Evil in The Dark

I was 13 years old and walking home after wresting practice from the junior high.  It was a typical Oregon winter night in the valley.  The sun had gone down, leaving a brisk chill in the darkness.  I said goodbye to my friends and walked out into the night.  There was one streetlight in those days which cast a dim glow over the parking lot.  As I trudged around the few cars remaining, I turned right onto the road and began the trek home.  There was not, nor is there to this day, sidewalks along that particular stretch of road.  I walked  along the narrow shoulder , my feet shuffling in the gravel and I could hear the wind moving through the branches high above me in the evergreen trees.  The breeze tugged at my sweatshirt and I pulled the hood tight around my head.  The road led down a hill to a four way stop. Turning left led away from town into the country.  Turning right led to a long dark stretch of unlit road down past the bus garage and high school baseball field into town.  The road straight ahead was also unlit in those days but it was a much shorter journey to the lamp lit, sidewalk lined avenue I could see a few hundred feet in the distance. I made the decision and walked straight ahead, my chin lowered into my sweatshirt. As I moved through the darkness, my feet no longer shuffling in the gravel, but rather picking up their pace a bit, I could hear the sound of Ames Creek approaching before me. Fields stretched out to my right and left, the unmown grass making strange shapes and sounds as the wind blew though it.  The evergreens above me continued to sway to and fro in the dim moonlight, casting temporary shadows all around me.  As I approached the short bridge over the creek, my heart was pounding, my eyes wide as they searched the darkness which surrounded me.  And then I heard it, some small shuffling from beneath the bridge as I crossed to the other side. My ears strained  through the wind that blew across my hoodie, to identify what I was hearing.  I began to walk faster, towards the streetlights getting nearer.  All of my body wanted to look back, but I was terrified as to what I might see...Struggling to control the impulse to run, I began to reason with myself , "Its just the wind, its just the water or the branches, noting to be afraid of...".  And then I heard a noise in the ditch to my right...And  I ran!  My heart pounding, my eyes watering, I ran as only a 13 year old scared out of his mind can run.  I ran faster than I had ever ran in my life.  I hit the corner of Elm street and took the turn at full speed, my legs churning and my hood flapping behind me.  I ran a full block beneath the street lights now illuminating the pleasant tree lined avenue.  The warm lights spilling out of homes  caught the glow of my deathly white face as I flew past their living room windows.  Finally, I slowed down beneath a streetlight and gathered myself.  The wind still blowing, I mustered the courage to look back.  With my hands on my knees, my chest heaving, I looked back down the street towards the corner, and I could see, just beyond the light, hugging the darkness...nothing. 


Even to this day, I am always a bit concerned about what the darkness holds.  As a father, I have spent years putting to rest that same concern within my children.  " Daddy, leave the door open", " Daddy, could you leave the hall light on?"....Evenings too numerous to count spent teaching my children that Daddy will always strive to drive away the darkness...Whatever form that darkness may take.  And as the years have passed and my children have grown, that darkness has taken many differing forms.  And the light that must be shed is sometimes more difficult to cast than an open door, a brightly lit hallway.  Scripture tells us that people love to hide their evil in the darkness, away from the light ( John 3:19 ).  And nowhere is that more evident in the lives of people today than in the realm of social media.

Freed from the accountability of face to face interaction, people take to their phones and computers and say things that would have made our parents blush.  Angry at your parents?  Take to Facebook or twitter and tell the world how much you hate them.  Having a rough day at work? Using a limited number of characters, assassinate your bosses character.  Disappointed over a breakup? Spill the most innermost  hurts of your heart to 900 of your closest friends...In real time, tell everyone how you really feel!!...

But the latest social media phenomenon to spread amongst teenagers is the the actual definition of darkness.  On the website Ask.fm, you can log on and say whatever you want to others who belong to the site.  Here's how it works. You log onto the site and tell people they are free to ask you anything.  Some recent questions which I pulled from the site?.." Why are you such a slut?", " Why don't you kill yourself ?",  "How many people have you slept with?".  This is just a small sampling of the worst.  The great thing is you can say whatever you want because it's totally anonymous

To be true, many of the questions asked are perfectly harmless, but eventually, it seems that everyone is receives a hurtful question, a missile fired from the dark.  Safely hidden in anonymity, kids feel free to say words that wound, that hurt, that scar.  But even so, kids return en mass to the computer, their need to connect overwhelming their common sense as they invite everybody to  "Ask me anything "...

But more surprisingly than teenage kids lacking wisdom and opening themselves up to pain are the parents who turn a blind eye to the social media habits of their children. I have spoken to many parents who choose not to check on their childs social media. As their children return again and again to a place where deviants roam, where bullying is pervasive, far too many parents choose to remain, well, in the dark.  But the truth is, that as our children grow and change, so does the role we as parents must play.  Teaching our teenage children that words, whether stated or written, have power, and that we are all ultimately responsible for those words is not always met with the same gratitude as the hallway light.  But the evil that darkness hides in the perceived anonymity found on a computer or a phone has the power to cut us off from genuine relationships, destroy friendships and distort self worth...

As it turns out, evil exists, but not within our closets, beneath our beds or even on a darkened stretch of road, but within the darkness, where we refuse to shine the light.....


His eyes are on the ways of mortals;
    he sees their every step.
There is no deep shadow, no utter darkness,
    where evildoers can hide.-

Job 34:21-23

Woe to those who go to great depths
    to hide their plans from the Lord,
who do their work in darkness and think,
    “Who sees us? Who will know?” 

Isaiah 29:15

The Greatest Weapon in the Fight of Your Life

13 years ago, my wife and I were moving through our life at a comfortable pace.  We had two young children. Our house was comfortable and well maintained, the yard  manicured and our bedrooms clean, the beds made every morning.  We had taken vacations to visit our family in faraway states.  The lines of our life had fell upon comfortable places.  And then, with the birth of our third child, it changed.  Like so many other families, the unexpected occurred and our lives were thrown into a tailspin of doctor visits,  surgeries and medical complications until we finally settled into an uneasy period of vague unrest, an eye always scanning the horizon for the next traumatic event.  We moved on with our lives but things were different.  Outwardly, I'm certain it appeared as if we were fine, but there were small signs all around.  Our house and yard not as well maintained, bedrooms not as organized, vacations untaken.  Even as so many things in our lives were amazing, the vague specter of crisis was always just at the door.  My sleep habits suffered as The Unknown woke me up nightly, prompting me to check my children, to listen to their breathing as they lay in bed.  But something happened as I waited for the next crisis....Life moved on.  My children grew.  Seasons changed.  And I came to a startling realization.  I had been living with this constant unease for so long that I didn't know how to live without it.

I have discovered that I am not alone in this .... I have a friend who struggled for years beneath the crushing weight of financial obligations even though he had attempted to be faithful in every decision.  Now that his life has turned to blessings, he struggles with being critical, the joy that was once so evident in his life not so apparent.  The season has changed, but sadly, so has he.  And I understand... Even though the Lord has moved him from the desert to the place of promise, his eyes are still focused behind him, on the land he has already passed through.  I understand because I still feel the pull to do the same.

I know a man, a man who was once a great man of God in my life, a hero to many people.  He encountered a situation where bitterness was an appealing option.  In fact, there were no shortage of people in his life who told him that his anger towards the church was valid...And so he gave in.  The years have passed, and so has the man I knew, from a vibrant force for good within our community to a bitter, angry shell.  Even his health has suffered from his decision to give in as his body has wasted away and his countenance become hard.... And I understand.  I understand because I have felt the appeal to give in to the voices that tell me I would be justified, I would be right...

I spoke last week with an individual struggling with fear.  While these fears would sound baseless to many people, I could relate because I had felt them rob me of joy during my college years.  He was surprised as I responded with words that revealed my intimate knowledge of the issue, knowledge only someone who had wrestled with the same fears would possess.  I struggled when he asked me how I had overcome the grip which these fears had once held over me.  But after considering it for a moment as we stood in his driveway, wrapped in silence, I told him this...Sometimes you have to fight for your sanity. And the greatest weapon in the battle is the Truth.  

I cannot speak to everyone's situation, but I can speak as an expert to my own story.  In my darkest moments, whether those moments were filled with the darkness of depression, the absolutely paralyzing fear of losing a child or the sweet lies inherent in bitterness, the only thing which provided me the strength to get up and move forward was the truth.  The truth surrounding my family; that we are blessed.  The truth regarding the wrongs that have been done to me; that I have been forgiven so much, and only in forgiving others will I be free.  The truth about my fears; they do not reflect reality, and I will base my life upon reality...The truth.

Every day we must choose.  Some days that choice comes easy and without cost.  But often, that choice is a struggle, a fight.  But it is never a battle we must fight alone.  Scripture tells us that Jesus embodied truth and that the truth contained in Christ would set us free...I have raised my hands in church as I have heard that preached, surrounded by crowds of varying size.  But it has only been in my darkest moments, when I have felt beaten and alone, afraid and embittered, that I have discovered its truth...

What Has She done?!

Caution: If you are the children of Michelle and Don knight, reading this blog will cause you gastrointestinal difficulty and acute embarrassment

Today is the 25th anniversary of the day that I looked into my wife's eyes and heard her say " I do".  But what exactly has she done?

She gave birth to my mini-me, a curly blonde headed, chubby cheeked son.  Her very first words to our baby boy who had spent far too long a time in the birth canal, his cone head a testament to his prolonged arrival?  " You're not very cute, but I love you!"...Those words were just a foreshadowing of who she would be over the next 20 years as a mother, wife and  friend; honest, accepting and always loving...

What has she done?..When she felt that we needed to find a church, she went without me and found a church home.  When my job kept me away on Sundays, she prayed that God would provide a way to bring me back to church...And He did....When I decided to move from a great job working for the state to a ministry opportunity for one third of the money, she scoured the ads and worked the phones, finding us the perfect rental which we could afford.  During those lean years, she stuck with me, inviting kids into our home and loving them as much as I did.  While working full-time, she hauled our son to ballgames in a baby carrier slung to her back and pushed him in a stroller to church events.  When our daughter was born,  and I couldn't bear to be in the Dr.s office when my children had to get their shots, she held them because that's what moms do.  

What has she done?..She stuck with me when I left my job and returned to the State.  She quit her job to be with our children full-time, taking them to dentist appointments, play dates, tumbling classes. When our youngest son was born, sickly and needy, and our world was rocked, she changed his colostomy, did the research and ordered the cream to bring relief to his chafed skin.  During the year he had his colostomy, she performed the necessary daily steps to ensure his little body would be prepared for the the surgery to correct his issue, an invasive procedure that I avoided but she did not, because that's just what moms do...

What has she done?...When I lost my job, a victim of budget cuts, she pushed me to go back to school to get my degree.  As I went to classes during the day and worked all evening, she took care of our children and ran the household.  After I went to interview after interview, eventually giving up and becoming depressed, she searched the internet and put my resume on multiple job sites.  I can still remember taking a call at home and hearing the voice ask me if I were still interested in a job at Target.  I repeated the question out loud, confused, when she rushed into the kitchen and told me "YES...YOU ARE!!"..I worked the next seven years at a job which provided for my family and taught me numerous invaluable lessons...A job that I never even knew I had applied for...

What has she done?...She has worked every angle to make ends meet over the past 25 years.  She has attended nearly every single sporting event and school activity which our children were involved in, often the only parent in the stands, yelling loudly for every child, not just her own.  She has created a growing business  while coaching multiple sports to ensure that kids in our community feel valued and loved.  She took a job in the counseling office at the high school and has made sure that there is always chocolate available for any person, staff or student, who needed just a little reminder that they were appreciated.


What has she done?...She has held me accountable when I was wrong, encouraged me when I was broken, forgiven me when I was hurtful and kept our house filled with laughter.  She has been a steadfast friend and loving mother.

What has she done?..While I have aged and become more tired and haggard looking, she has become more beautiful with every passing year.  She is the person I wish my kids to be...And a model for me to point to for children who, sadly. lack such an example within their own home...

Happy anniversary Michelle, I love you

A wife of noble character who can find?
    She is worth far more than rubies. 
 Her husband has full confidence in her
    and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
    all the days of her life.
-Proverbs 31:10-12

Ray Lewis vs Rev. Alden

Rev. Alden, pastor of the Walnut Grove Community church and school

I loved Little House on the Prairie.  Pa Ingalls was so wise, dispensing love and direction from his little wooden home on the prairies of Minnesota.  Little Half-pint and her sister Mary finishing their chores and then running down the dirt road to the church building which doubled as the school during the week.  The snooty Nellie Oleson, resplendent in all her big bowed glory, lying and scheming in every episode.  Doc Baker climbing into his wagon in the dark, setting out to yet another frontier home struck with some sudden malady....  And on Sunday, everyone in the community would gather in the church, sing hymns and then sit and listen as the wise and compassionate Rev. Alden would speak to the troubles brewing amongst his flock and then point them back to the way....But how the times have changed...

In a recent study, 64% of people surveyed said that they looked to athletes as their role models more than pastors and clergy.  Even more startling, pastors were ranked #8 on a list of professions people considered to be trustworthy and ethical.  Pastors were one spot behind college professors and just two above chiropractors....But it could be worse. We could be car salesmen or members of Congress ( dead last ).  During the run up to the Super Bowl played last week, the Ravens Ray Lewis was held up as the model for us believers to praise as his faith was played out in bigger than life terms.  But looking to him as a role model can prove troubling as his failures have been well documented.  Sports writer Frank Deford described it in this fashion,

"He is not, shall we say, quite the exemplary family man, having sired six children with a variety of women. He was indicted for murder in the year 2000, turned state's evidence and pled guilty to obstruction of justice. And, of course, he can be a brutal player—witness the monstrous illegal hit he pummeled the Patriots' Aaron Hernandez with in the AFL championship."

 

You see, Ray Lewis and I apparently have a great deal in common.  Not in the specific details of our failings or struggles nor even our near identical genetic advantages in the areas of strength and quickness ( stop laughing, its possible ).  Nor is it our chiseled physiques and fiery competitive nature (  seriously, stop laughing )... What we have in common has nothing to do with what the world values; strength, success, wealth. Instead, our commonality lies in our weakness.  The same weakness that afflicts athletes and pastors, chiropractors and congressmen, husbands and wives, We are all broken and hurting creations, longing to be loved and encouraged in a world quick to strike and destroy.  All of us struggle, to some degree, with the fallout of our worst decisions.... We all struggle with physical illness, emotional hurts.  The ability to deliver a crushing blow on 3rd and 2 no more insulates a person from pain than does the ability to turn a pretty phrase on a Sunday morning.  But, if Ray Lewis is to be believed, we have even more in common. We have found our answer in Christ, we have found our healing in Grace.

 But perhaps, far from being your role model, Ray Lewis' past makes his present message of faith hard for you to swallow. You long to sit next to the Ingalls family in the Walnut Grove Congregational Church and listen to the wise and loving Rev. Alden.  But perhaps, as Paul Harvey ( the voice over in the cool "farmer" commercial during the Super Bowl)used to say, Perhaps you need to hear the rest of the story...Robert Aldens personal story of pain and hurt,  despair and regret?

In the series Little House on the Prairie, Robert Alden was a prairie farmer who lost his entire family to a terrible disaster.  Alone and bitter, he turned to alcohol to dull the demons that raged within him.  Day after day, he descended further into anger and the bottle, until one day, when he came face to face with a god who loved him, who had a calling for his life.  A Father who lifted him above the circumstances of his life and forgave him his worst moments.  Transformed by Grace and called by God, Robert Alden became a pastor.

You see, more amazing than a persons ability to run fast or jump high is Gods ability to forgive and transform the lives of people who have stumbled and fell. Greater than the ability to speak well is the desire to speak hope into the lives of the hurting.  But most amazing of all, still is and will continue to be, the grace of God, equally available to Super Bowl athletes, pastors, chiropractors, car salesman......even congressmen.

John, A Son of Thunder

He was the last one.

He had been there at the beginning, when all was new and amazing.  He and his brother had quit the family business and followed.  He could still recall the throngs of humanity seemingly everywhere they went, crying out, reaching out.  When he closed his eyes, he could still picture his friends around the fire, laughing as each new day brought forth even more amazing  experiences.  Even now, all these many years later, he would just shake his head in wonder when people would ask him to describe all that he seen....It would take volumes of books to recount all the wonders he had witnessed...But he was the last one...

He could picture all of their faces, including his own brother, reflected in the dancing firelight as Jesus taught, his eyes bright and his voice strong.  In many ways, it seemed as if it were just yesterday that they ate together, traveled together...  In some ways, it seemed an eternity since he had watched his friend die horribly on that hill.  He had kept his word.  He had taken care of Mary, treated her as if she was his own mother.  He remembered vividly the shock, the indescribable emotions he felt three days later..Joy, confusion, excitement, amazement, all and more as his beloved friend stood before them, alive!...He was there at the beginning...

He had been there at the beginning, when all was new and amazing.  He had stood next to Peter as he preached, transfixed as his friend held thousands captivated by the words he spoke...But Peter was dead, crucified upside down.  He remembered the intensity of Paul, the questions he asked, the long discussions deep into the night.  He had witnessed Paul tirelessly spreading the word, leading thousands and thousands into The Way...But Paul was dead, beheaded for his efforts...  His brother, James,  had been the first to die, but then, one by one, they had all been killed.  He was the last one.

He had seen the rise and fall of the politicians, the rulers, Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero...He had watched as each one had rose to power only to fall, despite their claims of divinity.  But he still lived.  He had seen his kinsmen abused and discriminated beneath the weight of an unjust and oppressive government.  The Temple where his family had worshiped as a child, he could still picture its grandeur....It was gone, destroyed, and he knew in his heart his people would never again offer worship in that amazing and beautiful place. He heard daily the accounts of  followers of The Way being persecuted, killed for their faith.  From his home in Ephesus, he offered encouragement to those families mourning terrible loss.

He remembered Jesus telling them that He would return, but he had not returned yet...And so they were asking him to write it all down before he was gone also, to add his voice to those who had written it down before him, friends he remembered fondly, but whose voices lived on only in their writings.

But where so you begin?  How do you describe the indescribable? How do you tell people that the amazing was not the miracles but The Man?!..How can he describe what it was like to watch Him interact with the broken, the hurting?  How can you communicate how He made the self righteous cower beneath His words?..What do you say regarding your friend who you loved with all your heart?..But he was the last..

And so he took up his quill, and thought, and prayed, and the old man began to write with a trembling hand.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was with God in the beginning.  Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it....
 The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.  He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.  He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.  Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth...."




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