tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27029641535294763232024-03-13T17:22:55.466-04:00A Servant's Heart, Looking for the TruthInspiration and Challenge are two words that I would use to describe the purpose of my blog. I want to bring inspiration to people who may seem lost or lonely. I want to challenge the followers of Jesus Christ to keep their hearts open to Gods searching presence.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.comBlogger437125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-55884562464855677152023-09-11T22:42:00.000-04:002023-09-11T22:42:46.883-04:00Influence your WorldEvery person has a certain amount of influence in their world. <strong><a href="http://www.teddgalloway.com/">Christians Can Influence Their World</a></strong> in Five Ways.<strong> </strong>First off this is not an exhaustive list of how we can influence the world for Christ. This is however a useful and thought provoking idea that can help us maximize our influence.<br />
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1. <strong>Pray- </strong>Seems obvious doesn't it. Every Christian prays, right? I'm not talking about the prayers that we have memorized or the prayers found in our Sunday bulletin. I'm talking about having genuine conversations with God. Conversations mean speaking and listening. If we want to influence our world we will start having blunt and honest conversations with our Father who loves us. Do you have children that are far from God and living in destructive environments. Cry out to God for their rescue. Plead with God for their return to His safety. Mean business with God because Satan means business with your loved one.<br />
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Pray for yourself. That is not being selfish. That is being smart. Pray for wisdom. Pray that God will enlighten your mind and spirit and you will know how to answer the questions that people have. The world around us is sick and tired of our worn out church talk. Cliches like, pray about it, Jesus knows, Your child is an angel in heaven, God must have needed little... That might be fine in church but hurting and wounded people need more than platitudes.<br />
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Ask God Almighty to fill your heart and mind with words that refresh the weary world around you.<br />
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2. <strong>Live for your appointed purpose- </strong>God has gifted every Christian to accomplish His purposes. When each of us embraced the truth of Christ and His sacrificial death, resurrection and ascension we became new creatures quickened by His Spirit and made heirs with Christ. He empowered each of us with at least one spiritual gift. It is our responsibility to read scripture that reveals what these gifts are and then to discern our own. Once we understand our gift than that is a part of our appointed purpose in life.<br />
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I knew that I was gifted in preaching because God's presence confirmed it and other members of the body of Christ have confirmed it as well. It has however taken me longer to understand the deeper meaning of my appointed purpose. Today I know that my appointed purpose is not only behind the sacred desk, the pulpit, but behind the keyboard as well. My gift is in the communication of the message of Christ and His bringing all of creation into wholeness. The time is coming when I will no longer be able to stand and preach the beauties of Christ. But, I will have the appointed responsibility of writing and teaching those as long as I have breath.<br />
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You must find your appointed purpose and live for it and eventually die doing it.<br />
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3. <strong>Enjoy Living- </strong>I have known Christians that are allergic to fun and enjoyment. It is as if every morning they get up and eat lemons and stub their big toe on purpose. Theirs is a life of misery and endless sacrifice. Every Church has at least one person like this. My second church appointment had such a lemon eater. I came to the point of bargaining with God. I wanted to know if her mansion was done yet, and if not could the builders please hurry.<br />
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God has given us a beautiful and fantastic world to live in. Some need to open their eyes to the wonder of children playing in the park. The absolute joy of watching little children play with a puppy dog. Yes, there is evil in the world, but, there is a whole lot of love and happiness. Jesus told us that we would have abundant life and joy in this world. It is time to embrace the incoming waves from the lake and let pure clean water smack you in the face.<br />
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Find what gives you joy, discover what puts a grin on your face. Share laughter, it is contagious.<br />
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4. <strong>Open the Vault of Your Soul- </strong>When God transforms a person a treasure beyond any price is placed in the soul. It is the Love of God. God Himself witnesses to our spirit that He loves us and has accepted us into His eternal family. Such a gift must not be hidden in the heart. That truth must be allowed to have expression. The salvation of the soul should cause us to have a smile on our face and compassion in our heart. I'm not saying that everyday we walk around with some phony-bologna smile. But we can be genuine in sharing the love that God has placed in our hearts.<br />
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There are people all around us that are hurting and in need of compassion and understanding. The love of God in our hearts is the healing balm that many need. Many people that come across our path everyday have burdens that cripple them, weigh them down, put them into depression or despair. The heart filled with the love of God can be sensitive and discern when a friend needs to talk, a co-worker needs prayer, a family member struggles with their faith.<br />
Decide to open your heart, be vulnerable, genuine, compassionate, understanding and LOVE.<br />
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5<strong>. Face your Fate- </strong>The bible is pretty plain in its message that all of us, unless the rapture comes first, are gonna die, buy the farm, push up roses, or daisies, or black eyed susies. What ever you want to call it, none of us are getting out of here alive. We are allowed a certain number of days and then it's over. What you do with your allotted minutes, hours, days, weeks, months will tell future generations a lot about you. How many years after you are gone will you just be a person that was a part of the family? Three or four generations at the most and then nobody will remember you. That is, unless you pass on to others the eternal gifts that were given to you.<br />
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I believe that the value of oral tradition is all but lost. We do not pass on the great stories of our families and heritage. What a gift it would be to families if we took the time to write about our families and our faith journey. Thousands upon thousands of families would be able to hold the precious history of saints gone and their faith in Christ. Do something that will have an impact for generations to come. Write a family book. Put together a photo album with historical facts that can be held and touched.<br />
You, my friend, are only gonna live here once. Do something with your life.<br />
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Tedd Galloway is the author of #2Amazon best seller, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God and his novel, Encounter at River's Edge.<br />
His website is <a href="http://www.teddgalloway.com/">www.teddgalloway.com</a>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-52628201452633934732022-06-07T15:32:00.000-04:002022-06-07T15:32:09.908-04:00Look into your Mirror<p> It takes courage to take spiritual inventory. Looking in the mirror that reflects an accurate picture of how you are living in light of God's truth can be tough. God wants you to know how you are doing. Remember that He will never reject you or cast you aside. His truth is meant to help and encourage us.</p><br />After we have been brave enough to admit and confront the spiritual hindrances that keep us from displaying transformational love, we must look to the source of that love. As the issues that impede us are spiritual they must be dealt with in the spiritual realm. Confession and repentance are not welcome nor are they common practices in the life of many churches today. But, they are serious matters that must be dealt with in the manner God sets forth. The writer of Chronicles states it pretty plainly, "If my people, who are called by my name, shall humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." So then, it is plain that God wants to heal His people and His land, transforming society.<br /><br />In this time of Covid many people are afraid. They are afraid for their life and the lives of their loved ones. Their fear can certainly lead to insecurity. We fear the unknown and what might be lurking behind the proverbial corner. The questions arise. Does God really care? Does God know what is going on? Our souls must be able to resound with, yes He knows, yes He cares.<br /><br />Added to this time of illness and questioning is the madness and violence overtaking the country. Violence has led to the killing of innocent people and those who took an oath to protect us. Lies have turned to truth and foundational truth has been spit upon.<br /><br />One might ask if we are reaping what we have sown. We have certainly allowed the moral fabric that held us together to be weakened and shredded. Allowing 60 million infants to be sacrificed on the altar of liberal politics and thought has certainly had an impact upon the Almighty and how favorable He looks upon us.<br /><br />Repenting and seeking forgiveness is the soul cleansing priority of each follower of Christ. As we draw close to Him, He will always draw close to us. When Moses came down from the mountain after meeting with God he was transformed and glowing. People know when a follower of Christ is spending time with his God, it is evident, it shows in their actions, words, and essence. Communion with God magnetizes the one communing, drawing people, as the Holy Spirit has been leading the one in need.<br /><br />Open yourself to the transforming movement of God, draw close to Him in prayer, confession, praise, and beg Him to use you as a source of transforming love. Do not fret about how God will do it, or what might happen, He will empower you to shine and He will bring people across your path that are hungry and thirsty for the real experience with God through Jesus Christ. An old chorus comes to mind, the author escapes me. "Swing wide the door of your heart to the King of Kings, bid Him enter for wonderful peace He brings. He will shelter you under His outstretched wings. Swing wide the door of your heart to the King of Kings."<br /><br />Jesus told us that we would be the light of the world, a city set on a hill. It will not be our dogma, doctrine, creeds, hymns, nor our knowledge of God that will transform people. It always has been and will continue to be, followers of Christ who have a personal experience with Transforming Love.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-7003914672644860302022-05-31T12:44:00.000-04:002022-05-31T12:44:26.224-04:00The Unquenchable Yearn<p>What ever possesses a man to leave everything behind and head into the darkness of the unknown? It might be the spirit of adventure. It might be the spirit of escape. And, it might be the spirit of freedom. That is alright if you are single. But, what if you are part of a family, that changes the consequences. The cost rises with every person you include in the venture.</p><br />The stories of people escaping from East Berlin, remember that time, always gripped my heart. Some fantastic escapes took place by men and women and entire families. Ideas from hot air balloons, zip lines, to extensive tunnels, were used by very brave men and women. The images of those who died trying to escape must have been ever before them. Yet, they kept trying to escape.<br /><br />Oppression is an evil power that has given millions of people the inner desire and drive to be free. There is some God-given inner voice that whispers to the soul of mankind, "I want to be free, I need to be free, I must be the one who decides my destiny." That voice, the desire to be free, has indeed brought that very freedom to millions across the earth.<br /><br />I believe it was that voice that filled the hearts of the earliest settlers in this land. Many left their homeland yearning for religious freedom. Their conscious could never give in to the dictates of a government trying to regulate the voice of God within their heart. In their desire to worship God according to their own spirit they were willing to pay a very high price. Weeks and months on the high seas is taxing to the very hardiest of men. The families that took such voyages were brave to the extreme. Yet, they would never confess to bravery.<br /><br />The dream of a land of freedom brought thousands upon thousand to our shores. Almost every person in this great land would find their roots in the family tree of those brave souls. I am aware of the countless who were brought here, not of their own accord. Indentured servants and slaves by the thousands were brought here, to the land of freedom. With free men and women all around them their hearts must have yearned all the more to taste the sweetness of broken chains and writs of servitude torn in half.<br /><br />Our forefathers used a couple of phrases that I want to mention. The first being this land was the, Second Israel. A land of men and women who were seeking the heart of God and desiring to build a land that would honor him. The second phrase being, A Great Experiment in Self Government. They knew that it was indeed an experiment and that many things could go wrong and some things would go wrong.<br /><br />The long journey across the treacherous and deadly Atlantic did not allow for the spirit of ease, nor complacency. Our journey today, I'm afraid, is filled with both evils.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-49882226569553371792021-12-22T10:58:00.000-05:002021-12-22T10:58:37.373-05:00Silence and the Savior<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Silence
and the Savior<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Absolute silence- planets spin within solar systems
and solar systems are engulfed in the endless miles of the universe, and not a
sound can be detected. Far beyond the first light, the first twinkle of the
first star, the movement of wings is felt as celestial air is stirred. Heavenly
beings keep their place as wings perform their ordained dance. They sing in a
language unknown and unheard, “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts.” Their
song brings even greater brilliance to stars and the endless expanse of space.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In a dimension only visible to Cherubim, Seraphim,
and their Creator, a holy and mysterious convocation is taking place. Absolute
majesty, power, and authority surround the Only Begotten, the Creator of all
that is, and can be, the Christ of God. The conversation is not understood by
the created hosts that surround them. Their holy communion lasts for eons, yet
is over in an instant. Eternity is not touched by time or space.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In an instant the movements of powerful and majestic
wings give sign that Gabriel is on the move. The untold numbers of ministering spirits
follow every command given by Gabriel. For they know he speaks and moves for
the Creator. In an instant he travels from the far end of the universe to a
small hamlet outside the holy city. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As the smoke of incense rises from the temple
Gabriel finds the one to receive his message. He is an old man, well advanced
in years and experience. Yet, one experience has escaped his heart, the joy of
a man-child. The messenger from God speaks and the old man is struck dumb. In
an instant Gabriel is back in the presence of his Creator. As he bows and
covers his face with his wings he announces that his task is done. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the timing of man weeks pass, in the heavenly
realms it is but fleeting seconds. Again the powerful Gabriel moves without
effort to the planet of his prior visit. Silently he enters into the presence of
a young maid, a virgin favored by the Creator. His presence and his message are
startling and the holy messenger reminds the virgin that nothing is impossible
with God. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His bowed head announce to the Father and Son that
the message has been delivered. The powerful angel is not sure that any other
being understood the message that just moved from the heart of the Father to
His Son. As if signaled from the deepest ends of the universe a vast array of
Cherubim and Seraphim gather around Gabriel. In perfect rhythm of wing and
voice the servants of the Most High sing, “Holy is the Lord of Hosts, Holy is
the Father and Holy is the Christ.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the midst of fluttering wing and song, a message
was passing from Father to Son. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a
burst of light, blinding even to the hosts of God, the Christ was gone.
Gabriel, moved by the blinding light knew instantly the message he was to give.
In a voice unknown to the world he announced to the gathering, “The Christ of
God is Immanuel, He will become the overcoming Lamb.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Once more Gabriel moves from timelessness to
time-bound earth. This time he appears to men working on the hillsides tending
sheep. His appearance brings the men to near death. He speaks and his words
bring news of hope and peace. As his words end the gathering around him join in
chorus, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men, with whom
He is well pleased.” As the singing hosts of heaven depart with Gabriel the men
of the earth and caretakers of sheep walk to Bethlehem.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-18102270491043253672021-10-28T12:13:00.000-04:002021-10-28T12:13:17.519-04:00Living Among the Pines<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 30px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">The Pine Tree</h3><div class="post-header" style="background-color: #441500; color: #aa9988; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.88px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-2103663689017872014" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px; line-height: 1.5; position: relative; width: 488px;"><div align="center">Rain <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">drops</span> hang off long slender needles, made brilliant green by droplets no longer clinging to cloud.</div><div align="center">The earth beneath the living statues is soft and covered in a blanket of brown needles.</div><div align="center">Thousands, millions, the blanket has no pattern to the eye, to the giver they tell of history, of storms and snow, of wind and sun, passing days and months, years and generations.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">The scent that rises from the moist blanket mingles with living needles and bark. The fragrance is beyond description but not experience.</div><div align="center">Breathe deeply and fill your soul with peace and tranquility as almost blinding rays of sunlight reach you through branch, limb and needle.</div><div align="center">Warmth escapes from hidden rooms beneath the blanket as the sun heats the earth.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">The blanket beckons your wearied body, go ahead, multitudes of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">creatures</span> have already felt the comfort.</div><div align="center">The blanket is thick and soft, your hand presses down and the blanket gives to your desire.</div><div align="center">Lay back and sense the blanket give and move to your weariness.</div><div align="center">The scent, the warmth, the moisture, they approach and beckon to lay with you.</div><div align="center">Soon <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">you</span> are wrapped in comfort that fills your very soul, yea, every cell.</div><div align="center">From your repose, looking up, the living statues reach into and then become part of the heavens.</div><div align="center">Sleep overtakes and you dream of heaven, a land of pines, smells, and sweet comfort.</div></div>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-87396183911947090082021-09-10T12:49:00.000-04:002021-09-10T12:49:08.898-04:00The Voice From the Heavens<p> </p><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></p><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">The air brushed past my cheek like a feather, </span></div><div align="center">ever so slightly touching my skin.</div><div align="center">No noise, just movement.</div><div align="center">Again it moved across my face, my senses heightened, </div><div align="center">ready to discern the presence.</div><div align="center">Now stillness, nothing.</div><div align="center">Stillness for such a long time, still nothing.</div><div align="center">Perhaps it never was, twas my wish, my dream, my hope.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Closed eyes, closed out world, listen, sense.</div><div align="center">Lids shut, the air moves again past my face.</div><div align="center">A glow, faint, sensed through closed eyes, then growing brighter.</div><div align="center">Eyes still closed, every cell, every sense in tune and anticipation.</div><div align="center">The glow, now as bright as the sun, fills me.</div><div align="center">The air moves, growing stronger as it begins to push against me.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">A noise, like the movement of wings comes near.</div><div align="center">Now with each sound of movement comes the rush of air.</div><div align="center">And then the Voice, a voice like thunder in the mountains.</div><div align="center">The words, " Behold the dwelling place of God is with men."</div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;">The Seraphim speaks and I tremble.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p><br /></p>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-73492142357803449662021-04-01T12:43:00.002-04:002021-04-01T12:43:22.137-04:00Is the cross an oxymoron ?<p> <span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">These days, leading to Good Friday and Easter, the old hymn, "The Old Rugged Cross", is a favorite among congregations. And, I often wonder if we really think about the words of the hymns we sing. I believe that the cross is a paradox. I mean, there is a truth that is either veiled, or easily passed over. We lift our voices and sing, "I will cherish the old rugged cross", "I will cling to the old rugged cross." Do we really mean, cling to the old rugged cross? What about, cherish, do we really, cherish?</span></p><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">There are few objects that I cherish. My girls gave me a carved stone elephant from Zimbabwe, as a birthday present. I cherish that because of my girls. It is something I hold close and it is very personal. A family heirloom, a fine piece of jewelry, these are items people might cherish. To cherish is to hold close, to gaze upon, understand its value and worth, not necessarily monetary worth. To cherish the cross is to get close and personal. Experiencing the value of the cross means you have come close. Close enough to become appalled at the site, the site of blood, discarded clothing and lives.</span><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">I used to find it repulsive thinking about clinging to the cross. What person today would want to place their hands, or worse, their arms and chest, against a post used to execute human beings. The upright of the executioners tool was used over and over until it rotted. The blood of countless bodies would have run down the post and become one with the fibers of the wood. To even think of clinging to such a horrific object should be repulsive. Now, add that our faith, our belief in Christ, centers on the cross. Some would think we are rather barbaric.</span><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">If you will come close to the cross with me, if you will be open and vulnerable, you will be able to sing the hymn with honesty and an experiential truth. In order to do that we must accept the horror and humiliation of the execution. Denial will cut short the transformation. Jesus Christ, the Begotten of the Father, the Second Person in the Trinity, the Word and character of God in the flesh, was executed at a time and place recorded in history. His death was real and it was his sacrifice for the sin of mankind. Again, look past the scene and believe that his death was for you.</span><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">As you are close to the cross, you must listen to the words of Jesus. He speaks words of forgiveness for his executioners. He speaks words of comfort to his mother and a dear friend. A man, hanging by his side hears words of comfort and life as his earthly life slips away. Listen, as he speaks with parched dry lips for a drink. In his final minutes he cries to his father during his darkest hour, life spent, body broken, blood out poured, he utters his final words and dies.</span><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><br style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;" /><span style="background-color: #441500; color: #ffeedd; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">Standing close, the scene of the execution and the words spoken begin to transform sensitive and contrite hearts. The truth of his sacrifice becomes your truth, the truth of redemption's cost becomes your truth. Your spirit begins to understand that what took place was for you. Soon, the scene of death and horror seems to fade and peace moves in your heart. With the peace comes new vision, a new eyesight that now looks at the cross and rejoices in the beauty.</span>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-8341111682424821992020-10-27T15:58:00.000-04:002020-10-27T15:58:05.122-04:00A Sophisticated Man<p> <span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a <a href="http://aservantsheartministry.blogspot.com/">sophisticated man</a>. Every morning his mirror smiles at him. His white hair and beard are perfectly </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; line-height: 18.4px;">coiffed</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">. Each hair is examined, snipped, combed, and smiled upon. His custom tailored white shirt fits as demanded and every onyx button is stitched securely in place. The lime and blue woven iridescent silk tie from Italy is the perfect accompaniment to shirt and suit. </span></p><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. His library is the envy of friends. The patina on the one hundred fifty year old wood is an intoxicant to the eye. Soft light is cast by Tiffany lamps and solid brass wall sconces. His books line one wall. He looks upon them often and smiles. His face instantly reacts as his eyes fall upon his first editions of Hawthorne and Webster. The smile, ignited by the gaze, reminds him of his status and lucrative mind. The great works of literature speak softly to visitors that here lives a sophisticated man.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. His leather chair is one of the finest. Hand crafted and covered in Romanza Leather, it is exquisite in every detail. The brass buttons at the top of each arm bear the marks of his fingers over long years. The trained eye can see the faint color change in the leather where his elbows have rested as he enjoyed his pipe and brandy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. To the left of his chair, his Gillow’s Pembroke Table is within easy reach. His pipe and pouch rest within an Ebony bowl, placed exactly at the far left end of the table, though still in reach. The </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">decanter of Courvoisier brandy rests upon its 16</span><sup style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> century silver server. The snifter sits next to the decanter, with her opening covered with appropriate sized linen. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. But, every morning his mirror is deceived. The visage of the perfectly groomed man fails to reveal his <a href="http://www.teddgalloway.com/">uninhabited soul</a> and empty heart. He rests within the safety and luxury of the finest leather on his chair. His lips enjoy his fine brandy. The scent of expensive pipe tobacco lingers long. At the setting of the sun he closes himself shut within the safety of the beauty of wood, leather, brandy and tobacco. The soft leather surrounds him and the curling tobacco smoke hides the solitary tear in his right eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. The warmth of the pipe bowl comforts the fingers of his right hand. With the warmth of his brandy still smooth on his lips he pulls on the brass knob of his exquisite Pembroke table. With his fine tobacco smoke curling upwards towards the hammered tin ceiling the manicured fingers of his left hand react to the cold stainless steel barrel. The pendulum from the Windsor Cherry floor clock declare the passing of seconds as the manicured fingers from the sophisticated man find and rest upon the cold steel.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He Was a Sophisticated Man.</span></div>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-25738168475606491022020-10-19T13:57:00.001-04:002020-10-19T13:57:26.160-04:00The Old Piano<p> The old upright piano seems nestled, she wouldn't say it that way, in the debris on the side of the village street. Her top and keyboard were covered in dust and soot from diesel engines. Missing cobblestones attempt to embarrass her as one of her legs is tipping towards the rubble at her feet.</p><br />The dust and dirt on her top looks streaked as though tears ran down the angled top. Her many fingers, once bright and clean, now covered in dust try to hide the missing ivory caps on five of her fingers. Fingers that could sense the spirit of the musician even before his long and excellently manicured fingers touched hers, now they are silent.<br /><br />The genius of Mozart and Bach, Chopin and Beethoven had given life to her beauty of wood and wire. The beauty and flow of the wood fibers would come alive, like the breath of divinity <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">giving</span> life to wood that yielded itself to the saw many years before. Now in her humiliation she gives up this life, like so many strewn around her. Will anyone mourn her passing?<br /><br />This piece was the result of a photograph from WWII taken from a French village.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-5456377679943160942020-09-29T13:41:00.000-04:002020-09-29T13:41:41.745-04:00Does it Really Matter?<p> Does it really matter? Our<a href="www.teddgalloway.com" target="_blank"> federal election</a> is just five weeks away. We will either elect a new president or re-elect our current one. But, does it really matter who gets elected? Aren't all politicians just puppets who sing and dance at the whims of big business and global powers? </p><p>How you answer the above questions might tell quite a bit about your attitude towards government and ours in particular. It might also indicate how you view voting. I have vivid memories of the first free elections that were to take place in Iraq. Never mind the politics. Focus on the Iraqi people. People walked, rode bicycles, drove old rickety cars, just to get to a polling station, stand in the oppressive heat, and cast their ballot. Once they voted they dipped their forefinger into blue ink.</p><p>Old men and women, looking worn out from war and death, smiled for the camera and held up their ink stained finger. Their vote was important and they held the conviction that it mattered. They faced the rumors of attacks being planned on the voters and in every town where voting was to take place. Facing violence was more important than not voting.</p><p>Their choices were important to them. Our choices as we enter the election time and the voting booth are critical this year. I'm going to be right upfront here. I did not like our current president. During the primary I voted for a different person and was saddened that he did not win. In retrospect he probably would have lost to the challenger. My dislike for the president was based on quite a few reasons that are personal.</p><p>Our current president has been a strong leader. He has tried to keep the promises he made while on the campaign trail. His is a staunch advocate for every unborn child. He has stated that every child is designed by God and is a gift. His conviction is obvious and not some pandering move to appease people.</p><p>Our president is unequivocal in his belief that America is an exceptional country and a beacon of freedom in the world. That ethos resounds within my soul. The price that men and women paid in their shed blood for the American Dream demands my respect and allegiance. My father and uncles fought the Nazi and Japanese powers to protect our liberty.</p><p>I hope and pray that you will vote on election day. You must vote your conscience. When you enter the voting booth remember the power that your vote has. I will remember the image of an Iraqi women draped in tattered material smiling an almost toothless grin, holding up her ink stained finger for the world to see. </p>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-32811938377085288122020-09-04T13:23:00.002-04:002023-09-11T17:35:02.127-04:00We are Living in Debasement<b>Debasement</b> - According to Merriam-Webster: To lower in status, esteem, quality, or character.<br />
The question to answer is: <b>Can a political platform be the tool that contributes to the debasement of individuals? </b><br />
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I believe that men and women are created in the image of God. That meaning, humans have the ability to sense God, to know God, and have communication with God. Mankind finds its greatest purposes when in communion with God. Our greatest pieces of music were those dedicated to God. The great works of art throughout the world are those dedicated to God. Hymns and poetry have touched the hearts and souls of millions. Man's greatest pursuit is in grasping the knowledge of God and thereby attaining His likeness.<br />
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People who have encountered God, in His grace, compassion, forgiveness, and mercy are filled with the desire to have His life reflected through theirs. We learn of His will and desire through Holy Scripture. We understand His priorities and purposes though His Word to mankind. We come to understand what He has ordained for His creation.<br />
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He has ordained the beginning of life as the moment egg and sperm join in conception. His word gives us very clear and vivid imagery of conception and growth. He has said, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you and ordained you." Again he said through His spokesman, "He knit me together in my mother's womb. I am fearfully and wonderfully made." For those who will plainly see there can be no doubt about God's stand on the gift of life.<br />
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God ordained the relationship that was to be the basis and foundation for society. In the Old Testament God ordained the coming together in sexual union of Adam and Eve. Their union was to be helpers and companions upon the earth and to bring forth children establishing the family. The family, for centuries, has been the bedrock of civilization. Jesus Christ blessed the union of a man and a woman. He went so far as to give us a command about the union, "What God has joined together let no man put asunder."<br />
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We are living in a society, and in a time, of great debasement. A political platform stands firmly on the destruction of the unwanted child. That destruction can be pronounced even seconds before a breath fills new lungs.Such a heinous act is law in many states.<br />
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That same platform has succeeded in redefining family, marriage, and gender. They have opened a Pandora's box that will lead to greater debauchery and confusion in the minds of millions. New calls for alternate marriages happen today. In a few states as many as thirty one gender identities have been labeled and codified.<br />
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Not every person within such a party agrees with the platform. A problem arises in the soul of the one who disagrees with such a platform, yet remains within the party. Is guilt by association a valid complaint?<br />
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Each of us will be held accountable for our convictions and actions. That includes me and you.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-5768328953569308422020-07-16T13:57:00.000-04:002020-07-16T13:57:19.451-04:00Spiritual CourageIt takes courage to take spiritual inventory. Looking in the mirror that reflects an accurate picture of how you are living in light of God's truth can be tough. God wants you to know how you are doing. Remember that He will never reject you or cast you aside. His truth is meant to help and encourage us.<br />
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After we have been brave enough to admit and confront the spiritual hindrances that keep us from displaying transformational love, we must look to the source of that love. As the issues that impede us are spiritual they must be dealt with in the spiritual realm. Confession and repentance are not welcome nor are they common practices in the life of many churches today. But, they are serious matters that must be dealt with in the manner God sets forth. The writer of Chronicles states it pretty plainly, "If my people, who are called by my name, shall humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." So then, it is plain that God wants to heal His people and His land, transforming society.<br />
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In this time of Covid many people are afraid. They are afraid for their life and the lives of their loved ones. Their fear can certainly lead to insecurity. We fear the unknown and what might be lurking behind the proverbial corner. The questions arise. Does God really care? Does God know what is going on? Our souls must be able to resound with, yes He knows, yes He cares.<br />
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Added to this time of illness and questioning is the madness and violence overtaking the country. Violence has led to the killing of innocent people and those who took an oath to protect us. Lies have turned to truth and foundational truth has been spit upon.<br />
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One might ask if we are reaping what we have sown. We have certainly allowed the moral fabric that held us together to be weakened and shredded. Allowing 60 million infants to be sacrificed on the altar of liberal politics and thought has certainly had an impact upon the Almighty and how favorable He looks upon us.<br />
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Repenting and seeking forgiveness is the soul cleansing priority of each follower of Christ. As we draw close to Him, He will always draw close to us. When Moses came down from the mountain after meeting with God he was transformed and glowing. People know when a follower of Christ is spending time with his God, it is evident, it shows in their actions, words, and essence. Communion with God magnetizes the one communing, drawing people, as the Holy Spirit has been leading the one in need.<br />
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Open yourself to the transforming movement of God, draw close to Him in prayer, confession, praise and begging Him to use you as a source of transforming love. Do not fret about how God will do it, or what might happen, He will empower you to shine and He will bring people across your path that are hungry and thirsty for the real experience with God through Jesus Christ. An old chorus comes to mind, the author escapes me. "Swing wide the door of your heart to the King of Kings, bid Him enter for wonderful peace He brings. He will shelter you under His outstretched wings. Swing wide the door of your heart to the King of Kings."<br />
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Jesus told us that we would be the light of the world, a city set on a hill. It will not be our dogma, doctrine, creeds, hymns, nor our knowledge of God that will transform people. It always has been and will continue to be, followers of Christ who have a personal experience with Transforming Love.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-18816153465238464722020-05-29T14:25:00.000-04:002020-05-29T14:25:12.674-04:00God Loves FreedomWhat ever possesses a man to leave everything behind and head into the darkness of the unknown? It might be the spirit of adventure. It might be the spirit of escape. And, it might be the spirit of freedom. That is alright if you are single. But, what if you are part of a family, that changes the consequences. The cost rises with every person you include in the venture.<br />
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The stories of people escaping from East Berlin, remember that time, always gripped my heart. Some fantastic escapes took place by men and women and entire families. Ideas from hot air balloons, zip lines, to extensive tunnels, were used by very brave men and women. The images of those who died trying to escape must have been ever before them. Yet, they kept trying to escape.<br />
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Oppression is an evil power that has given millions of people the inner desire and drive to be free. There is some God-given inner voice that whispers to the soul of mankind, "I want to be free, I need to be free, I must be the one who decides my destiny." That voice, the desire to be free, has indeed brought that very freedom to millions across the earth.<br />
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I believe it was that voice that filled the hearts of the earliest settlers in this land. Many left their homeland yearning for religious freedom. Their conscious could never give in to the dictates of a government trying to regulate the voice of God within their heart. In their desire to worship God according to their own spirit they were willing to pay a very high price. Weeks and months on the high seas is taxing to the very hardiest of men. The families that took such voyages were brave to the extreme. Yet, they would never confess to bravery.<br />
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The dream of a land of freedom brought thousands upon thousand to our shores. Almost every person in this great land would find their roots in the family tree of those brave souls. I am aware of the countless who were brought here, not of their own accord. Indentured servants and slaves by the thousands were brought here, to the land of freedom. With free men and women all around them their hearts must have yearned all the more to taste the sweetness of broken chains and writs of servitude torn in half.<br />
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Our forefathers used a couple of phrases that I want to mention. The first being this land was the, Second Israel. A land of men and women who were seeking the heart of God and desiring to build a land that would honor him. The second phrase being, A Great Experiment in Self Government. They knew that it was indeed an experiment and that many things could go wrong and some things would go wrong.<br />
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The long journey across the treacherous and deadly Atlantic did not allow for the spirit of ease, nor complacency. Our journey today, I'm afraid, is filled with both evils.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-68016664750848987072020-05-20T15:14:00.000-04:002020-05-20T15:14:18.571-04:00Painful Lessons<div align="center">
The old man is lying on a dirty old metal bed, the sheets unchanged for weeks.</div>
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He lies on his side with his knees drawn up, like he did 80 years ago.</div>
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The gray on his head is matched by the gray of his life.</div>
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He has been alone now for years, abandoned by all, left to his bed and bitterness.</div>
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Life is hard and that is exactly what he taught everybody around him.</div>
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His wife, stoop shouldered by the burdens and his words, crumbled under his care.</div>
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For years she tried to please him, her efforts only gained more scorn and weight on her shoulders.</div>
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Children now gone, haven't seen the old man in years.</div>
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His son, his namesake, pledged to never see or speak to him, never to enter the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">house</span> until it was funeral time.</div>
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A daughter, broken by suspicion and cursing, still lives broken, trying to make her daddy happy, five or six times since she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">saw</span> him last.</div>
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He knew they needed to know that the world is cruel and the best a man could do was to work all of his waking hours.</div>
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Home, he expected all to understand his life and be content that he put food on the table and a roof over their heads.</div>
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His words, never from a warm spirit, only the ones that needed to be said, the food is cold, the chores are undone, the wood needs <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">carrin</span>-in.</div>
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He expects respect and obedience, cares not to know what troubles live in his home.</div>
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All homes have trouble, life is hard and you just put up with it.</div>
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On his bed his hands are shriveling and gnarled, evidence of years of toil, toil he thought so unappreciated, work ignored, sweat unnoticed.</div>
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Unaware of the words of a mother to her children, words of work by their father, toil to provide food and shelter, long hard days spent on the end of a shovel.</div>
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He looks down at his hands and realizes his heart and soul is just as bent and gnarled as they are.</div>
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He mumbles in a voice no one can understand, words that seem garbled, "God what did I do wrong? Life is hard and they had to learn, the world is cruel and unloving. I did what was best."</div>
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A message begins to move deep in his soul, he feels uncomfortable, struggles on the hard rusted metal frame bed.</div>
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His stomach churns and his legs move to curb the pain.</div>
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A voice very clearly and quietly speaks it's message of unwelcome truth.</div>
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Today you are alone, alone on your bed, waiting to die, where are your children?</div>
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You are choking on the weeds you planted most of your life.</div>
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It is now time for you to realize what you have done, and live and die with it.</div>
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Even though you lie here abandoned and scared, yes I will be with you.</div>
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I will try and help them understand your life and keep them from your pain.<br />
If only you would have tried to reach me, tried a small amount of kindness.<br />
Soon all your pain and ugliness will end.</div>
T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-27358090444766984402020-05-11T15:53:00.000-04:002020-05-11T15:53:26.066-04:00The Folded FlagThere wasn't much that could stop the cold blast from the wind. There were only a few trees and an old clap board building in the cemetery and their flimsy resistance to the blast of cold was some distance from us. December in Riverview Michigan can be a mixed bag of weather conditions. Ice hockey on the local pond can be in full swing or the rain and mud can reign. That December day the ground was frozen and the wind spit balls of snow and ice.<br />
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My mother and father were seated on metal folding chairs close to the grave and the artificial turf that was trying in vain to disguise the hole. The honor guard stood at the rear of the hearse and the shinning black and chrome door swung open. The men from the funeral home were quiet, yet direct in their instructions to the honor guard. As the casket rolled from the hearse the men took their position, bearing their burden to the tent and the waiting grief stricken family members and the multitude of friends.<br />
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The flag seemed to wrap the casket like a cocoon, her colors were vivid and brilliant. I had never noticed the sharp contrast between red stripe and white stripe as I did that day. Each white star seemed to shine against the deep blue background. My family, and the others, were gathered in the presence of something sacred, dare I say, almost holy.<br />
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More words were said about the young Marine, my brother. Words about selflessness and willingness to serve were offered. The chaplain spoke words of ashes to ashes and dust to dust and then he prayed. As soon as he finished his prayer he stepped back from the casket and the honor guard stepped forward.<br />
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The flag seemed to float from the casket as expert hands moved in perfect unison and harmony and the rectangle was transformed into triangle with her stars shinning again. With fluid motions and grace the man in the dress blues bent low and placed the flag into the hands of my mother. He moved back to his position and plain and clear orders were given. The rifles cracked their salute to the Marine.<br />
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Before the wind could be heard again the mournful sound of the bugle announced, "Day is done". Most eyes were stinging as Taps brought tears to cold cheeks. The mournful sound from the bugle and the crack of the rifles is a combination seared into the soul of those who must experience it.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-21036636890178720142020-04-29T13:03:00.001-04:002020-04-30T12:54:10.864-04:00The Pine Tree<div align="center">
Rain <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">drops</span> hang off long slender needles, made brilliant green by droplets no longer clinging to cloud.</div>
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The earth beneath the living statues is soft and covered in a blanket of brown needles.</div>
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Thousands, millions, the blanket has no pattern to the eye, to the giver they tell of history, of storms and snow, of wind and sun, passing days and months, years and generations.</div>
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The scent that rises from the moist blanket mingles with living needles and bark. The fragrance is beyond description but not experience.</div>
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Breathe deeply and fill your soul with peace and tranquility as almost blinding rays of sunlight reach you through branch, limb and needle.</div>
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Warmth escapes from hidden rooms beneath the blanket as the sun heats the earth.</div>
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The blanket beckons your wearied body, go ahead, multitudes of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">creatures</span> have already felt the comfort.</div>
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The blanket is thick and soft, your hand presses down and the blanket gives to your desire.</div>
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Lay back and sense the blanket give and move to your weariness.</div>
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The scent, the warmth, the moisture, they approach and beckon to lay with you.</div>
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Soon <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">you</span> are wrapped in comfort that fills your very soul, yea, every cell.</div>
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From your repose, looking up, the living statues reach into and then become part of the heavens.</div>
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Sleep overtakes and you dream of heaven, a land of pines, smells, and sweet comfort.</div>
T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-17422411341566848822020-04-05T14:13:00.003-04:002020-04-05T14:13:40.958-04:00The Seed Falls<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>The Seed Falls</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A seed falls, earth embraces <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Time passes, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Seed lives, breaks free.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Sun, rain, time, generations pass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Branch, leaf, reach sunward,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Root goes deep, strength to keep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The axe falls, death comes,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The knife shapes, post becomes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Tide turns, world
spurns.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sinless Word
suspended,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Heavens gaze is
ended.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Great I AM is blind,<o:p></o:p></div>
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His Logos unable to
find.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Purity runs down, <o:p></o:p></div>
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Puddles on the
ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Scar of axe, knife,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bring end of strife.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Post with open pore,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Absorbs sin so sore.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Post, thought dead,
now lives,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Upward, Sonward, life
to give.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">tg/4/5/20</span></div>
<br />T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-56148066777843113822020-04-03T21:08:00.000-04:002020-04-03T21:08:23.344-04:00Brow to the Sky<div align="center" style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">
Feet Near The Earth, Crowned Brow To The Skies,</div>
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God's Arms Outstretched Mankind's Savior Dies.</div>
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On The Death Post and Beam,</div>
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His Precious Life Blood Does Gleam.</div>
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Three Iron Spikes Hold In Place,</div>
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Spotless Lamb, Now Dirty Sacrificial Face.</div>
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Voice, Whispering, Cracking, Groaning,</div>
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Pouring Out Life, For Sinners Atoning.</div>
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Parched Throat, Dry Lips, Mercy Please,</div>
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Cheap Wine On Hyssop, Creator They Tease.</div>
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Deep Into The Heavens Does He Gaze,</div>
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Searching, Praying Father, Nothing But Haze.</div>
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Completion Of Redemption, He Cries,</div>
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Wounded, Bruised Head, He Bows, He Dies.</div>
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Cold, Granite-Like Men, Face Death,</div>
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Watch, Remark, Christ Of God Gasps, Last Breath.</div>
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Now, Their Hearts Hard As Stone,</div>
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Strangely Moved, Even Their Sin Atoned.</div>
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For They Have Watched Countless Die,</div>
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Limp, Lifeless Bodies, Suspended High.</div>
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Men, Now Close To Post And Beam,</div>
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Ugly Truth Transformed To Beauties Gleam.</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">TG/3/1/2011</span></div>
T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-15872818168923431502020-03-31T14:41:00.004-04:002020-03-31T14:41:44.681-04:00Peace, Sweet Peace.<div align="center">
Peace, sweet peace, flood o'er my soul,</div>
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My being, breathing,thinking, out of control.</div>
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Peace, sweet peace, come fill my mind,</div>
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I look, I search, I cry, still not to find.</div>
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Peace, sweet peace, capture my spirit,</div>
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Distractions, Illusions, fleeting and empty, never fill it.</div>
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Peace, sweet peace, Yes, Yes, in Him I find,</div>
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Arms open wide, His love is forever kind.</div>
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Peace, sweet peace, abiding in love I stay,</div>
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Holding, clutching, yearning is how I pray.</div>
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Peace, sweet peace, twill be eternal bliss,</div>
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In Jesus, my Lord, my God, never to miss.</div>
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T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-60365372344649272962020-03-29T13:17:00.000-04:002020-03-29T13:17:37.662-04:00Paradox of the Cross<div style="color: #ffeedd; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.524px;">
These days, leading to Good Friday and Easter, the old hymn, "The Old Rugged Cross", is a favorite among congregations. And, I often wonder if we really think about the words of the hymns we sing. I believe that the cross is a paradox. I mean, there is a truth that is either veiled, or easily passed over. We lift our voices and sing, "I will cherish the old rugged cross", "I will cling to the old rugged cross." Do we really mean, cling to the old rugged cross? What about, cherish, do we really, cherish?</div>
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There are few objects that I cherish. My girls gave me a carved stone elephant from Zimbabwe, as a birthday present. I cherish that because of my girls. It is something I hold close and it is very personal. A family heirloom, a fine piece of jewelry,these are items people might cherish. To cherish is to hold close, to gaze upon, understand its value and worth, not necessarily monetary worth. To cherish the cross is to get close and personal. Experiencing the value of the cross means you have come close. Close enough to become appalled at the site, the site of blood, discarded clothing and lives.</div>
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I used to find it repulsive thinking about clinging to the cross. What person today would want to place their hands, or worse, their arms and chest, against a post used to execute human beings. The upright of the executioners tool was used over and over until it rotted. The blood of countless bodies would have run down the post and become one with the fibers of the wood. To even think of clinging to such a horrific object should be repulsive. Now, add that our faith, our belief in Christ, centers on the cross. Some would think we are rather barbaric.</div>
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If you will come close to the cross with me, if you will be open and vulnerable, you will be able to sing the hymn with honesty and an experiential truth. In order to do that we must accept the horror and humiliation of the execution. Denial will cut short the transformation. Jesus Christ, the Begotten of the Father, the Second Person in the Trinity, the Word and character of God in the flesh, was executed at a time and place recorded in history. His death was real and it was his sacrifice for the sin of mankind. Again, look past the scene and believe that his death was for you.</div>
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As you are close to the cross, you must listen to the words of Jesus. He speaks words of forgiveness for his executioners. He speaks words of comfort to his mother and a dear friend. A man, hanging by his side hears words of comfort and life as his earthly life slips away. Listen, as he speaks with parched dry lips for a drink. In his final minutes he cries to his father during his darkest hour, life spent, body broken, blood out poured, he utters his final words and dies.</div>
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Standing close, the scene of the execution and the words spoken begin to transform sensitive and contrite hearts. The truth of his sacrifice becomes your truth, the truth of redemption's cost becomes your truth. Your spirit begins to understand that what took place was for you. Soon, the scene of death and horror seems to fade and peace moves in your heart. With the peace comes new vision, a new eyesight that now looks at the cross and rejoices in the beauty.</div>
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T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-53795357386148114532020-03-01T16:09:00.002-05:002020-03-01T16:09:59.718-05:00Sexual Anarchy part 2The sexual revolution of the late sixties and into the seventies has had a profound effect upon marriage and the belief in its sanctity. The Pew Research Group has documented the shift in marriage statistics. Prior to the sexual revolution that began in the sixties marriage was still the recognized and accepted form of heterosexual long term relationships. With each passing generation the percentages of cohabitation relationships has increased and the number of marriage relationships has decreased.<br />
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The cohabitation rates among the religious population shows only a minor level of disapproval. Black protestants show the biggest disapproval rates and Catholics show the greatest approval rates. The belief in the sanctity or holiness of marriage is in direct proportion to the cohabitation percentages. The less people view marriage as a holy or sanctified relationship the less weight it carries in the decision making process. Simply put: If I don't believe God is involved, why should I care.<br />
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I believe there is a direct correlation between views of sanctity of marriage and the sanctity of the unborn. When the population looses touch with God many things happen. I will elaborate on a few. First, without a conscious understanding of God he has no influence on our decision making process. A sense of shame and embarrassment has been removed from our social consciousness. Nothing is wrong unless I think it to be.<br />
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Next, the power of the abortion movement is beyond my imagination. Billions of dollars are in the coffers of those who smile at us and display their ashen marked forehead while their donors suck a living child out of a woman's womb. Never in the history of any civilized land has such barbarism taken place. Fifty years ago the church was complacent and asleep in regards to abortion. If the Body of Christ had raised their voice to protect the body of the unborn we might be living in a different era.<br />
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The next is the celebration of evil. Many of the marches and parades that the gay and lesbian population promote are dark and evil. When children are made subject to them it is evidence of utter depravity and no moral conscience. The book of Romans has very dire descriptions of our modern era. Words such as depravity, reprobate, darkened, and others are used to describe our land. The lewd and depraved have no pangs of guilt because their mind is dark.<br />
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The years from the seventies into the eighties brought another sweeping and inimitable force.The trans movement came at us like a tsunami. In my opinion transgender and transvestite forces work as one. And, that is because they are wanting to be, or pretending to be, something they are not. Genetics, biology, and common sense dictates that if you are born a biological male or a biological female that decision was made at conception.<br />
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From the Trans movement the next wave to attack our values and way of life was just a natural progression. The next opinion piece will lead us into the gender identity morass.<br />
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Your opinions and comments are always welcome.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-60111876325511829732020-02-27T19:46:00.000-05:002020-02-27T19:46:59.886-05:00Sexual Anarchy is Upon Us.<b>Anarchy- </b>Mirriam-Webster defines Anarchy as absence or denial of any authority or established order. Today we are in the midst of an anarchy movement centered on human sexuality. I believe the end results of this anarchy will be the moral collapse of our social structure. It is already appearing and I fear it is irreversible. As in times past when society seems on the edge of collapse it has regained its foundation through spiritual renewal.<br />
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The first Great Awakening took place in the early 18th century. Reasoning began to dispel the need for spiritual enlightenment and faith. The Great Awakening is believed to be partly responsible for the early colonialist to believe God had a plan for their lives and country.<br />
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The seed of sexual anarchy was planted during a great time of civil unrest here in America. The mid to late sixties, lasting to the early seventies brought upon us the distrust of leaders and the government.Massive demonstrations and the birth of the counter-culture movement set the stage for social revolution. The Peace Movement's chant of free love found fertile soil in the minds of millions of young people.<br />
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Sexual relationships outside of marriage have always been taking place. But, those relationships were kept quiet and not celebrated. With the birth of the Peace Movement sexual relations outside of marriage were celebrated. Within the span of less than a generation cohabitation became commonplace. The sanctity of marriage vows were left by the side of the road or scorned altogether.<br />
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The societal perfect storm came together with the Roe v. Wade decision and the assassination of Harvey Milk. Now the termination of the unborn was protected and the child living within the safety of the womb became a target of choice. Millions celebrated in the streets of every major city that now a pregnancy of inconvenience could be exterminated. Sexual anarchy decided that the sanctity within the womb could be nothing more than a glob of cells devoid of protection.<br />
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The push to celebrate gay rights rocketed out of the gates with the unfortunate death of Harvey Milk. As tragic as his death was the societal push behind his death was pure politics in favor of the gay rights movement. In a matter of a few years almost every major city was subject to the flaunting of gay and lesbian lovers. As with the changing of the view of marriage so it is with marriage between a man and a woman.<br />
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Sexual anarchy is taking a hammer to the foundations of marriage and sexual identity.<br />
I will give my opinion more on this on my next posting.T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-48510120965844194512020-02-09T14:00:00.000-05:002020-02-09T14:00:22.574-05:00Dead yet Alive<strong>God Wants Me Dead- </strong>That statement sounds pretty extreme don't you think? It is a pretty extreme statement to make, and yet it is true. The statement finds its greatest truth and testing in the lives of His Children, Christians. So, <strong>God Wants Christians Dead. </strong>Even Jesus, yes, Jesus, wants us dead. In the gospels he gives some pretty sobering guidance for individuals who wants to be his disciples and follow him. That means me. I want to be known as a follower of Jesus Christ and a student of His.<br />
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In Luke's gospel Jesus is talking with the disciples about the crowds of people and who they thought he was. Some in the crowd thought Jesus was an Old Testament prophet, back from the dead. When Jesus asked Peter, "Who do you say that I am?" Peter quickly proclaimed, "You are the Christ of God."<br />
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Just moments after this confession Jesus made some of the hardest demands upon His followers. The demands that point to my statement, <strong>God Wants Me Dead.</strong> For, Jesus said that whoever wanted to be His disciple must deny himself daily, take up his cross and follow him. The cross leads to death. Jesus and the two criminals died on the cross. Their bodies were taken down, lifeless and limp.<br />
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Now what is the truth that Jesus wanted to help the disciples, and us, understand? It is very simple, yet it is probably the most difficult task in being a Christ Follower. <strong>God wants me dead to my own selfish nature.</strong> The apostle Paul reminds us, "I am crucified with Christ, never the less I live. Yet it is not I, but Christ who lives within me. And the life that I live, I live by the faith of the Son of God."<br />
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Each day I must be willing to put my own will aside. If I have to have things done my way. I must stop demanding my way. If I think I am always right. I need to admit that I am not right 100% of the time, no person is. When God calls on me to do some task I need to complete the job. If God has put upon a human heart some great burden than God expects it to get it done, in spite of how one might feel at any given moment.<br />
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The early Church turned the world upside down because they believed that Christ gave them life. They knew that the life of Christ must be lived out in an openly hostile world and they were willing to give their life for Christ. It was the blood of the Apostles and countless disciples that fertilized the barren heartlands and transformed them into flowering oasis's.<br />
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Sadly, today the western church is prosperous in property, programs and professionals, yet destitute in selfless living. Church's argue and split because of money, immorality, greed, gossip and at times physical attacks. The symptoms of the selfish church abound, in sharp contrast and contrary to the words of our savior.<br />
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Jesus made it very clear that the world judges the church and His followers by the way we love each other. And believe me, there are days that the only way I can love some of the people I deal with is to count myself <strong>dead.</strong><br />
<u><strong><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I Must be Dead to the World and Alive Unto God</span></strong></u><br />
<strong><u><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></u></strong><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tedd Galloway is the author of, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God and Encounter at River's Edge. Both books are available through local bookstores, Amazon, and directly from the author. His website is </span><a href="http://www.teddgalloway.com/"><span style="color: #ffcc77; font-family: inherit;">www.teddgalloway.com</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> At the site you can watch the trailers for both books, access the blog articles, read his bio, and find contact information.</span></span>T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-27424467385966708402020-01-29T14:22:00.001-05:002020-01-29T14:22:10.539-05:00A Stone Hill<div align="center">
On a distant stone hill I can see,</div>
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The hatred of mankind hanging on a tree.</div>
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Won't you please come close to His cross,</div>
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The scene, His life, His touch, seem as dross.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I will cherish the old rugged cross,</span></div>
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The wood, the iron, the wine, and blood,</div>
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Attack my soul, my sight, like a flood.</div>
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I want to run away and flee,</div>
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For in His visage, it ought to be me.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I will cling to the old rugged cross,</span></div>
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I know, I cry, He hangs in my place,</div>
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He is clothed in naught but disgrace.</div>
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His head, O bloodied head, bowed low,</div>
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From wounds, brokenness, life does flow.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I will cherish the old rugged cross,</span></div>
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His eyes, gentle, loving, upon me gaze,</div>
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My heartache, tears, cause my vision to haze.</div>
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The death post, again I come near,</div>
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For my need, now I see clear.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I will cling to the old rugged cross,</span></div>
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My soul by my hands, do grip His feet,</div>
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Soul rejoice! For salvation so sweet.</div>
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The post, the beam, that raised Him high,</div>
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Can, will, transport all beyond the sky.</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">G. Benard- I will cling- I will cherish</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">tg cpy 4-5-2012</span></div>
T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2702964153529476323.post-87343007844040638332020-01-10T16:00:00.139-05:002020-10-27T15:55:31.140-04:00A Sophisticated Man<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a <a href="http://aservantsheartministry.blogspot.com/">sophisticated man</a>. Every morning his mirror smiles at him. His white hair and beard are perfectly </span><span style="line-height: 18.4px;">coiffed</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">. Each hair is examined, snipped, combed, and smiled upon. His custom tailored white shirt fits as demanded and every onyx button is stitched securely in place. The lime and blue woven iridescent silk tie from Italy is the perfect accompaniment to shirt and suit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. His library is the envy of friends. The patina on the one hundred fifty year old wood is an intoxicant to the eye. Soft light is cast by Tiffany lamps and solid brass wall sconces. His books line one wall. He looks upon them often and smiles. His face instantly reacts as his eyes fall upon his first editions of Hawthorne and Webster. The smile, ignited by the gaze, reminds him of his status and lucrative mind. The great works of literature speak softly to visitors that here lives a sophisticated man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. His leather chair is one of the finest. Hand crafted and covered in Romanza Leather, it is exquisite in every detail. The brass buttons at the top of each arm bear the marks of his fingers over long years. The trained eye can see the faint color change in the leather where his elbows have rested as he enjoyed his pipe and brandy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. To the left of his chair, his Gillow’s Pembroke Table is within easy reach. His pipe and pouch rest within an Ebony bowl, placed exactly at the far left end of the table, though still in reach. The </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">decanter of Courvoisier brandy rests upon its 16</span><sup style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> century silver server. The snifter sits next to the decanter, with her opening covered with appropriate sized linen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. But, every morning his mirror is deceived. The visage of the perfectly groomed man fails to reveal his <a href="http://www.teddgalloway.com/">uninhabited soul</a> and empty heart. He rests within the safety and luxury of the finest leather on his chair. His lips enjoy his fine brandy. The scent of expensive pipe tobacco lingers long. At the setting of the sun he closes himself shut within the safety of the beauty of wood, leather, brandy and tobacco. The soft leather surrounds him and the curling tobacco smoke hides the solitary tear in his right eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He is a sophisticated man. The warmth of the pipe bowl comforts the fingers of his right hand. With the warmth of his brandy still smooth on his lips he pulls on the brass knob of his exquisite Pembroke table. With his fine tobacco smoke curling upwards towards the hammered tin ceiling the manicured fingers of his left hand react to the cold stainless steel barrel. The pendulum from the Windsor Cherry floor clock declare the passing of seconds as the manicured fingers from the sophisticated man find and rest upon the cold steel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">He Was a Sophisticated Man.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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T.A.Gallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13983339312121238681noreply@blogger.com0