After the Republic

 

I read an article “After the Republic” by Angelo Codevilla. I have included a few highlights. It ends with a phrase “threshold of a revolution”. Is it really happening?

 

In today’s America, a network of executive, judicial, bureaucratic, and social kinship channels bypasses the sovereignty of citizens. Our imperial regime, already in force, works on a simple principle: the president and the cronies who populate these channels may do whatever they like so long as the bureaucracy obeys and one third plus one of the Senate protects him from impeachment. If you are on the right side of that network, you can make up the rules as you go along, ignore or violate any number of laws, obfuscate or commit perjury about what you are doing (in the unlikely case they put you under oath), and be certain of your peers’ support. These cronies’ shared social and intellectual identity stems from the uniform education they have received in the universities. Because disdain for ordinary Americans is this ruling class’s chief feature, its members can be equally certain that all will join in celebrating each, and in demonizing their respective opponents.

And, because the ruling class blurs the distinction between public and private business, connection to that class has become the principal way of getting rich in America. Not so long ago, the way to make it here was to start a business that satisfied customers’ needs better than before. Nowadays, more businesses die each year than are started. In this century, all net additions in employment have come from the country’s 1,500 largest corporations. Rent-seeking through influence on regulations is the path to wealth. In the professions, competitive exams were the key to entry and advancement not so long ago. Now, you have to make yourself acceptable to your superiors. More important, judicial decisions and administrative practice have divided Americans into “protected classes”—possessed of special privileges and immunities—and everybody else. Equality before the law and equality of opportunity are memories. Co-option is the path to power. Ever wonder why the quality of our leaders has been declining with each successive generation?

Moreover, since the Kennedy reform of 1965, and with greater speed since 2009, the ruling class’s immigration policy has changed the regime by introducing some 60 million people—roughly a fifth of our population—from countries and traditions different from, if not hostile, to ours. Whereas earlier immigrants earned their way to prosperity, a disproportionate percentage of post-1965 arrivals have been encouraged to become dependents of the state. Equally important, the ruling class chose to reverse America’s historic practice of assimilating immigrants, emphasizing instead what divides them from other Americans. Whereas Lincoln spoke of binding immigrants by “the electric cord” of the founders’ principles, our ruling class treats these principles as hypocrisy. All this without votes or law; just power.

Foul is Fair and Fair is Foul

In short, precisely as the classics defined regime change, people and practices that had been at society’s margins have been brought to its center, while people and ideas that had been central have been marginalized.

Fifty years ago, prayer in the schools was near universal, but no one was punished for not praying. Nowadays, countless people are arrested or fired for praying on school property. West Point’s commanding general reprimanded the football coach for his team’s thanksgiving prayer. Fifty years ago, bringing sexually explicit stuff into schools was treated as a crime, as was “procuring abortion.” Nowadays, schools contract with Planned Parenthood to teach sex, and will not tell parents when they take girls to PP facilities for abortions. Back then, many schools worked with the National Rifle Association to teach gun handling and marksmanship. Now students are arrested and expelled merely for pointing their finger and saying “bang.” In those benighted times, boys who ventured into the girls’ bathroom were expelled as perverts. Now, girls are suspended for objecting to boys coming into the girls’ room under pretense of transgenderism. The mainstreaming of pornography, the invention of abortion as the most inalienable of human rights and, most recently, the designation of opposition to homosexual marriage as a culpable psychosis—none of which is dictated by law enacted by elected officials—is enforced as if it had been. No surprise that America has experienced a drastic drop in the formation of families, with the rise of rates of out-of-wedlock births among whites equal to the rates among blacks that was recognized as disastrous a half-century ago, the near-disappearance of two-parent families among blacks, and the social dislocations attendant to all that.

If trying to persuade irredeemable socio-political inferiors is no more appropriate than arguing with animals, why not just write them off by sticking dismissive names on them? Doing so is less challenging, and makes you feel superior. Why wrestle with the statistical questions implicit in Darwin when you can just dismiss Christians as Bible-thumpers? Why bother arguing for Progressivism’s superiority when you can construct “scientific” studies like Theodor Adorno’s, proving that your opponents suffer from degrees of “fascism” and other pathologies? This is a well-trod path. Why, to take an older example, should General Omar Bradley have bothered trying to refute Douglas MacArthur’s statement that in war there is no substitute for victory when calling MacArthur and his supporters “primitives” did the trick? Why wrestle with our climate’s complexities when you can make up your own “models,” being sure that your class will treat them as truth?

What priorities will the ruling class’s notion of scientific truth dictate to the next Democratic administration? Because rejecting that true and false, right and wrong are objectively ascertainable is part of this class’s DNA, no corpus of fact or canon of reason restrains it or defines its end-point. Its definition of “science” is neither more nor less than what “scientists say” at any given time. In practice, that means “Science R-Us,” now and always, exclusively.

Who, a generation ago, could have guessed that careers and social standing could be ruined by stating the fact that the paramount influence on the earth’s climate is the sun, that its output of energy varies and with it the climate? Who, a decade ago, could have predicted that stating that marriage is the union of a man and a woman would be treated as a culpable sociopathy, or just yesterday that refusing to let certifiably biological men into women’s bathrooms would disqualify you from mainstream society? Or that saying that the lives of white people “matter” as much as those of blacks is evidence of racism? These strictures came about quite simply because some sectors of the ruling class felt like inflicting them on the rest of America. Insulting presumed inferiors proved to be even more important to the ruling class than the inflictions’ substance.

How far will our rulers go? Because their network is mutually supporting, they will go as far as they want. Already, there is pressure from ruling class constituencies, as well as academic arguments, for morphing the concept of “hate crime” into the criminalization of “hate speech”—which means whatever these loving folks hate. Of course this is contrary to the First Amendment, and a wholesale negation of freedom. But it is no more so than the negation of freedom of association that is already eclipsing religious freedom in the name anti-discrimination. It is difficult to imagine a Democratic president, Congress, and Supreme Court standing in the way.

In fact, the United States of America was great because of a whole bunch of things that now are gone. Yes, the ruling class led the way in personal corruption, cheating on tests, lowering of professional standards, abandoning churches and synagogues for the Playboy Philosophy and lifestyle, disregarding law, basing economic life on gaming the administrative state, basing politics on conflicting identities, and much more. But much of the rest of the country followed. What would it take to make America great again—or indeed to make any of the changes that Trump’s voters demand? Replacing the current ruling class would be only the beginning.

Because it is difficult to imagine a Trump presidency even thinking about something so monumental as replacing an entire ruling elite, much less leading his constituency to accomplishing it, electing Trump is unlikely to result in a forceful turn away from the country’s current direction. Continuing pretty much on the current trajectory under the same class will further fuel revolutionary sentiments in the land all by itself. Inevitable disappointment with Trump is sure to add to them.

We have stepped over the threshold of a revolution. It is difficult to imagine how we might step back, and futile to speculate where it will end. Our ruling class’s malfeasance, combined with insult, brought it about. Donald Trump did not cause it and is by no means its ultimate manifestation. Regardless of who wins in 2016, this revolution’s sentiments will grow in volume and intensity, and are sure to empower politicians likely to make Americans nostalgic for Donald Trump’s moderation.

 

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This New World

I see the cross-dressing men in high school. They seem to attract no attention that I can see. The high school has a designated bathroom for people who have switched their identity by choice. I can tell young people are trained to not pay any attention to them one way or another. Of course, all hell would fall on them if they  were to tease or confront in any way. That seems to be the makeup of this generation; I kind of live and let live.

I caught this article by Kathryn Hinderaker (possibly the daughter of a Powerlineblog guy) entitled “Why Millennials Hate Trump”. Here are some quotes:

 

College is all about political correctness. With PGPs and safe spaces abounding, students in college today are trained to be careful. From day one, every teacher includes a “Statement of Inclusion” on his or her syllabus. Students include their gender pronouns in the signature of their emails. Say you’re not a feminist and you immediately become a misogynist. The list goes on. It has been ingrained in the mind of every recent college student to use extreme caution when speaking, as to not offend someone. Donald Trump is quite clearly the opposite of this. His unfiltered railing and ranting is like nails on a chalkboard to our college-trained ears.

Everyone must have a cause. College students are expected to campaign for and adamantly help and protect those we decide to be “disadvantaged.” And to show how charitable and selfless we are, we slap a sticker on our laptop or pin a button to our backpack. But even these small, small gestures of recognition of a cause instantly boost our egos. We tell others we’re involved with charities because we’re changing lives, but we all secretly know it’s just because it will look good on our grad school application. Nevertheless, we still see ourselves as social justice warriors; heroes to the disadvantaged everywhere. Trump, with his focus on American values and the American economy, is a disgrace to our socially aware selves. Our laptop stickers cringe when we hear “lower taxes” and the buttons on our backpacks try to escape at the sound of anything vaguely capitalistic. Because anything that benefits America, we have been taught, causes terror and hardship for the rest of the world.

“Make America Great Again” is irrelevant to college students because we can’t believe that America has been or ever will be anything but selfish and greedy. I’m reading a book for class right now on how capitalism is causing climate change. Last year, we discussed how the Constitution set us up for failure. I’ve even heard students chastise one another for claiming that America is the greatest country in the world. Because what’s focused on in the college classroom is not the insanely cool experiment that is America, but the horrific greed of the western world. Claiming America is superior to any other country will immediately mark you as naive, and probably a racist, too.

I say all this tongue-in-cheek, of course. I love my school to death. But there is no doubt that my classes and professors consistently push a liberal agenda in their teaching. So even if students do think they align more with conservative values, they would never be able to vote for Trump. He’s the butt of teacher’s jokes and the epitome of everything we’ve been taught is wrong with the world.

After reading this I was a little amazed. I have always thought the PC thing was a little far fetched but am only now beginning to realize how indoctrinated the younger people are.

 

So here is the redeeming story. Meet His Majesty. Here are some quotes; enjoy:

“A student has taken advantage of the opportunity afforded by University of Michigan’s new pronoun policy, which allows students to list their chosen pronouns on the official bios that are sent out to their teachers.

The student, Grant Stroble, has listed his pronoun as “His Majesty.”

He is stunning and brave. Applaud his courage. Weep openly, if you must.”

Stroble—a conservative student and member of Young Americans for Freedom’s Board of Governors—told The College Fix that he has no problem with students asking to be identified in the manner that makes them most comfortable. But he found the university’s new policy to be absurd:

In an interview with The College Fix, Strobl said that “I have no problem with students asking to be identified a certain way, almost like someone named Richard who would like to be called Dick. It is respectful to make a reasonable effort to refer to students in the way that they prefer.”

However, he added that he does have a problem when the university institutionalizes the use of pronouns that are completely arbitrary and may possibly sanction people for referring to someone different than their preference.

Strobl continued, “So, I henceforth shall be referred to as: His Majesty, Grant Strobl. I encourage all U-M students to go onto Wolverine Access, and insert the identity of their dreams.”

If this isn’t the feel-good story of the year, I don’t know what is.”

And I agree.

 

 

 

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Crick’s Full Circle

I use a photo of Francis Crick in my science slide show. He discovered DNA along with Watson in the 1950’s. He realized immediately the impossibility of DNA happening through some kind of Darwinian magic (mutation and natural selection). So I ask: “How does he think DNA developed?” I get several guesses; but usually someone comes out with the right answer: “Aliens”. Yes, that is what he believes. It is called panspermia, kind of like sexual seed from aliens being spewed out through the universe and happening to fall upon planet earth.

I came across this Mark Steyn remembrance of Crick following his death. Here are some quotes:

Francis Crick is dead and gone. He has certainly not “passed on” – and, if he has, he’ll be extremely annoyed about it. As a 12-year old English schoolboy, he decided he was an atheist, and for much of the rest of his life worked hard to disprove the existence of the soul.

Afterwards, already 30 and at a loose end, he mulled over what he wanted to do and decided his main interests were the “big picture” questions, the ones arising from his rejection of God, the ones that seemed beyond the power of science. Crick reckoned that the “mystery of life” could be easily understood if you just cleared away all the mysticism we’ve chosen to surround it with.

That’s the difference between Darwin and Crick. Evolution, whatever offence it gives, by definition emphasizes how far man has come from his tree-swinging forebears. DNA, by contrast, seems reductive. Man and chimp share 98.5 per cent of their genetic code, which would be no surprise to Darwin. But we also share 75 per cent of our genetic make-up with the pumpkin. The pumpkin is just a big ridged orange lump lying on the ground all day, like a fat retiree on the beach in Florida. But other than that he has no discernible human characteristics until your kid carves them into him.

The university at which he practiced his science is filled with ancient college chapels, whose presence so irked Crick that, when the new Churchill College invited him to become a Fellow, he agreed to do so only on condition that no chapel was built on the grounds. In 1963, when a benefactor offered to fund a chapel and Crick’s fellow Fellows voted to accept the money, he refused to accept the argument that many at the college would appreciate a place of worship and that those who didn’t were not obliged to enter it. He offered to fund a brothel on the same basis, and, when that was rejected, he resigned.

His militant atheism was good-humored but fierce, and it drove him away from molecular biology. As the key to the mystery of life, DNA seems a small answer to the big picture, so Crick pushed on, advancing the theory of “Directed Panspermia”, which is not a Clinton DNA joke but his and his colleague Leslie Orgel’s explanation for how life began.

“We do not know… uncertain… not too far out… we do not know for certain… we suspect… chances are…” And thus the Nobel prize winner embraces the theory that space aliens sent rocketships to seed the earth. The man of science who confidently dismissed God at Mill Hill School half a century earlier appears not to have noticed that he’d merely substituted for his culturally inherited monotheism a weary variant on Greco-Roman-Norse pantheism – the gods in the skies who fertilize the earth and then retreat to the heavens beyond our reach.

He didn’t see it that way, of course. His last major work, The Astonishing Hypothesis, was a full-scale assault on human feeling. “The Astonishing Hypothesis,” trumpeted Crick, “is that ‘You,’ your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules. As Lewis Carroll’s Alice might have phrased it: ‘You’re nothing but a pack of neurons.'”

Perhaps the combination of human quirks and sparks that drove him to chase his double-helix are merely a chemical formula no different in principle from that which determines variations in the pumpkin patch. But, even if Francis Crick is 75 per cent the same as a pumpkin, the degree of difference between him and even the savviest Hubbard squash suggests that as a unit of measurement it doesn’t quite suffice.

It is too late to retreat now. Francis Crick set us on the path to a biotechnological era that may yet be only an intermediate stage to a post-human future. But, just as a joke that’s explained is no longer funny, so in his final astonishing hypothesis Dr Crick eventually arrived at the logical end: you can only unmask the mystery of humanity by denying our humanity.

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A Gracious Woman

Mrs. Mitchell (Nelda) passed away last week. The funeral will be tomorrow in Prescott. Some passing thoughts about the woman who graciously signed us in when we would come to conference. Most of my knowledge of her centered around conference and Pastor Mitchell’s reference to the woman he loved. Each conference at its end would have Mrs. Mitchell go up to the platform to stand with her husband to receive prayer from our leadership and the conference attendees. There was always something special about the moment of her walking to the platform.

Barbara, from our Ballard church, had let me know that she wanted to go on the Israel trip with the Mitchell’s. I had tried to include some thoughts in my sermons about idols and figures and such, but nothing I said could take the big wooden cross from around Barbara’s neck. Off she went, cross and all. On her return she reported to all that she spent most of her time with Sister Mitchell. This spoke volumes about what kind of woman Nelda Mitchell was.

Our family, minus my two oldest girls, would return to Prescott after our seven years in Zambia. We got to be around the Prescott church and Pastor and Sister Mitchell. Sister Mitchell would attend Joan’s get together at the house. I once told her after I gave her a proper “good morning” that I felt like Eddie Haskell from “Leave it to Beaver” when I talked to her. She laughed. She gave me what I consider the supreme compliment. We were talking and I mentioned that we would be heading down to Wickenburg for the evening service. She responded: “I always forget you are from Wickenburg”.

Audra had a tougher time in Prescott than Joan or I. Unbeknown to us, her body was not behaving and this would end up in a 21-day intensive care stay 6 months after our arrival. The two people that took time to minister to her were Adam Porter and Sister Mitchell. Sister Mitchell and Audra seemed to actually have a friendship. Audra will be representing our family at the funeral.

We got a little glimpse into the Mitchell’s life when they came down to Wickenburg for Pastor Robinson’s 25th anniversary as the Wickenburg pastor. The little church they pastored many years before starting our fellowship was just down the street. Pastor Mitchell referred to the little church, the tree that still stands in which his kids would play and their memories of life in the town of Wickenburg. It turns out that they came up to Wickenburg to get married. The perfect words for the occasion.

My glimpse into their lives can in no way compare to the memories and thoughts of her family members. Yet, it is nice to be able to include a good report of a wonderful woman that touched so many lives like ours in so many different ways. Our condolences to the Mitchell family.

Proverbs 11:16 says “a gracious woman retains honor”. Mrs. Mitchell didn’t have to be gracious; she was gracious.

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Seattle Trip

We arrived in Seattle last Tuesday night about 11:00 (August 2). This was the fulfillment of a promise made on our previous trip to Oregon in which we took one day out of the schedule and headed up to Seattle. I had promised to come back in August for a longer visit. The airport was packed and Chris Pecelunas asked us to meet him just outside the airport. So after a short walk, in which Joan gained Pokémon points, we met up with Chris and we all fit into his small Fiat (his larger one was not clean enough). Our quietly stubborn Chris has grown into a mountain of a man. He manages a warehouse in which he works very closely with his boss who enjoys letting Chris deal with the human problems of the warehouse crew. Chris took our thanks with a reminder of all of the great memories he had of being part of church and doing the cool things that we all did together.

Chris took us over to his mother Jane’s house; where Nikki (Unique) and David and Jane welcomed us. Chris left and that would be all the time we had with him as life’s schedules demanded his time. I met a new friend; Manny. Jane is slowly going blind and has been given a dog that is supposed to be for the blind but has not really been trained. We stop at the intersection, he even looks, but he doesn’t know to start the process of crossing the street. I would be walking Manny each morning and night for the next 4 days while we stayed with Jane. Joan and I would wake up early each morning (the good kind of jet lag) and take Manny for his walk as we finished up at a Safeway Starbucks for coffee.

Wednesday, I would be picked up by Enterprise. A week’s rental at the airport was $600; offsite $300. We do the same thing every time we fly into Phoenix. The only inconvenience in this case would be turning the car in before they closed at 5:00 and then having them take me to the metro station where I would take the train to the airport area.

Our agenda for Wednesday was lunch with Lorraine and then service that night in West Seattle. Traffic has definitely become more of an issue in crossing town these days. 17 years ago we knew the windows to try and make trips across town, those windows have shrunk considerably. It all started with the genius planner who took the 4 lanes of Highway 5 coming into Seattle and reduced them to 3 and just at the center of the city reduced them to 2. He got a bonus from what I understand because it was all designed to get us onto busses.

Lorraine chose to have lunch at the Original Pancake House. Was this connected to the Original Pancake house that Joe took us to in San Diego? Yes, and it was just as delicious for lunch as it was for breakfast. We had the added bonus of Lorraine bringing pictures to share with us all. It was Jane and Unique and Joan and I and Lorraine. I think I mentioned that Lorraine was 80 in my blog entry about the Oregon trip. Actually she is 86 and still looks like she looked 17 years ago as well as the 12 years before that. She seems to never age. She enjoys church, she testifies at the family reunions (much to their dismay) and she gives rides to the people she lives with who are unable to get around for shopping and appointments. What I noticed also was the entire time she didn’t complain about health issues once except for giving us pictures of her operation on her hands; only because she knew my hands were curling up also (something to do with Eastern European heritage). She goes to the Philadelphia church and was familiar with a prophecy writer I am currently enjoying: Bill Salus and “The Now Prophecies”. We got all of her family news with special mention of her son Denny, whom we had many cool moments with. We closed down the restaurant as they let us hang out past 2. I had hoped to rendezvous with Dorothy Hargis who was on a cross country trip with her daughter, granddaughter and grandson. She was scheduled to be in Seattle that very afternoon but they were running behind schedule and I wasn’t able to get Lorraine and Dorothy together. Both of them are faithful letter writers.

Jane makes soaps, so the next stop was across the highway from Ballard to the University district for a visit to Zenith Supplies. Joan and Jane (mostly Jane) would be making soaps during our visit and it looks like we came home with about ten different soaps including one that Jane said was especially for me. I walked in, took in the smells, looked at their books and then waited outside walking up and down the block. I was pleased to see an Olympia Pizza. In our opinion the 3 best pizza places in Seattle were Olympia Pizza in Wallingford and University district, Stacie’s in Ballard and Pegasus in West Seattle. We then flowed with the traffic south to Jane’s and got ready for church that night.

Jane has become a bit of a celebrity in the neighborhood she lives in. She attends church right across the street from her house. That first morning Joan and I were given the history of the building from the caretaker. The church shares the property with a community center. Jane cheerfully asks people if they know Jesus and when they say “yes” she says “I thought so” with an enthusiasm that is tough to not admire. Her community watched her faith tested when Unique was attacked while walking Manny and she lost the dog along with her things. Would Jane get her dog back? Her faith was put on trial and everyone apparently had an opinion. Days turned to weeks and then a local TV station wanted to interview and broadcast a story about the missing “guide” dog. Jane left church one night to be welcomed by a mobile TV crew surrounded by people. She gave her interview with a special plea for the return of her dog.

Again, as she was heading home after church two men were arguing over whether or not she was going to get her dog back. One man saying that God was going to return her dog; the other man denying it. David then shouts out to her as she is talking with the men “They found Manny!” The one man who was denying was now telling the other man that God found Manny for Jane. On one of my walks with Manny a man would stop me on the street and ask me if I was looking for Jane the owner of the dog I had. Just kind of cool.

These walks through the neighborhood of South Seattle are refreshing. Seattle parks are set up in such a way that you can actually go from park to park staying in the green. I am saying this only from memory. I might try and link to something when I transfer this to WordPress. We were able to walk Manny to one park, and then through green to another, then to Safeway for coffee and then back by Rainier Beach High School and then through the neighborhood back to Jane’s. Joan would be moving from level to level while we enjoyed the floral beauty of Seattle in the summer, the Blue Angels practicing and all of the apples, plums and blackberries we could eat along the way.

It worked out that Jane, who is part of her church’s choir, would be able to join us in West Seattle for church with Tom Drout. Instead of choir practice they would be preparing for a rap concert with rappers coming up from California. We went over and met her pastor and his wife. Harold and Annisfay Franklin are the pastoring couple of the church. They came across as a great couple who cared about Jane and her walk with Christ. As a note to Warren Bailey, Harold is a graduate of University of Washington and a player on the football team.

A week and a half later I will try and pick up the threads of our Seattle trip as even now the pleasantness of the stay there begins to fade with the daily hustle bustle of life, which now includes substituting. We made our way over to the West Seattle church pastored by Tom and Cindy Drout. It is the memory of the faces, now a bit older, that brings a smile to my face. I mistakenly called Gene’s nephew Gene, and yes he could have been a younger version of Gene. Jane would have a great time talking with Elisabeth, our Ballard church member, as well as talking with the other ladies of church who all remembered her from those past years. Wonderful song service and nice presence of God. Preached an easy sermon, that worked as an expression of my joy in being there. Pastor Drout would let me know that Jason Coleman was also part of church, a Ballard guy who lived in our basement for a bit, who was now a truck owner and out of town at this moment.

Let me insert a story here about our Ballard days. We let Toby Bleeker stay at our house in the basement for a bit. Well one thing led to another and we had Toby, Malachi, Jason, Dave and a guy who ate his gold fish staying in the basement also. I came home from work one day and the girls were all excited and Laura Michelle let me know that they were going swimming at a hotel. I began to realize that Joan needed a break from our boarders. She had made hotel reservations for the weekend, and yes I could come along, but the time to clear out the basement had come. Toby had already moved on being the working man he was. Joan always appreciated Jason’s willingness to get some things done around the house while they lounged around.

Pastor Drout would have us over in the morning for a trip up into the mountains for a bike ride so Jane, Joan and I headed back to South Seattle and found a Mexican restaurant to eat at just before closing time at 10:00. This little section along Rainer had become a night life hot spot. Lots of action. Once again just enjoying the company in the city of Seattle.

The next day Joan and I would join the Drout’s for a trip to Rattlesnake Lake and a bike ride up the old railway line making its way through the Cascades. It would be seven miles up and seven miles back, a very easy ride for the Drout’s and manageable for Joan and I. Tom would have the extra weight of a trailer carrying their dog. Some biking kids in front of us would even come across a bear. As the song goes: “the greenest green” and the “bluest blue” are in Seattle. Beauty plus refreshing Huckleberries, ripe and plentiful. Huckleberries are tough to grow commercially because it can take up to 15 years for the bush to become fruitful. Kind of like church sometimes. We had a Vietnamese lunch with the Drout’s before heading back to Jane’s.

That evening we would head down to Tacoma and meet with Jane’s daughter Sabrina and her family. She warned us that the freeway was a parking lot so we didn’t leave until 7 but still found ourselves sitting in traffic just before entering Tacoma. Sabrina is now a sought after hair stylist giving $100 haircuts to Seattle’s tech elites. Her husband is an executive with Costco, yet they still had to go to Tacoma to find a good house to buy. Commutes became a common ground for talk as the husband (sorry cannot recall his name) (but he described the funeral of his LA grandfather who was a preacher and how surprised he was at all the lives he had impact on) talked of his 2-hour commute to work at the Costco headquarters in Issaquah. They have a beautiful house for a beautiful couple and their beautiful children. Jane had shared with us that the middle daughter had adopted Jane’s Christianity and thus the voice of truth has a place in their lives. Thanks!

That Friday I was going to run around with David while Jane and Joan concentrated on soaps and blackberry jams. David wasn’t up yet after I walked Manny so I took off to check out my old place of employment: Biblesoft. They had moved to a smaller set of offices, I imagine doing business in the age of free apps is more difficult than my days there when they were called programs not apps and you actually paid for them. I always like to point out one of the differences that make America stand out from the rest of the world when I talk about Biblesoft. We were the only nation that had a retail industry for software in the early days. The point being that as it was easy to get any software on the cheap without paying the retail price it was amazing that Americans as a group would do what is right even though they didn’t have to. I think times have changed since then, in many different ways.

At Biblesoft I met with Kathy and David Hielman’s wife, the only people still there from my days at Biblesoft. A single programmer was playing games during a break and it seemed very quiet. As far as I can tell companies like Biblesoft and Logos mainly are marketing to their customer bases new biblical works to work with their respective engines. It would be fun to sit in on the thinking that would go with trying to be more relevant again. They let me know that Jim and Leanna, the Biblesoft founders still come in once in a while and encouraged me to drop by and visit them. So I did.

This would be my third visit with Jim Gilbertson since leaving Biblesoft and coming back from Zambia. He has sold the business now and looks happy and content in his home overlooking the Sound. It has always been a pleasure to visit with him. He could be difficult to work with as I am sure the many managers could confirm. I had a joke that you needed to speak Jimbonics in order to truly communicate with him. That is all behind us now, but life was always adventurous during my ten years at Biblesoft. We talked of life, church, one minute bible studies and our first sales on credit. We started doing business at Biblesoft on a cash COD basis. As members of CBA (Christian Booksellers Association) we needed to switch to credit terms after the stores began to reorder the product. Jim was starting out with his retirement funds on the line and wasn’t sure about floating product out there on credit terms; yet that is how we had to do business if we were to continue on. Our sales manager could not bring himself to explain all of this to Jim so we just continued doing credit business on the sly. One day Jim burst into the sales office demanding to know who was doing credit business. When he realized that we all were and heard our explanations of how important it was, he seemed satisfied and that was the last we heard of it.

Biblesoft came together with a special group of people at a time when those parts of the whole could never exist again as the technology and way of doing business has moved on. It was quite the privilege to be a part of that exciting time. I was landscaping and pastoring at the time; but had been encouraged to seek higher pay at a conference. I went home and saw an ad for Biblesoft. Pastor Robinson was preaching for me and we talked about it. I had already had one interview with them. We decided it would be foolish to give up my good job for a job that would only pay commission. Plus, you would have to deal with the stigma of sales.

That night Warren Bailey would visit our church service. He sat through the service, even spoke in tongues with us as we praised God. Afterwards, he spent a lot of time talking with Pastor Robinson more than me. At dinner that night Pastor Robinson was impressed enough with Warren to recommend giving it a try if I wanted to. When I got called for a second interview I was hired.

A few last notes about my time with Jim Gilbertson at Biblesoft. I was always given time off for church events and lots of latitude with my schedule and my managers. Managers would come and go and several times I stood in during the in between times. Our most successful marketing strategy was to place displays in Christian book stores with a touch screen to show off what PC Study Bible could do. This had us making a film, creating PowerPoint presentations and looking for higher levels of creativity. I loved every minute of it. When it all came together the different parts of the display shipped directly to the stores from the different sources. The stores then put it together. Something was wrong. I had mis-measured by about ¾ of an inch the space needed for the visuals (didn’t take thought of the wiring). I had to tell Jim. The stores were making it work, but the workarounds were second choice. I was ready for Jim to explode; but instead he calmly thanked me for letting him know and then took charge as the executive he was and began to seek a solution. We would end up shipping two strips of wood, colored to match the display, of an inch in depth with two screw holes and two screws to give the display the space it needed. This was the suggestion of one of the store owners. Everyone was happy.

There also was the time I thought I was being unjustly accused of some things and decided that I wasn’t going to submit myself to what seemed like a kangaroo court of my managers. I left the meeting being chased down to my car by Jim who demanded that I return to the meeting. Thank God, I listened. I am not sure what life would have been like if I went home to Joan and told her I quit this great paying job because my ego was being jostled. It all worked out; but then there was the time I sang a basketball Jones song at our Christmas party. My tongue in cheek references had been misunderstood and the next Monday I was told by my manager that he wasn’t sure I still had a job. We had started playing basketball at lunch and I was talking of playing basketball as though I was backsliding and then had the other backsliders (basketball players) join me as Cheech and Chong sung their song. Well one guy had explained to Jim that it was about Jonesing for drugs and another thought that I was blaming Jim for my backsliding and I had to explain to Jim, who was insisting that he was not responsible for my backsliding, that it was all a parody, although not well thought out.

I could go on and on and someday will. For now, let me leave you with a “Jim” quote that has always stayed with me. The final decision to hire me would ultimately be made by Jim. Pastoring and working is always second choice. Even now I am subbing in Carbondale high school in between covering for teacher’s meetings with the kids streaming by going to their classes. Working as a landscaper gave me lots of opportunities to think about sermons and life while I worked. An office job is different in that my mind had to engage with the tasks at hand. One was good for sermonizing in my mind as I did hard work that got me tired; and the other was good because I wasn’t exhausted at the end of the day. Jim was understanding this as he was making his decision. He made this statement to me at that time: “A man can only do one thing to the best of his ability.”

I am part of a fellowship with hundreds of pastors who want nothing more out of life than to pastor a church that could pay them a salary so that they did not have to work so as to be able to totally give themselves to the call of God. Yet, most of us work and work we do as we wait. What are we waiting for? Once again another time. It was leaving Biblesoft and going to Zambia that gave me my first opportunity to be a pastor who did not have to work a job and it was wonderful. No splitting my time and energy. Just one task to focus on. The way Jim said it should be.

I returned to Jane’s and picked up David and Unique and we headed off to Ballard. It was a chance to hang with them for the rest of the day. My agenda was to have lunch at “Gorditos” on 85th St. close to our old home and cruise around for a while and get some ice cream somewhere. “Gorditos” is one of those success stories we got to watch happen. I would take pastors and outreach teams to eat there. It was started by the parents of a student who went to school with our girls at Greenwood Elementary. The first location was a small space on 85th with a few tables. The challenge in those early days was to order the burrito hot; and was it hot. The husband didn’t speak much English but always greeted us and the wife was very personable. They built a loyal customer base and moved to a bigger location and the place seemed to explode with jubilant customers singing the praises of their dishes. She (can’t remember her name, I think his was Thomas) would be driving around town now in a great big hummer. It was a pleasure to see her driving down the street.

I found it; but something wasn’t right. My first thought was another spoiled fairy tale of life. It looked like work was going on; maybe new owners, I went inside to investigate. I found a workman and began to talk to him about the restaurant. He let me know there had been an explosion next door that had impacted the safety of the building the restaurant was in. Opening day would be the day after we were leaving; so I would miss something I had been waiting for these many years. I shared my memories of the restaurant with the young man and mentioned that my girls went to school with the owner’s son. He asked me what their names were; and after I answered said he was the young man. Shannon Hall had taken over the restaurant some years previous. His parents have retired to Hawaii. He mentioned that they got bored and now have opened a restaurant there, also. I texted the girls about my meeting up with Shannon. Good memories all around.

We settled for some excellent Mexican at the crossroads of 3rd Ave and 85th st. I would buy lunch and Unique would buy her own Mexican beer. We would talk about the changes in life that took us down our different paths. David Pecelunas was this electronic, computer kid who had some things going for him. He brought up his early days of winning spelling bees and getting awards in school. What happened? He laid out a much more gangster life than I was aware of. I knew the language changed from our shared language to gangster slang. Church stopped. School became a problem. Drugs. I knew and watched and prayed but life took him down that path. We started talking about what happened to start him down that path. He talked of his friend who would end up in prison for murder. Unique would add details as we went along. This was all good.

We visited the old house, always a pleasant experience. David wanted to visit West Seattle and I reminded them that ice cream was still on the agenda. Unique asked me what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. I like all ice cream; but she wanted a specific one. Thinking, I selected the ice cream flavor I have only had a few times: licorice. She was delighted because she knew of an ice cream place in West Seattle that had licorice ice cream. So off we went on a slow cruise from Greenwood/Ballard to West Seattle. Once again, Seattle is beautiful. So we stroll the Alki beach with our ice creams in hand (yes, they had licorice) watching the people. We wondered what was going on with one group. Unique had some good insights. We would stop by some of the houses they had lived in and then try and beat traffic dismissing after the Blue Angel practice run. Great to have some time with them both.

Easy Friday night at home. I would share my science presentation with David. I know he is into beats and I was hoping he would want to put some beats to the slide show. He settled to give me a CD with a bunch of his beats. Joan and Jane were still working on jams and soaps. They squeezed in a chicken dinner, I walked the dog and got to bed early for our new day in Everett the next day.

Why Everett? That is where Doug and Karen Begg go to church. Our faithful couple, along with Barbara would end up in the Everett church with Pastor Tony Uriarte and his wife April. Barbara has passed away with Tony doing her funeral. Doug is always quick to remind me that their song leader, Oswald is fruit from our old church. Yes, Doug sees something cool when it came together. I am in Zambia, the church is coming to an end, and with its last gasp it welcomes Oswald, the Zambian from Lusaka, into the church. He is now married and I want to assume that God has a calling to ministry on his life; et least, I know Doug thinks that.

Pastor Uriarte would allow me to have the perfect ministering visit with his church. We did a one-minute bible study outreach on Saturday. I did my science slide show for Sunday school and then preached his Sunday morning service. We showed up Saturday morning a little early and of course Doug was there. I have tried several different presentation ideas to introduce a church to doing a one minute bible study outreach. The one that flows the best is a simple recap of the different outreaches I have been involved in. When I talk about the Ballard parade and the Roman soldier beating the made up Christ making front page Seattle Times; it was a little more real as I showed everyone the picture of Doug, the Roman soldier, beating Toby, the suffering Christ from the Seattle Times. It was even better to describe the new converts calling into the talk radio station 28 years ago when the topic was our parade float knowing that Doug was one of those new converts calling in for Seattle to hear.

We had a great outreach with about 20 of us. I went with Pastor Tony to a local park that was teeming with people. I noticed plenty of Pokémon players. We all did several studies with good conversations and witnesses. Two people would pray a prayer of salvation as on the outreach. We wrapped it up with testimonies and then we headed to Mexican for some lunch. Karen with one of the grandkids would join us. We would spend the night with Karen and Doug.

At their house we touched base with Ronnie, Doug’s brother and heard the latest about Al and the gang. We also met a sister from the Isle of Man that we had never met before. She asked if we would pray for her to marry an American, who was saved. We went over to Stephie’s (Doug and Karen’s daughter) for dinner. She made a nice steak and potato dinner. Her kids, with the oldest being the spitting image as her when she was that age, were a lot of fun. We went on a walk after dinner with their dog and Steph and the kids. Why? Pokémon, of course. Joan has been moving from level to level and the kids were fascinated with the process. We ended up coming into the same park we outreached in via a back entrance. Doug and Karen would give us a walking tour of downtown Snohomish that evening. In the morning Doug prepared his famous camping breakfast for us before church. It was then off to church and not nearly enough time.

We had a good time in church, it always fun to work with the technicians about setting up for the slide show. Everything went smoothly and we had church in a packed house. Pastor Tony’s pastor is Pastor Bob Overson who was my pastor for two years before he went on a supernatural journey as an evangelist. One of his stops would be Sparta where he carried on the “Sparta Fire” for 6 weeks. I would hope he can be proud of me as one of his disciples and he certainly can be proud of Pastor Tony. We would share our “goodbyes” with the Beggs as they were off to Ron Begg’s son’s wedding and we went and had Indian food with the Uriarte family.

I have always enjoyed pastor’s families. Obviously, I see so much of Joan and I and our children in them; but they always impress me beyond the politeness and correctness that they exhibit. They are loved and you can tell it. There is a TED talk where Johanne Han talks about addictions and concludes that all they need is some connections to someone who will love and care about them. That is what I felt as we sat with them at lunch. They are loved! Joan would do more talking with the girls and I would do more with Tony and his son; but we came away blessed.

It was then up to Chilliwack, Canada to preach the evening service for Pastor Dave Marks and his family. Originally I was going to preach twice in Everett and just visit Dave and Sherri on Monday but they insisted I preach and I am more than willing. I left Wickenburg some 28 years ago to come to Seattle. My first Sunday in the Northwest would have me preaching for Pastor Larry Beauregard in Vancouver and Pastor Marks in Chilliwack. We have been friends ever since then.

The drive to Chilliwack is full of memories. We once made the trip in a snow bound hurry just to share with the Mark’s our Russian adventure. Our Russian adventure came at a spiritual price that was paid by the Mark’s and we know it and we always want to be thankful for their willingness to pay that price. There are several ways you can make it there and several places to cross the border. It is all different now, with the need of passports and such so we took the easiest route for me to remember, missing our ice cream stop. We made our way to the newly painted church and were early enough to taste some apples and plums hanging over onto the church property. I would pray with Dave while Sherri “mischievously” would take Joan to Starbucks.

Pastor Marks took a fall while running that did neurological damage. He has managed to preach every service since the fall but he has had to reteach his body to do almost everything. At conference in July he was running again, although carefully. Sherri had some heart issues this spring so there is some delicateness to the get together. That’s why it was so nice to see that Sherri still had that “mischievous” shine in her eyes. You might ask what I am talking about. Sherri taught Joan how to geo cache. Now Joan is kind of geo caching with Pokémon. We have shared this knowledge with everyone on the trip; but I told Joan under no circumstances was she to say anything about it here. Probably within minutes Sherri had enticed this information out of Joan and it would become a topic of conversation over the next couple of days, much to my discomfort, and much to her delight, although you could never tell it except for the eyes.

We had a good church service that night with two bonuses. One was Nate with his kids. I was in the front of the church and entered into a conversation with a group of young men there. I preached here as an evangelist 10 years ago and it was probably 7 years before that when I had visited. The church is full of second and third generation kids. Dan, Dave’s brother, would talk with us, thanking us for putting him up in Seattle one time, when I asked about grandchildren. Seventeen. Yes, the Chilliwack church believes in generational Christianity. Well, the next thing I know this bear of a man has wrapped me up in his arms. It was skinny Nate and he wasn’t skinny anymore and I had not recognized him at all. I was a bit embarrassed and I think Nate has forgiven me. Nate is my buddy. He saved me from the Canadian Mounties when they were looking for American salmon fishermen without licenses. He has reached the heights of business and he has plunged to the depths. I am sure God will help him find that perfect balance for he and his family.

The other bonus was the baby Garrett. No he is not a baby anymore. But, he still has that youthful skinniness that we seem to lose as we get older, no offense Nate. Garrett would lead the song service and he is married to a young Australian girl. She is pregnant, so there was joy in the camp. After the service Pastor Marks would have me share the one minute bible study with anyone who was interested. It was nice to have a platform filled with people as we had no problem getting it on everyone’s phones.

It was all easy living. We stayed with the Marks and ate all of their leftovers. We had special estate blends of Starbucks coffee each morning at the house before prayer. We would spend time up at Harrison Springs just walking around. We were able to visit further with Nate and his family, Garrett and wife as well as Shanda Lynn and her new husband (can’t remember the name) who is a psychiatrist. I had just referred to “Reality Therapy” again in a sermon so it was on my mind; but the time or place wasn’t there to hear his opinions. All in all it was just a nice time.

We talked about health. Pastor Marks has improved his posture since I saw him in July. A week after our departure he would be heading to Russia. Health is now a concern of theirs and ours as we all advance in age. We are cut from the same piece of cloth, howbeit, from opposite ends. I want a revival where people begin to live righteously out of a born again experience that springs out of their souls. Dave sees revival as more of a return to standards of righteous living. His point is that historically revival always comes with a return to holiness. My last couple of sermons here took some thoughts about Methodism and Wesley. Pastor Marks is right when it comes to the Methodist revival in England which would correspond with the Great Awakening in America. The Methodists would have meetings where strict rules of conduct were reinforced with verbal acknowledgements of failures. Dave might be right.

The next morning before going to prayer he let me know that we should take some time to work on a sermon. He said he had a title and everything. I asked what the title was: “In a Perfect World”. You are mocking me aren’t you. All is good and we did put some notes to his sermon in as much as I shared with him my take on Balaam’s strategy or counsel and how it applies to the church today. Sharri took Joan to an English shop to spend the left over Canadian money I had from 10 years ago and Dave and I met them at the bookstore before leaving town. The Marks of Chilliwack; somebody ought to write a book, I’d buy it.

Joan and I headed back to Seattle. We missed our Mission crossing but caught the next one much to my delight. It took us right by our old ice cream stop. You can’t miss with root beer ice cream. Joan only had one more stop she wanted to try and squeeze in. She had read about: Starbucks Reserve Roastery & tasting room. So we made our way to it just outside of downtown. Impressive place. We had to use the new transgender bathrooms. Well it just a common washing area with very, very private stalls for anyone to use. I guess that’s my new American future. We sat down with 6 small cups of our choice of 3 of their reserve blends. We bought some Fran’s Chocolates to enhance the flavors of the coffees. Fran’s was a small shop that I used to buy from for special gifts for Joan. Now it is allied with Starbucks. So we enjoyed the buzz in the room, very international, we sat at a small bar looking out through huge windows onto the street scene passing by.
I dropped Joan off at a hotel by the airport for the night, turned in the car, took the train to the airport and then got picked up by the Drout’s for a last Seattle meal at Pegasus Pizza along Alki Beach in West Seattle and made our way home the next day.

 

 

 

 

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Tonight’s Sermon

Three Verses for the Mind

  1. 2 Tim 1:6-7 Therefore I remind you to stir up the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands. 7 For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

The context is the idea of rising up and doing the will of God.

Paul reminds Timothy of a gifting from God that came into his life by the laying on of hands; but more importantly from the relationship that he had with Timothy.

Paul had previously referred to this gifting talking of the laying on of hands of the eldership and the giving of a prophecy.

It is more personal this time.

1 Peter 4:10-11 As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. 11 If anyone speaks, let him speak as the oracles of God. If anyone ministers, let him do it as with the ability which God supplies, that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belong the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.

So Paul’s exhortation to Timothy can be summed up by saying: fan up the flame of charisma that has been put in you.

It is the next verse that tells us what the problem is. Timothy is not fanning the flame of charisma; but is paralyzed in fear. He is not walking in power and love and his mind is messed up because the fears of life are not allowing the grace and gifting of God to move through his life.

Right now our natural condition should be one of living in the spirit of power, the spirit of love and a sound or disciplined mind; not the spirit of fear which did not come from God.

This Greek word for a sound mind is only used one time in scripture. A disciplined mind or a sensible mind. One translation is “holiness with sensibility”.

Now let’s look at a verse every one of us should intuitively know when we find our minds becoming cluttered and confused.

  1. 2 Cor 10:4-6 For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, 5 casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, 6 and being ready to punish all disobedience when your obedience is fulfilled.

The weapons of our warfare involve these three actions in conjunction with our minds.

1) Fighting against the powers of the world that “militantly” oppose the things (knowledge) of God. Our weapons, our faith, the power of God and unconquerable love must rise against the push of these lies and deception that seek to steal what we have in Christ. Today, we can name atheists, evolutionists and homosexuals.

Thinking of that look at this verse: 2 Cor 11:19-21 For you put up with fools gladly, since you yourselves are wise! 20 For you put up with it if one brings you into bondage, if one devours you, if one takes from you, if one exalts himself, if one strikes you on the face. 21 To our shame I say that we were too weak for that! But in whatever anyone is bold — I speak foolishly — I am bold also.

2) The demonic strategy is to affect our thinking patterns; bringing confusion and unbelief. Therefore:

“bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ”

I do not know of a more powerful verse cure for a mind infiltrated by the lies of this world and the spirits of anti-christ.

Paul would plead with us to take the time to describe the mind battles, the situations and emotions that we are carrying to Christ in prayer. The verse is taking aim specifically at the lies that the world puts on us; but many times our minds have been ransacked by many lies since we failed to fight against the first one that attacked us.

The best strategy is to take each moment of doubts and confusion immediately to the throne of grace.

3) The goal of all of this: to live a life in obedience to Christ.

The lies, the manipulations and the deceits of the world have a way of producing disobedience to the simple ways of following Christ. I am purposely saying simple ways; because we live under a grace with a personal relationship that trumps rules and regulations. The devil’s aim is to come in between you and the grace of God by clouding up your relationship with sin.

Your obedience triumphs over your disobedience; if you return to the life of grace and truth in relationship with Him.

It really is that easy. I am writing this under the umbrella that is describing weapons of war being used in a war over our eternal destiny. It still is that easy. If what I am saying doesn’t jive with your confused and hurt state; all I can say is “bring every thought into captivity to Christ”.

III. In conclusion: Paul’s prayer for us:

Eph 1:17-20 that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give to you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him, 18 the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that you may know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, 19 and what is the exceeding greatness of His power toward us who believe, according to the working of His mighty power 20 which He worked in Christ when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly places,

Thinking of the mind; this verse talks of: a spirit of wisdom and revelation centered upon a knowledge of who Christ is; your mind (understanding) (view of life) enlightened. Your mind can grapple with calling, inheritance and the greatness of the power that resides in us.

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Pastor Wayman Mitchell

Having finished preaching from “The Message of Stewardship”; I am reminded about how impressed I am with the fellowship God set me in. I got saved while on the road in the town of Wickenburg AZ. I prayed on Wed. and spent Thursday and Friday night in Conference in Prescott AZ where I heard the leader of our fellowship preach for the first time.

I got ahold of another book by our author Ralph Cushman entitled: “Will a Man Rob God?”. What struck me was a sense of failure that I sensed. Here is a man who has preached and taught “stewardship” in every avenue made available to him. He, along with many others, believed if the church could realize their potential in stewardship they could solve the many problems facing the world.

He takes a look at his Methodist fellowship and sees that only a small percentage of church members tithe; the minimal entry point to entering a life of stewardship where everything we have is considered a stewardship we have received by God.

I look at our fellowship and see a group of people that have taken Pastor Cushman’s teachings to heart. Faithful to tithe, attend church, pursue service and ministry; with an overarching understanding of the great commission to go out into the world to preach the gospel. Reading his book as a new convert prepared me perfectly for the calling on our fellowship.

These were all thoughts I felt as I taught the series in church the last couple of months. Then this piece of information was added to the mix. John Coon from Newsmax wrote an article in May of 2015 about 10 famous missionaries and much to my surprise and delight included Pastor Wayman Mitchell at number 5. He was included in this list: Saint Paul, Saint Peter, William Carey, Eric Liddell, Pastor Mitchell, Saint Patrick, David Livingstone, Hudson Taylor, George Muller and David Wilkerson.

While doing the series on “Stewardship” I came across this description of the end of John Wesley’s life from Wikipedia: “Because of his charitable nature he died poor, leaving as the result of his life’s work 135,000 members and 541 itinerant preachers under the name “Methodist”. It has been said that “when John Wesley was carried to his grave, he left behind him a good library of books, a well-worn clergyman’s gown” and the Methodist Church.”

From Newsmax’ article: Pastor Mitchell: “Wayman Mitchell is the founder of Christian Fellowship Ministries, a Pentecostal Bible-based fellowship of 2,100 churches in 112 nations. Personal evangelism and church planting are basic foundations of his organization, which grew out of early concert ministries he used to convert former hippies in the 1970s.”

Pastor Mitchell will be leaving behind, given more years of life, 2500 to 3500 itinerant preachers doing battle with the forces of darkness as we watch the unfolding prophetic calendar.

May God’s blessings continue to flow on Pastor Mitchell’s life.

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