LXXXIII

SERVE HIM WITH A PERFECT HEART AND WITH A WILLING MIND

1 CHRONICLES 28:9

SEVENIA SALLIE (GIRL PROPHETESS)

I was as nervous as I have ever been in my life as I stood on the front steps of a brick ranch house. Then I heard my knuckles rap on Clint “Sonny” Samson’s door. It had been three days since I went to Hannibal, Missouri with Sonny’s brother, and one of my best friends, pastor, mentor, and sort of grandpa. He’s affectionately known as Captain Kirk, due to his stint in the army as a chaplain.

He and I had been in Hannibal, visiting a woman who had been involved with one of the soldiers the Good Captain served with in Vietnam. (This story was in the previous two posts). On the way home from Hannibal, I had finally gotten the Good Pastor to talk about the brother from whom he was estranged.

The riff began slowly as a simple sibling rivalry. It began to intensify with his brother’s jealousy over Captain Kirk being an officer in the military, and he being a non-commissioned officer. Then, within a year of leaving the military, Captain Kirk left the family faith. Let me be clear, the Good Pastor left a denomination, not the Christian faith. But that’s a story for him to tell when I convince him to have Johnathan Embers help him write his story.

So when Captain Kirk left the family’s religion, his father was angry. Due to the informal fellowship he helped organize, his father even declared him to be a cult leader. He disinherited Pastor Samson and left the family farm solely to his brother. However, when the father died, Pastor’s mother changed the will back and left everything to him. Even though the Good Pastor split the inheritance with his brother, his brother held a grudge at not getting the whole thing as he previously believed he would.

I could feel my heart thump against my chest as I knocked a second time. For a second time, my eyes glanced at a bumper sticker sized sign that read, NO SOLICITING. Was I soliciting? I suppose I was, in a way. I was soliciting a reconciliation. My feelings of uneasiness were intensified by angry mumbling, accompanied with loud footsteps.

I closed my eyes and prayed. The Holy Spirit brought to my mind that perfect love casts out fear. (I John 4:18). I asked the Lord to make me perfect in His love. I thanked Him that His love toward me was already perfect. I felt the anxiety that had been quivering my limbs and clouding my mind, become replaced with Holy zeal. I was ready!

My intentions were pure. Blessed are the peace makers, (Matthew 5:9). What was the worst that could happen? I get yelled at? Even if he were crazy and shot me, he could only kill my body and not my soul. (Matthew 10:28). On the other side of the coin, what my little mission might bring is love. Love in the form of two estranged brothers being reunited.

My hopes were dinged, but not dashed when he opened the door. When he spoke, he reminded me of the angry badger from ‘The Fox and the Hound.’ “Can’t you read?” he barked, and then tapped the NO SOLICITING sticker next to his door. Sonny did not have a sunny disposition at all!

I felt my mouth gape open. Not because of his unwelcoming manner, but due to the resemblance to my beloved pastor, mentor, friend, and sort of grandpa. Only he was clean shaven, and his white hair was a bristly, slightly thin flattop.

It was the eyes. They were so similar to my beloved pastor, mentor, friend, and sort of grandpa. Only whereas the Good Pastor’s eyes were warm, friendly, clear, and often twinkled. Sonny’s eyes were cold, hard, red rimmed, and exuded animosity. What a contrast!

“Now git!” Sonny said, and then made a shooing gesture with his hands. Then he slammed the door in my face.

I knocked again, and then winced. The door flew back open and he looked furious. He even seemed to be panting with fury. With clenched teeth, he said, “You got some kind of nerve,” and then to my surprise, finished by calling me, “Kiddo. I said to git, and I mean now!”

His referring to me by the same term of endearment that Captain Kirk often used, surprised me. Yet he said it with such hostility that it was like a different reference entirely. When Captain Kirk said it, I felt his affection. When Sonny said it, I felt like a delinquent.

As he slammed the door again, I practically yelled, “Sonny, wait!”

The door closed with a crash, but immediately reopened, a look of surprise on the elderly man’s face as the large white caterpillars above his eyes arched. His eyebrows seemed even bigger than the Good Pastor’s eyebrows. But maybe it was Sonny’s short haircut and clean shaven face that made them seem larger. The look of astonishment softened his angry features. However, he still reminded me of the grumpy badger from ‘The Fox and the Hound.’

“What did you call me?” he asked, cautiously, curiously.

I cleared my throat. “Sonny… Sir.”

“Who are you?” he asked, as most of the meanness seemed to have drained away from his demeanor. Now he struck me as a lonely old man while he gazed pensively at me.

“Sevenia Sallie, Sir.”

“Do I know you? How do you know me? I haven’t been called Sonny in twenty years. Why, there’s only a few people still alive that know me by that name.”

“My pastor, friend, mentor, and sort of grandpa told me.”

“Kirk!” he barked, as he reverted back to grumpy badger. I braced myself for a ‘git’, but he crossed his arms and glared at me for a moment instead. “Calling him pastor gave it away. Only you forgot to qualify it with fake. I suppose you call him Captain Kirk like all the other morons that follow him.”

“I respectfully beg to differ, Sir,” I replied with a charming smile. “First of all, I follow Jesus, not the Good Pastor. Although I do consider him a mentor. Second, I usually call him Captain Crunch, sometimes Captain Crunchy Bunch.”

Although he stared at me sternly with his arms still crossed over a potbelly, I detected a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, and his furry frown raised a little.

“Anyhow, the Good Pastor is the most Godly man I know,” I said.

He snorted and scowled some more. I figured he wouldn’t like my comment, but I felt I needed to defend my pastor, friend, mentor, and sort of grandpa.

“Oh, okay, I can tell by your age and experience that you’d know better than me,” he said sarcastically, then mumbled. “What a mindless twit.”

“Did you just call me a mindless twit?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips, and making myself look intently into his eyes.

He lifted his chin, and placed his hands on his hips. “What if I did?”

Being the daughter of Seven Sallie did have its advantages. I recalled my dad imitating an old time actor. I believe his name was something like James Cagney. I shook my fist and tried to imitate my dad imitating the old time actor. “Why I oughta sock you right in the nose, buster. Yeah, see, I oughta give you what for.”

He actually chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know why, but I like you, Kiddo. You got spunk. Would you want to come in?”

Wow! Be grateful for small miracles. “Sure,” I replied with a small voice.

The house smelled of cigar smoke and toast. It was clean, but messy, if that makes any sense. I mean the carpet looked clean, and the furniture wasn’t grimy or dusty. But the living room was littered with beer cans, packs of Swisher Sweet cigars, newspapers, magazines, and laundry. Sonny scooted a calico cat out of a chair and waved a hand as an invitation for me to sit.

“So,” Sonny began with something like a look of triumph in his eyes. “Why did my brother send you here? Did he hear about Wilma?”

“No,” I said hesitantly. “Actually, he has no idea I’m here.”

“Oh,” he said blandly, and then looked puzzled. “Why did you come then? Is he dying?”

“Oh, no,” I replied shaking my head. “He’s in good health. I mean, for an 85 year old.”

“He’s 84,” Sonny replied mildly. “For another month anyway.”

“Right, my bad,” I simply replied. I didn’t want to tell him that the Good Captain recently started to factor in conception with his age. Sonny already considered him to be a ‘fake pastor’. Yet I took it as a good sign that Sonny was mindful of precisely how old his brother was. “Who is Wilma?”

“Never mind,” he said with a brisk wave of his hand.

“Is she your wife?” I asked gently, looking compassionately into his watery, red rimmed eyes.

He looked lost and puzzled. His eyes seemed to become even more watery. But he was of a mindset that viewed emotion as a sign of weakness. He picked up a pack of cigars, pulled one out, and lit it with a silver lighter. He gave it several  quick puffs as he got it burning, and it reminded me of playing an old video game with my dad when I was little called Rally X. As you drive the car around the TV screen, you puff out little clouds of smoke to spin out the cars that are chasing you. Now my eyes watered as a stray wisp of smoke came at my face like a crooked arrow.

“Yes,” he croaked, and then coughed. “Wilma’s my wife. We took her to a nursing home three weeks ago.”

“Who’s we?”

He squinted at me and frowned. I thought he was about to tell me something like ‘mind my own business.’ Instead he simply replied, “My niece.”

“Are you and your niece close?”

He shrugged. “She and my wife are… Or were.”

“Why aren’t they close anymore?”

“Because my wife usually doesn’t know who she is cuz she has Alzheimer’s,” he said quietly. Then he squinted at me again. His squint turned into a glare, and he barked, “You’re a nosy little thing, aren’t you?”

“No Sir,” I responded and shook my head. “I simply care.”

He snorted, began to speak, coughed, began to speak again, coughed, swore, and then said. “Why do you care?”

“Well, I care about human suffering in general, but more specifically, I care because your brother is a close friend of mine. And I know he cares.”

He puffed his cigar, coughed, snorted a non-humorous laugh, and said. “If you are a close friend of my brother’s, then you know we don’t like each other.”

“Not true,” I replied boldly. “You may not like him, but he loves you.”

He snorted again. “Is that why he hasn’t spoken to me in years?”

“The way I understand it, he has reached out to you several times and was rejected. He’s simply respecting your wishes that you want nothing to do with him.”

“A likely story,” he cackled sarcastically.

“It’s true. As a matter of fact, I bet I could have him here within the hour.”

“Oh, sure you could,” he responded with more sarcasm. “Why if my phony, greedy brother is standing in that doorway in the next sixty minutes, I’ll eat my hat.”

“Deal!” I said, standing abruptly, smiling confidently, and offering to shake on it.

He looked startled, but to my surprise slowly took my hand in his.

“It’s a deal, then! I’ll be back within the hour,” I challenged.

He wore a look of concern as he stood, too. “Kiddo, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Oh, never mind,” he growled.

Then he started to mumble curse words to himself as he complained about me and the situation I put him in. I think he even called me a whipper snapper.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT PART 3)

“Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)

Righteousness is holiness, likeness to God, and “God is love.” 1 John 4:16. It is conformity to the law of God, for “all thy commandments are righteousness” (Psalm 119:172), and “love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:10).

Righteousness is love, and love is the light and life of God. The righteousness of God is embodied in Christ. We receive righteousness by receiving Him.

Not by painful struggle or tiresome toil, not by gift or sacrifice, is righteousness obtained; but it is freely given to every soul who hungers and thirsts to obtain it.

No human can supply that which will satisfy the hunger and thirst of the soul.

 As we need food to sustain our physical strength, so do we need Christ, the Bread from heaven, to sustain spiritual life and strength.

As the body is continually receiving the nourishment that sustains life and vigor, so the soul must be constantly communing with Christ, submitting to Him, and depending wholly upon Him.

The word of God is a wellspring of life. As you seek those living springs, you will, through the Holy Spirit, be brought into communion with Christ.

Every revelation of God to the soul increases the capacity to know and to love.

“Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)

God does not ask if we are worthy of His love, but He pours upon us the riches of His love, to make us worthy. He seeks not to punish, but to redeem!

There are many to whom life is a painful struggle. Kind words, sympathy, expressions of appreciation, would be to many a struggling and lonely one as a cup of cold water to a thirsty soul.

“They that water, shall be watered themselves.” (Proverbs 11:25)

“Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.” (Matthew 5:8)

When Christ abides in the heart, there will be purity of thought and action.

Even Jesus’s disciples were so blinded by the selfishness of their hearts that they were slow to understand Him who had come to manifest to them the Father’s love.

It is when our lives are hid in Christ that we behold the love of God.

The beauty and preciousness of truth, which are undiscerned by the worldly wise, are constantly unfolding to those who have a trusting, childlike desire to know and to do the will of God.

We discern the truth by becoming partakers of the divine nature ourselves, through Christ and the Holy Spirit.

The pure in heart live as in the visible presence of God during their allotted time in this world.