The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world
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Nov 30, 2005?
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Today's Queue Stories ~**~**~**~
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September 24th, 2005
Facing The Storm Michael T. Smith
If you're a homeowner you most likely own a ladder, an implement of disaster, a necessity for every do-it-yourselfer. I own one of these devices, a twelve-footer, given to me by a neighbor. I was pleased then, but a year later I wondered what I'd done to him? Why did he want me dead?
Normally, only things within my reach are in danger of destruction. With my ladder, however, I can cover a complete twelve-foot radius. Within this radius can
be found many breakable items: windows, cars, power lines, and neighbors.
I once had the misfortune of living in a mobile home. Older mobiles, like the one in which I lived, had metal roofs; a source of many headaches. Constructed with two-foot wide strips of aluminum and pieced together with folded seams, they are prone to leaks. Winter snow builds up on the low sloped panels, and heat loss through the poorly insulated causes it to melt during relatively warm days. Water trapped under the snow, seeps into the seams. At night, when the temperature drops, the water freezes and forces the seams apart. This continues all winter long. By spring you're living in a sieve.
During one particularly nasty spring
storm, one with high winds and heavy rains, my daughter approached me, "Dad, there's a leak in my ceiling." She grabbed my hand, "Come on, Dad, hurry. It's a big leak." I hesitated. The first ball game of the year was on TV. How bad could it be? It was probably just a small drip.
She pulled me down the hall and into her room. "See, dad!" She pointed at her ceiling. "Look!" She wasn't exaggerating. The water poured though the ceiling in a steady stream, splashed on her desk, and ran off onto the floor, and soaked her carpet.
"See, dad. I told you so." She stood with one hand on her hip and her head tilted to one side, a miniature of my wife, proud she'd proved
me wrong. She was right; I needed to fix this right away. "It's OK, honey; I'll fix it for you." I said as I headed for the door.
I slipped into my rain gear and glanced out the window. I could think of several places I??™d rather be than up on the roof. The wind threw the rain against the windowpanes in sheets. The water running down the glass distorted the swaying trees and reminded me of looking through the heat rising from a campfire. I looked longingly at my chair, the beer on the table beside it, the open newspaper, and the ball game on the television. I sighed and thrust my feet into my boots.
Outside the wind-driven rain hit my face like hail. The storm roared through the trees, blew my hat
off, and caused my raincoat to flap behind me like a cape. I shielded my eyes with one hand and leaned forward to keep my balance. I trudged to the shed, opened the door, and there it was, "The Ladder." In my hands I could feel its evil power radiating up my arm like the red line of an infection.
The wind pushed and pulled at its length, and twisted me sideways as I battled my way back to the house. I propped it against the side of the house and returned to the shed for a can of tar and a brush.
From the roof I could see white caps on the waves in the wind-churned cove. They sped down its length and crashed against the rocks at its head. The road, which wound around its shoreline, was littered with
debris, tossed there by the force of the water. I spotted my hat tangled in the upper branches of nearby tree. Tomorrow it would be gone, carried off by the storm, never to seen again. The rain beat down on me, plastered my hair to my head, and made my glasses useless. I slipped them into my pocket and crawled to where I thought the leak might be. Near the edge of the slippery roof the wind blew up my backside and lifted my raincoat up over my head. It snapped in my ears like a flag on a windy day and covered my eyes, blinding me. To a bystander I must have looked like an umbrella turned inside out.
On my knees, I waved my arms in circles and battled my coat back into position, but not before the cold rain
had soaked my shirt, gluing it to my back. In control again, I located the leak and plugged it with globs of black, sticky tar as water ran into my eyes and dripped from my nose. It wasn't the best of patch- jobs, but it would do until the weather improved, and I could do a permanent repair.
I tapped the top back on the can of tar and drooled for a hot shower and a cold beer. A gust of wind, the strongest one yet, made me drop flat to keep from being blown over the edge. There was a scrapping noise behind me, and I turned in time to watch the ladder slide from view and crash on the ground below. "Now, here's a fine mess!" I thought as I lay there exposed to the buffeting wind and driving rain.
"Honey!" I yelled for my wife. "Honey!" There was no response.
"Georgia!" I screamed. Still no response.
I knelt and pounded on the tin plates until my hands were sore, but there was no sign of rescue. My wife can be excused for her inattention; she wasn't ignoring me. The fault lay with that slab of tin crap called a roof. When the wind blows, as it was on that day, it causes the panels to rumble and bang, making a noise like a dump truck passing over a large pothole. In bed at night, you can track
each gust as it rattles the panels one-by-one along the length of your home. It will start at one end, crash by over your head, and roll like thunder to the other end, making you wonder when you'll have that long- wanted skylight.
On this particular day my screaming and banging blended nicely with the natural sounds of a mobile-home, and my attempts to be rescued were just one more instrument in an orchestra of sounds.
Later that evening, after several well-deserved beers, it was easy to laugh about the ordeal, but at the time humor was the furthest thing from my mind.
That day reminds me that life often throws us a storm. We can't let it beat us. We have to put on our rain coats, lean into the
wind and trudge forward. We can beat the storm if we work hard to stay on our feet. Of course, there will be times when the wind will blow us back a few steps, as if we were caring a ladder, but when it lets up a bit, we slowly make our way forward. Storms don't last forever. They blow over, and the sun comes out. When it does, we'll be able to sit back, relax, and maybe even laugh. We have a choice: lean into the wind or hide in the closet.
I was very angry at the world because I thought it had mistreated poor lil??™ me. I was also angry with God because he had not given me a choice whether or not I wanted to be born. This disturbed me to the point that, at age thirty-two, I fell prey to the ???father of lies.??? At Satan??™s command I placed the barrel of a small caliber handgun directly into my mouth and repeatedly squeezed the trigger, believing this to be my final option. In my mind God had forced life, with all its miseries, upon me. I had become so angry with all the years of abuse (in my perception) I had suffered at the hands of those who supposedly loved me. Mostly though, I was angry with myself
because my life had no purpose, no meaning, no direction, and I was laden with sin. My self-esteem was at an all time low, and no one cared??”or so I thought. Apparently someone did care, and at the precise moment I squeezed the trigger, the gun ???miraculously misfired,??? and an audible spoke to me saying ???Don??™t Do This My Child!??? Over the next four to five years this ???Someone??? continually revealed Himself and his love in a multitude of ways. This someone is our glorious Heavenly Father, and his love was revealed to me through my family, friends, brothers and sisters in the Lord, and even directly through the comfort of the Holy Spirit. He also used many everyday things such as a bird singing; a beautifully shaped cloud; a gentle blowing breeze; a running brook; a budding flower; a child??™s
smile; and so much more. Not all at once, but ???Line upon line??¦,??? God taught me many of his principles, which drew me ever so close to him. Together we patiently endured the severest of trials and hardships, and never once did Father leave me. I further recalled much Galatians ???fruit??? being borne during this time of refining. All of this was of his design to perfect his will for my life. These ???tests,??? which could have easily become my tombstone, actually became many stepping-stones through the refiner??™s fire. I praise God that I
no longer remain entombed in the caves of rage, bitterness, and resentment. After all, hanging onto that stuff brings life-damaging consequences. I purposed to maintain an attitude of unspeakable joy and to live each day to the fullest. In which, by the way, came about by application of the many rich principles founded upon God??™s Word. My book ???The Miraculous Misfire??? was birthed out of numerous personal events where I purposely yielded unto the obedience of God; all of which occurred after my marriage failure in 1982. -2- In retrospect, I am most grateful for turning to God during this difficult period in my life. It was during this time that God allowed me to play a major role in demonstrating his love in and through this willing vessel. I am truly blessed to share my book
with you; during which time there were numerous manifestations of God??™s Word; a few of which are found in II Corinthians 4:16-18 and Isaiah 40:29-31. Not rebounding from my marriage failure accorded me a wonderful closeness to God. In sharing these adventures, many have asked why God used me so much. My reply is that I had a willing heart and, I spent many hours ministering upward to the Lord. In response, God used me effectively to minister outward to mankind. I got caught up in the wonderment of the person of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. My worship
God-ward empowered me to minister man-ward. To accomplish this, I spent countless hours laying prostrate before the Lord crying out ???Lord, use me in great and wondrous ways.??? Consequently, the Lord was faithful (as he always is) to perform his Word. It is my effectual fervent prayer for you to develop a deeply committed relationship with the Lord. In do doing, I firmly believe that what God did for me, he is willing and able to do for you. In developing this vertical relationship, however, you must be willing to maintain an undistracted devotion unto the Lord. If you set out to give God you best; he will do the rest. Be assured it has not been my attention to construct garrisons of dogma. My sole desire is to share what I discovered during my own road to salvation. Mine may be unlike
yours in some ways, and that is okay. In any event, may we together purpose to ???press toward the mark,??? ???walk in love; and ???rightly divide??? God??™s Word. May I also submit to you the following three challenges: 1) Dare to grieve what could have been; 2) Dare to celebrate the present; and 3) Dare to anticipate the future. As I have embarked to share ???The Miraculous Misfire??? with you, I pray that the Holy Spirit will tug at your heart. If so, someday we will ascent together ???in the twinkling of an eye.??? During that time we will be at Jesus??™ feet, and he will love on us for all eternity. May you be richly blessed, and may his grace and strength be multiplied unto you as we keep our hands to the plow, anxiously awaiting his glorious return. Prior to his return, however, may you continue
to ???occupy??? and purpose to build his Kingdom as you experience your own miracles.
Terry Ploeckelmann
raphapublishing@yahoo.com About the author
Terry Ploeckelmann is a father and a grandfather. He currently resides in Pennsylvania with his wife, where they both run Rapha Publishing. Terry??™s book is available for purchase on his website www.raphapublishing.com as an e-book.
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Poetry Section
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Spring
Bobby Harris
The sunbeams kiss the rose until it blushes. The daisies nod their heads in blissful glee; In treetops sing the carefree happy thrushes, Warbling forth their joyful melody.
A velvet green has covered hill and valley, And softly sighs the gentle breeze of spring; The drowsy butterfly begins to rally, Displaying colors rare on flitting wing.
The apple blossoms blush in rare profusion, The busy bee is hunting here and there; The songs of spring break forth in sweet profusion, And fragrance fills the soft and balmy air.
The brooks are babbling through the wooded places, Through sun kissed slopes and little shaded dells; Over rocky steeps and winding lanes it races, Till lost, at last, on mighty ocean swells.
The morning breaks with diamond sprinkled grasses,
I can truly relate to this one. I hope that you find another job that is closer to home and more suited to your skills. My thoughts and prayers are with you. I know this year has been a very difficult one for you.
? As I read First Day on the Job, I was reminded of the times I have had so many frustrations, especially when I was already under a lot of stress.? Some people seem to glide through life seeming to overcome hurdles with no problem.? With me, when one thing goes wrong, it becomes a chain reaction, sort of like falling dominoes.? As you know, I have been trying to go back to school.? Proving that I am a resident to these people at the community college is turning into my Waterloo.? I've been here all my life.? As in your case, it is all the different forms
of identification they want nowadays.? Makes me want to just forget the whole thing because it is so frustrating.? Anyway, good story.? Blessings, Sharlett?
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? I love the story Special People, Sharon Bryant,? and? I worked with the handicapped for awhile and I was always amazed at just how much they realized. I had never had? a reason to before but it was quite rewarding to see a welcome smile and recognition when you entered their rooms or homes. Nat.
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Prayer Requests and Updates
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Carol,
? ? ? I am keeping you in my prayers my friend.? I am asking God to
send you along the right path to a good job and a better life.? God bless you always.? Wishing you every joy, Joe
