The Mentor

A couple of days later I was out walking the track. There were some bleachers just inside the concrete curbing. There was a black guy sitting there reading. He greeted me so I stopped and talked to him. Pretty soon he said “God wants me to mentor you” I thought “yea right” and began to walk away. I walked about thirty feet I distinctly heard the still small voice say “If you don’t get over your racism right now you will miss what I have for you”


This surrender to Jesus stuff was continuing to turn my world upside down. Thank God that I had the grace to hear and obey. I spent about 35 days with Anthony Chapman, a powerful relational man of God. I consider what he put into me as some of the most important teaching that I have experienced.

I was on my way into the system; he was on the way out. He had served many years and had gotten a miraculous parole. Anthony was very involved in a transformational revival that had shaken San Quinton to the very core. There used to be a plague on the entrance of San Quinton that said “you are now entering the Gates of Hell” Some inmates began to pray and many miracles ushered in a true revival era into the prison.

When I went back, he was laughing. What a teacher I had for my first six weeks of Christianity! There were many benefits to the relationship, one of which I could not see at the time. The prison system in California especially in the south section was very racist. I was persecuted severely for my association with Anthony. He had been a leader in the Black Gorilla Family in San Quinton. There were several prominent gangs in the system and the BGF were, along with the Aryan Brotherhood were the most feared.

Where persecution abounds, so does grace abound much more. I saw many miracles as God’s hand was upon me in a mighty way. The choice was easy for me. I knew God was disciplining me through this man. He was teaching me incredible mountain moving concepts from the bible. There was no way I would turn my back on it, I would die first! This period of persecution engrained into me an incredible boldness that I have carried with me all my Christian life.

A Dream that Warns

That night I lay down reflecting on the events of the day. It had started in Eastern Washington and now I was in Chino California. That in itself was significant but when I reflected on everything else it was almost overwhelming. What really spoke volumes to me was the fact that Hemby had opened that door. There were about a thousand locations in that building, but I had been assigned that particular tier that my friend Hemby just happened to be stationed for that very short period of time. What were the odds? It was off the charts! After the event in my cell in the Asotin County Jail last night, “wait a minute” was that last night? I could hardly believe that only a 24 hour period of time had passed since God had invaded my life. As I remembered the event my reasoning took over and tried to pull me into an arena of unbelief. The event was too incredible to pass off. What had transpired since then was nothing to scoff at either.  I thought about my red bible with Chuck’s note in the front of it. It had been boxed up with my personal property and mailed to Joani’s parent’s house. I hoped that it would be safe, as I knew there was evidence of a life defining moment in that box of personal belongings.

I drifted off into a solid sleep. I had a very vivid dream, so vivid the details are clear after more than 22 years.

I walked up to a door and opened it. As I stepped inside the room I noticed that it was a gymnasium. There was a man in the gym. I knew this man. He was a young man about 18 or 19 who had been in the Asotin county jail with me. While we were in jail together he told me that he had used to be a satan worshiper. In that arena he had even called himself Beelzebub. Jesus had used this proper name to describe the “lord of flies” or the “father of lies”.

In the dream we began to have a conversation and he reached out with one hand and grabbed my left wrist. With the other hand he tried to pull my wedding ring from my finger. I had taken martial arts for a short period of time as a youngster, and I responded with the “wax on, wax off” arm movement made famous in the “Karate Kid” movie. Breaking free I placed a perfect round house kick barely over his head. I could feel his hair on my bare heel as it swooshed powerfully over his skull. I grabbed him by the throat as he fell to the hardwood floor. “Bobby I could take you out right now” I exclaimed to him. “I am not going to, I am telling you, you cannot hurt me nor do anything to me because God is with me!”

I woke up wondering what that was all about. My senses were heightened and I knew that the dream was significant.  I wondered what time Hemby would be in.  After breakfast I went back to my bunk. Shortly thereafter I heard my named called. Along with others, I was being transferred to Chino West. I was disappointed that I would not see Hemby again.

Soon we were taken into a room and shackled, and led onto a bus. We took about 15 or 20 minutes to arrive at the other facility. After sitting on the bus for what seemed like hours, we were taken into a small room with benches. We sat there for a long time, and finally they brought us a sack lunch.

It was hot. The room was packed and it stunk. Finally the offer started calling names. He was gathering inmates for specific housing assignments. At last I heard my name. I was called with about 8 inmates. We were grouped up and the officer began handing out “ducketts”. Ducketts were slips of paper with printed assignments on them. The authorities communicated with inmates in this matter. You received work assignments, doctor appointments and other official communication in this manner. I looked at the slip of paper that contained my bunk location.  I was assigned to sleep in the gym!

What did this mean? Alarms went off in my head. Did the dream preclude this? I started praying under my breath. The thoughts that kept coming were my words in the dream “you can’t hurt me because God is with me”

We were led across the yard. This was a large facility, designed as “White collar crime” facility. It sprawled with about 3 story buildings in a oval that surrounded a running track. There was swimming pool, weights, and tennis courts.  Looking back, the other inmates seemed thankful that they were here. I was just preoccupied with the dream.

As we walked on the paved trail toward the gym, I noticed a group of crows on my left hand side.  As we got closer to their location they suddenly screeched very loud, and flew in front of me very close. I was alarmed as this was a very bad omen.  The words kept coming back to me, “you can’t hurt me because God is with me”.

We walked into the gym. It was hot and packed with people. There were rows and rows of bunks. Due to the overcrowding of the system every available space was used to house inmates. There was a podium set up on the stage and an officer was making announcements. I heard a greeting, and I turned to see a group of young Hispanics gathered around a bunk set.

“Hey homeboy, where have you been?” I believed that I was hearing the voice of a friend. I turned and walked toward the bunk. As the man rose up from the bed, his  countenance turned extremely ugly. Fear tried to grip me, but I kept hearing me own words, “you can’t hurt me because God is with me” I wonder now if David heard similar word as he faced Goliath.

I looked at the crowd.  The man who was speaking asked me to let him see my wedding ring.  No I said. He responded that he would buy it. I stood firm. He then grabbed my wrist, and attempted to pull my ring off.  I broke the hold in the same manner that I had in the dream. He responded “we will stab you and take it then” Bold as a lion I responded “The only way that you will get my ring is to take it off my dead body!, besides you can’t hurt me because God is with me”  

I looked him in the eyes the whole time, and my stare had become even more adamant. I heard the voices around me “wow dude you better leave him alone” and “he has the heart of a gunslinger!”

“No, I have the heart of a child of God”  

   

God knows your name, and exactly where you are.

I was instructed to sit in the hall on the floor with a group of inmates. I barely sat down and a man about 50 looked at me and said “you have great faith would you pray for me”


I didn’t think that I had great faith, but I did know that God had forgiven me and that when I had acknowledged Jesus peace and trust flowed into my being. I prayed for him, not giving a second thought to the other prisoners who were staring at me like I was nuts.

Soon I was given a slip of paper with some letters and a number on it. I learned that this was a bunk assignment. I was instructed to keep my left shoulder on the wall as I walked down the corridor to my tier. This place was huge, and it was dismal. Many stories high and drab, noise emitted from the halls of grief. I located the tier climbed the stairs and found the door that I was to go through. I was overwhelmed with the size of this place. How many people were there? Ten thousand, or twenty thousand, maybe lots more? I must have walked a mile down the hall, and observed thirty or forty sections that had five floors and a dozen tiers on each floor. This place was huge, and it was dark. I started to worry as I could imagine all the evil that was lurking confined in the system.

I knocked on the door, and heard the familiar sound of jailer’s keys rattling and turning the lock. The door swung open, I was apprehensive to say the least. As the door opened wide I heard a voice exclaim. “Laney!! I never thought I would see you again”

I looked into the face of Officer Hemby. Hemby was about six foot 5 and weighed in at about 300 pounds. He was an ex professional football player who was a prison guard at CMC in San Luis Obispo where I had done my time. I said “everything is different Hemby, I got saved” He wrapped his massive arms around me lifting me off the ground for only an instant. Quickly he set me down and wiped the tears from his dark ebony face. Looking to the right and the left he observed that his spontaneous act of love had not been noticed. I knew in that instant of time that he had invested much prayer into me.

Later as I sat on my bunk, I was awestruck with the odds at what had just happened. Hemby, I had learned was there at receiving for a couple of days. He had received a promotion to become a parole officer in Los Angeles and would take his new position that week. Of all the doors that I could have been sent to, and of all the days that he would be here, it was here and now. I was, and am overwhelmed by God’s love.

Now is the time Today is the day!

I believe that we live in a present tense reality of the Kingdom of God. It is never too late to turn around and start a journey into the miraculous! My testimony speaks of this on many levels. This is speaking to someone today and that you will realize how much God loves you and that He has given you the desires that reside in your heart. Now walk it out!


We arrived in LA and I was transported to Chino to the California Penal Authority Receiving Center. What a contrast. I had just experienced the favor of God and being treated as one of his children and now it seemed that I was being immersed into darkness. The room was dismal, but that did not compare with the attitude of the Hispanic Office who was checking me in. He screamed at the other officers and inmates intimidating all who he connected with.

Undaunted I looked at the man. “What in the world is wrong?” I said to him. “I have a splitting headache” he almost screamed at me. “Sit down” I said motioning to the chair. He looked at me in a very aggressive way, then looking down at the chair he sat down.

I began to wonder what in the world was I doing? Had I lost my mind? I spoke again “Close your eyes, think of a place by a lake. The water is still and the grass is green. There are a few clouds in the sky, but the temperature is perfect and there is a real sense of God’s peace. Now let everything that is bothering you go.” I was startled that I had done this! I just had told the receiving officer in the penal system to “sit down!” I prayed under my breath. He opened his eyes and smiled at me! “Wow” he said I feel better!

He immediately went back into his professional demeanor, not wanting to make a show of anything. This happened in front of other inmates and officers.

I was amazed that I had done this and by the results!

The Beginning of the Miraculous

The next morning came early. I heard the jailer rattling his keys as he walked down the tier to my cell. He handed me my “street clothes” and I headed off to the shower. I was filled with anticipation, but I was not sure of what. Above all there was a profound sense of trust and love for God. I showered, washing my hair with soap, got dressed and proceeded to “the window”.


As the jailer opened the door, I noticed that there were two Hispanic men in a different uniform than the police. The older of the two men spoke “you are lucky! Last week we had 12 prisoners and we drove them in a van to Los Angeles. This week you are the only one. We are driving to Portland and flying to LA” “Praise God” I shouted. These words would almost become a trademark for me, and to my knowledge this was the first time that I exclaimed them in that manner. “Are you a Christian?” he asked. I replied that I had just gotten saved. I was securely shackled as the paperwork was completed, and then we went to the door of the secured garage. The older gentleman was named Trevino was a large man and he led me to the back door of the van. His partner was skinny and much younger; both men were armed with pistols.

I was placed in the back of the van and off we went headed toward Portland and eventually Los Angeles. After only a few a blocks Trevino who was driving said something inaudible to his partner, and he pulled the van into the Circle K on Bridge Street. I was immediately suspicious as this whole business of being transported by contractors was strange. Trevino pulled the van over jumped out and came around to the passenger side. Opening the door he said “get out”. Now I was really suspicious, but I exited the secure van. Reaching in his pocket and grabbing the handcuff keys, he took the shackles off of me. His partner protested but he did it anyway. He then handed me a ten dollar bill and told me to go into the store and get anything I wanted. “Can I get cigarettes?” he affirmed and amazed I walked into the store like a free man and bought me some chocolate milk, food and cigarettes.

The younger guy was a nervous wreck. Trevino kept reassuring him everything was going to be fine. Trevino then told me to grab a crate and put it between the front seats on their side of the cage. He said “I am going to preach to you all the way to Portland!”

The young guy kept fingering his gun, Trevino just laughed at him, as he told me his testimony of God’s love. We drove to Portland and he asked where I wanted to eat. We ended up eating at Elmer’s in my old neighborhood. I thought about how easy it would have been to get away and escape to a friend’s house.

The Moment of Definition

I was bewildered; I had fully expected a miracle. From the small jail cell, I reflected on the last couple of weeks. I felt disappointed and abandoned by God. I had received a letter from Joani’s aunt, the Pentecostal Ministers wife. In the letter she had exclaimed “there is only one thing left for you to do, surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ!” When I read those words I knew that she was right. I dropped to my knees on the concrete floor. I remember distinctly praying and asking God to forgive me and to save me. When I got up and sat on the small bed I suddenly wanted to read the state issued bible on the table. I opened the Bible randomly and read these words in red He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it. As I reflected on these words I had the distinct feeling that God was telling me to waive extradition.


I had a parole hold from the State of California, where I had absconded my commitment. I was concerned to say the least as we had left a drug lab in the garage of our home on Mount Hood. If I was caught it could mean a long time in jail. I had planned on fighting the extradition processes, as my parole violation was based on a misdemeanor. I was now considering waiving the process and voluntarily going back to the penitentiary and facing the parole board. “This is crazy” I thought. But I reconsidered the words that I had read. “he that loseth his life for My sake shall find it.” I was only into this “surrender to Jesus” stuff for about five minutes, already He was turning my world upside down. I could not deny that I had a distinct knowing that God wanted me to waive the extradition.

Maybe when I “lost my life” and waived my rights, I would be set free by the Judge! On my next court appearance I promptly told the Judge that I would waive extradition and gladly go back to California. The Judge promptly ordered me shipped to California to face the parole board. Wow this was not what I expected. I was shackled and taken to the police car. I began to hear the voice of the accuser “God does not care about you, you fool, now you will be in jail a long time. That’s what you get for trying to follow God” and on and on. By the time the cruiser was out on the highway I was fuming. I flew into a rage and started kicking the widows and the cage in between me and the police officer. The officer drove to the jail at over 100 miles an hour. By the time he pulled into the secure cage I was calmed down.

Several weeks passed. I wondered when they would take me to California. Other prisoners had been transported during the time and it all seemed very strange to me. Meanwhile I tried to draw close to God. I read the bible and a book by Oral Roberts that was in the jail library. I also sang and modified songs that I knew into worship. And I worried. I knew if the authorities found that lab I was gone.

On Monday March 12th 1988 I got word that I would be transported to California by a private contractor on Wednesday the 14th. I really worried now. I had never heard of a private contractor moving prisoners. I believed that it may be a conspiracy. I called Joani’s uncle Glenn for prayer and looked for verses on trust.

Tuesday evening a trustee, named Charles who had befriended me brought me two cups of coffee and a Bible. He left and went on his rounds and I drank the coffee, reflecting on the small acts of kindness the man had shown me. I looked at the Bible. It was a red paperback King James Bible. I looked at it, and I wondered if I had lost my mind. Turning it over I opened it to the title page and I noticed that Charles had written a note in the page.

It was simple, nothing fancy only encouraging me to keep praying and believing. But when I read that note I thought “that man is a convict, but he loves me”. I was amazed and wondered how could this be? Suddenly my whole being was energized and I began to tremble. I felt a warmth flood through my body and the tremble became an almost violent shaking. I fell in the floor as I wondered if I was dying! I realized this felt wonderful and it had to be good, and it had to be God! I lay on the cold hard concrete for about thirty minutes. My body was shaking and I was too weak get up.

When I did get up I was full of joy as I was assured that God had indeed touched me in an incredible way. I called for the door and asked if I could have a phone call. An officer came down the hall his keys rattling, and he opened the door. I headed to the pay phone and called my wife Joani at her parent’s house. “You won’t believe what happened to me” I said. She said “no! You won’t believe what happened to me!”

It seems that one of her friends came by and told her on no uncertain terms that she needed to go to church. Her friend then proceeded to take her to the friend’s parent’s house who took Joani to church. She was there in the church; the preacher in the middle of his message stopped and looked at her. “You are married” he exclaimed. Joani began to weep. He continued “everything looks out of control, but God is in complete control, He is going to save your husband and do it in a way that you will know that he is saved. God is going to use you both in a mighty way for his glory”

I was amazed. I was overjoyed that God had singled us out in that way.

Nightmare on Ash Street

Joani and I had a bit of an argument; she went over to friend’s house to play cards. When she came back she had a beer in her hand. I was outraged! How could she do that? We agreed to “fast for the Lord”. No alcohol or drugs during lent. I noticed on top of the refrigerator was a half gallon of “Old Granddad” bourbon whiskey.


I shouted “you want to see somebody drink?” I grabbed the bottle and gulped down enough to poison me. All the spiritual turmoil came to a boiling point, as I flew into a rage. I asked them if they wanted to see demons, I commanded Joani to leave with me, threatening to kill her. She agreed to go with me and accompanied me to the door. In one neat move she shoved me through the open door and locked it behind her. I demanded they let me in. They refused.

I got in our Suburban. I cranked it up and pulled the vehicle into the driveway. I proceeded to pull up to the front door and I positioned the corner of the bumper on to the front door of the apartment. I yelled, “If you don’t let me in, I will break down the door”!.....

My atonement

A few days later when I checked the cookie tin our money was getting thin. We had let the lab up on the mountain, simply running from the problem when I was confronted with my sin. I had in mind to manufacture some methamphetamine; I need a lab to pull it off. I had previously done some research, and I believed that I could construct a reduction vessel out of 316 grade stainless steel. Running the numbers over in my mind, the plan was already in motion. I was going to put the equipment together, buy a massive amount of chemicals and have one more run in the criminal side of life. http://thegracepapers.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-is-this-jesus.html
God had made my sin known to me and I had a plan to do what I wanted and at the same time atone for my sin.
I was going to cook one more batch, a huge batch, maybe a hundred pounds or more. I would sell the product and give HALF THE MONEY TO THE CHURCH! I know you are laughing and I also bet that you do the same thing. We all justify our moral dilemma, conducting some sort of religious penance in order to move our little schemes forward.

Joani and I were staying with some friends in Clarkston. They lived in an apartment on Ash Street. I was watching the news that night and I saw that it was Fat Tuesday. My mind began to race, “Fat Tuesday! Ash street, Ash Wednesday!, I knew what I was going to do! Joani and her friend Teresa came in the front door, where I confronted them. “Tomorrow is the first day of Lent, and we are going to fast for the Lord!”

I had in an instant concocted the plan. Not only would I cook a batch of illegal drugs and give half the money to the church, I would also provide further penance by proclaiming a fast for Lent. “No alcohol, or drugs during Lent” I declared. Joani reluctantly agreed, as she still may do with one of my hair brained ideas.

All of Creation

Joani and I had gotten off the mountain and spent a few days in the Tri-Cities. We then headed over to Clarkston, a town on the Idaho border where Joani grew up. I was mesmerized by the place.  Here was the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater rivers. This was the place where Lewis and Clark met on their second journey to the west, in 1805.  You might have picked up that I was very spiritual. I guess if truth be known I also have always been very spiritual, especially since that night in the hay field.

We had a cookie tin under the front seat of our Suburban. We did not have any cookies there; instead it was full of one hundred dollar bills, just one of the byproducts of my entrepreneurial/criminal lifestyle. We had worries but money was not one of them.

We had our dog Riley, the beautiful and friendly Golden Retriever. As we combed the countryside, I was overwhelmed with a sense of destiny, and God’s grace. One day we drove to the top of Rattle Snake Grade. I spotted a huge bald eagle. I had never seen the symbol of our great country, live before. I was amazed as it circled the sky. It seemed to beckon us to follow, and of course we did. He was majestic and I understood the choice of this great bird as our icon to represent freedom. High in the blustery sky he circled, seeming to move toward the south and down the other side of the grade. We drove down the dangerous road toward the Oregon border. I was unconcerned about the road as I watched the eagle draw us into the unfolding valley. We stopped the vehicle and got out. As I think about the majesty of creation I am almost as overwhelmed today as I was then.

The eagle circled in the deep blue sky. As we looked out over this great expanse the beauty of it all and the presence of God’s peace were totally captivating. This woman of mine, my wife was 19 years old and the most gorgeous thing that I had ever seen (she still is). I looked down into the great Grande Ronde River Valley, the sky and all of creation was expressing the love of the Father to me.  I was on a mountain top, both physically and spiritually. We saw God everywhere. We were looking for property and we called a sign that said "Telephone Johnstone". The real estate broker turned out to be an ordained minister who toured us through the area and subtly shared the gospel with us! 

Jesus often instructs me to closely observe creation. I am amazed by the simplicity and the complexity of the whole matter. God continually expresses Himself to humanity through the wonderfully orchestrated natural elements around us. In a sense I knew Him. Now this might contradict your theology, but it is true. We see through a glass darkly. Does a baby know its parents?     

When I think about this I know that He is not far off. God is here, He is not coming here, because He is. The Great I Am is here now. Can’t you feel His presence? Stop and consider Him. The more I consider, and the more I allow His peace into my world, the more grace I experience. I wanted and I want more. I want more of God. I want every particle of my being to resonate with his glory. I am learning to be un-intimidated by what men think. I am becoming less and less religious, being drawn closer to Him.

Then I am confronted by sin. “Oh wretched man that I am!” The author of most of the letters in the New Testament shared our same struggle. But who will deliver me? The Prince of Peace, the King of Glory, the one who paid the price.

Personal Reflection on Grace

Please bear with me I promise that I will get back to the story momentarily. I would guess that I am stalling to stay away from the pain!

 Since my writing is called “The Grace Papers” I suppose I should define what it is I am speaking about.  I had a Grandmother named Grace and I have a great niece named Bailey Grace. Obviously I am not writing about them. Though they both have fine stories that deserve to be told, but they certainly don’t deserve to be pulled into the pain of mine.

Throughout my life I have had some pretty weird ideas about grace. When were hyper-Pentecostal we used to hear people say “watch out! Don’t go too far with that grace message”.  People wrongly equate grace with sloppiness, or permissiveness, just like people wrongly equate Godliness with dress. I remember in about 1998 I began to be challenged by one of my good friends. 

I met Bill Finch in the summer of 1990. We were in Lewiston ID doing “Street Evangelism” on the weekends. Bill was walking the streets talking to young people about God’s love. He carried a guitar and occasionally sang a song as he walked the streets.  Bill and I became friends, we were (and still are) bound by commitment to Christ, honesty, and we shared a common experience of God miraculously reaching out to us to lead into the redemption story. Religious people don’t like Bill, but his friendship is dear to me. An intellectual even as a teenager we continually challenged each other with revelation and doctrine.

Years later Bill opened a coffee shop in Lewiston. People met in “Blackbird Java” in an informal setting called “the gathering”.  It was unlike any “church” that I had ever seen. What really impressed me was the transparency. Bill and the rest of the crowd were brutally honest. Openly speaking of sin they were struggling with.  Wow, if people told the truth like this in a traditional church setting they would be ostracized, and excommunicated.  But I found in honesty there is freedom!   

Judgment is a funny animal. Paul (who happens to be good friend of mine, because I have spent lots of time with him) said that we judge someone we do it because the same sin lives in us. As freedom becomes prevalent, I become a lot less likely to judge. It’s odd as it seems it would be the other way around. The more I walk in righteousness it would seem that I would have the right to judge. The opposite is true. Self righteousness is prideful, ugly and mean.

I don’t want to judge, I would rather love. I desire to look with the eyes of the Father, the eyes of Grace.

I learned this from Bill, or perhaps we learned it together.

Who is this King of Glory?

Why do geese fly south? Jim Rohn used to say “Because they are geese”. Geese have a genetic code built into them that assures that they will follow a certain pattern systematically. That is until weather patterns change then they observe another program or another is downloaded from an infinite divine source. A good friend of mine exclaims that everything is energy, and all energy has the divine built into it. Creation naturally moves in an ordained manner. Solomon in Ecclesiastes stated that “All the rivers flow to the sea, yet the sea is not full.”

Jesus exhorted us to consider the fowls of the air, and closely observe the lily. By doing these things we bring context to our lives in this respect. If God would clothe the lily, and feed the sparrows, will He not take care of you? He then declares that we should first seek the kingdom of God and all things would be added to us.

Throughout the years my faith has evolved with my theology, but there are many mysteries that remain. There is much that I don’t understand and probably at the forefront is the question of sin. One of my teachers once told me that sin is the result of unbelief. After a careful consideration of these words I would have to almost agree. (we will expound on that later) The mystery is “Why does man go his own his own way, while the rest of creation flows in the divine order. Why do geese fly south, beavers build dams, and yet a man beats his wife, children are abused, wars are fought.

What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?

For thou hast made him but little lower than God, And crownest him with glory and honor.



God has crowned man! He has made man in His own image with abilities that far exceed the rest of creation. The highest of all God’s creatures, struggles with power, and control. The third part of the brain the cranium is what really separates man from the rest of the kingdom. Here lies the ability to reason, to deduct and to record communication. As intelligence is rapidly expanded in man, so concern grows. Where is this all going? How will it all end up?

When I contemplate eschatology, and theory about the end of time as we know it I can become overwhelmed. When engaged in a conversation with those who believe a certain way, and gleefully have it all figured out, I often comment “when I figure out how to get the “in Christ” thing right, I will put some energy into the end times. So where is it all going? Only heaven knows, but a couple of things that I do know, I see through a glass darkly and God is good.

I have a hard time believing in a mad vindictive God. If that were the case, why did he show me such mercy?

Who is this king of Glory? He is the lord of Hosts!

Several weeks earlier

“People say I am no good, and crazy as a loon, cause I get stoned in the morning and get drunk in the afternoon… Preacher man talking on TV, putting down my rock and roll, wanting me to send a donation because he is worried about my soul! He said Jesus walked on the water, and I know that is true! Sometimes I think that preacher man wants to do a little walking too” The Charlie Daniels song blared as we cruised down I84 headed back to Pasco, or the Tri-cities as the area is known.

Now days I am fond of calling the area “the tri”, it kind of reminds me of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Back then I pictured myself as an “esoteric warrior”, well versed in all kinds of weird occultic stuff. My faith was so strong in these practices that I could watch birds, and use their actions as a radar detector. When birds flew a certain way I could tell that the police were ahead. You may think that I am crazy (or was) but I am telling you the truth.

We were in the Tri, staying at the Red Lion in Richland. I think I liked the hotel chain probably because the name vibrated out to certain numerological value or it reminded me of the Lion of the tribe of Judah. Anyway it was probably January the 15^th, we were in the room and I was reading Joani’s grandmothers Bible. As I thumbed through the pages I noticed in the front of the bible there was a page for important dates and I examined it more thoroughly. I saw that Joani’s Grandparents were married on January 19^th 1930. I suddenly had a sense that Joani and I were to marry on the same date in 1988. I told her that we were supposed to get married next Tuesday. In some fashion she agreed, I called her Dad and we went to Fred Myer to buy a wedding ring. I called her Uncle Glenn, the preacher who informed me that he would let me know the next day. When I got off the phone I told Joani if he would not agree we could fly to Vegas and get it done on the 19^th.  Glenn true to his word called me the next day and agreed to perform the ceremony. I had told him about the date, he let me know of a small problem. The state of Washington requires a marriage license be purchased three days before the ceremony. He already had a solution, we would marry on the 19^th before God, and we would come back on the 22^nd and redo our vows to make it legal “for man”. We agreed and began a whirlwind of activity to prepare for the ceremony.

I told Glenn that we wanted to get married bare foot, so that we would be “grounded”. He refused so we went to Umatilla, and had a tribal craftsman make moccasins for us. I wrote our wedding vows. I don’t remember everything, but I took out the part about Joani “obeying” me and I began the vows with “Having bathed in the light” The following is a paragraph taken from ‘A tribute to my Mother in Law”

We were married January 19, 1988 in Joani’s uncle Glen’s church. Now if that was not a site to see. In the midst of this Pentecostal Holiness setting were the bride and groom. We were wearing beaver skin moccasins crafted by a Umatilla tribesman as a compromise. We wanted to be married barefoot to be in contact with “mother earth”. When Pastor Glen refused we simply added iconic lore.  We carried gemstones and other esoteric paraphernalia, our vows were full of new age doctrine, dreamed up in a mildly hallucinogenic state of mind. Describing the gamut of the ceremony would lead us on another path, but I will say we had it all. Hippie, new age seekers, the elite religious “remnant” and Bob and Eloise, hard drinking two fisted small town urban cowboys. God must have been chuckling that odd day.

I am fairly certain that God chuckles on a regular basis. Jesus exhorted us, that when anxious to observe the complexity and the detail of the design in nature. We worry about things while claiming a relationship with the Creator God. We claim redemption, and His love while behaving in a contrary way. (One of my mentors would have said “don’t shout me down because I’m preaching real good!”)

That day in 1988 I married this beautiful woman, and I began to understand grace.  I am still only beginning to understand grace, because I like you “see through a glass darkly”.  I can declare to you that I am a believer. I believe in the Christ, this Jesus who is the son of the living God. I believe in the resurrection, because He lives in my heart. I believe in miracles, I am one.

Who is this Jesus?

A Greek word used throughout the New Testament, Karios indicates a specific or appointed time. In my life I had reached this place. Standing out beside that mailbox on Highway 26, I knew that I was lost. Spiritual pressure was intense, as I jumped into my vehicle and sped back down the dirt road to our house. I burst through the door of the ranch style house thinking about the events of the last few days.

I could remember only having one nightmare growing up. I had dreamed that I was walking down Third Street in Cheraw South Carolina. In the dream I was in front of a famous dwelling called the Lafayette House. As I walked down the sidewalk a huge bulldog jumped over the fence, chasing me very aggressively. In the dream I could not move my legs and I woke up terrified.

The day before the occurrence at the mailbox, I was in Portland. I had planned on helping a person in trouble. I was interrupted, by this mentioned dream that I had 20 years earlier! The dream used symbolism to speak to my situation then and there. As I reflected on the mind of God, I knew that my heart was to be His.

I ran through the house, I grabbed the Bible. I began reading aloud in a strong voice. I started calling on the name of Jesus. Joani came out of the bedroom, looking at me in wide eyed amazement. She said later that she thought that I had gone mad! I quickly grabbed all the books that I had with occultic content. Rushing to woodstove I hurled them into the blazing fire! I ran into the bedroom and grabbed a pie plate with a large quantity of uncut amphetamine. Joani protested but I was adamant, as I threw it into the fire! I told he “come on we are getting out of here!” When she asked where we were going I told her that I would not speak to here until we were on a church pew!  

We jumped into the Suburban and sped off toward our destiny! 

To God be all the Glory (If you are following read from the first post)

My whole purpose of writing this is to share the depths of Christ’s love.  I had fallen very deep. The things that I describe here are really the tip of the iceberg. I guess that I could “change the names to protect the innocent” but then what is the point? I want to share with you the truth, the truth of God's love for humanity. I heard my friend David Tucker say that God is really a dumpster diver. Now don’t get upset, he did not mean any disrespect, he was only illustrating how far God will go to save His children.  Considering that, have we really understood His investment, that He sent His own Son to the cross? Will He not with Him freely give us all things? I declare that I know this yet I may struggle with receiving His blessing. Obedience to the Father is good. I would encourage us all to obey, but I must struggle not step in with my humanity to attempt to replace his grace with my obedience. It is a poor exchange at best.

We were living on the mountain, Joani and I. We were into some bad stuff. Years before I had run into some people who were cooking meth-amphetamine. I started adding the numbers and I realized that this was the most profitable venture that I had ever seen, by far. The people that I was associated with were manufacturing a poor product. I hung around and gathered enough information to have an overview of the process. About a year later I went to a university library to successfully figure out the rest.

I was manufacturing a high grade pure product, so pure and clean that I was accused of getting it from a government lab. This knowledge of how to do this caused me to be in constant danger.  I could make more money in a week than most people make in year.  After attempted kidnappings and many near misses, I started believing myself to invincible. This along with the spiritual doctrine that I had developed made me particularly dangerous.

I pictured myself as an “esoteric warrior” as I was well versed in several of the occultist arts. I was a nut, that’s what I was. And as is often with people who are nuts I had a pretty good opinion of myself.  

Ever since that night with Joani’s uncle Glenn I had a gnawing feeling that God was not pleased with me. I also began to sense a call of God on my life. It was weird. Here I was manufacturing drugs, smoking pot all day, and living like a renegade. I began to see Him in everything. I had signs, subtle and blatant urging me to think about Him.

Joani had brought her Grandfathers’ Bible home with us. I had begun to casually read it. I would open it up, and let my eyes fall on the part of the page I felt like I was supposed to read.  Meanwhile things had started to get tense, with some strange happenings, one of which really had me own edge. We had not received any mail in like three weeks. No bills, no junk mail, nothing. This was beginning to bother me and in my mind I had an explanation. “The postal authorities were working with the DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency). They were trying to spook me and get me to move the lab. When I attempted to move it they would converge on me” I was beginning to get nervous to say the least.

Anyway one day I picked up that Bible and opened it up to the place between the Old and the New Testament. There was an insert with phrases written on it. One of the sayings was “You must abstain from Alcohol”. “That’s not in the Bible” I thought as my eyes wandered over the rest of the page. What I saw next put me over the edge. It said “you are either a child of God or a child of the devil”! I slammed the Bible shut, thinking “I am not reading that Bible anymore, some man put that stuff in there, and I am done reading that!”

Disturbed to say the least I jumped in the Suburban and headed down the dirt road, driving way too fast. I drove the half mile or so to the highway. I pulled over, jumped out and approached the large locked mailboxes. There were about a dozen boxes in the big aluminum cubicle. My heart was racing, indicting that somehow my being knew that something significant was going to happen to me. I opened our cubicle; I breathed a sigh of relief! I saw that we had mail in the box and somehow I was feeling the release of some of the pressure. I reached into the box. This box had no slot; the only way to put anything in it was to open it with a key.  I saw there was one lone item as I pulled it out. My heart began to race again; I noticed that this is no bill or letter.  It is a gospel track, one like the street preachers hand out down on skid row.

As I pull the folded paper out I notice that there is no address, and no postmark. “How did this get into the box” I thought. My eyes scanned the paper until I saw the words.

YOU ARE EITHER A CHILD OF GOD OR A CHILD OF THE DEVIL!!!

Up on the Mountain

We were living up on Mt Hood in the little community of Zigzag.  Yes there really is such a place. The atmosphere up there was as weird as we were which was no surprise.

I never will forget the night that we found the house that we ended renting. It was in the early fall of 1987. Joani and I and had packed up our Suburban with an air mattress, cooler and a grill. We grabbed our Golden Retriever Riley, and headed out to tour Oregon. We had an incredible time. Since I made my living on the black market we chose time as if it was our own.

Somehow we wound up in Zigzag, a little berg about halfway up Mt Hood.  I remember pulling off of Highway 26.  There was a cleared piece of ground about 5 acres or so. We got out of the vehicle, the dog anxious to run and to relieve himself. It was then I looked up into the sky. I will never forget the sky that night! The stars were white and intense against a backdrop of deep purple. It more than amazed me it instantly moved my consciousness back in time 13 years.

I was a teenager in South Carolina; it was the summer of 1974. Those were wild times in the south and particularly wild in John Laney’s life. I was an absolute renegade. God was the farthest thing from mind. I started using pot when I was about thirteen and I had escalated into almost all the other drugs. That night I had taken two hits of LSD. A couple of my friends and I went out to a hayfield that was owned by a relative of mine. The hay was high, about three feet; I looked up into the sky. It felt like I could reach up and touch the stars. The night was alive, the stars white against the super dark sky. I looked across the hayfield as the wind began to blow. Suddenly the hay looked like the waves or the shifting tide of the sea. I lay down and looked up, suddenly everything opened up to me. I can’t explain it except to say that I had an epiphany. I looked up and imagined all the solar systems around the innumerable stars. I looked down at the dirt and I imagined the structure of the molecule, I was taken aback by the similarity. I thought “it looks the same, when you look at the solar system and you look at the molecule, they look the same”. I began to ponder time, space, and eternity. Suddenly I knew that God was real! I not only knew He was real, but at the time I felt that I had a real good handle on how the creation was brought into being. I was elated, on top of the world. My understanding would bring me incredible success.

When I woke up the next morning I could not remember most of the details. “I should have written it down” I told myself!

Now I am not advocating taking drugs to find God. I tried to duplicate the experience and after several attempts it became apparent what I had experienced was a onetime deal.   (I have gotten close in worship though) But that moment on I had a knowing, an awareness, that this system that we call the universe was created by an all powerful, all knowing God.  I don’t understand how something like that can happen. It is hard or impossible to reconcile religiously. I do understand that on that August night in 1974 I began to experience Grace, from that time on I was a believer in some sense of the word.

Even when we did not know Him

When I contemplate life, eternity, theology and grace a pattern appears. I see how an all powerful God has intervened; nudging gently directing, even dramatically performing miracles in my life and the lives of others. The kindness of God is incomprehensible. When I look at the fabric of life it amazes me at the intricacies of the pattern, what a tapestry!

This writing is definitely positioned from my “Amateur point of view”. I am not a professional writer. I hope that I don’t ramble to the point of confusion.

I realized yesterday that I have spent most of my life trying to please my father. I just never could seem to catch his full attention and I was never able to perform quite up to his expectations. I learned this through a painful process. I had a meeting with a businessman who is a “father figure” to me. As I talked to him (trying to gain his approval) telling him of an endeavor that I am embarking on, he pulled out his sword and stabbed me right in the heart. It hurt.

Now after twenty two years of Christianity I am finally realizing that my heavenly Father is flawless, and that He is truly pleased with me. Imperfection can never measure up and be like Him, but our goal is to try, and to rely on Christ. As a son my desire is to express His love to you. I don’t know how to do that except from the first person. Please forgive me if anything that I say seems selfish of prideful. I know that God does not love me more than He loves you. I also know that I am not more important than you.  The only way that I can come close to expressing this unending love that I have experienced is from my own point of view.

Back to the story

Joani and I were in Pasco because her grandmother was ill. She was really sick and we all thought that she was going to die. At one point I went to the hospital and read her the 23^rd Psalm. Her room was on the end of a wing and an exit door was really close. I was really nuts; I had been engaged in some real heavy spiritualism for a long time. (I will tell more about that later) In my mind she was not supposed to die in that hospital room. I concocted a plan to take her out of there and to the high desert. I wanted her spirit to be free and not confined to this awful place. The next day I got my Indian blanket. I drove my Suburban to the hospital and parked by the exit door. I entered the hospital through the front door and made my way to her room. I walked in the room and was surprised to find a different woman. In the bed was a lady who must have weighed 300 pounds!

Dismayed I went to the nurses’ station.   I found out that they had moved her to the very center of the hospital! There was no way I could get her out from here. Talk about grace! I would probably still be in jail, as I was intent on doing the deed. I am sure the family would not have understood, much less the authorities.

Soon after Joani showed up grandmother Florence got better. I can’t explain it but it happened. Maybe her heart was longing for her estranged granddaughter and when we showed up she responded. Maybe it was all the Fathers work. I don’t know. But I do know that she suddenly got better. 

The Hook

It was the week after Christmas in 1987. I was an outlaw, and that my friend is a huge understatement. (I will tell the story, but not now it’s too painful)  My soon to be wife Joani Peters and I were in Pasco Washington as her Grandmother had become ill and was in the hospital there. Joani and I were living in “sin” if you could call it that, looking back it all seems like it was part of God’s plan.

I am often amazed at how humanity attempts to do God’s job. How we look at things and judge them. We only see a small part of the picture or as a good friend of mine wrote “We see through a glass darkly”.

Joani came from a much contrasted family. She had an awful childhood. Her parents were serious drinkers who dragged her along. She spent many hours alone in the car while her parents got drunk in the bar. Many time she witnessed her dad in fights either beating someone or getting beat. You get the picture, it was ugly. On the other hand Joani’s grandparents were intense Pentecostal Christians. The loved her and prayed over her. Her memories were mixed with the fear and horror of one life, and of lying on the couch at her grandparent’s house. With the security of her Grandmother Florence stroking her hair and telling her that she was “the apple of God’s eye”.

The year before her Grandfather had passed away, and this had affected Joani. We met soon after, and she often told me that I reminded her of Lowell her grandfather. I don’t know how but she found comfort in it and our relationship seemed to be deepened by that.

Now her grandmother Florence was seriously ill. Joani and I were in Pasco to visit her.  Joani’s aunt and uncle pastored a little Pentecostal Church in Pasco. I was about to learn a wonderful lesson that is engrained in my thinking, and probably one of the cores of my faith. Every person that I had known very well that professed Christianity seemed judgmental and rigid.  There I was trying to do God’s job, because I judged them before I ever knew them. I was in for a surprise.

Glen and Jeannette asked us to go to dinner with them. We met them at the Red Lion in Pasco. It happened to be Friday so I thought that I would impress my religious hosts by ordering fish and wine. My Catholic neighbors had done this and I thought this would be a sign to them that I was “hooked in”.  

At dinner I boldly said to Glenn “I believe in God, I believe in faith healing,” and I did. I had an experience years before that had convinced me of the reality of God, but I will tell about that later. I continued my dialog. “I can’t reconcile Christianity, here you have some man who grew up in a different culture, he may be of a different religion and he is trying his best to serve God, and Christianity says that he is going to hell”. I had struggled with this since I had first contemplated God.  Glenn looked at me. I braced myself for the answer that I had gotten in the past. He replied “That is too big for me” I was shocked as he continued, “only God can judge that, and it’s too big for you John” he continued in what turned out to be one of the best sermons I ever heard. “You need to stop stumbling over that, and respond to God in the way that he is dealing with you.”

I learned that grace comes wearing different clothes. It may come looking like my friend Bill with his long hair and his guitar. Or it may come with its hair in a bun (so tight that it smiles all the time) and a long dress. It may come from religion, and it may come on streets. But this thing that I am convinced of grace is the language of God.

Introduction "From my amateur point of view"

When one of my mentors would talk about God, he would always say "from my amateur point of view".  That resonates with me, because I think that we are all amateurs when it comes to God.  A man can spend much of his life (as I have for the past 22 years) learning the scripture and realize that he really doesn’t know much at all.  The Apostle Paul said that we see through a glass darkly, and I would have to say that is an understatement!  The first words from the Sermon on the Mount “Blessed are the poor in Spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God” would indicate that the key to receiving from that kingdom in the present tense is a sense of humility that recognizes he does not know much at all.

Now I will state my views plainly here, as I tell my story. I am blatantly Christian, but I make some religious people real nervous. They just don’t understand my friendship with God, and that is OK. I don’t understand their religion, but we all share the same thing. We still see through the glass darkly. I am comfortable not knowing it all.

We have an incredible story! It starts out real ugly, and that part will be hard to for me to tell. When I think about it I can still feel the pain of the heartbreak and the disappointments of someone who felt so misunderstood, and ended up hurting the people who loved him. And it may be shameful to some, but not for me. For I am the sum total of my experience, and it took the pain and the shame to bring me to place of grace. That place was in a jail cell and the date was March 13^th 1988.  My story is a story of hope. It is a story that is filled with miracles. Because I have experienced God’s Love and continue to do so, my desire is that you would too experience, the Grace and acceptance that comes from a loving heavenly Father.

 But, the story ends up where I sit as I type. I am a redeemed man and I know it! I have experienced God’s love, and because of that His love pours out of me! It happens in different places and sometimes seemly inopportune times. But I don’t mind, because every time that love oozes out of me it reminds me of what He has done for me!  

Please bear with me as I talk about Grace!