THANKFUL

Christ has given each of us the love gift of eternal life, by the measure of his work on the cross—Ephesians 4:7 (King Jimmy Translation).

Gift of Love from the Heart

The lazy July Sunday afternoon seemed innocent enough. Football season was weeks away, so TV offered nothing worth watching. Your humble Aggie scribe’s customary Sunday afternoon nap abruptly ended when Daisy and Skipper, our two dachshunds, decided an all-out bark attack at the backyard squirrels would drive them away. Bored, your humble Aggie scribe tinkered in his garage to pass the time.

My mind wandered. Thoughts turned to Tom and Carolyn, our dearest friends. Later that night, they were flying home after a week’s stay with their son, Mark, in California, and his wife, Crystal. Is there a more heartfelt homecoming gift for weary travelers than a homemade something from the heart?

With so much idle time on my hands, my boredom devolved into temptation for mischief. Surveying the available gift-making materials in the garage, and whether by divine guidance or from a vast Aggie engineering background, a gift of love evolved. After an hour of fabrication and assembly, the love gift was carefully loaded into the truck for delivery to my friend’s Colleyville home, an affluent suburb in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

Tom and Carolyn’s upscale home sits among many with meticulously landscaped yards and flowing fountains, along a scenic tree-lined street. I backed into the driveway and unloaded their homecoming gift. After strategically positioning their present for optimal visual effects, I stood back to admire their new outhouse. My OCD assured me the quality of workmanship exceeded their homeowners’ association standards. I opened the door to position the dummy upright on the pot and placed the roll of paper in his hand. The big smile on the dummy’s face said it all: welcome home, Tom and Carolyn. Regrettably, I didn’t have an old tire to lean against the structure to match their home’s Oklahoma-themed landscaping. It’s true: a person is changed when they share a gift of love to those in need.

My phone’s Aggie War Hymn ringtone woke me—11:10 pm. From the confusion, shouting, and colloquial expressions on the other end of the line, your humble Aggie scribe deciphered threats of lawsuits and revenge, followed by what can only be described as industrial-strength belly laughter.

Tom moved the outhouse to the garage. They are gracious hosts who entertain weekly. No one came to their home without a mandatory trip to the garage to view the potty and listen to the increasingly embellished story. Guests took iPhone pictures with the dummy.

Weeks later, their daughter-in-law, Crystal, came to town. Without Carolyn’s knowledge, Tom called me with a plan, to which I eagerly agreed. He conveniently left the garage door open. I parked a few houses down and slipped in unnoticed and replaced the dummy with myself. (Carolyn and Mrs. Aggie think there’s not much difference between the two.) I called Tom. “Operation Live Dummy is a go.”

A few minutes later, I heard Tom, Carolyn, and Crystal wandered into the garage.

“Oh, my gosh!” Crystal laughed loud enough to call migrating geese. “I saw the pictures you sent. That’s hysterical.”

“Open the door,” Tom said.

I held the door from the inside.

“It won’t open.” Crystal tugged harder. “It’s stuck.”

“Sure it will. Keep trying,” Tom said.

She yanked a few more times. When I felt her giving up, I let go. She yanked the door wide open.

It’s astounding how the simple, yet intense, one-word greeting of Hey! when said unexpectedly, will cause a forty- year-old woman to vertical-jump higher than Michael Jordon. Her shriek shattered every wine glass within a three-mile radius.

Carolyn, also caught unaware, unloaded her own metaphors regarding the health and wellbeing of Tom and my posteriors. Any normal human body functions that occurred during this incident were discreetly overlooked.

Tom said he last saw Crystal heading west, running through the rose bushes of the neighborhood’s landscaped yards, followed by a flock of migrating geese.

Several years prior, Tom and Carolyn received a different love gift, but this gift wasn’t from me. I received this gift too, as have billions of others through the centuries. Our heavenly Father loves us so much that he gave us the gift of his only Son, Jesus, who paid the price of the sins of the world. The Bible says in John 3:16, God so loved the world he gave his one and only Son, that whosoever believed in him [the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross] would not perish but have everlasting life. To guarantee that we’d have eternal life with him through faith in Jesus, God raised him from the dead three days later.

I had a sin debt that one day I would have to settle the account. There was no way I could pay the price for the sin written on my life’s tab. Maybe if I performed a few good works, like give a little money to charity, or rescue kittens out of trees, or help old ladies across the street, these noble deeds would erase those sin debts. These acts of goodness, however, failed to cancel any of my debts. Only Jesus paid the price for the sins I’d recorded in my life’s story. Jesus picked up the tab and paid it himself. I humbly accepted God’s gift.

Talk about a love gift.

Lord Jesus, you gave your greatest love gift when you gave yourself as a sacrifice for my sins. I couldn’t earn your salvation, but I humbly accept your grace and forgiveness by trusting the work you did for me on the cross. Heavenly Father, you are a loving God.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. Colleyville’s Home Owner Association forced Tom to get rid of the outhouse, since the HOA rules allow only two-hole outhouses.

Copyright © 2017 Jimmy Eskew

May 10

God crafted man just like God himself, in God’s own image. He created a male and a female, the first man and woman—Genesis 2:27 (King Jimmy Translation)

I Have Evolved. Have You?

The media made great fanfare about the recent transformation of Bruce Jenner, the 1976 Olympic Gold Medal winner. President Obama declared him “courageous” for telling his story. ESPN bestowed upon him the Author Ashe Courage Award for revealing who he really was. Vanity Fair capped off this media-hyped blitz by posting Jenner wearing a sultry swimsuit on their July 2015 cover. In the exclusive interview, Jenner declared to the world he was a changed man. He evolved into a she. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing—Caitlyn Jenner.

After Jenner dazzled the world with his performance in the 1976 Olympics in the Decathlon, he went on to marry and father children. Once the adulations quieted and the victories faded to nothing more than footnotes in Olympic history, Bruce discovered his feminine side—and it demanded his undivided attention. Inside Jenner’s well-disciplined, muscular body lurked “Caitlyn,” the raging beauty, unfairly trapped by the gender gods in a world-class athlete’s body. She must escape and tell the world who she really was. Without a doubt, God made a big mistake on this one.

The internal turmoil that waged for years became more than he could bear. Finally, what today’s culture heralds as an act of great courage, Bruce Caitlyn, revealed himself herself to the world. The world applauded Bru . . . Caitlyn’s new life. She (whatever) basked in the adulations and praises again.

Like Caitlyn, I, too, have evolved. After years of suppressing my identity, I, Jimmy Eskew, Aggie, husband of the lovely Mrs. Aggie, father of two beautiful daughters and grandfather to five grandchildren, finally broke free from the fable I’d been living in public and declared to the world who I really was. You see, I finally identified with who I am—I’m really an emu.

Here’s my story. As a second-grader, I realized I was different from my classmates when, on a field trip to the zoo, at the emu exhibit, I felt an immediate bonding of my soul with the emu’s souls. It was when I made eye contact with a particular attractive emu with long eyelashes, I knew trapped inside my little seven-year old body was an emu, scratching to get out.

For a long time, my condition was obvious to my family, but they discussed it in hushed tones. My parents suspected I was an emu when they recognized my long, slender, hairy legs, and my little pot-bellied tummy, plus my six-foot frame, was identical to the average emu. I flapped my arms when I fled from school-yard bullies—same as an emu flaps its little six-inch wings, evading a predator. My true identity became undeniable when my folks found me pecking for grubs in the garden. Most important, female emus will fight to the death to mate with a male emu. Not wanting to brag, but what more can I say?

Hopefully, most of you are thinking, Jimmy, this is a spoof, right? You’re not an emu. Have you lost your mind?

Look around. Without a doubt, the world has gone nuts. But no matter the whims of society or whatever the flavor-of-the-month craze modern culture dumps on us, God’s words remain. God wasted no time making it clear in the first chapter of his Word: “In the image of God, he created them. He created them male and female” (Genesis 1:27). He implanted in us male and female DNA, and this truth will never change. Whatever plumbing you were “assigned” at birth, sorry, but that is who you are.

The world may consider me a bigot, a transgender-phobic, and intolerant, narrow-minded evangelical sexist for stating that God created us male and female. I’m okay if they label me as such.

Truth: God did not trap a male in a female body, or a female in a male body. He created us in His image, with unique and unlimited creativity.

Like our misguided Olympic athlete friend, I was born into sin, with a sin nature. Like Jenner, I needed a savior, too. I needed God’s grace. Brother Bruce claims to know Jesus, and I am not disputing that. God knows who belongs to him. He wants us to be all he created us to be and fulfill his purpose for our life.

Lord, my prayer for brother Caitlyn is the same for myself and all of us—that we find our true identity in Christ. May we all identify with you, Lord Jesus, to be the people you destined us to become.

Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

After completing this article, I sent a scathing letter to the CEO’s office of a well-known department store, complaining that although they now have gender-neutral restroom, they lack of emu neutral-gender restrooms in their stores.

Jimmy Eskew ©2015

Page 48

November 20, 2016

Through God’s divine power, he has given us his divine nature so we can live a fulfilling life and not be led around in confusion by our corrupted nature—1 Peter 2:4 (King Jimmy Translation).

Following Our Nature

Your humble Aggie scribe went to Del Rio in southwest Texas to visit his ninety-year old father. Pastor Eddie Eskew’s description of Del Rio hasn’t changed in thirty years: “Del Rio is Heaven on Earth.” This is one area where my dad and I strongly disagree. When I entered Del Rio into the GPS, the voice said, “Drive endlessly into the middle of nowhere.”

The ninety-mile stretch of Highway 277 between Sonora and Del Rio runs through the heart of the badlands, a barren region of rock strata overrun by sage brush and spattered with an occasional mesquite tree. Many conspiracy theorists swear the moon landings were filmed in the badlands.

Discoveries of natural gas reserves transformed the struggling cattle ranchers into wealthy oil and gas barons. The only scenery changes that break-up the monotonous drive are the natural gas pipeline compression stations every few miles. The landscape appears lifeless, but the area teems with wildlife.

However, nighttime driving through the badlands is another story. There is a reason why “Watch for Deer” warning signs are prominent. A favorite nightly pastime for deer is playing chicken with vehicles. Skid marks leading to a mangled Bambi on the shoulder indicate the car won, but probably needed towing to the body shop.

Other warning signs are posted along the highway fences, but these are not your typical “Highway Hazard” warnings. Ranchers hang coyote carcasses on the fences. Evidently, enmity existed between the ranchers and the coyote community, even before the coyotes labeled the ranchers as coyotephobics.

Did Wylie coyote stop chasing the roadrunner, or pursuing Mary’s little lamb, or stalking Elsie’s little calf when he saw cousin Fred or Aunt Ruby strung-up on the rancher’s fence? I doubt it.

By nature, coyotes are scavengers. Fence or no fence, carcass or no carcass, they roam the ranchlands as they see fit, looking for whatever happy-meal they may stumble upon.

In our part of the Dallas / Fort Worth Metroplex, coyotes wander into our neighborhood at night to get a drink from the fountain in our front yard. The city coyotes are easy to spot: they’re drinking Starbucks and howling on their iPhones. As a deterrent, I posted a warning sign: “Domestic Animals Only.” It proved useless.

But the carcass-hanging warning gave me an idea as how to solve a long-standing problem with my two dachshunds, Daisy and Skipper. I hung a package of Oscar Meyer wieners on the backyard fence next to a sign. WARNING: DO NOT DIG IN THE FLOWER BED!

They ate the hot dogs.

By their dachshund nature, Daisy and Skipper will never cease digging an extension to the Panama Canal in our flower beds.

Left to our own selfish nature, like my two pooches, we continually dig ourselves deeper into a pit in our life’s journey. Most folks will admit that our nature—sometimes subtle, other times obvious—demands us to be number one since the world revolves around us.

Before I became a Christ-follower, that was my nature. Clearly, don’t we all have that nature?

Before understanding and accepting God’s grace, like many, I viewed the Bible, as a book of restrictions from the pleasures of life, filled with dire warnings of “Don’t do that!” You break a rule, bring burn-ointment for your stay in Dante’s Inferno. I thought of the Bible as antiquated. It was fine for people a few thousand years ago, but mankind has progressed. These restrictions no longer apply. Life is meant to be enjoyed, and we’re free to live as we wish, without “thou shalt not” restraints from a non-existent entity.

With this point of view, however, one thing must be denied: man’s nature, or as some call it—the flesh. Left to our own sinful nature, mankind is a mess. Humankind is still selfish, greedy, lustful, morally unfaithful, impure, constantly angry, jealous, and more.

Satan craftily gift-wraps the lie of how satisfying life can be when we fulfill the desires of our flesh. His catchphrase is since you’re the captain of your life, ignore those out-of-date biblical warning signs. The Bible’s book of God’s wisdom—Proverbs? Meh! The Bible itself? Naw!

Because we ignore these God-ordained truths, we determine what is right and wrong. Let’s be honest: is there real freedom in being ruled by our fallen nature? Our fallen nature leaves a void. We may look successful by the world’s standards, but often we don’t even like ourselves. Inside, we know there must be more.

When folks join God’s family as a Christ-follower, the Bible becomes alive. Far from being a book of restrictions, this book tells the most incredible love story. The Bible details God’s relationship with man and his deep desire to redeem us back to him. God’s word isn’t “Don’t do that,” but God lovingly says, “Look what I’ve done for you!” God wants us to come to him just like we are Through our belief in his Son Jesus and the work he did on the cross, God crushed our sinful nature and gave us his divine nature.

He gives eternal life. And he gives us peace. Peace with ourselves. Peace with him.

Lord God, it’s my prayer that we surrender our self-centered sinful nature to you and accept your divine nature as we become your children. May we allow your nature to rule our lives, and by the Holy Spirit’s power, put down our old nature when it tries to regain control of our lives.

Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

P.S. I wasn’t surprised when Daisy and Skipper ignored the no digging sign. They ignored the “Hard Hat Required in Digging Area” sign too.

Jimmy Eskew ©2016

     Be one of the few who enter the kingdom of God through the narrow door (Matthew 7:14 King Jimmy Translation).

Swim Against the Flow 

     Some of God’s most interesting creatures live in the sea. From those that swim in the shallow surf to those dwelling several hundred feet beneath, these creatures are amazing in their habitat.

     We’re blessed to live near a world-class aquarium, Sea Life Aquarium in Grapevine, Texas. Your humble Aggie scribe took his granddaughter Kennedy and one of her friends, Faith, on a sea life adventure to escape a scorching July afternoon.

     While we wandered through the air conditioned maze of sea creatures, I became a practicing ichthyologist. (No, that is not a cult in which the members continually scratch one another. An ichthyologist studies fish.) Every exhibit featured fish of every color, hue, and design imaginable, showing off our Creator’s creativity.

     The shark tank featured several black-tip sharks, angel sharks, and blue sharks, each swimming casually alongside sting rays, manta rays, and electric rays.

     We waltzed through the glass-enclosed Ocean Tunnel. These predators of the deep surrounded us once we entered their abode. A dangerous Moray Eel lay deadly still, camouflaged in the shadows in the rocks. In the wild, this eel ambushes unwary creatures that swim too close. A sign in the tunnel said the most dangerous shark in the world, the loan shark, was currently on loan to the Clinton Foundation.

     I observed one species of flat, oval-shaped, dark-brown fish, about six to eight inches in length. Their long, stringy whiskers and tentacles trailed them as they swam by. The closer I looked at these fish, the clearer it became to me. These resembled my first attempts to make pancakes.

     Another exhibit contained fish with flat heads—literally. Their slender bodies looked normal until it came to their 90 ° angle flat head. Apparently, distracted while playing Pokémon Go, they swam at full-throttle and slammed head-on into the dam.

     One of the most elaborate displays was a brightly-lit, circular tank, home to thousands of flag-tail fish. God blessed these little fish with red and white stripes on their tails. Their swimming imitates a multitude of tiny American flags waving. They swam from right to left in an endless circle. This is their existence for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

     As in all communities of beings, whether ethnic groups, religious conclaves, or societies—whatever, there are those who do not follow the crowd. This is also true of flag-tail fish.

Of the thousands of flag-tails swimming from right to left, dozens were swimming from left to right.

     Kennedy, Faith, and I pressed our ears to the glass to eavesdrop on the flag tail conversations.

     “What’s wrong with you? Did you flunk flag-tail school? You’re swimming the wrong    way.”

     “Hey, you’re a flag-tail. We don’t swim like that. Get back in line, weirdo!”

     “I’m not letting my little tails anywhere near you. You’re a bad influence.”

     “Swim away from those guys,” the mother flag-tail said to her little tails. “They’ve become fanatic flag tails!”

     Despite bumped and shoved by others, the non-conforming fish paid no attention to the insults hurled at them. Instead, they kept swimming against the flow.

     Sound familiar?

     Our lord Jesus instructed those who follow him that they can only enter the kingdom of God through the narrow gate. In ancient times, a narrow door in the wall of the city was called the “needle.” This door was smaller than a standard personnel door, just large enough for one person at a time to pass through. Jesus compared the way of the world, the easy path, as the “broad road,” the “big gate” that leads to destruction (Matthew 7:13).

     He indicated the world believes the false ideology there are many ways to God and all religions worship the same God. Jesus said the only way to enter into eternal life in the kingdom of God was through him, the “narrow gate.”

     Following man’s rules, religious rules, is futile to gain eternal life. All these self-efforts may seem noble, and the deeds may prove worthy, but this self-righteousness is not an alternative route to eternal life. Most who trust in their self-efforts are often frustrated and worried their efforts are not enough to please God.

     You know what pleases God? Trust in his Son Jesus. God made it so easy for us to come to him. Just believe in his Son Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross for our sins. That’s it! Check out John 3:16-17 for details.

     Makes me wonder why more do not “swim against the flow.”

     Stay close to Jesus.

      Father, thank you for making a way for us to come to you through faith in your Son Jesus. May we have a holy boldness to “swim against the flow” in our world to show others your love and the Hope we have in you.

     Jimmy

     I suggested to the management of Sea Life Aquarium an exhibit idea that I guaranteed would make the visit one the tourist would remember, but they didn’t like the idea of a piranha petting zoo.

     Jimmy Eskew © 2016

    Since God is a giver and he loved us to an extent we will never know, he gave his one and only Son, Jesus, to be a sin sacrifice for our sins, and if we trusted in his Son, God promised us eternal life with him—John 3:16 (King Jimmy Translation). 

What Were You Thinking?

    Have you read an article or watched a video that left you shaking your head in disbelief at the weirdness in the world? While your humble Aggie scribe recently surfed the Internet, several stories verified the senselessness of our “what were you thinking” culture.

************

    In Oregon, Matthew T. Mglej, 26, a snowflake musician, went off the deep end when life’s pressures became too much. A federal judge dismissed his $1.1 million lawsuit, which claimed the local police violated his First Amendment right to protest when he was arrested for playing his violin in front of the federal courthouse. Of course, there is more to the story. Seems like little Mattie likes to fiddle in public while stark-naked and was arrested for public indecency. As far as that First Amendment thing, the judge said the musician’s nudity did not advance any specific message, thus his protest was not protected by the First Amendment or the state constitution.

    What specific cause could he possibly be promoting?

************

    In North Carolina, a Chinese restaurant owner found himself in hot water with the health department over a new menu item. Witnesses say he picked up a roadkill deer and took it back to the restaurant, apparently for processing. The health department surprised him while in the act of butchering the deer, which hung outside at the back of the restaurant. (Imagine “Dueling Banjos” from Deliverance playing in the background.)

    “Oh, no,” he insisted. He had no intention of offering the meat to his customers. His explanation? He’d never cooked venison and wanted to try the taste. His excuse raised the eyebrows of the health inspector. Since no customers came in contact with the meat, the owner was not charged. He was ordered to properly dispose of the carcass and thoroughly scrub the kitchen.

    The health department now monitors the restaurant closer than the Dallas Cowboys monitor police records for new players.

************

    No offense to my IT friends, but even those in the Information Technologies field are not immune to weirdness. (Several jokes come to mind here, but I digress.) Hope is not lost for those who experience computer problems that IT departments cannot solve.

    In Silicon Valley, people call Reverend Joey Talley, a Wiccan Witch, to expel the “demon virus” from the possessed computer. She walks in circles in the presence of the computer, feeling the energy in the room. This ritual determines her game plan for exorcising the virus.

    The good reverend, who claims a 100 per cent success rate, sometimes tapes a charm to the computer and repeats “get-outta-here” chants. Other exorcisms involve either an amethyst or jet stone. She sprinkles sage over the work station and the foiled computer, then chants her hocus-pocus. The purification ceremony ends with a bowl of water with a magnet that somehow magically draws out the virus. The demon-contaminated water is flushed into the toilet never to corrupt an innocent computer again. Unfortunately, some poor unsuspecting soul, who follows the flushing, may come away with a new virus on their iPhone if they used it while meditating.

    Reverend Tally reports she is busiest after a computer is updated to Windows 10.

************

    God gave us his word as a guideline for living, yet the Scriptures record some unique characters, like Abraham, King David, or the prophet Jonah, whose stories make us wonder: What were you thinking?

     How about Balaam? You remember him? He was the “Rent-a-Prophet,” also known as the “Donkey Guy.” King Balak of Moab hired Balaam to bring a curse upon Israel.

    God told Balaam to have nothing to do with Balak, but when the king offered a handsome sum of money, it was too much of a temptation for the poverty-stricken prophet. He compromised himself, going with the earthly king instead of the heavenly King.

    Because of Balaam’s disobedience, God blinded his spiritual eyes. While he rode his donkey on the way to curse Israel, his donkey saw the angel of God, sword drawn, ready to slay Balaam. The donkey came to a screeching halt. What a time for his donkey to break down while on his way to a gig. He beat the donkey three times to move him along.

    Finally, the Lord opened the donkey’s mouth, and probably speaking perfect New York Yiddish, spoke sense to Balaam, asking what was he thinking? See Numbers 22 in the Old Testament for details.

    Then we have King Solomon. What was he thinking? God called Solomon the wisest man on Earth. He’s credited with 3000 proverbs and 1005 songs. His fame spread throughout the world. Kings sought his wisdom. His expertise in botany, zoology, and animal husbandry astounded scholars. Despite his great wisdom, we have to ask Solomon: you had 700 wives and 300 concubines. What were you thinking?

    Many issues in the Bible leave us asking What were you thinking?

    What were you thinking, Lord God? when Adam and Eve disobeyed you, ushering sin into the world, yet you had already provided a way of forgiveness for sin?

    What were you thinking, Lord God? when you gave us your word that revealed your holy character and your unconditional love for us, your fallen creation?

    What were you thinking, Lord God? when you gave your only Son, Jesus, as a sacrifice for our sins so we could be reconciled back to relationship with you?

    What were you thinking, Lord God? when you showed mercy and forgiveness to all who trust your grace?

    What were you thinking, Lord God? when you know our track record of continual failure and stumbling, yet, as imperfect people, you trust us with your gospel?

    What were you thinking, Lord God?

    Love—that’s what I was thinking.

    Stay close to Jesus

    Lord, we thank you that even before we were born, you were thinking of us and made a way for us to be in a close Father/child relationship with you. What indescribable Love indeed!

    Jimmy

    P.S. Keeping up with just one Mrs. Aggie is a full-time job. One can imagine the extent of your humble Aggie scribe’s stuttering if he had 700 wives and 300 “others.”

    Jimmy Eskew © 2016

August 28

I am sending someone, the Spirit of truth, to reveal the truth to you, so you will not stumble in your walk of faith. Be assured of this: he will tell you only what he hears. He will also tell you about things and events that are to come—John 16:13 (King Jimmy Translation). 

Hello Siri

“Have you heard beatbox on Siri?” my 24-year old granddaughter, Lyndie-Lou, asked me.

“What are you talking about, girl?” I said. “Who’s Sarah? And the last time I listened to be-bop, Watergate was an apartment building in Washington, and the Beatles ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ topped the music charts.”

“It’s on Siri, on your iPhone,” she said.

I’m a 69-year old Aggie grandfather of five. I’m fascinated how my eleven-year old granddaughter navigates the intricacies of an iPhone easier than I can open a can of Vienna sausage. I’m left scratching my head.

Now my oldest granddaughter talks about some woman living in my phone?

“Who is this Sarah chick who hangs out in my phone?” I wanted to know.

“No, Buddy.” (My grandkids call me “Buddy.”) “It’s not Sarah, it’s S-I-R-I. And it’s beatbox, not be-bop. Haven’t you used Siri?” She pushed the menu-change button on her phone and spoke into the speaker.

“Siri, play beatbox.”

Within seconds, a female vice rapped repeatedly “boots-and-caps and boots-and-caps and boots-and-caps and boots-and-caps” ad infinitum, like a four-year old asking if we are there yet.

“Isn’t that hysterical,” Lyndie-Lou giggled. “It’s on your phone,” she said. “Just hold down the button and wait till you hear the tone. Then ask Siri a question.”

I’ve never shied away from adventure. This Siri thing could inspire a story within your humble Aggie scribe. “Okay, here goes.” I held my iPhone, ready to speak. “But if Grammy [Mrs. Aggie] finds out I’ve been talking to this Sarah gal, she’ll be-bop me on the side of my head.

I pressed the button the until I heard the bell-tone. Why am I nervous? Crazy thoughts raced through my head. What if Siri doesn’t like me? Will Siri respect my intellect? Will I be nothing more than eye-candy to Siri?

A soft, female voice spoke from my phone. “This is Siri. How can I help you?” Her angelic voice calmed my nerves.

Siri was someone I can trust. “Siri, what is the temperature in Fort Worth, Texas?”

Within seconds, Siri replied, “It is 92 degrees in Fort Worth, Texas.

“See.” Lyndie Lou smiled. It pleased her watching her Aggie grandfather’s amazement at discovering a new toy. “Isn’t that neat?”

I nodded in approval. “This Siri thingamajig ain’t too bad.” I asked another question. “What is the distance between Fort Worth, Texas and Washington, D.C.?

Within seconds, Siri answered. “It is 1,312 miles from Fort Worth to Washington, D.C.”

We spent the next half hour asking question after question. Siri answered correctly every time. Very impressive. I now had a new best friend.

“I need to put my girl Siri to a real test now.” I winked at Lyndie Lou. “Watch this.”

God has trusted me with a speech impediment to bring him glory, so my next question posed the ultimate challenge between me and Siri, my new, all-knowing technical romance.

“Siri, what is the capital of P-P-Parag-g-gua-a-ay?” Nobody, but nobody, speaks stutter better than me. I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face if I tried. I think I stumped her.

“A-A-Asunc-c-ción,” Siri replied.

“Well.” This raised my eyebrows. Hummm Lucky guess on her part. “Okay, Lyndie Lou, let’s see how well this Siri chick knows baseball.” I said sarcastically.

“Hey, smart-aleck Siri, do you know who won the 1949 W-W-World-d S-S-Series?”

She unhesitatingly replied. “Why Aggie, everyone and their brother knows it was the 1949 N-N-New Y-Yor-k-k Y-Y-Yank-k-keesss. They beat the B-B-Brooklyn D-D-Dodgers in five g-g-ames. Duh!” Siri utilized the Condescending app.

I’m smarter than a fifth-grader. I dug deep into my “Trick-Questions-to-Ask-When-Outsmarting-a-Machine” folder. I can play this game, too girl.

“Siri, will a cure ever be found for s-s-stuttering?

Several seconds of silence elapsed. Euphoria overtook me. I finally stumped this high-tech wonderbeast. This called for a fist-pump in the air. YES!

The celebration ended abruptly.

“Yes, a cure will be discovered for s-s-stuttering,” Siri replied matter-of-factly, “when Texas A&M wins the NCAA Football Championship.”

I can’t live without my iPhone. I’ve had it for years, but I never knew about Siri or what she could do for me. If I left my phone at home, I’d go back to get it. (Don’t look at me like that—you do the same thing.) There were times my fumbling fingers crisscrossed each other either typing a question or looking for a Wi-Fi. All this time, I didn’t know all I had to do was ask Siri and she would help me.

When I became a Christ-follower, someone greater than Siri, the Holy Spirit, took up residence inside me. Jesus promised the Holy Spirit would never leave me or forsake me, so it’s impossible to leave home without Him. When questions arise about what to do, how should I respond to the choices before me, or what to say, the Holy Spirit has the answers. Jesus promised the Holy Spirit would lead me into all truth and reveal the Father’s will for me.

We have questions, God has answers. Our responsibility necessitates only asking the Holy Spirit to give us the wisdom or guidance we need. Unfortunately, I struggled for years, unaware of the Holy Spirit’s power available to me 24/7. I wonder how many other believers do the same today?

Lord, thank you for giving us the Holy Spirit to live within us. I pray we allow your Holy Spirit to guide us when we ask him to reveal your truths so we are steadfast in our journey of faith with you.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

One question remained unanswered. “Siri, will I ever understand women?”

She answered within nanoseconds. “Of course you will. Just after Texas A&M wins the NCAA Football Championship.”

Jimmy Eskew © 2016

God’s sovereignty reigns over all the people of the Earth. God executes his divine will from this holy throne—Psalm 47:8 (King Jimmy Translation).

Sovereign Humor

Does God have a sense of humor? I believe so.

You’ve seen some of His unique creations, haven’t you? A giraffe has a long neck for reaching high vegetation in trees, but a sore throat is an Achilles heel for them. How did the first man describe a platypus it to his buddies? “Guys, you won’t believe this. This weird creature has a duck-like bill, the body of an otter, but lays eggs like an iguana, has poisoned barbs on its webbed-feet, and plasters “TRUMP 2016” bumper stickers on the butts of unsuspecting animals.” (I made up that last part.) The platypus destroys the old saying, “if it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck . . .” God surely chuckled at the religious crowd when the platypus did not fit their agenda. He confused their vain attempts to confine the Creator in the “God-only-works-this-way” box.

One of my favorite Bible stories is found in First Samuel, chapters 4-6. These chapters recall the story when the ISIS wannabes, the wicked Philistines, captured Israel’s most sacred treasure—the Ark of the Covenant. The Philistines praised their god Dagon while they carried the Ark to the city of Ashdod, celebrating the capture of the God of Israel. Now, he served them.

In Heaven, the archangel Gabriel and the warrior angels grabbed handfuls of fire and brimstone.

“Turn us loose, Lord God.” Gabriel said. “We’ll show them who’s Boss!”

God, with a twinkle in his eye, grinned. “Hold on, fellas. I’ve got a surprise for them.”

The Philistines partied after putting the Ark in Dagon’s temple. The next morning, they found Dagon prostrate before the Ark of the Covenant. With great effort, the Philistine priests raised the massive stone statue aright before this embarrassing incident went public. During the night, Dagon fell forward and broke into pieces before the Ark. Some theologians believe the Humpty-Dumpty legend originated here.

Still grinning ear-to-ear, God and the angels leaned over a cloud. “That’s nothing,” God said. “Watch this, boys.”

The Bible says that millions of rats suddenly appeared. The Philistines watched helplessly as rats ate all the crops surrounding Ashdod. Only hard dirt and rocks remained.

“I’m not finished, yet boys,” God said to the angels. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

 Just like he did in creation, God spoke again. “Let there be tumors.”

The word “tumor,” translated into modern language, means “hemorrhoids.” (Yes, you read that correctly.) Talk about piling it on—God blessed every unholy Ashdod hiney with hemorrhoids.

“Oh, Lord,” Gabriel said. “That’s so good!”

After several weeks, the sorely afflicted, itchy people of Ashdod had enough of this Ark-thingamajig, so they shipped it to Gath, a neighboring town. History repeated itself. Rats destroyed the crops and drugstores ran out of ointment. The people moved the Ark to another city. Same results—no food, awkward walking and squirmy sitting in the pews of the now-defunct Dagon temple. They had yet to learn their lesson

In every Philistine city where the Ark landed, rats ruined the crops, the local ointment black market flourished, and senior pagans quit playing musical chairs at the Dagon temple pot-luck dinner socials.

After seven months of insane itching, the Philistines wised-up and sent the Ark back to Israel, but they dared not send it back empty-handed. Their skilled craftsmen made golden rats and golden tumors as an “I’m-so-sorry” guilt offering to Israel (1 Samuel 6:4).

I can picture in my mind golden rats, but golden tumors? Really?

The Ark and golden goodies were placed on a new ox cart and sent on its way unaccompanied. The Philistines wanted nothing more to do with the Ark—ever. The Bible says they glorified the God of Heaven as the Ark disappeared over the horizon.

Our Father God definitely has a sense of humor. When Jesus walked the earth, I’m sure he and his disciples laughed and joked. Jewish humor is some of the funniest in the world. Humor certainly would come into play later in the disciple’s lives as hardships and persecutions followed them, just as Jesus promised, wherever they preached the good news of the kingdom of God (John 16:33).

God is sovereign. Mans’ attempts to limit God in a box and then state emphatically he can act only in certain ways, makes God laugh. Who are we to tell God how to act or how to perform his will? God is the ultimate authority. He does as he pleases. Who but God would have thought of a national hemorrhoid plague? I wouldn’t.

God’s sovereignty uses whatever techniques he chooses to bless us, correct us or draw men to him, whether using his word, or through the handiwork of his creation, or however he chooses. He has placed his moral laws of right and wrong upon the hearts of all men, even if they’ve never heard the name of Jesus. God reveals his sovereignty to us, but he lets us choose whether to follow him or go our own way.

 Lord, may we always revere your holy sovereignty. Use whatever means you choose to perform your will here on Earth as it is in Heaven. May your kingdom have dominion over all the Earth.

Stay close to Jesus

Jimmy

Philistine doctors worked feverously to find relief from God’s punishment, but in frustration, they quit at Preparation G.

Jimmy Eskew © 2016

You may not understand it now, dear disciples, but for your benefit, I must go away. If I remain here, the Advocate [Holy Spirit] won’t come to you. Take heart! After I leave I’ll send him to you, and he will never leave you, no matter what—John 16:7 (King Jimmy Translation).

Once He Gave it, He Wouldn’t Take It Back

For those raised in the 50s and 60s, we called someone who gave us a gift, and later wanted it back, as an “Indian-giver”. No one wanted that label attached to them.

The origin of the phrase was the result of a misinterpretation of actions between two cultures. When the Europeans first encountered the Native Americans, they thought the Indians were giving them gifts, but the Indians were bartering and expected something of equal value in return. The European’s neglect to offer the Indians something in return insulted the Indians and gave them the lasting impression of the white man as cheap and self-centered. When the white man saw the Indians wanted something in return, they coined the phrase “Indian-giver”. In retaliation, the Native Americans charged the Europeans double for drinks at their casinos and spawned the social justice movement, IGM—Indian Gifts Matter.

The Copyeditor’s Handbook (1999) describes the phrase “Indian-giver” as offensive and discourages its use. Just writing this story puts me in danger that the editors will block me from opening Microsoft Word again. To be politically correct, this objectionable word was renamed to reflect today’s society: “Indian-giver” is now Transgift Re-assignment Reverser [TRAR].

I am guilty of being a TRAR. In high school, along with a gazillion other hormonally-charged boys, I stood guilty of this crime of passion toward womanhood. When a lovely young lady captured my heart, I pursued her relentlessly, hoping she would accept a token of my undying love, which usually amounted to an adjustable-size ring purchased at Woolworth’s. She wore this symbol of our forever-love around her neck, proclaiming to the world she had a handsome, terrific, super-neat boyfriend [me]. That lucky girl. She was “going steady.” For me, it meant despite being skinny as stick of rebar and covered with enough zits to supply the entire senior class, I was good enough to have a girlfriend.

Life is reality. When my significant other revealed a character flaw she’d stealthily hidden from my tender spirit, it destroyed our true romance, even to the extent that our puppy love could never rise from the ashes. In order to maintain my flawless character, I became a TRAR and demanded my deeply-flawed girlfriend return the symbol of our forever-shattered love. (She usually threw it at me.) The tabloid headlines spread the news: Jimmy and ___________ (girlfriend of the week) are No Longer an Item. I learned my bitter lesson and promised myself to never give my heart away again to just another pretty face. Generally, within the eight to twelve-hour mourning period, I discovered my lifelong, true love and gave her the emblem of my undying love.

Our native friends in Central and South America have this TRAR thing worked out. Their Indian-giving leaves a positive effect. If a person goes away, they leave a most precious, personal possession with their friend to guarantee they would return. By giving this gift, it obligated that person to come back.

Jesus is the beautiful example of this form of giving. Christ did his work of redemption on the cross for the sins of all mankind, which included your sins and mine. On Easter Sunday, God the Father resurrected Jesus from the grave, to conquer sin and death for us—forever. Jesus told his followers he was going away but was sending them a gift, the Holy Spirit, to live within them until he returned. He said this gift is for all who become Christ-followers and will guarantee them they will be with Jesus and the Father in Heaven. He promised he would never turn into a TRAR on us and take this gift of the Holy Spirit away. The Savior keeps his word.

Thank you, Lord, for accepting us as we are and giving us your free gift of salvation and never taking it back. Thank you for sending your Holy Spirit to live within us to guide and teach us, but also to be a deposit on our place with you in Heaven. Please give us the faith to make you Lord of our life and draw closer to you every day.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. With the influx of Europeans flooding the country, the Native Americans reconsidered their open-borders policy.

Jimmy Eskew © 2016

If you try to hold onto your Christ-less lifestyle, you will not find the life that matters, but if you live identified with Christ, will find true purpose and contentment in life—Luke 9:24 (King Jimmy Translation).

I Broke the Law, and the Law Won

 Some laws can be broken without consequences. For instance:

• Although the law declares occupants must wear a seatbelt while in the car, I can ride unbuckled and get away with it. However, if Mrs. Aggie is behind the wheel, wisdom dictates I buckle up.
• In Nevada, even though the law says ‘No, you cannot buy drinks for more than three people at a time,’ I can flaunt that ordinance and never fear apprehension.
• Aren’t we blessed to live in Texas and not in Maine? In the land where man and moose are friends, it’s against the law to leave your Christmas decorations up after January 14. The icicles hanging on the Aggie homestead in August remind us that cooler weather is just around the corner. And the City of Grapevine has never threatened me with a stiff fine for leaving the lighted, plastic Santa Claus in the chimney year-round.

Other laws cannot be broken and gotten away with. For instance:

• If I jump off the roof (removing the plastic Santa), despite wildly flapping my arms, the law of gravity prevails.
• If I drive 38 mph in a 30 mph zone in Sonora, Texas, officer Medrano wins.
• Another immutable law: if you own a computer, you must have a back-up system since you will have a failure at some time.

Last week, without warning, Microsoft did their unwanted automatic updates that they randomly do at the most inconvenient time. Once the updates were completed, I rebooted and resumed writing my Pulitzer Prize-winning inspirational story. As I hammered out my suspense-filled thriller I noticed something was wrong. The praise and worship music, which plays softly while I write, wasn’t crooning the glories of God. Although, the You Tube videos were playing, there was no audio. Even the ‘volume’ icon was missing.

What has Bill Gates done to me now? A pox upon him!

Your humble Aggie scribe navigated through the computer to un-date the unsolicited updates. With Mrs. Aggie’s computer skills on display, we left-clicked and right-clicked more Windows^® than featured in a Pella^® catalogue. Finally, success. We high-fived, rebooted and waited . . . and waited.

Nothing. Just a blank screen.

With our pride on the back shelf, we asked God for a miracle and called technical support. God answered our prayer. A technician named Morgan, who spoke excellent English, immediately answered and we weren’t on hold for three days. We explained what happened to the computer, what we did, but got the same frustrating results. “I haven’t been this distraught since I found out Santa Claus wasn’t real,” I said.

“I know the feeling,” Morgan emphasized with me. “I was crushed to find out the Easter bunny wasn’t real, too.”

He guided us through more computer tests but the results were the same. “Oh, brother,” Morgan said in a funeral-drige tone. “I suspect the hard drive has failed. You need to send me your computer for repair.”

Words not found in Sunday school lessons popped into my mind.

“It’s a good thing you have a back-up,” Morgan said.

Here is where my awkward moment of prolonged silence became noticeable.

“You do have a back-up, don’t you?”

“Err . . . well, no . . . not really,” I stuttered, hoping to somehow save face. “I have a few files on a memory key, though.”

Morgan’s silence shattered my eardrums. “Ohhh,” he finally muttered. “You’re not a very smart Aggie, are you?”

I no longer considered Morgan’s English excellent.

I broke the law of failing to back-up my hard drive. If indeed the hard drive failed, I’ve lost all my stories for my book, Jesus Just Cracks Me Up! All the research files for manuscripts I had underway are gone. Most of my email contacts are unavailable. Writers’ websites are missing. Everything is gone, joining all of Hillary’s missing documents in cyberspace.

I resigned myself that I may have to start over with my writings and stories. The devil didn’t do it. I can’t blame Congress, climate change, or Skipper, my mischievous dachshund. I have no one to blame but myself for my foolish procrastination to get a back-up system.

But God is good. It’s not like I lost everything as the Old Testament Patriarch Job did. Job trusted God even though he lost all his possessions, his health, even his children. Despite Job’s great losses, he offered sacrifices of praise and worship to God. Because of Job’s faithfulness, God eventually restored to him twice what he lost.

Jesus reminds me not to worry about the future since he implemented a back-up plan for my life before I was born.

That’s amazing.

Whatever I might lose during this earthly life for being a Christ-follower, he will replace with a greater, more satisfying contentment here. Then when he is ready, he’ll usher me into my heavenly home. Best of all, Jesus’ back-up plan is guaranteed never to fail. None of his eternal promises are lost.

Sounds like a good plan to me.

God’s promise causes me to worship him despite the possibility I’ve lost all my data. In his mercy, I may recover the data. Either way, God is good.

Lord, thank you for having a back-up system for each one of us when we trust in what you have done for our salvation. It’s nothing we did. It is your entire back-up plan because you do not want anyone to be lost and miss spending eternity with you.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

Following Job’s example, I offered my most valuable possession as a sacrifice to God—my Duck Dynasty camo hat—on the grill.

Jimmy Eskew © 2016

When you make time for prayer with me, slip off to your room, close the door, and let’s talk secretly. I know your intentions for spending time with me, and you will receive my favor—Matthew 6:6 (King Jimmy Translation).

Re-Do the To-Do

Let’s see a show of hands of those who need a to-do list to check off items to get stuff done.

I should raise my hand.

My pride convinced me I didn’t need a to-do list of the honey-does waiting for me after I retired. After all, with my photographic mind, I can vividly remember details of circumstances and events from decades ago. (I’ve offered my phenomenal remembrance skills to both presidential candidates but haven’t heard back from them.)

Dreams of transforming the Aggie homestead into a palace type of abode were placed on hold until after my retirement in July of 2015. Twenty-five years of normal wear and tear required in a number of needed repairs and updates to our modest hut. Every day, as I walked the property, I added more projects to my list, which I kept in an orderly manner in my mind.

I don’t need no stinkin’ to-do list!

Then my OCD butted heads with my ADHD. This conflict proved to me how foolish to think I could accomplish anything without a to-do list. If I didn’t check off projects on my to-do list, my attempts to turn the Aggie homestead into the Taj Mahal resembled the Texas Rangers trying to find an offense in the playoffs. The original Taj Mahal took twenty-two years to construct and used one thousand elephants. In today’s dollars, $827 million would pick up the tab.

Three problems immediately arose:

1. Retirement depleted my $827 million stash.
2. I may not have twenty-two years left.
3. Our HOA has a “No Elephant restriction.”

I sensed the urgency to get things done before my years of good physical health expired. I made a detailed to-do list, which allowed no idle time. My original short list evolved into a multifaceted spreadsheet. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day was accounted for. The battle to stay focused required my undivided attention for every project while my ADHD wanted to sneak-slap my OCD. (Because this is a family-friendly article, I cannot mention the obvious kind of slap.)

The Lord leaned over my shoulder to look at my to-do list. He shook his head. “Where’s my time on your list, Jimmy?”

“Oh, hi ya, Lord.” I pointed to the morning schedule on the spreadsheet. “Here you are. You’re penciled in at breakfast while I eat my Cheerios and a banana.”

“Oh, thanks a lot, Aggie,” the Lord said. “You eat faster than your dachshunds, Daisy and Skipper. That leaves me about thirty seconds.

“No, no. Look here.” I protested and pointed to another section. “See, I’ve blocked off an hour for you on Sunday mornings. I’m giving you lots of time.” I turned the family spreadsheet segment. “See, Lord. I’ve allotted ten-minutes to drop Mrs. Aggie at the hospital and another ten-minutes when I pick her up a week later, if she’s ready to be released.” I justified my schedule. “I’ve got lots to do and a short time to do it.”

The Lord sighed and put His arm around my shoulder. “Ditch the list and let’s take a walk.”

We walked around the block.

“Do you know why it is vital for you to have quiet time with me?” The Lord didn’t let me answer. “Unlike other relationships, the health of our relationship eternally affects your body, soul, and spirit.”

“I know you’re right, Lord, but my ADHD kicks in when I try to spend alone time with you, and . . .”

He interrupted. “Have you noticed how the devil attempts to distract your focus when we’re together?”

“Uh . . . yeah.”

“That’s why I put my Spirit to live within you.”

“Sure am glad you did, Lord. You’re always with me.” I reflected for a moment. “Sorry I don’t talk one-on-one with you more.”

“When you’re committed to spend time with me, the closer you draw near to me, the more you can resist the devil.” He stopped and placed both his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I’ve given you permission to use my name against the devil—with all my power. He will get outta Dodge.” He was emphatic. “Just remember. The devil fears my name when used in faith!”

While we walked in the early-morning cool on that August day, his words comforted my mind. But I needed his words to take deeper roots in my heart.

“You know I was pretty busy while I was here on Earth,” Jesus said. “Yet I made time be still and spend with my Father.”

“Looks like I need to change my spreadsheet, Lord,” I confessed. “I need more quiet time with you.”

“I wired you,” the Lord reminded me. “I gave you my attributes to get things done, and you do a good job of it, but still you’re leaving me on the sidelines too much.”

I couldn’t argue. He was right.

“Here’s another of my truths,” the Lord said. “Give me more alone time and I will make the rest of your time work for you.”

I swore I heard a faint laughter.

“Besides, it’s fun to spend time with Aggies.”

Funny, but not strange, the more I spend time alone with Jesus, my to-do list gets shorter.

Lord, may we resolve to re-arrange our schedules to spend more time with you, to draw nearer to you. Give us more passion to seek you and know your heart.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. At the next HOA meeting, I want to bring up that “No Elephant Restriction” thingy again.

Jimmy Eskew © 2016