a minute, Lord! I felt slammed to the concrete. I follow you, I live for you. You know I love you, Jesus.

I know you love me, Jimmy. The Lord reassured me. But you lash my back when your pride convinces you that you are a self-made man. You whip my back when you believe you create your blessings. Your prejudice make more lashes.

Stop, Lord! I became uncomfortable as to where the Lord was leading.

Your lies create more scars on my back. You have no idea how many stripes you leave with your complaining. When you spend more time seeking pleasure and material stuff than seeking me and my kingdom, you lay more wounds upon me.

While Sweet & Sour massaged my back, the Lord massaged the hardened parts of my heart.

But the cruelest wounds you lash on me is when you harbor unforgiveness. I took your wounds so your mind and soul could be healed of these past, present and future sins against me. The Roman soldier may have scourged me but your hand held the whip.

Oh, Lord! Forgive me. That’s all I could say to this new revelation.

Have I ever asked you to do anything I’ve never done?

No, Lord, you haven’t.

The revelation that my sins added to the severity of my Savior’s scourging ripped my heart. Jesus never cursed me, or threatened to get even. He never complained how my proxy scourging of him was unfair. He bore the brunt of punishment so that sin’s power over me was broken. As I lay on my stomach, teary eyes led to streams running down my cheeks.

“Yu aw-right?” Sweet and Sour asked. “Hit too hard? I hut yu?”

“No, you’re fine.” I said. “I just realized how badly I hurt someone I love.”

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy Eskew © 2017

P.S. “Yu pay golf tu times week?

“Yep, try to.”

“Yu no try hit 1-iron when pay golf. Bak no hut.”

(Continued)