tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473478979888413062024-02-06T22:25:15.052-06:00Sweet Water from the RockMusings from the heart of a believing writerSharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-51174384983888995182020-09-28T15:07:00.000-05:002020-09-28T15:07:47.039-05:00"Mama! The Chocolate's Here!"<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctvSvpklXJqFtMsKOC-f7Ra5KNGJ_DIPV-lmn3jEQEaM6e8q7iW4mgzfKqbBTmltivn10-a_o3mQzDrI4vh2c4xcvDJxew4llYqPcGUMC3OTwYF1GBUyiRJtiaIeckUKM726f0hH-v0xW/s550/DIMESTORE+CANDY+COUNTER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="550" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctvSvpklXJqFtMsKOC-f7Ra5KNGJ_DIPV-lmn3jEQEaM6e8q7iW4mgzfKqbBTmltivn10-a_o3mQzDrI4vh2c4xcvDJxew4llYqPcGUMC3OTwYF1GBUyiRJtiaIeckUKM726f0hH-v0xW/w393-h267/DIMESTORE+CANDY+COUNTER.jpg" width="393" /></a></div><p>I took the stairs two at a time to the third floor of the Jennings Building and ran down the two hallways that formed an “L” to get to Apartment 8. By the time I arrived, I was out of breath.</p>Mama dried her hands on a dishtowel. “Where’s the fire?”
That wasn’t very funny, considering that the Jennings Building suffered a fire
of some sort on one of its three levels every few months.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“The candy’s in!” Mama knew why I was dancing a jig around the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Settle down, Sharon Kay. Do they have the Wayne peanut
clusters with the maple filling?”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Yes, ma’am!” They’re opening the boxes and filling the bins
now. They have both kinds—the maple and the vanilla. And they got chocolate
stars and kisses and chocolate covered peanuts and raisins and vanilla drops
and toffee and…”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Whoa! Slow down, girl.” She went to her pocketbook, pulled
out her change purse, and handed me a quarter. “Get twenty-five cents’ worth of
the maple crème nut clusters.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Yes, ma’am! They got hazelnut snowballs, too.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Good. That will be for another week. Just the clusters
today.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">The ladies at the candy counter of Murphy’s dimestore knew
me by name. They also knew I had just been in the store taking inventory of the
shipment of the season’s first chocolate candy. Several of the candy bins were
heaped with fresh, shiny chocolate candy already. It was a big deal when the
first chocolate of autumn arrived.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Stores didn’t carry chocolate candy in the summertime for
two reasons. First, it would melt. Second, the worms would come. Too often I
had bought leftover chocolate candy bars at Hook’s Drug Store, only to open them
and find tiny worms crawling around. I’m sure they were the larva of something
or other that also liked chocolate. Mama said she thought the eggs must already
have been in the chocolate, waiting to hatch when warm weather came and the
chocolate was soft. That’s a mystery I never solved.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The two ladies who worked the counter greeted me with broad
smiles.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Twice in one day?” said the shorter and plumper of the two.
“What can I get for you?”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“A quarter’s worth of the maple clusters, please.” I had the
quarter and a dime ready to hand over. While I waited, breathing in the
fragrance of all the candies mingled together, I eyed the chocolate covered
mixed nuts. How I longed to buy some of those! Brazil nuts, cashews, almonds,
pecans—all covered with a thick coating of chocolate deliciousness. But, alas,
they were too rich for my…Mama’s…pocketbook. Someday. Someday. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The clerk handed the white sack over the counter. “Anything
else?”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“Yes, please. Ten cents’ worth of the Spanish peanuts.” </p><p class="MsoNormal">I
paid for those with my own money. I always appreciated it when folks would drink
their soda pop and leave the empty bottles standing up against a building or
laying in the gravel along the train tracks. I’d gather them up and take them
to the corner newsstand, where the owner would give me two cents deposit back
for each bottle, as long as it was in good shape. Two cents plus two cents plus
two cents plus two cents plus two cents equaled enough to buy two ounces of
warm, freshly roasted Spanish peanuts. Looking back with grown-up eyes, I think
those salesclerks, sweet ladies that they were, sometimes gave me a wee bit
more than I paid for.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>When I got home with the Wayne maple crème peanut clusters,
Mama already had the coffee brewing. Fresh chocolate was an event, and Mama
made it into a special memory, as well. She limited our intake for that day to
two clusters each, to make sure that we had a couple more days’ worth of
celebration.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Moral of the story? Don’t take your chocolate for granted. Four months without it
is a long time.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-33854750808969226852020-09-11T14:35:00.009-05:002020-09-11T21:16:53.655-05:00That Tuesday with Annabelle<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb-m3gS8UJyuCkpjV17Ra0r6PRhzJOM1vbt1fGg3mTs21OzFn_BSrmQGCh5tQeCMEZxW_jAVaSUnOsGuMmMQNf43Qe9tYvuxl8TedkgV4rA1wxRcsoyqi5PczGnUru0PyDOodzvsLG0X7u/s2048/Cracker+Barrel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="2048" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb-m3gS8UJyuCkpjV17Ra0r6PRhzJOM1vbt1fGg3mTs21OzFn_BSrmQGCh5tQeCMEZxW_jAVaSUnOsGuMmMQNf43Qe9tYvuxl8TedkgV4rA1wxRcsoyqi5PczGnUru0PyDOodzvsLG0X7u/w500-h260/Cracker+Barrel.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br /> <span style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">Think of the perfect September day. August’s sultry dog days are history. Puffball clouds drift across the azure sky. The colors of autumn are starting to wash over early-turning trees.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">That Tuesday was the perfect September day. Morning news droned from the TV, as I hurried around to get ready to meet my friend Annabelle at Cracker Barrel for breakfast.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news.” The announcer’s voice carried a heavy weight of import. I froze in my steps and pivoted to face the TV. He explained the horror I saw on the screen. A plane had flown into one of the twin towers of the World Trade Center.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">I immediately called Annabelle. “Is your TV on? If not, turn it on now!” I gripped the phone tightly while I awaited her return.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">Her voice trembled. “Oh, no! Dear Lord, n…!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“Nooooooooooooo!” I screamed as a second plane flew into the other twin.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">Hearing the first report, I thought it surely was an accident. Had the pilot suffered a heart attack? Had some control gone awry? What happened? When the second plane hit, I, along with the rest of the world, knew it was no accident. The United States of America was under attack!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">My friend and I were greatly shaken. For a few moments, we prayed and wept together.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“Do you still want to meet for breakfast?” I said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“Yes. I need to.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“So do I.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">I couldn’t believe Cracker Barrel. Everything was business as usual. What had I expected? A pall? A somberness? Something. Yes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">The hostess greeted us cheerfully and seated us immediately. We put in our coffee orders and opened the menus—which we ignored, as we looked around the restaurant. People were talking and laughing, sipping coffee, clattering silverware against earthenware plates.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“They don’t have a clue, Annabelle. They don’t know what has happened.” I had to restrain myself, because I wanted to stand up and let them know that this morning their world had changed forever. No. Let them laugh. Let them enjoy a few more minutes of peace. They’ll know soon enough.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">My favorite server came to take our orders.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">“Have you heard the news?” I said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">Her smile vanished. “Yes. We’re listening in the kitchen.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 31.5pt;">Going our separate ways after breakfast was hard. We recognized that we had shared a significant historical tragedy, one that every American living at the time and old enough to understand would have a story to tell. I know I will never forget that Tuesday with Annabelle.</p>Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-85589884587197921992019-09-29T14:53:00.000-05:002019-09-29T14:53:04.433-05:00'Tis the Season for Cozy Cottage Concerts!<div style="text-align: center;">
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How many people can you fit comfortably into your living or family room? Seven? Twenty? That's a perfect number for a comfy Cozy Cottage Concert! If you plan it around Christmas, it becomes a comfy Cozy Cottage Christmas Concert. Invite your favorite folks over for snacks and a storytelling performance by Sharon Kirk Clifton. Some restrictions apply. The stories must be a part of Sharon's regular repertoire, all of which are family-friendly, and the "cottage" must be smoke-free. Contact Sharon for more information. (See contact information on the "Storytelling Programs" page of this blog.)</div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-52072863305752280042018-11-28T20:56:00.000-06:002018-11-28T20:56:01.315-06:00Introducing The Innkeeper's Wife<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1GBGyJwFJffNdgtRmpYwIDb8acBA_bVxogv9IHjdMyiyyuTSoo6r2XqjBpXDe8H0SRjVyWfZZysAGQj8n7JCH8tfhM5ewgiuF_SRWP63zSZf-Kstmkiida7nqaU2rilz9Z9MmwrqlVTF/s1600/THE+INNKEEPER%2527S+WIFE+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1GBGyJwFJffNdgtRmpYwIDb8acBA_bVxogv9IHjdMyiyyuTSoo6r2XqjBpXDe8H0SRjVyWfZZysAGQj8n7JCH8tfhM5ewgiuF_SRWP63zSZf-Kstmkiida7nqaU2rilz9Z9MmwrqlVTF/s320/THE+INNKEEPER%2527S+WIFE+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">The Innkeeper's Wife </i><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">is a project that has captivated my heart from the very beginning. It is a first-person storytelling drama that spans Jesus' life from His incarnation to His ascension and concluding with the events of Pentecost. </span><br /></div>
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As the innkeeper's spouse, I tell of His miraculous birth from the perspective of Mary's midwife. Since both Mary and Joseph are kinsmen of my husband, we will have many occasions to host them, especially at the time of Passover each year. When the wee Babe becomes a man and begins His ministry, I do the best I can to keep up with news about Him.<br /><br />I'm there with the other women on that horrible day when pure, holy, sinless Love gives Himself to be crucified. </div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whether I'm working on a writing project--fiction or nonfiction--or a storytelling program, I revel in the research aspect nearly as much as presentation of the final product, because I learn so much--more than I would ever be able to include in a single program, which is why no two live performances are ever exactly the same. I let the Lord lead. He customizes each program.</span></div>
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<br />Be thinking about when your church, women's fellowship, youth group, children's worship, etc., would like to schedule a presentation. Though <i style="font-weight: bold;">The Innkeeper's Wife</i> is always in season, it is especially suitable for Christmas, Resurrection, Passover, and Pentecost observances.<br /><br /><a href="mailto:SKC.storyteller@gmail.com">Contact</a> for more information.</div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-3161561085717198982018-11-28T09:05:00.000-06:002018-11-28T09:05:34.794-06:00The Way I See It: "Merry Christmas!"<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: #eff1f3; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Here we are, once again</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">in the beautiful Advent season. And here we are, once again, trying to make a lost world wish us a merry Christmas as we go through the check-out line. The sad truth is that we may as well say, “Merry Giftmas,” since that prett</span></span><span style="background-color: #eff1f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #1d2129;">y much plumbs the depth of understanding for most people. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: #1d2129;">When I greet folks, I’ll say, “Merry Christmas.” I may even emphasize His title: Christ. If I know someone is Jewish, I’ll say, “Happy </span><span style="color: #1d2129;">Hanukkah</span><span style="color: #1d2129;">!” Jesus celebrated Hanukkah. It’s a beautiful, meaningful time that reminds us of God’s loving care for His chosen people. I’m glad that it comes around the same time as we Christ-followers celebrate the incarnation of God’s Son, our Savior, the Light of the World.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #1d2129;">The way I see it is this: CHRISTmas is our holy day. Why would I want to force non-believers to greet me in a prescribed way. It’s meaningless to them. If they want to, I’m not going to get upset or offended, but I’m not going to demand it. I want my life to reflect my Lord. Perhaps the Kingdom of God would be better served if, instead of demanding a certain greeting—or even signage—we looked for opportunities to engage in dialogue explaining the importance of our holy days of Christmas, Resurrection Sunday, and, yes, Thanksgiving, speaking the Truth in love.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #1d2129;">That’s the way I see it.</span></span></span>Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-41715017100106842392018-06-26T12:31:00.004-05:002018-06-26T12:31:54.422-05:00A Nation of Uncivil Cry-Babies<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6VSuTcXSgvjSmjyJujuJGKDB8URYg1NnoRZ3mw5-OMfQJal9ghb0lvqJy9g_QyP1sVauzh2TtN8RChpzNUx69qa-Zmk6EpkHOqs6rZemDUdrbiB9Z_9Ra-pt3i2IOF80X7S3AjBRLILr/s1600/Baronelle_Stutzman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="750" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6VSuTcXSgvjSmjyJujuJGKDB8URYg1NnoRZ3mw5-OMfQJal9ghb0lvqJy9g_QyP1sVauzh2TtN8RChpzNUx69qa-Zmk6EpkHOqs6rZemDUdrbiB9Z_9Ra-pt3i2IOF80X7S3AjBRLILr/s400/Baronelle_Stutzman.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Barronelle Stutzman, floral artist</i></td></tr>
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Barronelle Stutzman thought she knew the young man who had been her customer for several years. Whenever he came into her shop where she created her floral artistry, he always asked for her. They shared many cordial conversations. She knew he was gay; he knew she was a Christian.<br /><br />Then one day he announced he was getting "married" to his partner, and he wanted her to create the floral arrangements for their union. Barronelle respectfully explained to him that she could not do that. As a follower of Christ, she accepted God's definition of marriage as being a sacred ceremony among one man, one woman, and Christ. She told her friend that it was a covenant with the church. To use her art to celebrate something that would violate her core beliefs was unthinkable. Her customer seemed to understand. She went on to recommend other florists in the area who could do the job. He seemed to accept her answer.<br />
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Some time later, she was notified that she was being sued. Since then, she has be harassed and maligned by members and supporters of the LGBTQ faction of our country.<br /><br />Barronelle is not the only victim of our current uncivil disobedience. Most of America is aware of Jack Phillips, owner of Masterpiece Cakeshop, and his legal battles to save his business after he refused to use his amazing artistic gift to create a cake for another gay "marriage." It took the Supreme Court to vindicate him.<br />
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Then there's Maxine Waters, California senator (D), who loathes all things Trump, including his cabinet. Who hasn't seen and heard her curbside harangue in which she gathers a crowd of rabble-rousers and incites them to violence and harassment against President Trump, Vice-President Pence, and all cabinet members and appointees. That is one angry, bitter woman. Unfortunately, many are listening to her and following her orders.<br />
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Our liberties are being trampled underfoot. Many of those who perform these egregious deeds have never read the First Amendment, let alone the U.S. Constitution, short document that it is. The Declaration of Independence also has much to say that relates to what we now experience.<br />
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What we are seeing in our country today is reminiscent of the early days of the French Revolution, and the vitriol is aimed at Christians, conservatives, and anyone who dares to stand against the ultra-liberal agenda. A few days ago, White House Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders and her family were asked to leave the Red Hen Restaurant in Lexington, Virginia, for the horrible crime of being a member of the President's staff. Threats have been made against her family, including her children.<br />
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Recently, at Kilroy's, an Indianapolis, Indiana, bar and grill, a man was refused service and escorted out the door by the bouncer. His friends left with him. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment. Was he drunk and disorderly? Had he tried to start a barroom brawl? Was he not wearing a shirt and shoes? What? None of the above. He was wearing a cross necklace that the bouncer deemed "too big." It was perhaps 1-1/2-inches tall. Others in the restaurant were wearing larger pieces of jewelry and chains, according to customers who witnessed the incident.<br />
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Essentially, the Red Hen manager and the Kilroy's bouncer were saying, "We don't serve your kind." Jack Phillips, Barronelle Stutzman, and others who are faithful believers and live their lives according to the Bible have a good reason for declining business that would violate their faith. Why would LGBTQ customers even want someone to make a cake, create floral arrangements, take photographs, provide music, etc., who would not want to be there, who would not support and celebrate the event?<br /><br />I, too, am a follower of Jesus Christ. I do not do that which would violate my faith. I'm a storyteller. I don't tell for Hallowe'en events. There are other events I would and have declined.<br /><br /><b>Please understand this truth. If a Christian declines to provide a service or product for a particular event, that event is the reason for the declination.</b> It is not a personal attack against you. Barronelle says she misses her gay customer and hopes he'll come back to visit. I'm sure Jack feels the same way about the ones who sued him. Christ's followers are not haters. Quite the contrary is true.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The actions taken by the eateries I cited were personal. That was obvious. They declined service because they opposed the man wearing a cross and the woman who served on the President's staff. Kilroy's and Red Hen's way of acting out their dislike was with rudeness. Both Barronelle Stutzman and Jack Phillips were kind, courteous, and respectful.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">You don't like "my kind"? Fine. I'll go elsewhere. I'm civilized. I treat people respectfully because I'm the Christ-following kind, and He tells me that all humanity is created in His image. He tells me to love my enemies and to return unkindness with kindness. He says I should pray for my enemies. He tells me that He loves those who would mock me as much as He loves me. Can you believe that? That's called grace. And He has given me so much grace th<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">at I'm compelled to serve it to others.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I do need to give you a word or two of caution, though. If you make it personal, and it's obvious that you don't like my kind and word of that gets out, my kind will do you a favor. We won't patronize your business, because we don't want to cause you undue stress by our presence. We'll stay away, but we won't spit at you. We won't take you to court just for refusing to accept our business. We won't trash your business or attack your family. We won't yell obscenities at you or incite a mob of rabble-rousers to surround you and your family. We won't try to shame you or threaten to kidnap your children. We'll just go elsewhere to do our business. And when your bottom line turns from black to red, you'll understand why.</span></div>
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<br />Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-66166689642633691302018-03-31T13:01:00.000-05:002018-03-31T13:01:42.883-05:00The God of the Impossible<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here's your assignment. You have 21 days to come from the other side of the world with a family immigrating to the United States, a family that speaks very little English. Once here, you must help them get to the little mission house serving as a landing place for them while they get oriented; gather documentation needed for ... everything; help the husband to navigate the job-search <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">jungle; tap into every resource you can think of to locate and secure clean, affordable, safe lodging; find reliable transportation to and from the job; and get your own furniture and household goods out of storage and make arrangements for transporting those items to their new home. Twenty-one days, two of which were consumed with the effects of jet lag at the beginning. How will you ever do that? It's daunting. No. More than that. IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!</span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”*</span></i></b></blockquote>
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You see, God has a people, a band of bold believers willing to say, "I can help with that!" <span style="font-family: inherit;">God is always right on time! That's how God works. He's seldom early, but He's never late.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Get them to the mission house with their luggage? Check!<br /><br />Documentation? Check!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Job? Check!<br /></span></div>
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Lodging? Check!</div>
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<br />Transportation? Still to be discovered. </div>
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<br />Household goods moved? Pending, but arranged.</div>
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Six days left. Hey! That's exactly how long God used to speak the universe into being and form man to be His image bearers.</div>
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To God be the glory!</div>
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<b>*Matthew 9:26</b><br /><i>Any names used have been changed to protect their privacy. Thank you for reading.</i></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-25849590257691696852018-01-15T10:38:00.002-06:002018-01-15T11:08:45.322-06:00Dead in 20 Minutes!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"EMERGENCY ALERT! Ballistic missile threat inbound to Hawaii. </h3>
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Seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill!"</h3>
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You may recognize that message as one sent out to mobile phones and television stations in Hawaii on the morning of Saturday, 14 January. For months, our 50th state has been preparing for a missile attack from the crazy man in North Korea. Part of that preparation includes drills, of course. Apparently, there have been other drills, but this time someone pressed the wrong button, and the message exploded. It was at the time of a shift change. Someone may have gotten distracted. A few minutes later, a tweet went out cancelling the alert. At the time of this writing, we've yet to hear of the far-reaching consequences of this <i>OOPS! </i>moment<i>.</i></div>
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A missile's trip from North Korea to Hawaii would take about 20 minutes. That set me to thinking, If I had 20 minutes to live, 20 minutes before I and everyone within miles of me would be vaporized, 20 minutes before my faith in Jesus Christ would become sight, as I suddenly saw Him Face to face, what would I do?</div>
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I would hope I wouldn't panic. Testimony from other Christians who have received a death sentence or a close call, say, from a cancer diagnosis, help to inform me about that. God often imparts an almost supernatural peace. (Search this blog to find the entries of a series I wrote a few years ago entitled <b><i>The Gospel According Joe</i></b>. "Joe," a friend of mine, is now with the Lord.)</div>
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So what would I do? Call people I love and express to them the depth of my love? They already know it. I have no problem telling folks that I love them. It comes naturally because God first loved me and tells or shows me so all of the time.</div>
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The first thing I'd do is call one person. He says he's an atheist. He wants nothing to do with God. He's convinced that those who follow Christ are mentally unstable. If someone tries to discuss spiritual issues, he mutters and walks away. He's cold to the Gospel.</div>
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I'd prayerfully try to contact him, praying that he'd answer his cell phone and actually listen to me--praying that, before the missile hit, my friend would repent and accept Christ. If any time remained, I'd go looking for others to tell. It would be a crisis witness, with no time to be gentle, no time to establish a relationship.</div>
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That's what I believe I would do. I wouldn't worry a whole lot about offending people in those moments. I would simply speak Truth quickly.</div>
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What would you do with that 20 minutes?</div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-31815718629913940342018-01-11T21:15:00.000-06:002018-01-11T21:36:37.907-06:00What's to Fear?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I consider all of my fellow believers, business owners, who are targeted by the secular religionists bent on suppressing the freedom of Christians to live out their faith, I wonder what it is about Christ followers that presents such a dangerous threat to the secular religionists? Is it our love for humanity? Our honesty? Our desire to be responsible stewards of God's creation? Our humanitarian works here in this country and around the world? Our strong work ethic? Our cha<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ritable giving? Our respect for the rule of law, the U.S.Constitution, and those entrusted with the protection of our citizens? What is it?</span></div>
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Sure, we're people of the Book. We live our lives according to its teachings because every word in the original languages is God-breathed, inspired. But we don't force our beliefs on anyone else. God tells us to share the Gospel, the Good News, but we do that only with those willing to listen. Even then, their response is up to them. So why do the secular religionists feel so threatened that they go on the offensive to squelch our Constitutional freedoms? Are they afraid that if we're allowed to share our beliefs with others, those who listen might begin to think for themselves; they might inexplicably start to reason on their own? Then that could possibly lead to accepting the Bible as Truth and becoming Christ followers themselves? Is that the core fear?</div>
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The question is rhetorical, of course. We know the answer.</div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-15607970656739266832016-08-18T14:01:00.000-05:002016-08-18T14:01:25.900-05:00Church Discipline: A Loving Act?<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;">
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As I write this, I'm listening to John MacArthur give the most beautiful, most comprehensive explanation of church discipline I've ever heard. He's framing it as a great act of love. We know the Good Shepherd goes after that one lost (straying, also?) lamb, but through church discipline, administered according to the Scriptures with compassion, humility (for none of us are without sin), love, and truth, Father allows us to be a part of that act of drawing the wayward lamb to repentance and re<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">storation. He does not simply let His sinning child wander farther from the Savior. That would be cruel.</span></div>
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Why does He let us have a part in the reclaiming and restoring of that person from our faith community? I think it gives each member of the body opportunity to closely examine his own spiritual condition. We're not to exercise church discipline to make ourselves feel self-righteous, for we have no grounds for such arrogance. We're all wretched sinners, even on our best days.</div>
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Of course, the one being disciplined may refuse to accept it. The Bible also instructs us on how to respond to that circumstance. Whatever the outcome, we cannot cease to pray.</div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-4661845337874958482016-04-28T11:32:00.002-05:002016-04-28T11:32:42.757-05:00Note: Type "The Gospel According to Joe" in the blog search window to read previous epistles.Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-30039972519246465302016-04-28T09:29:00.001-05:002016-04-28T09:29:10.290-05:00The Gospel According to Joe: HOME AT LAST!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>O, GLORIOUS MORNING!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>I'M HOME AT LAST!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>I'm looking upon His Face, the One Who saved me by His GRACE!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>("Joe" entered the presence of our Saviour and Lord at 3:16 a.m. this morning.)</b></span></div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-51662212920709682342016-03-21T11:28:00.002-05:002016-03-21T11:28:45.048-05:00A View Toward Calvary<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #abc4a0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 30px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
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<i>©</i><i><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> 2007, 2014, and 2016 by Sharon Kirk </span></i><i><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Clifton</span></i><i><span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">I huddle at the foot of the Cross.<br />My arms stretched to grasp it,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">my head bowed,<br />eyes pinched so tightly they hurt.<br />Silent sobs wrack my being.<br /><br />The men are gone.<br />The Brotherhood, save one, has forsaken the Master.</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;"><br />Other women stand,<br />bow,<br />lie prostrate nearby,<br />each alone,<br />forsaken,<br />desperate,<br />desolate.<br />I hear their weeping off in the distance,<br />at the perimeter of my own sorrow.<br /><br />Roman soldiers stand silent,<br />stone-faced,</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">trying to understand,<br />yet bound merely to duty.<br />Scribes, </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">Pharisees, </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">Sadducees<br />cluster together and mutter into their self-righteous beards,<br />rehearsing their excuses.<br />Their mumbling blends, segues </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">into the rumbling of a gathering storm.<br /><br />Messiah, on the Cross, lifts His head to Heaven.<br />With one last lingering remnant of strength,<br />He pushes against the spike that impales His feet,<br />pulls up on the nails that pierce His wrists,<br />draws in a gurgling breath,<br />licks His lips to moisten them, to make speech possible,<br />And cries out to the Father Whose Face is turned away.<br /><br />"<i>It is finished!</i>"<br /><br />A pronouncement that will echo throughout Eternity.<br /><br />I look up as His weary, abused head<br />sinks to His bosom,<br />where so many children had rested their heads<br />and received His blessing.<br /><br />A drop of His vermillion Blood<br />rolls down one of the thorns<br />that comprises a crude crown.<br />In one interminable moment,<br />I watch it<br />fall;<br />I tip my face downward in shame,<br />knowing my own unworthiness,<br />yet yearning for His anointing.<br />That Sacred Drop<br />Splashes on my head and covers me o'er.<br /><br />A mourning veil shrouds the sky.</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">Night invades </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">midday</span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">. </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16pt;">The Earth shakes.</span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-69224716981487384972015-12-28T08:15:00.000-06:002015-12-28T08:15:45.584-06:00Crisis in Nepal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivf3cRQzoo1NBCKYwJQmy5lGJ8C96Uem6XidmLjrWr8u1JZns1itie2Y8KL0s0g_j0CMiZl6r-1LdBuJC3G2-IA2ULY2N7bliStELGCrNwYD6M9XRR9dXXXfs7DmDHpwgJSAfblLFCfc1a/s1600/Exclamation+Point.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivf3cRQzoo1NBCKYwJQmy5lGJ8C96Uem6XidmLjrWr8u1JZns1itie2Y8KL0s0g_j0CMiZl6r-1LdBuJC3G2-IA2ULY2N7bliStELGCrNwYD6M9XRR9dXXXfs7DmDHpwgJSAfblLFCfc1a/s320/Exclamation+Point.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<b>I just tweeted:</b></div>
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India has Nepal under siege. Pls pray! Pls contact gov't reps to pressure India: "Lift blockade!" Ppl are dying w/o food, fuel, and medical!</div>
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Nepal recently held an election and adopted a new constitution. Because the people chose not to return their country to being declared a Hindu nation, the prime minister of India, an ardent Hindu, is enraged. Nepal is its own sovereign country, but the PM of India is bullying India's northern neighbor in an effort to force the people to renounce the constitution. He has set up a blockade to keep all supplies out of Nepal. That includes fuel, food, safe drinking water, medical supplies and trade items. Further, he is inciting border thugs to riot along the border. People are dying in the skirmishes, and millions more will die of starvation, exposure, and lack of medical care, if the blockade continues. Also, Nepal depends heavily on the tourism of trekkers and mountain climbers. They're not likely to go to Nepal if they have no guarantee of being able to get around in the country or secure supplies. Nepal is a country in crisis.</div>
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Will you please PRAY, tweet, and post on your social media platforms about this situation? Will you contact your representatives on Nepal's behalf? It's worse than the chain of earthquakes Nepal suffered earlier this year because the blockade affects EVERYONE! It's winter here; it's winter there. They have no fuel to heat their humble homes, very little food and medical supplies. I feel this very personally because my family soon will return there and soon will resume serving "the least of these," children, people they love very much, the poorest of the poor--people who are just like you in the ways that really matter.</div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-25948622517728768772015-12-19T09:40:00.003-06:002015-12-19T09:46:04.438-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Celebrate Me [Nearly] Home!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlkvc6RstAZPOGVIHnZjkCiG0vEjkC1EwiAbDOpb9DZnpTYrIDt0CElFhd5sTZike1AHcAlu_bJ5bJ87QFz_7Q6NDRQBPqUYKGkemGIEARxjeMCwpHcndgMlah-ckBEwIJF0J8Z0PRSz_/s1600/JOE+to+Heaven.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlkvc6RstAZPOGVIHnZjkCiG0vEjkC1EwiAbDOpb9DZnpTYrIDt0CElFhd5sTZike1AHcAlu_bJ5bJ87QFz_7Q6NDRQBPqUYKGkemGIEARxjeMCwpHcndgMlah-ckBEwIJF0J8Z0PRSz_/s320/JOE+to+Heaven.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today's update is brought to you by God, author of the Number One Best Seller, the Holy Bible</h3>
<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>First a note from Joe's Pastor</i></span></h4>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">My heart is overwhelmed with both joy and
sadness. It is right to grieve, but I will not grieve as Joe's wife or children
will—and perhaps others. I grieve as pastor, a brother in the Lord, a friend
and as one of those who have been greatly impacted by Joe's influence. No one
else has had a more significant impact on my adult life than Joe - particularly
on my role as a husband and a father. His unity in the gospel has been a unique
privilege. There's just so many times he has been used by the Lord as I have
served Christ as a pastor to minister to me I don't know where to begin. For
now, I simply send this to you all - the church family he has so loved. I will
travel this Monday with my friend Andy McCracken to visit Joe and his family. We
all would do well to read this final note - repent of our idols and seek to
live in light of eternity. His idols are mine as well. I'm broken.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
With a heavy heart and much hope in Christ,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Kevin R. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Pastor</span></i></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">*******</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have had a great life:
57 years. A wonderful childhood, a loving family—Mom and Dad, sisters and
brother, an aunt and uncle who loved me more than I can know, great childhood
friends—Jim, Roger, Brett, Steve, Tim, and many more whom I can’t remember
right now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve enjoyed freedom to
explore, freedom to make mistakes, freedom to take risks. I have traveled to
all 50 states and several other countries. I’ve taken trips to some of the most
wonderful places on Earth, spent two summers running a fishing camp in Canada,
made four trips to Hawaii, including one for five weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I earned a master’s
degree from the #1 business school in the country and exercised that knowledge
through great careers spanning 35 years, leading and helping others reach their
potential. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">God has blessed me with
a wonderful church family and pastor, great friends, amazing in-laws, a
wonderful Godly wife, seven great children, two wonderful daughters-in-law, and
a son-in-law who is a wonderful mate for my daughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">For 56 years I was in
great health. During that time, we built my dream house, a 6,000-square-ft. log
home on a secluded and beautiful property that we named Utopia (thanks Linda
for loaning us the name). I acquired tractors, motorcycles, ATVs, a powered
parachute, guns, snowmobiles, and basically anything my heart desired. If it
sounds boastful or prideful, I apologize. I am merely stating facts to make a
point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">So what is that point? All
the above were idols for me. ALL. Of my 57 years this last year with this lousy
cancer has been my best! None come close to being as good. It has been the
hardest and longest year of my life but I would not trade one day of it for the
any of the 56 years prior. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">How can this be, you
might ask. Because God, through His Son Jesus Christ and with the work of the
Holy Spirit, has redeemed me. He has saved my soul. He has striped me of every
idol mentioned above. He has shown me that He alone is worthy of my love and
praise. He has proven over and over that He is completely trustworthy. He has
opened my eyes. This is my best year!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Today Hospice takes over
my care. I have stopped all treatment. The side effects of the drugs aren’t
worth it to me. After four different chemo regimens that didn’t work, it’s time
to throw in the towel. I am so happy that the end is near for me. I won’t miss
anyone or anything here because I will be in the presence of Jesus Christ,
worshipping Him forever! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Obviously, I don’t know
my time. Only God does, and I trust His timing. Would you pray a specific
prayer with me that God will take me soon and peacefully? My prayer is tonight,
but again, it is His will, not mine. But I do know He answers the prayers of
the righteous. Please stop praying for my healing. I want to go Home. My wife
and family are in agreement, as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">So I leave you with this:
<b>Trust Jesus, Trust Jesus, Trust Jesus</b>.
He alone is worthy. He alone saves—not any of your good works or good
intentions will get you to Heaven, but they will send you to Hell. If He can
save a wretch like me with all my idols, He can save you. <b>Trust Jesus, Trust Jesus, Trust Jesus.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">If you know me and can
do so, I hope you will make it a priority to come to my funeral in Columbus
Indiana. It will be a great time of celebrating!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Good bye and I will see
some of you in Glory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>And as always if you
ever want to start at the beginning of these updates then please check out the
link posted by my dear sister in Christ Sharon at http://sweetwaterfromtherock.blogspot.com/<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-50288268129296498032015-06-06T13:54:00.000-05:002015-06-06T13:54:32.330-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Gospel According to Joe: The Good News Makes a </span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Great Day</span></b></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Joe's Eighth Epistle</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqunM2RXFLs1zsR2AKTNIWr3Samu2rG8Cof7GWVN6DRFgAXhgfA6nTXzRsZy6MvST_Hsf3mnntvly6xmC6APROJfzHjADtj6GFsJ0mrE4ckbG0lhmEpmurBLa-CSJE6OumrI14ifoeoU3V/s1600/Man+Reading+Bible_Hands+Only.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqunM2RXFLs1zsR2AKTNIWr3Samu2rG8Cof7GWVN6DRFgAXhgfA6nTXzRsZy6MvST_Hsf3mnntvly6xmC6APROJfzHjADtj6GFsJ0mrE4ckbG0lhmEpmurBLa-CSJE6OumrI14ifoeoU3V/s400/Man+Reading+Bible_Hands+Only.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Today's update is brought to you by the following sponsors: College Park Church, Indianapolis; Jesus Christ, and the Holy Bible.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yesterday, April 26, 2015, was a hard day
and a great day for me. Friday I had back surgery on three vertebrae. They
attempted to rebuild them. Time will tell the success of the surgery. On one of
them, the surgeon had to hammer through the outer layer to get to the inside,
where he said it was mush. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am so ready to be going
home, but, for now, God has me enduring. Today I go in for a blood draw to
check my numbers to determine what the next phase of treatment will be. I’ll
meet with the doctor the following Monday to review the numbers and discuss
options. This Wednesday is my last <i>scheduled</i>
chemo treatment; however, they tell me that I will be on chemo the rest of my
life, so it simply means they will change the regimen. They want to do two bone
marrow transplants, if the numbers are favorable. I am not excited about the
idea but remain open to God's leading. Such a hard journey, but God is good! I
will be praising God and laughing about this in eternity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I say yesterday was a great day, because I got to hear the Good News that
Jesus died for my sins to make a way for me to have a restored relationship
with a Holy God—that Christ has forgiven me of my sins and has provided mercy
and grace through the sacrifice of God's only son, Jesus. While I was not able
to attend our church that we love and fellowship in, I was able to attend on-line
our son and daughter-in-law's church at </span><a href="file:///C:/Users/Owner/Documents/www.yourchurch.com/watchthissunday" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">www.yourchurch.com/watchthissunday</a>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (8 am, 9:45 am or 11:30 am). When I can't
make it to our home church, this is where I go and am always blessed by the
worship and preaching of the Word of God. Don't get me wrong. There is no
substitute for the local church, and, if you have a church that is faithful in
rightly dividing the Bible, then you should always prioritize fellowshipping, </span><span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">worshiping</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> and serving there. God has so much to say on that subject. Please
support your church! If you don't, won't or can't get to a church that preaches
truth then I highly recommend the link above. I have others to recommend as
well. (Thank you to those who have linked me to their churches). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The message yesterday was
http://www.yourchurch.com/sermon/whoever-calls-on-the-name-of-the-lord-will-be-saved/
from Romans 9:30-10:13. It was directed at unbelievers and “religious” people
who lack real saving faith. It doesn't get any clearer than this. Take time to
listen. It could very well be the most important thing you will do in this life.
My soul was so satisfied and blessed, as it always is when God's Word is taught
boldly and correctly. If the Gospel is not preached boldly and honestly where
you attend, find a church where it is. I can help. I am so thankful that I have
a pastor who does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Again, I thank you for joining me in this journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh God, help us to want You!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-49808699256969836512015-03-06T14:28:00.000-06:002015-03-06T18:08:27.257-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Preparing for the Court Date<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Joe's Seventh Epistle</span></h2>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDefz3Dm-BKsQbM3jC_48pWM7ygUyGIpjmBi_ST8P8f04Tpk3rltONCTDs2EcpYA_RfVX2uIYCKleJU2aS8CKiYUG1ZQy0bPKAvQX29rXmryhHC0L4bsSWJ5qE-WhHtbBa3EER26oxhyphenhyphenC/s1600/Paoli+Peaks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDefz3Dm-BKsQbM3jC_48pWM7ygUyGIpjmBi_ST8P8f04Tpk3rltONCTDs2EcpYA_RfVX2uIYCKleJU2aS8CKiYUG1ZQy0bPKAvQX29rXmryhHC0L4bsSWJ5qE-WhHtbBa3EER26oxhyphenhyphenC/s1600/Paoli+Peaks.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Paoli Peaks, southern Indiana</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today’s update is brought to you by the following
sponsors; 3/4, Anna, Bowles, Suffering, Card, and Mom. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Yesterday, February 19, 2015, was Chemo # 14. The last
two weeks have been rough. I learned that Chemo treatments need to continue as
my main cancer marker number has stalled out at 2.5 for the past month. It
needs to fall below 1. I also learned that I most likely am <i>not</i> a good candidate for a bone marrow
transplant because of a genetic marker I carry. I have another appointment on March
4 with the doctor to get an update and discuss future treatment options. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Next week I have an MRI to determine if additional
back surgery options are in my future. This past week was four hard days, two
not-as-hard days, and one okay day. The chemo effects are building up in my body
and the dynamics of how I feel continue to change week to week. I am so ready
for relief one way or another. Although I am ready for this cancer to leave, I
thank God every day for this lousy cancer and how He is using this to refine my
faith in Him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Anna, my daughter Lily’s best friend, celebrated her 14<sup>th</sup>
birthday with a party at Paoli Peaks, a ski slope in southern Indiana, this
past Tuesday, which was my one good day of the week. Anna has been such a joy
to Lily and our entire family for a decade. She is a lovely young woman full of
grace, kindness, joy, and smiling. We love her dearly. In fact, we love her
whole family dearly. They minister to us through our local church as faithful
members serving the entire body and encourage us weekly in so many ways. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Anna invited our whole family to go skiing. Even
though I grew up on skis living in Iowa (I know; who grows up on skis living in
Iowa?), I failed to teach our younger four children how to ski—another regret
from a life sacrificed to the idol of work. So off to the slopes they go to
learn from someone else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What a perfect day for skiing! First snow of the year
here and 23 degrees! No broken bones, and I was able to watch them for a couple
of hours. Plus two bonuses: first, Tyler, our second oldest and now a doctor,
was able to go with them. He headed home early with us to rescue his wife from
finals as she finishes up her teaching degree soon from IU. So we were able to
enjoy a couple hours with just Tyler, which was great. The second bonus was my
getting to film Stephen, our youngest son (16), falling. He <i>claimed </i>it was the only time that day. To
quote Stephen, “Un-stinking Unbelievable!” Somehow it was my fault, which
further made my day. Happy birthday, Anna!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*** </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I am learning that every one of us will suffer. Up
until this cancer, our family has had some suffering, but never to the extent we
are experiencing now. Anyone who has lived long enough will testify to this
truth: you will suffer. How we suffer, how we endure, and in what hope
we put our trust matters, being of eternal consequence. For the unbeliever and for the fringe “Christian” (one who perhaps attends church now and then and even knows the vocabulary, but does not have an authentic relationship with Christ), suffering will result in despair and unbelief. There will be no
eternal reward for them. It is so hard for me to watch and listen to those suffering
without Christ. They are fighting a losing battle and are having “their best life
now.” Oh, how my heart breaks for them!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I honestly cannot believe all the people that have had,
are having, and will have cancer. Nearly every family has someone or will have someone
fighting this battle to varying degrees. If we don't stare cancer in the eye at some point, we certainly will face some form of suffering. So how should we prepare for the events that will shake the foundations of our faith? With a sound Biblical belief system that can only come from the One Who created us, the One Who modeled the ultimate
suffering by sacrificing His only,
perfect, sinless Son for a sin debt He didn’t owe, the One Who proved His infinite love for us by dying on a cross to pay off our debt so that we could make peace with God the Father once and for all! God gave us Jesus. He has given us everything
we need in this life and the next through His son Jesus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What we believe matters! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">In fact, it matters most. We need to prepare ourselves now. It will be too late when suffering
hits. Moral fortitude, rugged individualism, positive thinking, perseverance
and endurance on our own leads to death and leaves us empty and without hope. (This is no weak, watered-down hope, as we often use the word today. I <i>hope </i>it doesn't rain tomorrow. I <i>hope </i>I get a raise soon. This hope is an assurance that rests on the promises of God as presented in the Bible.) For the believer who has mourned greatly over his sin, asked forgiveness, placed his faith in the living Christ, and truly made Him Lord of his
life, there is such glorious hope in the promises of God and the peace that
Jesus gives—peace that will see the Christ-follower through every circumstance.
That person can face suffering, assured that Jesus Christ will go with him every step of the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">And if that suffering should bring the believer face
to face with the Righteous Judge, he can know the living Christ
has wiped the sin account clean with His redeeming blood, shed on the cross. Brothers
and sisters in Christ, we stand firm in our faith. Christ will restore! He has
promised to save to the end for a future reward with Him. Hold fast to the
promises of the Bible. Be ever aware of the enemy, for Satan seeks to destroy
our faith. As my good friend reminds me, “Cling to Jesus, cling to Jesus, cling
to Jesus!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">For those who haven't had their sins forgiven, read
the Bible (begin with the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), listen to Biblical teaching at a Gospel-preaching church, pray to God
that He open your eyes to your sin and your need to repent before a holy,
loving, just God, and run to Jesus. Friend, you will be spending an eternity in
either Heaven or Hell. No sane person willingly chooses Hell, but here is the crazy
thing: no one can choose God. Only God can open the eyes of a sinner. We all
deserve the wrath of God. The critical starting point is to understand Who God
is. Pray. Read the Bible. Pray. Read. Pray and read! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Last time I reported that I was able to sleep in my
own bed. Well that was short lived as I soon found out that our bed, after 15
years, was worn out and had a huge sag in it that caused my back to ache every
night. So we went bed shopping. Six mattress stores later, we bought a Bowles mattress which is made in
Indiana. At last, I can get a good night’s sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Recently I told you about my brothers in Gatesville Penitentiary,
Texas. They continue to encourage my soul. I have received at least a hundred Cards
of encouragement from friends and family since this lousy cancer. My friend Jim,
who ministers to these men regularly, forwarded me a card handmade by Danny,
one of the brothers, and signed by many. The card is the most beautiful card I
have ever received and the notes from my brothers brought me to tears. Please
pray with me for these men: DAnnal, Sebastian, Luis, Gerardo, Robert, Alex, José,
Wes, Matt, Alberto, William, Ruben, Stanley, Vance, C.J., Rashid, Rick, Laredo,
Cervantes, Loren, Stevie, Faluth, Leo, Clint, Keith, Goodson, Aulie , D.C., Philip,
Ron, Charles, Adrien, Danny, Sammy, Jonathon, Jamie, Eugene, Ruben H., Jeremy,
LeRoy, Patrick, Clayton, Oay, J.J, and Steve. I am so humbled, honored and
thankful for these men who continue to encourage me in the midst of their
suffering. I love these brothers and can’t wait to see them either in this life
or the next! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Speaking of love, I love my Mom. She is an exceptional godly woman. She is fun, funny, smart,
wise, loving, caring and has more common sense and business savvy than most
people I know. I wanted to share some wisdom and encouragement she recently
gave me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">OVERCOME; to obtain the mastery over or the control of.</span></div>
</blockquote>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Of course, it is not of your own doing to overcome. Is it not the Lord God who
is in control of your life to cure or not to cure? You and I both know that
everything happens because of His grace, goodness and mercy. Surviving the
cancer is up to Him. I hope I'm not detecting doubt. Yes you do have the worst
kind of cancer and the highest stage. You have come a long way since Oct. Just
because your doctor said maybe you would not be a good candidate for a
transplant, doesn't mean that’s final. I’m sure you must have an inkling of
what Hell would be like, with all the agony, pain, nausea, tingling,
sleeplessness, muddled mind, stress, anxiety, loss of strength, weakness,
concern for Beth and family, tired of pills and shots and just plain weary.
You have to be motivated not through the body but through the Holy Spirit. You're thinking, <i>Sure Mom, you don’t have the
cancer.</i> Remember we are more than conquerors through HIM who loves us. Praise God
you have been saved and chosen to be a child of God even before you were born.
Will all the suffering you’re going through help you to realize how Christ
suffered on the cross? After blessings comes the battle.</span></div>
</blockquote>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Love, </span></div>
</blockquote>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Mom
Psalm 46:10. </span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Friends, brothers,
and sisters, I am </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">praying</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> for you as
I trust in Christ alone,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-21964804420460657162015-03-05T05:00:00.000-06:002015-03-05T05:00:00.671-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Reason to Hope<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Joe's Sixth Epistle </span></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiYIDQHDFDPgr_GMe90RUW_uXb9zhupKV6EGpRRQejnzoAEnYpEQivtc1L3ClsKU_W-aw6tmMwnyJo77U5WK8KZt-G38pBQGRcEdoVcnnjGUSeV_PfvAKJGpfWCwp8geCm1PtVUYrsNVO/s1600/SMART+WATER.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiYIDQHDFDPgr_GMe90RUW_uXb9zhupKV6EGpRRQejnzoAEnYpEQivtc1L3ClsKU_W-aw6tmMwnyJo77U5WK8KZt-G38pBQGRcEdoVcnnjGUSeV_PfvAKJGpfWCwp8geCm1PtVUYrsNVO/s1600/SMART+WATER.jpeg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<h2 style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today’s update is brought to you by the following sponsors: my
bed, Smart Water®, brothers in Gatesville Penitentiary [Texas], pastors,
2.9, and the number 30.</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today, January 14, 2015, was Chemo # 9. Last week was
tolerable because that was Cycle 4 in my regimen, which leaves off the infusion
and the massive dose of steroids. But today is Cycle 1, which calls for all the
guns and translates typically into four days of survival mode. This, too, shall
pass. Believe it or not, I still thank God every day for this lousy cancer. I
would not trade anything in my 56 years for what God has taught me and changed
in me through this cancer. Nor would my family. For he has revealed to me
Himself and like Paul the Apostle, I count all other things as filthy rags in
comparison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Last night was the first night in three months that I got to
sleep in <b>my own bed</b> with my own wife!
Oh, what a thrill it was to upgrade out of the hospital bed (a lifesaver when I
needed it) to our king-size pillow-top bed. I was giddy! The kids thought I was
nuts. The things I long for are the simplest things in life—walking outside,
listening to a friend over a cup of coffee, throwing a rock in the water,
fishing, dancing with my youngest daughter, Kiara . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Speaking of simple things in life, I want to take this time
to do a commercial. May I recommend Smart
Water®? Purity you can taste, hydration you can feel. Before cancer, water
was not my drink of choice. Not sure what was, but I know it wasn’t water. I’ve
never been a proponent of buying water when it runs freely from the faucet. Until
now. It seems that the smart people at Smart
Water have figured out how to bottle clouds! I really can taste the
difference. And now that I have to consume at least three liters of water daily
to keep my kidneys and liver functioning properly, well I am a fan of Smart Water. And if you want a double
blessing, buy it at the greatest store ever in the history of the world
(according to a good friend): Walgreens!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have had several requests to forward these updates to
others and am happy to, as you instruct, for the Glory of God. Be encouraged
not by what I have penned, but rather by the Source of my hope.<span class="MsoHyperlink"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Recently I learned from a dear friend that he and about 100 brothers
he ministers to in the Gatesville, Texas, penitentiary have been praying for me.
I am so humbled, honored and thankful for these men who in the midst of their
suffering would consider me. My heart is drawn to them. I find myself praying
for them daily and desire to someday greet them in person and pray with them
for their deliverance. Before cancer and this great work that the Saviour has
done in my life, I never would have dreamed of setting foot inside a prison. Now,
I see and know that I am no better than any of my brothers in Gatesville and
just as deserving a sentence as any of them—if not to society, then to God. I
love these brothers. Will you join me, brothers and sisters in Christ and pray
for these men, that their souls will be set free by Jesus?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thank you, God for showing me the
love of a stranger who is suffering perhaps more than I. Oh for the day when we
all worship the risen Saviour as free men! Free from the slavery of sin! Oh
what a glorious day that will be!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">During this journey, I have been encouraged by hundreds of
people in so many ways. One small group that has provided me with much
encouragement while feeding my soul daily is a handful of pastors. One of these
men is my own pastor, whom I love dearly, as he is faithful to the Gospel and
preaching verse by verse. Additionally, I have been blessed by four other pastors
that minister to me on a regular basis. God has sustained me as they take time
to share with me their passion for preaching the Truth and their ability to
rightly divide the Word of God. They have spent countless hours with me, either
in person or via emails. I thank God for these faithful men. What is amazing to
me is that each of these men has a profound ability to preach the Gospel but
have been called to, and is faithfully serving in, a “small church”. I often
have wondered why God doesn’t call them to “big church” so that many more
people can hear truth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am starting a new email list for any of you who wish to be
included as these men share their truths with me. Leave a “Comment” to this
post, and I will send you their updates a couple of times a week. Be sure to
include your email address. Please pray for these faithful brothers as they
face so many challenges in our culture that despises the preaching of the
Gospel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">God has been so faithful to our family through this lousy
cancer. We continue to thank God every day for His care and for refining us
through this suffering. I have shared much before about how He is using His
Church in our lives and we continue to be amazed at the faithfulness of His own.
God has left us speechless with the generosity of the faithful. It is so
humbling and yet glorious to see His handiwork. Never would I have imagined
that I would have been on the receiving end of so much outpouring from His
people. I want you to know that we see His glory through your generosity of
provisions and prayer. Thank you, saints! Thank You, God!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer October 22, 2014,
they tested marrow and blood to determine what stage I was in. Stage 1 is 0-3.5.
Stage 2 is 3.5 to 5.5. Stage 3 is above 5.5 and comes with an average life
expectancy of 309 days if untreated. My number came in at 5.9. Honestly,
without prayer and treatment I am fairly certain that I would not have made it
to Christmas 2014. Now, after three months, thousands of prayers, and nine
chemo treatments, my number is 2.9! Praise God! The Doctors are encouraged and
they are beginning to talk about bone marrow transplantation. My bones are
beginning to heal and my thoughts have turned to survival. I know this disease
is incurable, and typical life expectancy is 2-5 years after treatment, but
there are plenty of examples of survivors making it 10-15 years. I am thankful
for His healing. The pain is tolerable. The chemo is terrible. The future is
scary only because I am fearful that all He has taught me will be lost, and my
idols, pride, and criticism will creep back in. Please, please pray for me that
God will continue to heal my heart as He heals my body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lastly, I have a specific rather selfish prayer that I am
praying for: that I can be done with chemo in 30 days. Original time frame was six
months, but four months sounds much better. Will you pray with me? God doesn’t
promise healing or shorter-than-normal chemo. He promises healing to the soul
and rest for the weary. He also delights in giving good gifts to His children
and glorifying Himself. Perhaps he will delight in granting my request.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am <b>praying</b> for
you as I trust in Christ alone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-23396132982324780332015-03-03T23:10:00.000-06:002015-03-03T23:18:42.703-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Dancing in the Surf<h2 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Joe's Fifth Epistle</span></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnC6whQv1VZC4imG5e_MUGvhrSINPGInmjdH-mn5DL-0BnJEXlYsrkMfs0iIlL7GoXRDrCDYSpa9KyPPnYW5WzTS4jTNo6iSW_kikuiVqUdTrJBDFTlX-h-BybGsGVhgpim3E5-fTQjC5/s1600/Surf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnC6whQv1VZC4imG5e_MUGvhrSINPGInmjdH-mn5DL-0BnJEXlYsrkMfs0iIlL7GoXRDrCDYSpa9KyPPnYW5WzTS4jTNo6iSW_kikuiVqUdTrJBDFTlX-h-BybGsGVhgpim3E5-fTQjC5/s1600/Surf.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Today's update brought to you by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Do7tyssMkpM">Monsterfroboy</a></span></h2>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Today’s is Tuesday, December 2, 2014. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">So tomorrow is Week
3 of chemo. I’m beginning to learn what to expect, especially after spending
two days with my sisters this week, both of whom are nurses. My kids inform me
that evidently some of my most endearing traits run in the family. Stephen
summed it up best: “Your sisters are a lot of fun, but they are nut mutts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Wednesdays are
OK days, with anxiety about needles, pills and learning something new about
what’s coming down the pike. Thursdays through Sunday mornings are just tough. Sleepless
nights, tingling arms and hands, blah stomach, headaches—and nothing tastes or
sounds good to eat. “Chemo Brain” and simply getting through the day is a struggle.
Sunday afternoons through Wednesday mornings are bearable and sometimes good. It’s
good to begin to see a pattern, to know what to expect, generally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I am happy to
report that lately my thoughts are, <i>Lord,
what will I do with my life, should You spare me of this lousy cancer?</i> Two
weeks ago, I was losing ground daily and could not even imagine the thought of
survival. Wow! My son the doctor was so frustrated with me because I honestly couldn’t
see any hope of getting past this. Now watch. Tomorrow I will be taken home. Wouldn’t
that be funny in an odd way?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One of the
things that has lightened my day when they are so long is to watch some old video
music clips that Brett, our oldest son, put together of a few family gatherings
many years ago. Check out “A Day at the Beach,” and “Monsterfroboy” on YouTube to
see several of his works.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thank you so
much for your prayers, cards, visits and encouragement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Trusting in
Jesus Christ Alone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-13422985247866110452015-03-03T10:53:00.001-06:002015-03-03T23:18:15.945-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Rules of Engagement<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Joe's Fourth Epistle</span></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZf2o4NvlB6BrAO7XEkwARwlc4dNf8oXM4dwPYbklB8Eg_I99SKS_eINfWBokHnnTMo4r5RK6Sh2tMjP8CGXPwWgRWdpKQxi9uB5qD5zy6p6Nr6QW2huPfuRey46k7tRD8fIAUkDGk6QSL/s1600/Tullian+Tchividijan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZf2o4NvlB6BrAO7XEkwARwlc4dNf8oXM4dwPYbklB8Eg_I99SKS_eINfWBokHnnTMo4r5RK6Sh2tMjP8CGXPwWgRWdpKQxi9uB5qD5zy6p6Nr6QW2huPfuRey46k7tRD8fIAUkDGk6QSL/s1600/Tullian+Tchividijan.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Tullian
Tchividijan</span></td></tr>
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Today's update brought to you by Tullian Tchividijan's book <i>Do I Know God?</i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">November 24, 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A few years ago, I took my family on a work trip to
Gulfport, Mississippi. [I was] working for my friends at Hartson-Kennedy and, specifically,
my very good friend Edmund and his team. I absolutely love the South and became
quite fond of the Biloxi-Gulfport area. The people are delightful, and the
seafood is amazing (Mary Mahoney’s, Half Shells, Cap’n Al’s, Shoo Fly Inn, Back
Bay, Beau Rivage, Aunt Jenny’s, with my friend Glenn, and last, but not least,
Saki, with Bruce and my dear departed friend Doug).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">While there, we stayed in a beautiful condo across
from the beach and were able to take in a few of the sights over the weekend. On
the way to work, I would pass over the Tchoutacabouffa River. I never learned
how to pronounce [the name] despite my several attempts with Edmund. I even
have it recorded on my iPhone. As many of you know, I like to have fun and make
challenging games. True to form, with the family in tow, I told them that we
would soon be approaching a river and there would be a sign of its spelling. If
anyone of them could pronounce it correctly, I would present them with $100. But
they only got one shot. Oh my! Allie, who is now 18, was so close they said I
lost all color from my face. Do you know how to pronounce it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Today is Day Four, post first-chemo treatment. For the
next 25 Wednesdays, I will be going through chemo. I am praising God that the
side effects have been minimal so far. But more than that, I am praising God
because He has given me a vision and purpose to use my cancer and redeem my
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">These past three weeks, I have gone from deep anguish,
where my fervent prayer has been, “Lord, take me home <i>now</i>,” to “Lord, use me up for Your Glory until it pleases You to
take me home.” Specifically, I am praying for the miracle that He spare me of <i>all</i> the typical side effects of chemo so
that He can accomplish these things through me. (Certainly, I see the selfish
side of this petition and I am praying that this is not my feeble attempt to
negotiate my selfish desires with God).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Here is the vision and purpose He has given me:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">First, to become the spiritual leader in my home to my
wife and children that I have neglected for, oh, so long, making Him the center
of our home every day. Second, to share my testimony of my great hope in the
Gospel of my Lord Jesus Christ to my extended family, friends, church body and
all those to whom He has put in my path every day possible. Last, for the
strength, energy and clarity of mind to accomplish these purposes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I think of Paul, when he said in Philippians 1:21, “For
me, to live is Christ and to die is gain”. While I don’t fully understand this,
God is revealing more of His truths to me each day. This miracle of clarity of
Scripture and a deeper understanding of the attributes of God is a direct
result of my current condition and, as I again told my family, I thank God every
day for this lousy bone marrow cancer!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So, my praying friends, please join me in my fervent
prayer to accomplish what He has given me until He takes me home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My mind is random today, so I am sure my writing is,
as well. So back to the top. Many of you have asked and offered to let you know
if there is anything you could do to help me and my family. And as I have
reported to you, the Church and God’s people have come to our aid on so many
occasions and we are left not needing. Thank you, dear friends! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">But today, I am excited, as I have discovered there is
something that you could do for me. I would like to invite you into a
discussion centered on a book that I am going to read. Reading for some reason
is very difficult for me these days and I am only able to read in short spurts.
My plan is to read a chapter a week and then engage in conversations around
that chapter for another week. So, a chapter, 12-18 pages every two weeks with
discussion. Eleven chapters. The way I figure, that will get me to the end of
my chemo treatments and will give me many hours of rich conversations with my
friends and family while I am battling this cancer with sleepless nights and 20-plus
hours flat on my back. One of the most amazing things I have discovered during
this cancer is that I detest TV. I am only able to tolerate an hour a day and
that is only if I’m watching with my whole family and a show like Dick Van Dyke
or Carol Brunette. The shows I used to love and could watch endlessly nauseate
me. As a result, I have what seems to be an endless number of hours to fill
each day. And what better way to spend then with you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The way I see this working is for me to present some
questions, thoughts, ideas to you out of the book and if you are moved to
engage then you can do so individually via email. Talking is still a problem
for me, so email and texts are it. I have always been a man of action with set
goals and a purpose. This will help me immensely as I seek to redeem the time I
have left. Certainly, I understand busy schedules and life getting in the way
and you have much grace to not engage me in this invitation. For those who
choose, well then, let’s get started!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The book is <i>Do I
Know God</i> by Tullian Tchividijan. Tullian is the grandson of Billy Graham. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">1. You need to buy a copy. I bought one from Amazon
for $6. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">2. Email me that you are in! [Leave a “Comment” that includes your email
address, and I, Sharon Kirk Clifton, will call it to Joe’s attention.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">3. Read the first chapter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">4. We will engage in conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">5. Consider inviting others to read with us. Wouldn’t
it be fun to have hundreds of people involved? Although the reality is that I
will be pleased with just one that is faithful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">If you have already read it, read it again with me! I
appreciate authenticity, vulnerability, transparency, and sincerity. What I
don’t value is insincerity and doing this with me out of guilt, pity, or duty. If
you commit, then please see it through with me. I would rather you not start
than to start and then stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">You may think that you don’t need to read this. You
may think you already have this question answered. You may think I have a
hidden agenda. You may think--? Here’s the deal: it doesn’t really matter. I am
inviting you to go down a journey with me to help you discover the TRUE answer
to “Do I Know God?” And in the process
of discovering that answer, you will be filling one of the purposes God has
given me. How’s that for laying it on you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Trusting In Christ Alone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 27.35pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Joe <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-20492576469522662712015-01-20T12:50:00.000-06:002015-03-04T09:21:55.654-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: Defining CHURCH<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidLkGg1Rb1axd3N3PZ1RLEkTAfajYNECL6rEIM9e-uL4yVAV5qHxx-xPn7ogBLfOO20AWUcul0nIZNOdnefGX8PjUjLr3e21-PyxGhwDcykV99XqLGuzynzgt4m-w_oVaPAINKNl2GAjd/s1600/CHURCH_Daniel+Dempster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidLkGg1Rb1axd3N3PZ1RLEkTAfajYNECL6rEIM9e-uL4yVAV5qHxx-xPn7ogBLfOO20AWUcul0nIZNOdnefGX8PjUjLr3e21-PyxGhwDcykV99XqLGuzynzgt4m-w_oVaPAINKNl2GAjd/s1600/CHURCH_Daniel+Dempster.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="http://gallery.topazlabs.com/Photography/Daniel-Dempster/i-khRZK9z">Daniel Dempster</a></td></tr>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
Joe's Third Epistle</span></h2>
<div align="center">
<em>I use aliases throughout this series to protect the privacy of Joe, his family, and friends.</em></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Today’s update is brought to
you by better living through drugs.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is Wednesday, November 19, 2014. Let me get the details out of
the way first, because I am uncertain how much I will be able to write tonight.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I finished radiation treatments earlier than expected this week because
they want to start chemo ASAP. In fact they wanted to start today, but I said
no thanks. I needed a mental health day (as my sister has done once a quarter
for the past 20 years—you should try it) between radiation and chemo. Good call!
I have had two good days. Of course <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good</i>
is relative, but by my new standard, they were good! I start chemo at 1 p.m.
and will repeat every Wednesday for the next six months or until the Lord takes
me home! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The treatment consists of one
drug that is infused into blood stream, one drug that is injected under skin in
stomach, and two drugs that are administered in pill form—massive amounts—30 or
40 at a time. I will have some treatments in Indy and others in Columbus. Not
sure how that all will fall out. Please pray that God will spare me of all the
side effects that these pills offer.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">These past nine days has been rough. I’ve gone for being plugged up for
four days to can’t find the valve to turn the spigot off for four days. Today
we have reached a happy medium. There have been many day and nights of anguish,
but God has been so gracious to give me joy, humor, hope, purpose and some
relief along the way just when needed. God is good all the time!<br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been blessed to have the company of some great friends,
including my beloved pastor. Our children and their spouses have also poured
into us. There are many others that want to stop in, but most days I am overwhelmed
and not up for visitors.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A funny thing happened today. Two ladies from our church stopped in to
encourage us. As they were leaving, one said that her husband wanted to take
care of me by filling in for Beth, my wife, so she could go to church tonight. One
of the side effects of some of the drugs I am taking is panic. I panicked! I love
her husband. He is an elder in our church. My son married his daughter (with
whom I am well pleased). I trust that brother with my life and the oversight of
feeding my soul. But there is no way that he is going to do what Beth has had
to do to me these last four days! I would never be able to look him in the eye
nor he me. Thanking them for the offer, I took a hard PASS!</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> One of the most amazing things happened this week. I was talking with
Beth about all the outpouring of help, and, while many have given sacrificially
of their time, food, stuff, and assistance, I wondered if God would use His
people to support us financially if we were to have a need (which we don’t at
this time). We have met our deductible and all medical cost is 100% covered. God
knew beforehand and has provided for our short-term needs). Please understand, some
friends already have gone beyond our imagination. We are living in a beautiful
home in a beautiful neighborhood for free at great expense to my brother and sister
in Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So much God! when will You stop?</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I know myself and know how reluctant I would be to send money without
seeing your financial status. Behold our God! <br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The next day, I received an email from a great friend and brother in
Christ. Here’s how it starts out: “We want to support you financially.”<br /> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I assured him that I was not in need at this time and expressed my
thankfulness for his willingness to be used by God. Amazing! And then in
typical God fashion (He has such a great sense of humor; after all, not only
did He invent sex, but He also invented humor), we got three Buckets of Love
from our homeschool co-op program that our kids go to once a week. Inside these
buckets were cash, gift cards, movies, laundry service for two weeks, and the
most uplifting cards from students, faculty and board. Our souls continue to
feast on those delights.<br /> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Again, I laugh as God humors me even more. Did I mention they did the
same thing this week? Most of these people I don’t even know and have never met.
Beth and the kids are the ones who participate. Who, but God’s people? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Oh, how you have humbled me, Father!</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Whether I live or die, my family will be like these
families and pour into others, not knowing the specific needs, but, rather,
giving sacrificially as they serve the Savior.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I want to clear up something that’s been bothering me, something I
think I may have misrepresented regarding the Church. It is one of two organizations
instituted by God. The other is marriage. He likened the Church to His Bride. (I
would be honored to explore what God’s Word says about His Church, its purpose,
and its attributes with you.*) I fear that I have told you all the man-centered
benefits of the Church, which are much the same as our views of God. <br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Most people—and I was one for so many years—believe God to be a kind of
cosmic genie. He’s here to grant us all the goodies whenever we are in need and
provide the miracles. That, my friend, is a small, inaccurate view of God. The
full teachings of Scripture reveal a high, God-centered view of Himself. The
blessings that I have mentioned poured out on our family about the Church,
reeks of a Santa Claus view, when in fact the Church exists to glorify God, to
equip the believers for battle, to discipline the members, and to confront
habitual sin and heresy with the purpose to restore the believer to the Body,
to proclaim the Good News of Christ to the unbeliever, to rightly divide the
Word of Truth, and to provide oversight of our souls by the Church leaders. These
are some of the eternal benefits of Church. Taking care of each other is a temporal
benefit, one that shows the rest of the world the love of Christ for our
believing brothers and sisters. <br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I didn’t understand these truths until I began serving and got engaged
in a healthy church. I was the Lone Ranger Christian, bucking against the
institution of Church, not wanting anyone to tell me how or when to worship God,
thinking I could do church on my own. All they want is my money. And, God, You
are one lucky guy to have me on your team. Boy, was I wrong on everything. Scripture
is very clear on these matters. Don’t believe me? Read the Bible. Have someone
help you understand. I have many friends that do church out of obligation,
duty, habit, kids, tradition, fear, guilt, social club etc. Some don’t go
because of the reasons I’ve listed. Some don’t go because the Church is full of
hypocrites. You know what? You are right! There are no perfect churches because
they are all filled with sinners like me. And if you believe like I do, that at
least 50% of church goers are not true believers, but, rather, wolves in sheep’s
clothing, then you will be all the more skeptical of church. But know this: There
are churches that preach the Gospel and the full counsel of God. Find one and
GO! If you need help finding one, I have resources. If you are going to a
spiritually dead church stop today, even if Mommy and Daddy still go there, and
run to a church that loves Jesus and feeds your soul from the very Word of God!</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I have had so many rich conversations with people vía email and text
these past few weeks. I wouldn’t trade them for this cancer. I thank God every
day for it. Sound crazy? Not if you know my Savior. Engage me on it. I would
love to tell you more. One of the things I have shared with several people is
that I know why I have this cancer! Want to hear? I thought so.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Two years ago, I was challenged by a dear brother in Christ to really fight
my sin and idols and really love God. I began praying in earnest “Lord whatever
it takes!” God has answered my prayers. He alone is faithful and worthy. He is
refining me with His fire. He has torn down and trampled every idol I am aware
of: sex, lust, entertainment, food, relationships, titles, education, wealth, money,
income, security, toys, land, house, vacations, spiritual knowledge, giving, pride,
career, busyness, comfort, health, children, and wife, just to name a few. God
is teaching me so much. Sure I would like to be rid of this cancer but I pray
that I never go back to what I was. God is oh so faithful and I am so thankful
for how God is using this cancer for His own Glory and my eternal benefit.<br /> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It is late, I am tired, and I have a big day ahead of me. I am praying
for you that God would open your eyes and save you, if you are not a true
believer, and if you are, that He would draw you nearer to Him. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Please pray for me, also.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />Trusting
in Christ alone,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Joe</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Husband, Father, Friend and Follower of Christ, Saved by His Matchless Grace and Forgiveness by His Death on a Cross for a Wretched Sinner as I.</span></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If
you wish to dialogue with “Joe” on any
topic raised in this series of letters, please “Comment” including your
email address. As his health and strength permits, he will be happy to converse
though email with you. As the owner of </i>Sweet
Water from the Rock<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, I reserve the
right to moderate comments. </i>–Sharon Kirk Clifton</span></span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>Again today, Blogger allows me no changes in text style. I apologize for emboldened font. That is not my choice. Blogger gives me no choice on this day.</em></span></span></h3>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-44863894523574577972015-01-02T19:06:00.000-06:002015-03-04T09:22:21.897-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: The Body of Christ at Work<h2 align="center">
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Joe's Second Epistle</span></h2>
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<em>I use aliases throughout this series to protect the privacy of Joe, his family, and friends.</em></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today’s update is
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today is Saturday November 8, 2014. Last
Saturday, my cousin Bob and his wife Cici stopped by. It was an encouragement
to see them. We always enjoy talking to them. Bob always makes me laugh and
raises my spirit. Next time you see Bob ask him to tell you about his dermatologist
appointment. I hurt myself laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I think I missed my first election since being
of voting age. I hope they got it done without me this time! I have moved four
times in the past two weeks, so I am hoping that the campaign donation requests
don’t catch up to me for a while. My sister Martha, who also has been fighting
cancer (Breast Cancer) the past nine months warned me that there would be many
silver linings along the way, perhaps this was one </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">J</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Martha has been such an encouragement to me, and
of course now I have so many regrets of not supporting her like I could have because
I was “too busy.” God has such a good sense of humor!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Speaking of God’s humor,
let me tell you some funny stories that happened to me just the other day.
Monday morning, we were prepared to travel to Indy to begin the process of
radiation therapy when Dr. Val called at 7:45 a.m. and told us that he talked
with his partner here in Columbus. The Columbus doc could<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>get me in the same day to start the process. We didn’t have to go
to Indy! Wow! That would save us approximately 3 hrs. a day of severe
discomfort. So, we headed for Columbus hospital for a 1:45pm appointment to do
the initial consultation hoping to get started on Wednesday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Oh! Back to the funny
part. So I got up, took a shower, and was already out of juice. So instead of
brushing my teeth I decided to Listerine it. We were still living in the RV [since
the new owners of our house had taken possession], and I had this huge bottle
of green Listerine. I reached for it and noticed there was another small bottle
of clear Listerine. Upon inspection, I learn that it is Ultra Clean 3X, more
powerful! I asked Beth if I could use it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Sure go ahead. I’m sure
Allie won’t mind”. I took an extra-large swig knowing how bad my breath smells
to me, let alone to some unsuspecting doctor or nurse. Upon gargling, I noticed
a burning sensation unlike any I had ever experienced before. While said liquid
was still in my mouth, I quickly re read the bottle. Yep, Ultra Clean 3X. I held
it in my mouth as long as humanly possible, timing the expulsion so perfectly
between that fine line of killing every conceivable germ in my mouth and
passing out. At this point I begin to see a light of hope at the end of the
tunnel. My thoughts turn to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why don’t
they just use this stuff for chemo?</i> And then to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I bet I have the freshest breath on Earth!</i> After a solid one minute
of drooling over the sink, unable to talk, breath or spit I get the bright idea
to use the green bottle. It tastes like candy! </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At the hospital, I saw
the doc, and he looked over my charts. At that point, he decided to bump all
his other patients and put me at the front of the line. It was a long afternoon.
I was able to get my first treatment Monday around 5 p.m. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They focused radiation
on my lower back. The x-rays show more issues than you can shake a stick at in
my back. An hour after the treatments, the nausea set in. By 8 p.m. I was vomiting
every 30 minutes. Beth was able to get some meds for it to subside by about 1 a.m.
But not before wrecking my ribs and diaphragm, which is now the source of most
of my pain. It was a very hard start to the week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Tuesday was new day
bringing new hopes. After a night of hardly any sleep and plenty of time for
prayer about many things, there was clarity for me as to where we should seek
treatment. My good friend Luke had advised me early on, calling it a “no
brainer.” It became crystal clear to me now that we needed to stay in Columbus
for one reason—our church. For the benefit of our family <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> the benefit of the church. I know that only you who are in a
healthy church will fully understand this. Others will see my decision as
stupid, especially since there are treatment centers that specialize in this
cancer that have average life expectancy results from 1.9 to 5.7 times better
than the average hospital. Indy/Columbus is not one of them. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I asked Beth to begin
working on a place for us to call home. True to form, she began by praying and
reading Scripture because that’s who she is everyday, not just when her husband
is dying of cancer. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">God worked mightily and
swiftly. Beth received a call from her good friend Amanda, with whom we used to
go to Church. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Here are the first words
out of her mouth: “Beth, can I help you find a house today?” Who can do this
but God? Amanda has only recently become aware of our situation and certainly
knew nothing of the decision we’d made 30 min earlier. Amanda began working (or,
more accurately, God did) and within two hours she calls Beth back to tell her
that by 8 p.m. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that very night</i> we can
move into a house that would be fully furnished with beds, a hospital bed,
recliner, wheel chair, food, appliances, and the necessities to live! Who but
God and His Church?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It turned out that there
was a Christian family we met four years ago that was prompted by God (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in the middle of the night</i>) to remove
their beautiful 5 bedroom home from selling it on the market two months ago in
order that they could minister to a family in need. Two months ago! Who but God
and His Church? </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now here is the coolest
part. None of these people go to our church. Do you see? God is not only using
our church (Bible Baptist, a small but faithful body of 125) but three other churches
in our community: Terrace Lake Community Church, Parkside Baptist Church, and the
Reformed Presbyterian Church, to bless us and provide for our needs. I am so
encouraged by the faithfulness of God’s people as they serve in the local church.
I have many friends that claim to be believers and yet do not get connected and
serve in a local Bible-preaching church. I once was that guy about seven years
ago. I could not go through this battle, or life, for that matter, without my church
and church family. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I live to tell you my
story and would love to have an honest discussion on the matter. Dying, I am
learning brings about the boldness about which Christ instructs us in His Word.
And here is the funny part; we are all dying. My window is 5 months to 5 years,
but the reality is that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you may beat me
there</i>! So, please engage me. It truly is the only thing that I am living
for, which is to Glorify God and sharing the Gospel. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So, by Tuesday at 8 p.m.,
with the help of dozens of people from four churches, we were ready to move out
of the RV and into the beautiful home! Beth and the kids met at the house and
thanked those moving us in. Tears of joy seeing God’s overwhelming love,
protection and provision flow freely from our family as they witness firsthand
the hands and feet of God working through His Bride the Church. Words cannot
express what my heart feels even now.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tuesday was also the day
I found out from Allie that the bottle of Ultra Clean 3X Listerine had recently
been swapped out with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">rubbing alcohol</i>!
Needless to say I had yet another training session with kids.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wednesday was my best
day this week! Because of the hospital bed and the new home, I was able to get
out of bed without injuring my poor back, and Luke, my good friend and brother
in Christ made the trip from his home in Iowa to pray with me and encourage me
in the Gospel. Who does these sorts of things? I understand friendships. I
understand family but what I am learning is that our brotherhood in Christ is a
bond that lasts an eternity and that eternity has begun in this life for true
believers. I realize as I am writing there is another church that is supporting
us: Luke’s church in Iowa, Oak Hill Baptist.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some of you don’t go to church because it’s “full of hypocrites.” Most churches
are, at the most, 50% true believers, the rest are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Some
of you have been burned by church people. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> One thing I know for certain—there
are no perfect churches because they are all filled with wretched sinners like
me, but there are churches that preach boldly the Word of God and God has much
to say about His church and why you should be serving in one, growing and
living out life with fellow believers in the church. He designed it. He calls
His Church the Bride of Christ. He has instructed us plainly to be part of a
healthy church. Most, if not all, the books in the New Testament were written
to the Church, not to individuals. Engage me on this. Search the scriptures. Your
eternity hangs in the balance.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My body continues to
wear down. I can see it daily. My zeal for God increases daily. Scripture most
days is the only thing that satisfies me and encourages me. When I read Scripture
now it truly comes alive! It jumps from the pages in living color. I see it
Lord, I finally see and understand! Oh how I pray that you will see it, too. That
the God of the universe will save your soul! That the Almighty King of kings
and Lord of lords will save you from your religion of works. That your dead
faith will be brought to Life by Christ, the only one who can save you. I pray
that God will be glorified.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">God is good and worthy
of my praise. I thank God daily for this cancer. I pray for Him to use me up
for His name’s sake and when He is done, to take me Home. I pray that that day
comes quickly.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In Christ alone,</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Husband, Father, Friend
and Follower of Christ, Saved by His Matchless Grace and Forgiveness by His
Death on a Cross for a Wretched Sinner as I.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-22106652662090695772014-12-18T18:44:00.000-06:002015-03-04T09:22:39.709-06:00The Gospel According to Joe: From Intended Evil to Eternal Good<h2 align="center">
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Joe's First Epistle</span></h2>
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I'll use aliases throughout this series to protect the privacy of the family.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1kac6v0McyTKlChPRtTCPUa7fIYVhmiTBz2IRCDDiUvejcbaDQMyZVOrlshBPAwYQzQt9qZQLRol6oSI7wMO2KQJ2oJSH5jhB-sjwtsjWD3lHoacuxkHg5xU64QxHDBI2ySsRYrhcZi7/s1600/Caduceus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1kac6v0McyTKlChPRtTCPUa7fIYVhmiTBz2IRCDDiUvejcbaDQMyZVOrlshBPAwYQzQt9qZQLRol6oSI7wMO2KQJ2oJSH5jhB-sjwtsjWD3lHoacuxkHg5xU64QxHDBI2ySsRYrhcZi7/s1600/Caduceus.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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"...you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good..." (Genesis 50:20, ESV)</h3>
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<em>Joe, a friend of mine, recently received devastating news that sent his life into a nosedive, one that affected the whole family. His son, a corporate lawyer, immediately took on his dad's role as CEO of the family business. Joe's wife Beth, a homeschooling mom, added the role of Joe's primary care-giver. </em><em> </em></div>
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<em> Joe and Beth have served in leadership for our church for many years. They also are active in various homeschool groups, so many folks stepped up to stand beside the family and help in diverse ways. We all sought to encourage them in any way we could.</em></div>
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<em> Then Joe began sending email messages. He, our brother who was experiencing his own private, pain-ridden hell, was at once sitting at the feet of Jesus and being tutored in extreme grace! Through his messages, he shared what the Saviour was teaching him.</em><em> I asked permission from Joe to share his messages, and he granted my request. May they bless your heart and life, Gentle Reader, as they have mine!</em></div>
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<em>*******</em></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Today is Wednesday, October 22. It's my birthday. I'm
56. Those who know me well know that birthdays are not important to me. I
rarely remember anyone's. I think I will remember this one as long as I
live...which brings me to my story. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Today we moved from our
6,000-feet-of-excess log home. It rests on a 50<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Sharon" datetime="2014-12-18T13:51"><span style="color: teal;">-</span></ins></span>acre parcel of
land that we have aptly named Utopia. We loved our home<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Sharon" datetime="2014-12-18T13:52"><span style="color: teal;">,</span></ins></span> but more than
that<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Sharon" datetime="2014-12-18T13:52"><span style="color: teal;">,</span></ins></span>
we loved the land and the freedom it afforded our family of now 12. It was our
dream home. The kind of home that you think of when having family reunions and
a gaggle of grand kids coming home to year after year. A place where they can
ride four wheelers, shoot guns, hunt, fish, ride tractors, swim, BBQ, explore,
creek-walk, get stuck, get hurt (a little), and relax. We sold it for reasons
only God fully knows to a wonderful and generous family that has already
blessed us in ways they may never know. Here's one example; they are allowing
Sunny, our golden Lab, to stay with them for up to a month as we make the
transition Who does that these days? Not me!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">So back to my story. We
turned over the house to the new owners at noon and then proceeded to Indy for
a follow-up appointment for my back surgery at 2 p.m. The back doctor referred
me to a specialist to tell me about the results of the two biopsies they did on
my vertebrae. Beth and the two younger girls accompanied me while Stephen and Allie
went to a college soccer game with a bunch of friends. As we
rounded the corner to the hospital and I provided the necessary backseat
driving directions to my wife, we saw entrance, Number 4, that I was instructed
to enter. Both Beth and I were taken aback a little as we read the big sign
over the door: CANCER CENTER. It may as well have been in flashing neon lights!
Thankfully, the girls were oblivious to the sign as they were busy doing their
school work.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">At the reception desk, I
gave the name of the doctor I was to see. That’s when I learned she was an
oncologist. A very competent lady and pleasant. She met with Beth and me to
inform us that I have multiple myeloma which is bone marrow cancer. Bone marrow
cancer is a little hard to get your mind around. It permeates the body and can
show up anywhere and is best treated by bone marrow transplants combined with
chemo and radiation therapies. It is incurable. Without treatment, she said, I
had a year or less. Radical treatment could extend my life expectancy by two
plus years. She and my son (Tyler the doctor) are saying there are some good
reasons to pursue treatment. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">Me? Not so much. But I
have promised my wife and son to remain open to consider. I am interested in
managing the pain but not so much in extending my life. This world is not my
home and I look forward with great anticipation to meeting my Savior, Christ
Jesus. Don't get me wrong. There are many things I would like to see
accomplished; mainly growing old with my wife, seeing all my children grown and
sharing the Gospel with family and friends. I will continue for as long as God
allows. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">On Monday October 27, I
have a radiology appointment to discuss treatment, a full body skeletal scan, a
bone marrow biopsy procedure, and a bunch of lab work. This will help the doctor
determine the stage I am in and the recommended treatment options. I have an
appointment on October 31 to review all of those results with the oncologist.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">So, I pray for you. That
the salvation, peace, and understanding that only the Word of God and Christ
can provide will come upon you and that you, too, will experience the joy and
confidence in Christ that I have. I rejoice in this: that God chose to save me
before the foundations of the Earth even though I was His enemy. Amazing!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"></span><span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;">In Christ Alone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"> Joe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 12pt; mso-themecolor: text1; mso-themetint: 242;"> Husband, father, friend and follower of Christ, saved
by His matchless forgiveness and grace by His death on the cross for a wretched
sinner such as I. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-63494173215439509902014-12-16T12:21:00.003-06:002014-12-16T12:21:37.293-06:00Christmas Reflections 10: More Than 1,000 Words ~ The Art of Ron DiCianni<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKI6eZlZFSNdqT1fMMBgRF3Rai2YE_3c7b_hwjmoi0af-pWD8Czjaz0ed-NeIU45p4sZ5_j7hxijG6V5SPD7tXWvPJwHEWRuBvE_YpEKR99oUupN6jzrhd1PWDhtT2BM83hziQqAfLt0z/s1600/DiCianni_Simeons+Moment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKI6eZlZFSNdqT1fMMBgRF3Rai2YE_3c7b_hwjmoi0af-pWD8Czjaz0ed-NeIU45p4sZ5_j7hxijG6V5SPD7tXWvPJwHEWRuBvE_YpEKR99oUupN6jzrhd1PWDhtT2BM83hziQqAfLt0z/s1600/DiCianni_Simeons+Moment.jpg" height="400" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>"Simeon's Moment" by American artist Ron DiCianni</em><br />
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<em>"It is my sincere hope that my paintings<br /> will result in your encouragement and<br /> knowledge of God.<br /><br /> "What you will be seeing is the fruit of<br /> decades of effort in honing my craft. I am<br /> honored and continually amazed that God<br /> uses these efforts in the body of Christ. I<br /> feel it's what I was born to do.<br /><br /> "I realize that any painting can make you<br /> look. I'm hoping that mine will help you<br /> see." ~</em>Ron DiCianni</div>
You've probably seen the art of Ron DiCianni (pronounced <em>dee cee AH nee</em>) many times before. Early on in his career he illustrated for some major corporations, and he was the official artist for the United States Olympic Committee for the Moscow Olympic Games. His work also graced the covers of <em>This Present Darkness </em>and <em>Piercing the Darkness</em>, both authored by<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1581345283/?tag=googhydr-20&hvadid=45345512117&hvpos=1t1&hvexid=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=8714605283872874615&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=b&hvdev=c&ref=pd_sl_7dtrt4agug_b"> <span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Frank E. Peretti</strong></span></a>. Though I read both of these books and appreciated the cover art, which initially drew me to the books (yes, you can tell much about a book by its cover), I didn't know who the illustrator was. I awakened to DiCianni's wonderful work through Max Lucado's and Joni Eareckson Tada's Christian <em>Tell Me </em>storybooks. Of course, they're in my library. I'm a storyteller!<br />
As I listened to <em>Morning Edition </em>on NPR this morning, they praised the work of an artist whose paintings look like photographs. I understand the skill required to produce such a work, but I have to ask myself why. Why would one want his canvas to look like a photo? Just take a picture. Let the artistic eye of the photographer show through the shot's composition, angle, juxtaposition of light and shadow, and darkroom/Photoshop expertise. Nonetheless, that artist's work is highly acclaimed, and that's fine, but not my preference.<br />
I prefer the complexity, the subtextual elements in a work by DiCianni. I cannot glance at one of his paintings and move on to the next. My eyes probe every square inch, seeking what is not easily seen. <br />
Case in point: the image above. <em>Simeon's Moment. </em>Remember Simeon? You can read about him <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+2%3A25-35&version=ESV">here</a>. He'd served the Lord in the Temple his whole life and awaited the fulfillment of the coming of the Christ. Carefully consider DiCianni's painting. Notice the enraptured look on Simeon's face. Do you see the tear. The emotion the artist expressed with that one tear would take paragraphs for a writer to describe. Here is a close-up:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>Detail of DiCianni's </em>Simeon's Moment<br />
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Can you hear the emotion-filled worship erupting from the depths of Simeon's soul as he cradles the Creator of the universe to his bosom. Is the tear one of joy? Is it one of thankfulness to our merciful Father? Or is it inspired by a terrible vision of that Child as a Man suffering the indignation of the Cross for Simeon's own sins and those of a wretched, sinful world? </div>
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Jesus! The Light pierced the darkness of this world two millennia ago. Look again at the detail. DiCianni identifies the infant in Simeon's arms as that Light with the four-pointed star coming from the child. See it? The cross-shaped star?</div>
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And of course you caught the underlying depiction of the world, signifying that the Babe came not only to the Jews but to all the world's people, for "all have sinned and fallen short of God's holy standard" and are in need of a Saviour!</div>
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An interviewer asked DiCianni if he deliberately hid symbolic elements in his paintings. Here is his response:</div>
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<em>"I have never set out to hide anything in my<br /> work. Rather, there are elements of secondary<br /> and tertiary importance to the central theme<br /> represented in my work.<br /><br /> "In a painting we lessen the importance of an<br /> element by changing its size, color, or rendering.<br /> The lesser elements become slightly obscure<br /> at that point. When a person 'discovers' them<br /> later, it can seem that the element was hidden.<br /><br /> "This is why it is very important to study<br /> these paintings. When you think you have the<br /> overall theme — after you 'get it' — it can be<br /> exciting to discover related messages that<br /> will expand your appreciation for the things of God."</em></div>
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I love all of DiCianni's work that I've seen, but <em>Simeon's Moment </em>is definitely a favorite. What's yours?<br />
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<strong>Question: Gentle Reader, do you see other significant, subtle elements in <em>Simeon's Moment</em>?</strong><br />
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<img alt="" src="http://www.christcenteredmall.com/stores/art/dicianni/spacer.gif" height="219" width="1" /><em></em>Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2147347897988841306.post-78216183509862940652014-12-15T13:36:00.000-06:002014-12-15T13:36:04.605-06:00Christmas Reflections 9: Nylon Stockings for Lunch<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
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<span style="color: black;">I always knew that Santa Claus was a wonderful fantasy. Mama never took me to sit on his lap, at least not that I can recall. Perhaps she wanted to protect me from the disappointment of a nearly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">giftless</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">giftless</span>," because I usually got something practical--a new pair of oxfords from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Schiff's</span> Shoes, a cozy flannel nightgown from Grant's, or a blouse from Kresge's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dimestore</span>. It was never anything frivolous such as a transistor radio from Sears'. Christmas morning. I say "nearly </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">My gifts to Mama were handmade in the early years. After all, one would have to collect a ton of empty bottles to get anything really nice. I was in junior high when I decided that she deserved something better than a potholder woven on a borrowed toy loom or a boot-scraper crafted from pop bottle lids nailed to a small square of plywood. (After all, we lived in the heart of downtown New Castle, Indiana, so we seldom had mud on our shoes, and any snow that might be on them would melt away long before we had trudged up the three flights of stairs to our apartment.) But what could I get her, and how could I pay for it?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I began to walk the aisles of the stores looking for just the right present. One day I decided to go into Mary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Woodbury's</span>, the finest ladies' apparel shop in town. How brazen of me to even walk through the heavy brass and plate-glass door! The floor was carpeted in some plush stuff. My oxfords sank in up to the laces. Soft music played in the background. An intoxicating fragrance filled the air. I inhaled deeply, trying my best to be quiet about it. It would never do to sniff loudly in Mary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Woodbury's</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I couldn't stand there and take root in the rug, so I forced myself forward to the perfume counter. Mama liked perfume, though I'd never known her to wear anything but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Coty's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">L'Oreal</span>, which was sold at the corner drugstore.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"May I help you?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I turned to see a well-dressed sales clerk with meticulously coiffed hair. At least, I assumed she was a sales clerk. Could it be Mary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Woodbury</span> herself? Suddenly I felt like a ragamuffin who had wandered in off the street . . .which was exactly what I was.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"I . . .<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">uhm</span> . . ." Quickly, I picked up one of the perfume bottles. "Can you please tell me how much this is?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"Yes, miss. That would be eight dollars." I gulped and hoped she hadn't heard. "Shall I wrap it for you?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"Uh . . .no, thank you. I think I'll keep looking."</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Next to the perfume was the hosiery counter. I walked over to take a look. The clerk stayed right with me. She showed me a pair of Van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Raalte</span> nylons that came in a box with tissue paper. How elegant! How perfect for Mama! And they were . . .possible . . .if I really saved. A mere two dollars and ninety-nine cents.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The junior high had no cafeteria, so Mama gave me a quarter everyday for lunch at one of the numerous hamburger joints within walking distance of the school. Doug's, with it's killer hamburgers and steaming chili, was my favorite. Both the burgers and the chili were fifteen cents apiece. During this parsimonious time, I got one or the other and drank water. Thus I was able to stash a dime per day for the Van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Raaltes</span>. As Christmas drew closer, I skipped lunch all together. The thought of Mama's getting all dressed up to go somewhere, slipping on those luxurious stockings, and asking me to fasten the clasp of her double-strand graduated pearls (a remnant of more prosperous years) helped me forget my growling stomach.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Two days before Christmas, I walked into Mary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Woodbury's</span> and up to the hosiery counter with cash in hand. The same clerk came up to me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"I would like one pair of the Van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Raalte</span> hose, size 9, in taupe, please."</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I could have sworn the clerk was pinching back a smile, but she may have just stifled a burp. "Would you like that gift-wrapped, miss?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I stood on tiptoe and leaned over the counter so that only she could hear me. "Is that extra?"</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"No, miss."</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">"Then, yes, please."</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">On Christmas morning, Mama ever so delicately loosened the tape of the silver-wrapped Van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Raalte</span> box, pausing only to notice the embossed Mary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Woodbury's</span> sticker near the bow. Memories of those afternoon hunger pangs vanished in the light of her smile. It was absolutely delicious.</span></div>
Sharon Kirk Cliftonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10218763567211993842noreply@blogger.com0