It's the latest film The Batman movie but with Adam West! Check out the Batmobile!
Wednesday, April 27, 2022
Sunday, April 24, 2022
Anxious for nothing, prepared for anything
How I have not been diagnosed with some kind of anxiety disorder, I may never know. But it is true: I have been anxious too awful much for anyone during these past several years (and by "several", I mean two decades at least). Especially too anxious as a Christian, when I should have been waiting patiently for God in His time.
A few weeks ago a dear friend gave me a copy of Anxious for Nothing: Finding Calm in a Chaotic World, by Max Lucado. I'm about halfway through it so far. First of all, I am delighted to discover that Lucado is still writing. I first became introduced to Lucado's work about twenty-five years ago, when I was just starting my life as a Christian. It became some of the more influential literature during my early walk with Christ.
Second, it has been quite some time since a book other than those in scripture convicted me of something.
I've been anxious to the point of falling prey to fear. In many aspects I have been paralyzed by fear. Fear of too many things. Especially of being alone. And I have been so filled with fear of that, that it has prevented me from enjoying some potentially wonderful blessings in my life.
And this may come across as silly, but I'm ashamed of myself as an Eagle Scout. To be an Eagle is to "Be prepared" for whatever comes up in life. Including those things that bring about anxiety. I should have been meeting those issues head-on, confronting them with a heart without fear, instead of letting them get the better of me. I have paid a price for my lack of preparedness. But maybe it's not too late to do something about that.
"Anxious for nothing" comes up in Philippians, chapter 4, verses 6 and 7...
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
I should have been bold in presenting my requests to God, but ready and humble enough to accept whatever His decree was, whether it was "yes" or "no" or "wait". I like to think that what He has been telling me all along, though I wasn't very accepting, was to wait. I couldn't wait, and it led to me making some mistakes. I have finally come to realize that I wasn't prepared for the blessings He had in mind for me, until now.
What would my life have been like, had I been prepared with a heart of courage instead of one capitulating to anxiety?
I will never know. But I don't have to know either. Something interesting about God, that my best friend told me a long time ago: we can't mess up with Him. No matter how much we make a mess of things, He is always several steps ahead of us. He may not set things straight the way we want Him to, but he doesn't have to. Whatever we do, if we acquiesce to His will, does give Him the glory and the honor. And in the end that's what it's all about. When He answers our prayers and gives us good things, well... that's simply the cherry on top. And one that a glad heart will be prepared to enjoy to the utmost.
A week ago as part of my "blogging for Lent" I shared my testimony for the first time. That was twenty-five years ago, when that happened. I am astounded and thankful and too many other adjectives, that God has been working in my life throughout all this time. Because I am coming to see, now, that He has not forsaken me. That there never was any reason to be anxious. And He has been graceful enough to carry me through all this entire time of trial and tribulation. Growth came of it. I have to believe that more than that came of it also. And I look forward to seeing what comes of that.
Anyhoo, it's a great book by Lucado. I'll give it a hearty recommendation. Well worth reading!
Thursday, April 21, 2022
The CDC: Too much power given to an agency
One February morning in 1997, I was at a gas station in Burlington, North Carolina. At the counter someone was complaining about new cigarette laws requiring that people under a certain age must show their photo ID. He said it was a stupid law.
"Wait, let me explain something," said the bearded man behind the counter. "What you are protesting against is not a law. You are instead protesting a regulation. A law is something that has gone through the legislative process and is voted into being by people that you vote for and who are accountable to you. You don't get to vote for people who make regulations. They can do whatever they want to do. They don't answer to you at all."
It remains one of the most eye-opening exchanges I've ever witnessed. It changed my perception of things. Ever since that morning, I have cast a wary eye on things like mask-wearing: is it a law, or is it regulation?
For the past two years the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has mandated wearing of masks in public places. And worse, there have been the mandated "get vaccinated or else" proclamations. Most of those have come from decree by Joe Biden (I refuse to honor him with the title "President").
NONE of this has been "law". Congress did not order masks or "vaccinations". That's what unelected government bureaucrats ordained. And no matter what a sitting president demands, he or she does not have the authority to insist that civilians get jabbed (the military is another matter, and the Supreme Court just decided 6 to 3 against members of the armed forces who want to refuse the shot: Thomas, Gorsuch and Alito were the dissenting justices).
Masks and "vaccines" against COVID-19 have become the most egregious and blatant power grab in American history. Thankfully, earlier this week a federal judge struck down mask mandates on public transportation. You may have seen the photos of airline passengers tearing their masks off and rejoicing.
The Biden "administration" hates that. And they are already trying to appeal it or work around the judge's decision.
Remember people: it's NOT a law that we've had to be putting up with for the past two years. It's a REGULATION. One whipped up out of thin air by our alleged "betters". A thing dreamt of by people we don't vote for and who will probably never be held accountable. For the damage and injury done, both physical and mental.
I received the COVID vaccine very early on. As a health care worker, and someone who is in constant contact with the general public, getting "vaccinated" made sense. I'll never know if it worked to ward away COVID. I do know that I contracted COVID late this past December (the symptoms were mild). But in hindsight if I had a chance to have a do-over, I would not have received the shot. As much as being an "up yours" to people like Fauci and Biden as it would be to regard my own health and well being.
Remember: if the mask mandate comes back, you don't have to comply. Because that's not a real law at all. And it never was.
Wednesday, April 20, 2022
New children's book asks: what is an abortion?
Big League Politics posted a story yesterday about a children's book titled - and I am not making this up - What's An Abortion, Anyway?
A book for children.
About abortion.
As if our kids aren't having enough of their childhood taken away from them already. Now comes this.
(And I can't even find a literary agent for the book I wrote about a little girl and her doggie...)
I remember the first time I learned what an abortion is. I was nine years old. I asked one of my parents "what's an abortion?" after seeing it mentioned on the six o'clock news. I will never forget the answer, it chilled me to the bone so coldly: "It's when a mother kills her child before it's born."
Why? Why would a mother do that?
Almost forty years later, I still can't understand. Oh, I know the rationale about it even if it goes unsaid: that some human life is "inconvenient" enough to be deemed disposable. But I just can't wrap my brain about how someone can carry an unborn child within her, to feel that kind of LIFE growing and being nurtured, only to have it vacuum aspirated out of existence.
If a book really wants to inform small children about what an abortion is, it should show them the photos I have seen of actual aborted fetuses. They should see the tiny lifeless bodies with faces and fingerprints of their own, chopped up into pieces on cold metal dishes. They should be told the real cost of an abortion: the regret that many women come to feel after having their babies butchered within their womb.
Books such as this, and too many materials in our (almost always public) schools, are placing an enormous and inappropriate burden on our children. They are expecting children to have a grasp of adult concepts, at an age when they should be enjoying being innocent of such things. I asked about what is an abortion because I sincerely wanted to know. If I was too young at the time, I trust my parents would not have told me. They would have said "you'll understand someday" if they thought I couldn't handle it. As it was, I had already learned about human reproduction at age seven. I was curious so I read about it in the World Book Encyclopedia. Interestingly, that article never mentioned abortion.
If we are going to teach children about abortion and make it sound safe and sanitary and routine, then we had also better be prepared to teach them about other "adult concepts", like God and theology and the notion that there is absolute good and evil in this world. Let's do that and let the children decide for themselves about the "sanctity" of abortion, if it's so unassailable an idea.
Would "progressives" be that accommodating? Somehow, I doubt it.
Monday, April 18, 2022
Mission accomplished!
Yesterday was Easter. And with it came an end to making a blog post for each day during this year's Lent. I'm in a bit of surprise that I was able to pull it off. There were times when I thought I wouldn't be able to make it. A number of close calls, like having to post from my iPhone while at a hospital with a client. But somehow, I was indeed able to make one blog post a day throughout Lent.
Forty-seven days ago, things were very different. I was having a severe depressive episode. Worse than that, I was feeling a lack of faith. But circumstances are better now. My faith in God has drastically changed. This season of Lent, was one where I focused on God more than I really let on with this blog. Some aspects of my life have been altered: for the better, I have to believe. I'm no longer feeling so alone, but instead see ever more clearly that I am indeed blessed with family: some by blood, and a lot by choice.
I know of no other way to put it: God worked something miraculous during the past month and a half, and I am a far better person for it.
As for my writing: I've discovered that this experiment exercised muscles that had long gone neglected and unused. I think I'm stronger as a writer, and more equipped, than I had been before this began. And I may endeavor to make at least one blog post a day, from here on out (whenever that will be). The Knight Shift will be twenty years old come January 2024. Lord willing it will still be around for that.
Until then, write I shall. A lot of people have told me over the years that they enjoy and appreciate the effort that I make in having this site. I want to do right by them.
Okay well, I wanted to write throughout Lent and I did! Now it's time to celebrate. I'm thinking... brownies!
Sunday, April 17, 2022
Saturday, April 16, 2022
Lenten Blogging 2022: Day 46
Last night I was on the phone with a friend and, as has happened with a lot of our conversations lately, it turned to spiritual matters. And that led to me sharing a little (I say "little" because the entire story runs WAY too long for a phone or blog post) about how I came to follow Christ, now a little over twenty-five years ago.
I haven't said very much about that, either here or elsewhere. I guess as with so much else it got washed away in the flotsam and jetsam that comes in the wake of persistent mental illness. So much that has been forgotten about while flailing my arms, trying my hardest to keep my head above the dark water.
But, I am a Christian. Deeper than that, I am a follower of Christ. It's not enough for me to simply go to church on Sunday. For me, it has to be more "real" than that. To follow Christ is a seven day, round the clock exercise. And I suppose that whatever has happened to me in the past, warts and all, is part of my testimony. I'm not particularly proud of it, but... there it is.
Maybe it's time that I shared a little of what happened to me, now a quarter century ago, that led to me giving up life for myself and starting to live for the One who gave all, so that we might have life abundant. I will try, at least, to convey some of what happened.
It all started during my senior year of high school. I had long wrestled with notions of God. Wondering if He was really "out there" somewhere. But in a startling flash of enlightenment - and I remember exactly where I was at Rockingham County High School when this happened - it hit me that the universe is too PERFECT than for it to have been a random fluke stemming from the Big Bang. It came over me that no matter how He did it, there must have been a master Architect who designed the cosmos and everything within it.
And that is how I came to believe in God.
But it is yet a far thing between that, and having a relationship with God.
I had thought that God didn't want anything to do with me. I had spent ten years being bitter at God, for things that I see now where not His fault at all. This is a fallen world still, and for as long as it persists there will be evil people within it.
I spent the next several years in tenuous comfort with the idea of God. Knowing He must be there, but feeling too damaged to approach any closer. I became like one who is "outside looking in" at the communion that others had with Him. Always at the window but never at the door to come inside. And I was like that, up until I came to what is now Elon University.
It began to happen my first week at Elon. It was a late Thursday afternoon, and I was on the way back to my room in what was the old Jordan Center dorms. I went inside the commons building to get drink from the machine, and there were people inside. Quite a few people. One of them greeted me. I said hi. "What are you guys doing?" She replied: "we're the Baptist Student Union. Want to join us for dinner?"
It turned out to have been a meal provided by one of the churches in the area. Real home cooked food... including mashed potatoes and green beans... offered to me for free. After a week of eating cafeteria food. Of course I was going to take them up on that!
I met some really good people that night. Including the faculty advisor and a local pastor who was the mentor of the group. Following dinner there was a time of fellowship and devotion, some time spent in the Bible. I thought it was amazing, and they accepted me though I was still far from being a Christian as they were. The following week after that first meeting I came with my own Bible: a student edition that had been a graduation gift (I had been at a community college prior to transferring to Elon) from the United Methodist congregation in my parents' neighborhood. And I began studying with my new friends. One of those friends, a few months after we met, ended up asking me if I'd like to be his roommate at his apartment, since his current roomie was about to leave. I took him up on that offer, and in January of 1996 I moved into my first real place as a young adult. But I digress...
I kept coming to Baptist Student Union, and Drew (my roommate) often told me that I should also check out Intervarsity Christian Fellowship, which met every Tuesday night at the student center. I didn't go anytime during my first year at Elon. But when my "sophomore" year began (keep in mind that when I finally graduated I was a seven year senior) I finally went to what was known as "IV". And there I met even more people, who were followers of Christ just like my friends in Baptist Student Union were.
Between Baptist Student Union and Intervarsity, for the first time in my life I felt surrounded by people who accepted me. Who I felt I could associate with, without feeling judged by others for my weaknesses. It was an AMAZING thing, to find that sense of close community. To this day I haven't found anything like that, and I miss it terribly.
But again, I digress...
I came to IV again the following week. And that night the group's president announced that there was going to be a retreat on the first weekend of October, at Sunset Beach on the North Carolina coast. Drew told me that he was going. "You should come along too, its going to be a lot of fun," he told me. I wasn't sure about it but he kept encouraging me to come along. And finally I did.
Because the Elon Intervarsity beach retreat became one of the most pivotal events in my life. It still is.
IV had rented four beach houses in close proximity to one another. One of them was deemed the "main house" and that's where most of our activity was at. That Friday night when we (Drew, our friend Calvin and I) arrived, the festivities were already underway. We went into the main house and joined the fellowship. And I sang the songs, and I enjoyed singing the songs with the others. And that was as close to God as I thought I would ever be. No one would ever know my secret: that I was not a Christian. That I could never be a Christian.
It was the next day, on Saturday, that the time of real retreat began. There was a group of guys - and I still have our picture somewhere - that went out to the sand dunes near the beach, to... I don't know what the right word is, "commune" with God? There was Brent, and Geoff, and Heang, and Scott, and Thomas, and Kendall, and me. And I listened to them as they talked about God and drawing closer to Him.
It was unlike anything I had ever taken part in. It was certainly a far cry from the stentorian legalism of the church-run school that I had attended over ten years earlier. That was a place where we worshiped God because we had to. But this was different. Here were people, not much different than me, who were worshiping God because they wanted to. And that was a very startling thing to behold.
There were other things that happened that weekend. And I began to notice something: there were others who were asking questions about God in general and about Christianity in particular. Other students were answering their questions. They were question that I had heard asked a hundred times and more over the years. But again, this time it was different. There was a real sense of love and joy behind the answers given. One person in particular, I was watching him and listening to him asking the questions that I wanted to ask. He became a proxy for me, and my curiosity about... well, about what all of this was really all about.
I remember walking the beach that afternoon with a new friend, also named Drew. We spoke of things and it remains one of the deeper conversations that I have had in my life. In his own way, Drew nudged me to consider God a little deeper than I had before. And I'm going to forever be thankful that we had that time together.
Well, we all spent the rest of the afternoon and evening having fun. Making hot dogs and hamburgers for dinner. More fellowship and singing. Playing on the beach. And I noticed my "proxy" was still asking questions.
I will never forget it as long as I live. I had gone back to the house I was staying in for something, and then came back to the main house. It was about 9 on Saturday night. I went into the front door and saw my "proxy" in the living room. But there was something new about him. He was radiating. He was aglow with a light I had never seen before.
Clearly, something had overcome my friend. I asked Scott "what just happened?"
"He accepted Christ," Scott replied.
"He did?" I had never seen someone become a Christian before. Not really become a Christian anyway. There had been "being saved" that I had seen at Community Baptist School a number of times, but even as a child I thought those were cold and superficial.
What happened to our friend was different though. He was smiling, in a way that was practically alien to me.
It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.
And I knew then that whatever he had, I wanted too.
But I still felt too damaged, too imperfect, too flawed than to be able to have something like that in my own life.
Later that evening, and again I will never forget this, I found two friends - who happened to have been in the very first class I attended at Elon - who were talking. Their names were Brent and Cindy. And I asked them if I could talk to them. And they said sure. And we went into an empty room in the main house.
I ended up telling them everything.
I told them about the abuse. About the doubts I had in my heart and mind about God. About so much, that just came pouring out of me. I told them that I wanted what our friend had, but I didn't know how to do that.
They didn't judge me. They didn't think any less of me. Instead they prayed with me. A prayer that was the first step on the long road that lay ahead of me for the rest of my life.
It wasn't a prayer of salvation that I spoke that night. But it was a prayer, asking God to show me something. To heal my heart. To answer the questions I had. To guide me toward however this was going to end up.
I went to sleep that night feeling more fulfilled than I ever had felt before.
Well, the retreat ended the next day around noon. We all got in our cars and headed back to campus. I left the retreat, but the retreat couldn't leave me. I came back to Elon a different person. Someone who had begun to question his heart as never before.
I spent the next few weeks going to every Intervarsity meeting, including a small group every Monday night. I listened, I asked questions. I shared the thoughts in my head about all of this. I couldn't quench my spirit now thirsty for a sense of peace and serenity. I wanted what my friends had. I still felt unworthy. Again, too damaged.
There was a nearby church that had worship times on campus, every Sunday afternoon. It was called Elon Celebration. I had been going every week. A lot of the IV people went too.
It was the first Sunday of November, 1996. After worship some of us went to nearby Harden cafeteria to have lunch. And it was while I was eating spaghetti that one of my friends, also named Chris, unexpectedly, gave me his Bible.
It had originally been his grandmother's Bible, he said. I couldn't accept this, I told him.
What happened after that, I am really not sure about. Chris and Brent and another friend, Dalerie, were at my table. They began to pray. I felt something inside yanking at me, hard. It was something terrible, that was trying to stay alive. I felt like I was being torn apart. At one point I think I lost consciousness. Chris asked me if I was all right.
"I want it to stop. I want it to stop. I want it to STOP!"
I couldn't tell you the words that I spoke, but in that moment of desperation and darkness, at long last I was able to overcome the hurt and destruction that had been in my life, and turned for the first time to God.
Dalerie was weeping.
I felt... different. Relieved. Like the heaviest weight that could possibly be upon a person, had been lifted. I felt new. Regenerated. I felt alive as I had never felt alive before.
And that is how, for the first time in my life, I turned to Christ. And it remains the most significant thing that I have ever done.
Of course, there were some... difficulties... that came with becoming a Christian, at long last. A number of things happened in the wake of that, which I am still trying to figure out. And years later when the shadow of bipolar disorder fell upon me, my faith was jostled and shaken and too many times felt utterly shattered.
Yet, here I am still, twenty five years later. I turned to Christ on that day, and there hasn't been a day since that has been like what came before. Even in the darkest moments, I think there has been a sliver of my being that has held out in faith, that there was Someone bigger than me sustaining me through the tumult.
Twenty five years later, and I am still a new person. Still growing. Still becoming what God would have me to be, despite all my human frailties and failings.
I know of no other way to put it: "The thing WORKS."
And that is my testimony (absent some minor details).
