Wind,Rain,Winding Roads & Sunshine, The By-Ways of Life

The Chosen - Article 4 - The Receiver Of The Covenant

Born ten generations after the great flood, the lad grew up hearing the tales about the invisible God from his descendants who had survived.  He probably sat at the feet of his great grandfather Noah, many times removed and listened as he taught him lessons in obedience: He learned first hand from his grandfather Shem, son of Noah, who tutored him: Shem opened the boy's eyes to the ordinances and decrees of God.[1] The boy grew up focused: The God of Noah, the God of Shem was his God too.

He was the second child among three boys:  A record of his childhood is not recorded in the Bible.  What is recorded is the lineage, the heritage, and the opportunity his father, Terah, missed due to his own idol worship.

Called to leave his country at the age of seventy-five, the man, now married, childless, and wealthy heard the voice to depart,  to go, to leave what he had come to know and move into the unknown.   

He took his wife; his household, and his nephew along with his household accompanied him.  Probably, his entire village considered him to be crazy. Some may have tried to convince him to stay; others may have argued with him, and still others may have pleaded for him to reconsider: But the townspeople's words fell on deaf ears that refused to listen; their visions  fell on blind eyes that refuse to see what they saw; the eyes and ears of the man were cloaked with the faith he had received from the tutelage of his tutor and great great grandfather.  

• How do you explain to those you love you have heard a voice; a voice no one else has heard? 

• How do you come to terms with separating yourselves from people you have known all your life? 

• Where do you get the courage to leave familiarity and enter into the strangeness of a world you do not know?

 At the age of seventy-five, most people are waiting upon death. This man began the adventure of his life.

 Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you. I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all people on earth will be blessed through you.[2]

"What are you going?" asked the Prophet.

"Don't know," said the man. "God said he will show me."

One man's obedience to launch out into the unknown saved not only a nation but also guaranteed that salvation  would come to earth for all mankind forty-two generations, later.

Thus, there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ.[3]

 

Abraham,

The receiver of the covenant,

The father of many nations,

The father of the faithful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

 

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[1] http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/112063/jewish/Abrahams-Early-Life.htm

 

[2] Genesis 12:1-3. THE BIBLE. New International Version, 1984. ZONDERVAN.

[3] Matthew 1:17. THE BIBLE. New International Version, 1984.  ZONDERVAN

But It's Mother's Day

What do you hear,” the child asked the Prophet, curious to know what was happening below the heavenly atmosphere they lived in, "What do you hear?"

"I hear mothers mourning over the lost of their young."

“But it’s Mother’s Day,” the child replied.

“Oh, how well I know that," answered the Prophet.

"So tell me what do you hear, Prophet? What do you hear?"  The child in its naivety thought the earth had gotten better.

"Silence, child, I hear a faint rumbling coming up from a far."

"All right, I won't let out one peeps, but promise me you'll tell me what you hear?" And the child dance around the Prophet with joyous expectations.

"You have my promise. I will only tell you what I hear."  Suddenly, the Prophet covered his ears. "Oh the rumble, it’s terrible,” shouted the Prophet. “It gets louder and louder."

"Surely, it is the sound of  the people on earth celebrating and cheering as they honor their mothers," the Child said.

"Shh, now, I hear it clearly," The Prophet commanded.

"What is it?" The Child asked.

"It sounds like gunfire going off in schools, at homes, on streets––children killing children."

"But it's Mother's Day."

“Oh, How well I know that." The Prophet mumbled.

"So tell me something good. Tell me of the songs you hear, or the flowers you see, or children honoring their mothers with surprises on this beautiful Mother's Day."

"Wait!" Said the Prophet. "Be still. I hear another cry"

"Oh, goodie. It's about time you heard a beautiful cry."

The Prophet began to cry before the child, and he began to beat his hands against his breast.

What wrong, Prophet, what's wrong? Tell me, what did you hear?”

"Like Rachel crying for her young ones over two thousand years ago, I hear mothers wailing; painful moans, no man can ever imagine, coming up out of the heart of women: mothers wailing for the lost of their young.”

"But it's Mother's Day, Prophet.”

“Oh, how well I know that,” the Prophet answered.

“So, what do you see on this beautiful day for mothers everywhere,” the child asked, hoping the Prophet would report about the presents that made mommies happy on their special day. Maybe, just maybe,  the child thought, the Prophet will let me look down and see the celebrations.

“Shall I tell you what I hear? Maybe then you’ll understand what I’m saying,” the Prophet said.

“All right.  Tell me, what do you hear, Prophet?  What do you hear?”

“I hear mothers wailing for the lost of their young;

Children, whose lives have been cut off by drunken drivers;

Children, whose lives are stopped short by guns in the hands of distorted minds;   

Children, whose lives are prematurely ended by the scalpel;

Children, whose lives are snuffed out by bombs as they sleep; 

Children, whose lives have been contaminated––destroyed by chemicals dropped from the air as man fights against man.

I see little people, like you, child, who have no voice

To speak out,

To protest,

To vote;

Their lives have been taken away without their consent.”

“But it’s Mother’s Day, Prophet. It’s Mother’s Day.

“Oh, how well I know that!” The Prophet answered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

 

A Special Mother's Day Tribute and the Introduction to the Article, But It's Mother's Day

This year's Mother's Day article, But It's Mother's Day, is a tribute to all those mothers who have lived through the agony of having a child precede them in death.  No mother expects to see her child leave this earth before she does: it is the mother's heart that dreams of life–long life– for her children even before they are born.

 I would also like to salute two women whom I have come to love, respect, and admire.

 Micki Peluso, author of And The Whippoorwill Sang,[1] whose daughter's life was cut off by a drunken driver.  Micki tells Noelle's story, and therefore her own story with heart. Full of humor and wit, And The Whippoorwill Sang draws you into the Peluso family: it also takes you through a gamut of emotions from anger to hatred, to laughter, to tears that will force you to support a zero tolerance for people who drink and drive.  

 

Linda Halpin is the author of an upcoming book about her son, Louie, who was shot down in New York City. As a mother, she was suddenly thrown into the woes of lost.  Louie was a child with a promise, a future boxer whose future stopped on a fatal afternoon as he innocently visited his friends. Linda's book is expected to be release sometime this year.   

 Each of these women has gone through the dark night of their souls, and they have come through it with renewed strength to step up to the plate and speak out against violence that has been done, not only against their children, but against children all over the world.  

 Happy Mother's Day!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

 

 

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[1] Peluso, Micki,  And The Whippoorwill Sang,