The Holy Spirit, God with us

Jesus said to his disciples, “I will not leave you as orphans. I will ask of the Father and He will send a Comforter.”[1] The comfort in this life is God. Because of what Jesus did, and the price he paid, we can be one with the Father just as Jesus is.[2] What Jesus did changed an earthly dynamic Adam created.[3] Because of what Jesus did, Man no longer needs to be separate from God.

There are several theologies and dogma regarding the the Holy Spirit. The Bible has a simpler theology. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of the Living God. Since Jesus did what he did (preach the kingdom of God, the cross, the grave, resurrection, sit at God’s right hand), there is now an opportunity to return to the right relationship with God – the Creator of Heaven and Earth. At first God and Man were together. They worked together. The Father told Man to tend the Garden, but God was right there with Man the whole time. Man could directly and immediately rely on God for any immediate need. Everything Man needed was at hand. At Man’s sin – act of separation from God, Man was left to rely upon his own efforts.

Jesus changed that. After mellenia of being effectively separate in life from God, Jesus made a way for Man to reunite. Sin was a decsion to separate from God. The price of that is death; death of the spirit. The correction was a decision to choose God, even unto death, without waiver. And, Jesus did that. Now for us, it is a simple choice to walk with God. The judgment price has been paid by Jesus. Because of this, we now have right and access to the living, life-giving Spirit of God.

Who is God? God is the one who created us all, the one in whose image we are created. We were to be His children. Sin separated us. Jesus created the opportunity for us to be back together again, and that by the simple choice to accept and believe that what Jesus did at the cross was enough to repair the breech, to allow God and Man to be one again.

His Holy Spirit is key to that relationship. His Holy Spirit is not a third Christian deity. The Holy Spirit is the essence and life of God manifested to us. Life is impossible without the Holy Spirit, but being baptized or overwhelmed by His Holy Spirit is different. By His Holy Spirit His presence is fully with us, around us, and through us. We can go through, include, and participate in this life with Him in all things. 

The Holy Spirit is not a power to be used by us. The Holy Spirit is not a foreign power within us. The Holy Spirit is not sorcerous or magical or mystical power we control or that comes upon us. 

The Holy Spirit is God, with whom we need to cultivate a relationship. The Holy Spirit is God present with us. The Holy Spirit is the holy, pure presence of God manifested in the Earth to help us get through this life successfully. Success in this life is learning to walk with, rely upon Him, toward an everlasting relationship with Him; measured in now moments.

The Holy Spirit is my purest friend, my One upon whom I rely, my ever present Mighty One, Jehovah Elohim.

Learn to lean on, rely on, trust in Him. Believe on Jesus Christ. Receive the living God’s Holy Spirit. Discover not a power but One who has power, who is power, to change everything in your life. Begin  a new walk with Him. Ask Him, test Him with this. Walk with Him.

[1]John 14.16-18; [2]John 21.21; [3]Genesis 3.17; 

Read Full Post »

Oatmeal and Buttermilk

My mother’s family came from central Georgia. She had six sisters and two brothers. As often as we could, my parents piled us into the family  car, a station wagon, to make the five hour trek from Charleston to Milledgeville. It was a pilgrimage of sorts; off to reconnect with family. There is nothing quite like a large family of siblings connecting with their cousins who also have a large family of siblings. Meals were usually had around long tables with benches for seats and foldout card tables for the overflow. Noise, laughter, and at least one argument was always part of our visits. I never cared for the road trip to Georgia or the even longer road trip back, but I always enjoyed my time with my cousins. These were special times, special adventures, special moments.

One special moment was a visit to Uncle Jake’s and Aunt Mildred’s farm. Even though raised in the south by two country born parents, we were pretty much city kids. The idea of having and raising pigs, having a working farm, was quite foreign to me. I recall one trip where the kids went down to see the livestock. The older kids were down there, near the wood-railed fence, looking at the pigs. I wanted to go down there with them. I don’t think I was allowed, so naturally, I tried sneaking down there to be with the big kids, anyway. I got about half way down there when a pig came out of the pen and chased me back up to the house. I tried three more time before giving up. The same pig would come out of the pen and chase me back to the house. I think I spent the rest of that visit on the porch or in the house. I was miserable.

Meals for a large family with a visiting large family were noisy and a flurry of motions in getting everything prepared and set to the table while still hot enough for everyone there. In one of those meals I recall the flurry of motion, emotions, and conversations around the table. It seemed that a torrent had descended on the kitchen and after a brief storm the kitchen was empty again. Empty except for my brother Rob and I. We sat at the table picking at our bowls of oatmeal and staring at the glasses of buttermilk. These were new experiences for us both. We sat there and were told we could not go outside unless we had eaten our food. We were having none of that. We sat and complained as little boys would do.

Our host, Uncle Jake, came into the kitchen. He smiled at us. It was like he wanted to laugh but didn’t. He seemed a very big man to me. He wore a short sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up just a bit, and he wore bib-overalls. He was a working man who understood hard work. I was a little boy who was at war with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of buttermilk.

Uncle Jake sat across the table from my brother Rob and me. I wish I could remember the entire conversation. His words have been lost to years and time. He talked to us like he was one of us. Told us it was good for us. He had us try little bits, then a little more. My brother Rob may have been smarter than me. He ate his up and drank a good portion of his buttermilk then was excused to go outside and play. Uncle Jake was exceedingly patient with me. With his encouragement, I finally finished my oatmeal. He let me go without finishing the buttermilk. I complained rather sadly at how it tasted like it was bad. I remember I felt like I finally escaped when he said I could go. I do not think I even said thank you. I ran from the table as quickly as I could and joined the kids outside.

I do not remember the rest of that day or that weekend. It was so long ago and blended into other memories. What I do remember the most was my Uncle Jake taking a moment to spend time with me to ensure I got enough to eat. I remember his face and how he genuinely cared. To this day I still do not much care for buttermilk, but I do owe and credit my fondness for oatmeal to my Uncle Jake who took the time to be with his baby sister-in-law’s little boy and helped him eat his first bowl of oatmeal. There were other trips, other visits, but none that I remember more than this one. I wish I knew him better and had other memories I could pull up. But, this is a good one. I am glad he took the time with me, helping me get through a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of buttermilk.

Read Full Post »