The Legacy of the Soul

Isaiah 64:4: "For since the beginning of the world, men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen, O God, beside Thee, what He hath prepared for them who waiteth for Him."

"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
was not spoken of the soul."
(Longfellow)

Somewhere... somewhere... somewhere... the human soul will ever exist. The soul of us is the real us... the person - though not visible to the human eye - is who we are. We are not primarily a physical body, for it is limited by time and physique.

And every cemetery declares it to be true.

The real person is (1) what he thinks, (2) what he decides, (3) what (or who) controls him, (4) what he is and does when no one else can see him, (5) what (or Who) determines his values, and (6) what (or Who) determines his actions.

The Bible declares the soul of humankind (SEE Genesis 2:7) to be a distinct, unprecedented, totally new entity. "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground (physical body), and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life (the spirit of humankind); and man became a living soul." There never had been "a soul" before. None of the myriad heavenly creatures God had previously created "had a soul". It is an entity peculiar and specific to humankind.

When God said in Genesis 1:26, "Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness..." the inference is strong that He was saying, "Let Us do something different from any previous creature we have created. Before, none has been created in Our image, after Our likeness. This being will have a soul...none before has had a soul."

Any grade school student knows that there is something amazingly unique about earthlings. As far as we know, earth's human inhabitants are the only universal creatures like us.

This strongly infers that our Creator has a unique and specific plan for us. What is the legacy of the human soul? (The Bible being its own best commentary), it is that we should be in His image.

Before there were creatures of any kind, or matter of any kind, God planned for His human creation to be like Him, and this likeness can be explained in dozens of ways. What is critical is that this gracious, benevolent Creator carved out of Himself a place, a niche, a specific and personal place for each one of us. It is reserved of and within Himself just for each human soul. He planned for each human soul to experience a personal, different, specific, eternal relationship with Him that no other human soul would or could have.

He provides this very personal experience to each of us by sending His Son, Jesus Christ, into the world...to life life just as we do...and offer Himself a once for all sacrifice for our sins. By a simple act of totally trusting in that Calvary sacrifice by His Son, each of us can enter in to the legacy of our souls.

I invite anyone reading these lines to call, e-mail, or write me, and I would be happy to explain God's plan of salvation.

W. L. Boone
P.O. Box 2487
Orofino, ID 83544
lesboone @ juno.com
(208) 746-5327

It Happened Again...

For the unmpteenth time, I managed to run a sharp sliver into one of my fingers. Thus unpleasant experience cannot be avoided however careful a carpenter is.

The idea is to get all of it out during the initial probing, poking and digging. First you try to get ahold of it with the ever-present pocket knife, and then carefully pull that beggar out in the same direction it went in. Then you hope you got it all.

If you did not, three results occur: one, it will continue to be tender; two, it will form a callous-like covering over the skin's attempt to heal; and three, it will not heal. Two, additional attempts were made to dig that sliver out over the next, few weeks, but to no avail.

Yesterday, with the sharp point of my pocket knife, and sharp pointed tweezers specifically designed for sliver removal, a third attempt was made - all with appropriate, blow-by-blow, verbal comments to she-who-must-be-obeyed of the painful procedure...but again to no avail.

"It has to be in there", I observed, "for it will not heal". She casually observed that I should try soaking it "like that other deep one you had at camp meeting". (That one refused the unsuccessful efforts of two ER surgeons who both agreed "that there cannot be a sliver in there." I knew better. I could feel it, and it would not heal. It ultimately shot out of its "silo" like a rocket after I had finished a couple of hours washing dishes at camp meeting.)

As it is said, "nothing ventured, nothing gained." Since it was already opened and bleeding, I sat for fifteen minutes or so soaking that finger. Then, with some vigorous squeezing, there it was - about a quarter of an inch long offense sitting and exposed like a beached whale. In one day and night, it felt fine and had begun to heal.

Sin - either commited or inborn -is as foreign to the soul as slivers are to the body, and it will continue to give us pain and grief until it is removed by God's remedy - the shed blood of Jesus Christ. God knew that we needed a Savior from the soul's evil intruder, and provides salvation from sin through His forgiveness and cleansing. When the "sliver" is out, healing can start.

None of Us Live Unto Ourselves

What we do affects others. A life given over to sin will affect posterity.Ada Jucks, born in Germany in 1740 became a drunkard, thief and a tramp. Professor Pellman of the University of Germany traced her descendants for 80 years. Out of 709, 106 were born out of wedlock, 144 were beggars, 181 lived disreputable lives, 62 lived on charity, 76 were convicts, 7 were convicted of murder. They cost Germany in the 80 years, in court expenses, etc. $1,250,000.

Max Jukes, a notorious no-good from New York was another striking illustration of how sin affects following generations. Out of 1200 of his descendants only 20 learned a trade, 10 of that number learned it in prison. Of the balanace 310 were shiftless no-goods, 300 died in infancy, 50 women were prostitutes, 400 died prematurely from lives of deep sin, 7 were murderers, 60 were habitual thieves, 130 were convicted criminals, and 440 had contracted venereal disease.

Compare this with the record of Jonathan Edwards. Of 1,394 descendants studied, 285 were college graduates, 13 were college presidents, 65 were college professors, 100 were lawyers, 30 were judges, 100 were ministers, 80 were elected to public office, 75 were navy officers, and 60 were successful authors. There was not a criminal among the whole lot.

No Small Print

You know the kind...all of the exceptions and exemptions and restrictions few of us read...the kind that would require a magnifying glass or the vision of a five-year-old...the kind that covers little but the glaringly obvious.

The gospel has no fine print, with no rules cunningly shaded, with no surprise requirements, and no hidden clauses.

Jesus did not believe in surprise expectations when He clearly outlined what He required of His followers. No earthly leader in any area of human citizenery was more "up-front" than Jesus Christ.

He plainly stated that each Christian would bear a cross (SEE Matthew 16:24). He forthrighly declared to His listeners that unless they were willing to sacrifice their lives for His sake and the gospel's - so that they could eventually save them- could not be His disciple. He said if anyone would be a part of His kingdom, he would have to humble himself and become as a little child (SEE Matthew 18:4). He made clear that the way up was down.

He said His followers would suffer; would be mistreated and misunderstood; would be hated by the world; would live a life of "straight and narrow" behavior; and that his hours and days would be marked by prayer, fasting, godliness, integrity, purity and wholesomeness.

B-U-T!! He also made it clear that those who follow Him through their lives on earth would have constant peace; would be freed from the domination of sin; would walk in light, not darkness; would have peace of mind; would share in intimate fellowship with (1) the heavenly Father, (2) with Himself; (3) with the Holy Spirit, and (4) with brothers and sisters in Christ. He promised eternal life to each follower; constant, Divine help, power and grace; resurrection from the grave, and heaven with joys beyond human comprehension.

On top of that, amazingly!, He promised that each believer would share in His glory (SEE John 17:22-24), and ultimately would receive and crown of glory. And then! bogglingly!, He said that He would reward every follower for their investments in His kingdom, after supplying them with the grace and power to accomplish it all! It is too much for our poor minds to absorb. All we can do is praise and thank Him!

Mark's Testimony

Note: Mark Boone, an instantly delivered alcoholic, gives this testimony Easter Sunday 2009 at the Columbia View Wesleyan Church, Portland, Oregon.

Sometimes the hardest people to be convinced of the power of God are those who have been long familiar with a Christian environment. I was raised in the church, parents pastors for 50-plus years. I've been a Wesleyan as long as anyone here, since before the Pilgrims merged with the Wesleyan-Methodists in '68 or '72 or whenever. Did a concert in this very church 20-25 years ago, but at some point I decided God had dropped the ball and I was doing this life thing my way. Until recently, I hadn't felt the Spirit of God for a couple of decades.

Two years ago, around Easter, I experienced an aortic dissection, much more serious than a heart attack. It produced several heart attacks. It is nearly always fatal-- something like 95% fatality. I lay unconscious, dying, with my family and loved ones crying out to God to spare me. The surgeon at QHSU said pre-op that the damage to my heart had already cost me my left leg, my kidneys, and most likely significant brain damage. "We're just trying to save his life," he said.

During the 12 minutes I was clinically dead, I saw myself on the operating table, people in scrubs around me, an experience that haunted me for over a year after. The surgeon told my family after the 9-hour operation that there were several instances that he would return to a portion of my heart to repair damage he had seen minutes earlier and find it had healed on its own! The legs I walked up here on are mine, and they work just fine! My kidneys that were gone suddenly began functioning normally, and tests show they are fine! My brain is, well... the same! I'm a medical miracle.

Oh, so that's what happened, Mark! Anyone would turn to God after that kind of ordeal! No, not even close. After waking from a coma several days later, I was adamant that I would not be buffaloed into a commitment to God. Your dear pastor and some of you came to visit me in recovery, and I politely but firmly resisted any perceived pressure from anyone towards the Lord.

God had healed my physical heart -- I couldn't have stopped Him from that if I wanted to -- but he could not heal my deepest need, my hurting soul, without my invitation. After a year of painful recovery, last Easter I was, some might say, as far away from God as one could be.

Now you're thinking, what in the world happened, after all of that, that changed this guy?

I won't take the time now to explain the situation except to say that, drama-wise, it pales in comparison to what I just described. That's a story for another time, and I never get tired of telling it, but, basically, I was asked a simple question by a complete stranger, and in the split second I had to consider my response, I realized beyond any doubt that the real question posed to me was, "Mark-child, are you done?" and the One asking through this total stranger was God Almighty Himself... my Creator... my Heavenly Father, who gave His only Son for me.

I was so overwhelmed and outclassed in every way by the Presence of God that I could not mentally fall to the ground fast enough. That Presence has not left me for an instant since, because my answer to Him and to the stranger was, "Yes. I am done."

Lest there be any misunderstanding, I did not just ooze imperceptibly into some warm, fuzzy experience that made me smile from time to time! Brother, I was changed! That song we sang about power, I didn't write that from a story I read about someone else. That happened to me! I could look inside myself and see it!

The Bible says that after Jesus died He went to hell. I don't recommend this at all! Don't go to hell! Maybe that's irreverant -- I'm thinking of writing a son named that! Anyway, a couple thousand Easter Eves ago, Jesus went to hell. He went straight to hell, and He did not go quietly! He didn't knock and ask politely. He didn't ask at all. He walked in there past all the mighty demons in the depths of hell, walked straight into Satan's stronghold, the devil's Fort Knox, and with the power and authority of God He took the keys of death and hell. That's what Easter is about, baby!

Listen, you want to champion the sting of death, the victory of the grave? Come to the cross!

You want to avoid the spiritual eternal agony of hell? Come to the cross!

You want to experience the unspeakable joy and peace, even in turmoil, disappointment and heartache? I'm tellin' you, come to the cross!

He's the way.

Praying Ground

It seems like we have great preoccupation with ground or real estate, and place high value on it. It could be classified in terms of "yardage", "mileage", and "acreage".

Billions of dollars are spent by millions of individuals to gain a few yards of ground. Records are painfully sought and high prices awarded for those desired yards of ground.

When it comes to mileage covered, we are a world in motion. No society has ever been as mobile as ours. Our shrinking globe is a grid of networking transportation. Going has easily replaced doing as modern man's pleasure activity. The many miles driven or the great amount of ground covered and viewed has become important in our lives today.

And acreage may be the greatest motivator of all time - past and present. We crave some ground to call our own. Ownership is a powerful force. A tiny, fifty by 100 feet plot of ground can consume a person and become his or her master.

There is another type of ground that has even higher potential and superior value that is generally depreciated and forgotten. It is praying ground. The relationship towards God is somewhat like that of spoiled children towards their parents. The only time the parents are important or sought out is when they need money or other assistance. How sad!

There are so many valuable aspects of praying ground that it should attract multitudes to acquire it. The truth is that there are miles of elbow room on praying ground. The area is unlimited - you can use all you want, and it is free.

Praying ground is where our eyes are opened. The blindfold of the flesh is removed and we can see as God sees. Limitations are reclassified as possibilities. Hope is reborn and courage renewed. Anything becomes possible on praying ground.

Praying ground is where chains are broken and captives are freed. The mightiest, most binding, addictive, habitual shackles of demons and men are shed as a tattered garment on praying ground. The "inevitable" is arrested and the irresistible is neutralized.

On praying ground we see through kinder eyes. Personal hurts and pain, and loss, and criticism become mere inconveniences when viewed beside the cross. Hard passions are softened. Vengeance is submerged in a sea of forgiveness, and hatchets are buried all over the place!

Mountains of disappointment are left there, along with disagreements and disillusionments. Piles of doubts and fear and quickly discarded.

Praying ground is where transformations occur. Sighs are turned to singing, and confusion is changed to peace. The fearful become fighters, and the losers face the rising sun, for here is failure's graveyard.

Rebirth and regeneration are characteristics of praying ground.

The message and music of praying ground is: God is our adequacy. He is enough. Don't give up, and don't cave is. But if you have, you can start again - on praying ground!

Storm on the Bering!

This is every sailor's nightmare - a storm at sea - especially at night!
Few of us take the time to imagine the "cost" of the seafood we buy, prepare and consume for our meals. All of it comes with rigorous, cold, difficult, soaking-wet effort, and much of it at the risk of human lives.

Customarily, the crews of seafood processing ships eat and toil sixteen hours a day that they fish, and, maybe?, read or sleep for eight. Work for sixteen hours and rest for eight. When they get to port (usually Dutch Harbor) with full and frozen storage lockers in the bottom of the ships, all hands turn out to offload, even if some had just gone to sleep in their coffin-like bunks.

Fishing vessels are not designed for comfort, and the 151 foot long ship our son, Mark, signed on to for a three month stint was soon at their fishing area- the Bering Sea - where the seas are typically rough in decent weather, and the storms are frequent and rougher.

Mark's first storm scared him more than any other frightening life experiences before and since - and he prayed more and harder! The fearful and repetitious pounding of giant waves, combined with the darkened crew's quarters (someone was always asleep), made sleep and peace of mind impossible. In his mind, Mark was certain that they were going to go down, and would soon be in the freezing, salty embrace of vicious, mountainous seas.

He said to himself, "I am not going to go down in this darkened, rolling, tossing bunk. I'm going up on the deck and talk to Colin (their skipper)''.

He stumbled up steep, iron steps and opened the deck hatch to the ominous shriek of screaming, salty sheets of stinging spray, quickly grasping the ever-present lifelines strategically placed for night movement on slanting, pitching decks.

Immediately Mark's attention was drawn to huge seas where their comparatively tiny craft bore directly down on each one, with intrepid, courageous challenge. They appeared to be a small bit of foam or piece of flotsam in comparison. The terrific pounding came as the result of their ship's temporary respite on each wave's crest, and then right down into the yawning trough of each succeeding, monstrous wave. "We have to be going down," Mark seriously concluded.

He forged his way to the lighted wheelhouse intending to ask Colin how long this could continue, and when they would go down, and what their chances of survival might be? Mounting the deck, he paused in wonder. Colin was sitting in a deck chair smoking his pipe and reading something. He never even had a finger on the wheel, but had it locked in place - directly challenging each threatening sea!

Without a word, Mark carefully made his way back to his darkened bunk. If the captain was not afraid, he had no reason to worry. Colin had weathered many a Bering Sea storm, and obviously, Mark lived to tell me this story.

The application is clear. Our Captain has control of our storms. They are no threat to Him!