Category Archives: Inspirational

The Lord looked down on earth, His garden. His eyes scanned back and forth. Then, He pointed and said, “There. That one is ready.”

“Lord,” said the angel, “that’s parched dirt. Nothing much has grown there for years. Maybe, You should check out the Midwestern spuds. Plenty of water there. ”

“No,” said the Lord,” this is the spud of my eye. When I planted him, I poured some great spiritual genetics into the little tater. And now,  he’s ready.”

The angel shrugged and took off. Within nano-seconds, he landed next to the vine which the Lord had pointed out and dug with his hands into the dry soil. He pulled out a medium-sized potato and held it up. It was not much to look out, sort of scrawny and dirty.

“Well, little potato, this is your day,” said the angel. The potato, being all eyes, did not say anything. He just listened.

Then, the angel took the potato through a cleansing process. He was washed and scrubbed. Damaged parts and bad eyes were clipped off. When it was over, the potato said, “The Lord loves me and I love Him. I am the spud of His eye. I am so happy.”

Next, the hand of the Lord lifted the potato up and shoved him into an oven. The heat was turned up to 350 degrees.

The little potato was afraid; it was dark and hot  in there. Very hot. “Lord, what are you doing to me?” cried the potato.

“Trust Me,” said the Lord in a gentle voice. Then He added, “You are the spud of My eye.”

The potato rolled over to the door and banged against it. “Lord, Lord,” screamed the potato, “I am dying in here. Let me out.”

The Lord smiled. “Yes, I know you’re dying. That’s My plan for you.” Then again, He added, “Your are the spud of My eye.”

After a while, the potato quit  banging on the door and crying out. He resigned himself to the process. His resignation did not make the experience any less painless, but it allowed him to focus better.

The door finally opened. A hand reached in, lifted the potato out and set him on a kitchen table. What a relief, thought the potato. Now, I’m ready to be what I’ve always been called to be.

Zzzt! A knife slit the potato and removed his flesh from the skins. The particles  fell into a white mixing bowl.

Grrrr! A electric mixer mashed the potato flesh inside the mixing bowl.

“Lord, why are You doing this to me? Don’t You love me?”

“Yes, I love you. I do this to every potato who loves me with all his heart like you do. Your flesh is just being smoothed out a little,” said the Lord. Then, He added, “You are the spud of My eye.”

What next, wondered the potato.

Milk , butter and seasonings were added. Then, more mixing. A lot more mixing.

The mixer stopped. The Lord inspected the little potato. “He’s ready.”

The potato sighed. “It’s over. The process is over,” whispered the potato. “It was bad, really bad, but somehow, I survived. Now, it’s time for me to be what I have been called to be. Yea!”

Thwop! Thwop! The potato’s flesh was spooned back into his skins and shoved into the oven. The heat was turned up.

This time the little potato kept quiet. He knew that it was useless to complain. Everything was out of his control and in the hands of the Lord. How long it took before he was ready, he did not know nor did he care. After all, he was the spud of the Lord’s eye. That was enough for him.

Twice baked potato, sort of reminds a person of how an apostle is readied for his ministry, right?

AND?

What are you doing now? What doors is GOD opening for you (not self opened doors like a blog… anyone can have a blog?)

Examples…. how has God changed you in those 17 years?

No really… I am interested. (rebuildingruins commenting here.)

Thirteen years ago, on my birthday and one month before meeting Honey, I sat down at my table with a legal pad, pen and Bible. I drew a line down the middle of a page, from the top to its bottom.

My plan was to write all of my accomplishments on one side of the page, and my failures on the other. Sort of a balance sheet for my first half-century of life.

After fifteen or twenty minutes, I quit. I saw no accomplishments for the dreams the Lord had given me as a young Christian. None. I only saw my failures and false starts.

What a birthday bummer!

So, I checked out the Bible and other books, hoping to discover men who accomplished things for the Lord after their 50th birthday.

Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Caleb and Job were late bloomers extraordinaire. All were over eighty when they finally kicked it into gear. And what about Simeon and Anna? Then, there was the apostle John on the Isle of Patmos. And also, Smith Wigglesworth and Grandma Moses.

You see, the Lord does not ignore late blooming geezers like me.

Maybe all of my accomplishments for the last seventeen years – at best – can be summed up in my blogging. And of course, you’re right, anyone can blog which can be ascertained by the 163,702 different WordPress Blogs.

But I have not finished the race, yet; and I’m still out on the course, chugging along.

So, what has the Lord changed in me over the last seventeen years? I now have endurance, oodles of it.

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. (James 1:2-3)

In my vision, I was walking through the countryside. It was a beautiful, sunny day, no clouds in the sky. The countryside was filled with green trees, rippling books and rolling hills. As I walked, I heard voices saying, “Hey, come to our church. We are free. We are truly free.”

I turned to look toward the direction of the voices.  They were coming from a dark, dingy cave with bars covering the entrance of the cave. Hands were sticking through the openings between the bars, waving at me, trying to get my attention.

I thought to myself, how can this be. These people are in a dark, dingy cave and I’m out here in this beautiful light, enjoying myself, and they think that they are free. How can they be so deceived? (Spoken by Roberts Liardon in the early 1990’s.)

For about four years, I was a part of a dark, dingy cave, much like the one Liardon described in his vision. It’s not that we did not pray; we had a morning intercessory prayer meeting which met for three and a half years – every morning. It ‘s not that we did not fast; a twice a week deal. It’s not that we did not study the word; we did. It’s not that we did not walk in the charismatic gifts; we excelled in them. We danced. We sang the latest worship songs. And we loved Israel and celebrated Shabats on special Friday nights.

And yet, it was  a prison with a steeple on the roof.

How could this be?

The number one reason was the so-called  “covering and accountability” teachings. Under this teaching, a person like me had to have a covering (apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastor and teacher) over him that watched over him, corrected him, checked him out, and supposedly kept him in the right timings of God. The coverings would know when I was ready to be used by God. It was up to them to hear God’s voice for my life.

My duty was to submit and be accountable to my coverings (pastors). After all, they were God’s servants, placed over me. To do anything less, would have been an act of rebellion on my part.

So what happened?

A woman in another town spent weeks fasting and praying for my deliverance. Eventually, my eyes were opened and I left the church?

What did my coverings (pastors) say when I told them? “You are out of the will of God and God will never use you again. Don’t leave.”

That was seventeen years ago.