Co-creating With God

Recently, I was watching a TV segment, and Kathy Lee Gifford was being interviewed about several topics, including a movie she wrote and starred in, and which was set in Scotland. And while she “puts herself out” as a professing Christian, Kathy Lee included scenes related to drunkenness and premarital sex in her movie; something I believe was wholly unnecessary. (And from my point of view, it would have merited a one star rating either way).

But be that as it may, during the interview Mrs. Gifford made a couple of statements which I liked a great deal.

“I think as God’s most magnificent creation, while we live out our lives here, we ought to be involved in co-creating with Him.”

(and)

“As long as there is a pulse, there is a plan.”

In terms of the latter statement, I am well past 70 now, and I can identify with it better than I possibly could have thirty years ago. And, as a result, every day I pray, “Lord, don’t let me miss whatever remains of my destiny.”

However, I wish to focus on the first of her two statements here.

“I think as God’s most magnificent creation, while we live out our lives here, we ought to be involved in co-creating with Him.”

Any serious student of the Bible is well aware that God dreamed so pretty awesome dreams for each of us, by name, and as individuals, before He made the world and the stars.

Pt. 2

I love scriptures like,

“Before I ever took my first breath, you planned every day of my life.” (Psalm 139:16)

(and)

“The Lord will accomplish that which concerns me.” (Psalm 138:8)

(and)

“I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord beseech you that you walk worthy of the vocation to which you have been called.” (Eph. 5:1)

Co-creating with God

I like that phrase a great deal. Just as our Creator dreamed some pretty magnificent dreams, and spoke those dreams into existence, something which the Book of Genesis describes as “work,” He has also given each of us a work to accomplish, whether our lives are relatively short, as one precious Christian classmate of mine, or whether they are exceptionally long, as one of my ancient preacher grandfathers who lived to the amazing age of 108.

In Philippians 2:13, we read,

“For it is the Father’s good pleasure both to will and act in you according to His purposes.”

I think we are called to adopt the Mind of Christ for our lives, and having done so, all that is left is to practice it. And practicing it is all about bringing God’s hopes, dreams and expectations for us to fruition by deliberate, tangible actions which emulate those very dreams which God has instilled within us.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

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THE JUST SHALL LIVE BY FAITH

 Martin Luther, the Catholic priest who became the father of the Protestant Reformation, was "doing penance" for his sins one day, climbing the steps of a German cathedral... on his knees, across rocks and broken glass.

And then suddenly, he heard a voice from above.

"Rise, Martin Luther. The just shall live by faith!"

And he rose, content that Jesus was the author and finisher of his faith, and that there was nothing he could do to add or detract from his own salvation.

by William McDonald, PhD

AN APOCRYPHAL PRAYER OF THE 12 YEAR OLD JESUS

*I once completed my own paraphrase of the New Testament Book of Philippians. That undertaking was a life changing event. It gave me an entre into the Apostle Paul which I'd never experienced. Almost as if I were given the privilege of walking into that Roman cell, sitting down beside the writer of the majority of the New Testament, and getting to know him as a brother and friend. This prayer provided me very much the same effect.

Father in heaven

As I have gotten older I have realized who I am and the purpose You have for me. And in spite of my age, as much as lies in me I am determined to follow through with the plan we created together…before we made the worlds.

Holy Father, I admit it. I love my life, and I am not eager to lay it down. And yet, I am looking forward to the years which lie ahead, and the short season in which You have assured me I will do the most magnificent things, miraculous things to bring glory to Your name.

And yet…

I enjoy the young life you have afforded me.

Why, only yesterday, my cousin John and I borrowed my step-father Joseph’s rowboat and spent some time casting my new net. We caught a few small ones which we cooked on the beach. They were absolutely delicious. We did well when we made fish, didn’t we? (I guess that’s a rhetorical question).

And yet, I have read the prophecies of the Old Testament. I know the plans You have for me. I am all too familiar with my young end. The end of life as I know it here. The path which ultimately leads to the cross; the pathway that I must take to join You once again in heaven.

Strange. This thing called ‘flesh,’ since ‘til now I knew no time, nor limitation. To be anywhere, to do anything, to fill up the expanses of the universe; which you and I spoke into existence.

And now to fill up this small frame, a body in which I have agreed to confine myself throughout the countless ages to come. An altogether new experience for me. Separated from You for a season; in order to identify more closely with our noblest creation.

Mankind.

Father, give me the wherewithal to live above temptation. Make provision for the years which stretch out before me. Strengthen me to fulfill the primary task for which I put on this flesh.

I lift my hands to heaven, and give You the praise due Your holy, most worthy name.

Selah

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

TURNING IN MY XEROX MACHINE

Pt. 1

I have previously written about a teaching I did at the residential ministry in which I currently counsel, and mentor women who have been released from prison.

I was teaching on the topic of The Mind of Christ, and I said,

“In the Book of Philippians Paul speaks of Jesus’ decision to divest Himself of His majesty and glory for the space of 33 years, and take on flesh, in order to die for our sins on the cross. And during the life that He lived out in front of us, the Savior role-modeled an humble, unpretentious life of a man.”

(and)

“That willingness to set aside His glory and majesty for a season was all about a mindset, what we refer to as The Mind of Christ; a mindset that we should also emulate.”

(and)

“In Philippians Chapter 3, Paul speaks about his own Christian role model, and the life he has led for so long, and he encourages his readers to copy his example.”

And then, I spontaneously added,

“You know the mindsets we adopt, and practice should emulate those of our Lord and Master. And using a metaphor based on what Paul said in Philippians 3, I think it’s kinda like a Xerox machine. When the copier is in good shape, and full of ink, it puts out a virtually perfect copy. However, when it is old, and/or the ink is low, the quality of the copy just doesn’t measure up.

(and)

“A believer’s mindset, and resulting attitudes, choices, goals,  character, words and actions are a lot like that. We can produce a remarkably good copy of Christ’ mindset, and life, and bring honor to the One whom we love, or the copy we produce can leave much to be desired, and bring dishonor to the Lord of our lives.”

 Pt. 2

All that being said, I dreamed a dream last night which, as it fell together, has everything to do with my recent teaching.

I went on to say,

“In my dream, I was carrying something rather bulky, and quite heavy. And as I was walking, I came to a body of water, and found myself wading into it. Up to my ankles. Up to my knees. Up to my thighs. And now I reached a barge of sorts, and I found myself climbing up onto it, and setting my burden down for a moment.

“And as I stood upon the barge, I noticed two women. One on my left and one on my right. The one on my right was a former client and intern; a young lady named Rita. The one on my left was a former client and intern named Iris.

“And I was so glad to see them after such a long time that I could not help but hug each one of them; before stooping to retrieve my burden. And it was then that I realized that I was holding a… copy machine.

“And then, suddenly, none other than the God-man appeared before me, having just walked through a door, and I realized that the smile on His face could not be contained. And I smiled in turn, and offered the copy machine to Him. And then, and then He reached out with those powerful, nail-scarred hands, and took the heavy piece of equipment from me.”

It was then that I awoke. And I immediately realized that the dream I had just dreamed characterized my earlier teaching well.

Pt. 3

The interpretation?

The copier I found myself carrying was all about the mindsets, attitudes, goals, character, words and actions which I produced during the course of my Christian life.

The water represented what Christians metaphorically refer to as “The River Jordan.” The cessation of this mortal life. The advent of life eternal.

The barge? The last, fleeting moments of my life on earth, and an opportunity to bid farewell to two of those dear souls whom I had impacted on the earth, and perhaps admonish them to continue to copy me, as I attempted to copy the One who loved me, and gave Himself for me.

(And interestingly enough, one of these dear young ladies, Rita, once shared the most marvelous words with me that any human being ever spoke in my presence.

“Dr. Bill, I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ll go for you when you can no longer go. I’ll speak for you when you can no longer speak. I’ll reach, teach and keep people in your name; long after you have gone on to your reward”).

And I think the exchange of the copier speaks for itself.

As I prepare to follow the Lord of my life across heaven’s threshold, He accepts this tangible representation of my mindsets, attitudes, words, actions, and character, as well as my attempt to serve as a faithful role model on the earth.

And now Jesus smiles, as if to say,

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of thy Lord.”

I can think of nothing better.

 

God grant that I walk worthy of the vocation to which I have been called. God grant that I adopt and practice the Mind of Christ. May my attitudes, goals, words, actions and character mirror yours, and may I fulfill the plans you dreamed for me before you made the worlds.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

If you wish to copy, share or save, please include the credit line, above

STANDING IN FOR AMY

 I step out my front door about 4am almost every weekday morning, and walk the streets of my neighborhood, or adjacent four lane highway. And while I can’t say I’m losing any weight, at least I’m not gaining any either.

Odd, how one’s sensibilities seem to be heightened in the wee hours of the morning; at least within the ‘confines’ of the great outdoors. For I have had several unexplainable experiences during my nightly treks.

The sense of smell. More than once I have been walking along the sidewalk, and a vehicle has sped by. And suddenly, close behind the passing vehicle, the fragrance of perfume, or the odor of a cigarette. Perhaps my heightened sensitivity to smell during the wee hours has everything to do with the relative quietness of the evening, or the lower temperature, or greater humidity.

However, none of the foregoing factors can explain my having seen things which I never expected to see during the course of my life on earth.

The ethereal, momentary appearance of my dearly departed pooch. The equally brief appearance (and disappearance) of what I am convinced was one of God’s heavenly beings.

And then there was a woman (for lack of a more adequate characterization) and her dog, adjacent to the sidewalk. She was standing in the landscaped area of a bank, and singing the most eerie song known (or unknown) to mortal man. (Needless to say, I “kept on keeping on”).

I don’t know why I have been privy to more miracles than you “can shake a stick at.” I only know I have, (and so many more than I could begin to recount here). To be sure, I’m nobody special, and I certainly haven’t done anything deserving of even one sign or wonder.

Pt. 2

But, among the most amazing of miracles which I have experienced is a series of “near misses” which have accompanied me during my young, middle and older adult years.

During the course of my job at a phosphate mine, and while working the evening shift, I walked between a dragline and its massive swinging bucket, as it did what it did best. However, in spite of the darkness which surrounded me, the operator witnessed my predicament and dropped the twenty ton bucket against the slope of the deep pit which he had been digging. I was only moments from certain death.

Then, there was the time when I was driving home from work one day, and managed to flip my car on a rain-soaked road. Having rolled off the road and onto the shoulder, it came to rest on its wheels; resulting in plenty of damage to the automobile, and little or none to me.

Then again, in the past couple of decades my wife and I were nearing our house one day, along that same stretch of road which I walk on a recurring basis, when a car ran a stop sign; perhaps fifty feet ahead of us. My wife immediately locked up the brakes of our 1980 something green Oldsmobile. In the other car, two little children stared out their rear window at us; abject terror registering on their faces.

There was no question. Someone, or multiple someone’s were about to die. However, as I sat on the passenger side of the vehicle I was struck with the strangest possibility of escape. Assuming the position of driver from the unlikeliest of positions, I wrested the steering wheel from my wife with my left hand, and I managed to steer our car behind the offending vehicle. Having missed the automobile by all of a foot, our car immediately went into a 180 degree spin, and finally came to rest next to the border fence of a nearby home; our front end facing in the direction which our back end had been facing only moments before.

Pt. 3

But allow me to digress a moment.

"Amy" was a classmate of mine, though a year behind me in school. And while I don’t recall exchanging so much as one word with her, we were both members of our high school chorus.

Amy was the daughter of a local minister, and his wife, was a fine Christian girl, was a member of several high school academic and vocational groups, and was blessed with plenty of friends.

Sadly, at the tender age of 17, and during her senior year of high school, Amy was involved in a one vehicle accident, and succumbed to her injuries.

I mean, who can account for it? The loss of such a person of excellence and rich potential? Not only this, but it seems she surrendered her life to providence “first time out;" at such a young and inestimably unfair age.

Yet, I have experienced a significant number of what I often refer to as “near misses,” (or near death experiences) during the course of my life, and I have only recounted a few here.

Did I mention my sensitivity to my environment seems to be heightened in the wee hours of the morning? Then, last night perhaps one of the most amazing, although subtle miracles I have been privileged to experience.

As I was in the process of completing my hour long walk, I heard, (or rather perceived) the voice.

“I want you to stand in for Amy.”

(Even as I type these words, a shiver runs up my spine).

Afterward

Granted, it was only a perception. But this perception literally “came out of nowhere.” I hadn’t been thinking of Amy, nor any of several long-lost classmates who “left us before their time.”

…“I want you to stand in for Amy.”

As someone who has been directly associated with various helping ministries over the course of half a century, (including the roles of pastor, professor, youth leader, mentor and counselor) I like to think I have made difference in multiplied thousands of lives.

Yet, in spite of everything which has already fallen together in my life, hardly a day goes by that I don’t whisper a prayer.

“Lord, please don’t let me miss out on whatever still remains of my destiny. Please don’t allow me to miss out on each and every circumstance and event you have planned for me, and the people whom you have yet to set in my pathway.”

Now, at the grand old age of 70, I hope I have adequately fulfilled the role of personal emissary for that dear precious soul who never had the opportunity to live out a long and fulfilling life on the earth.

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

2020

What can I say about this year?

It has been perfect(ly horrendous).

Of course, in the optometric world, the numbers 2020 imply clear vision. However, there has been nothing clear, nor perfect about this year.

Civil unrest. Black Lives Matter. Riots, burning, looting. Protestors in the street. Pillage, murder and mayhem.

The Coronavirus has spread across the world, and millions have contracted it in this country; with over a fifth of a million people succumbing to it here. You go to pay for your purchases at a convenience store, or step into the teller’s line at a bank, and the colorful masks make us look like a gang of robbers; patiently waiting to commit a heist.

Fires sweeping our western states. Death and destruction.

Hurricanes; the likes of which we have never seen before. Having used up the names on the official list, the weather service has been constrained to use Greek letters to identify the storms. Approaching mid-October and they are still forming by the scads.

Some have theorized that this unusual series of calamities must be the judgement of God on the earth. Others blame the former, and latter of the four, which I have enumerated, on Global Warming. (And for that matter, it occurs to me that Global Warming may simply be a tool in God’s hands to inflict judgement on the earth to punish mankind’s willful ways). To be fair, I honestly don’t know God’s part in all of it.

What I do know is that the Creator has never, and will never be caught unawares, and that He knew our individual hearts, thoughts, characters, attitudes, agendas and actions before we took our first breath; for that matter, before He made the worlds and stars.

And as a believer, it encourages me that 2020 will pass. But more importantly, I am encouraged that I have a home in heaven, and that the experiences, and resulting cares and anxieties of this life are just a blink in the fabric of time, and that “the suffering of this world is not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us.”

by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending

SEEING THE WORLD IN BLACK & WHITE

 (It was on this date, October 2, 1992, that my National Guard unit and I returned from Homestead, Florida; having served there 40 days after Hurricane Andrew)

It was August of 1992, and our local National Guard unit had been mobilized to assist the citizens of Dade County. As a result of Andrew, a Category five level hurricane, thousands of dwellings and businesses were savagely demolished.

In a newspaper article I wrote later, I refer to the utter lack of color which met my eye wherever I turned. Every building, and I mean every building, for twenty miles in any direction displayed some degree of damage, and a majority were reduced to little more than rubble. And oddly enough, something that is foreign to us in Florida, every tree and every bush was completely stripped of their leaves and flowers.

During the forty days I served in Miami, I began to experience an unusual amount of fatigue, and after our unit was deactivated, three weeks elapsed before I felt like my old self.

It was only later that it occurred to me that much of the apparent tiredness and lack of energy was the result of sensory deprivation, since during those dawn to dusk days in Homestead, Florida my vision was limited to white, black and gray, and an almost total lack of the color green.

As human beings, we are meant to see in color. Having ever viewed the world in color, our brains are not equipped to experience life in black and white.

by William McDonald, PhD