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From:
Phil Scovell <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
The Electronic Church <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Wed, 7 Jun 2006 08:52:16 -0600
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text/plain (183 lines)
This article isn't exactly finished but it is close enough, I think, so I
thought I would go ahead and post it.

Where You Are When Reaching The End Of The Line


By Phil Scovell






     Dad and I packed the car with our fishing gear and left for
an afternoon of fishing at the lake 30 miles south of our home.
This time we didn't take Uncle Fred's motor boat because there
wasn't that much time, dad said, so we would just fish from the
bank.  That was fine with me.

     Driving around to the north end of the lake, dad found a
place to pull off the road.  We were high over the lake and from
the road, you could see the lake over the tops of most of the
trees which were thick and nearly down to the water's edge.

     Quickly gathering my gear, I saw the well worn path leading
down into the thickness of the greenery.  "Can I go on ahead,
dad?"  He said that I could and that he would be down shortly.

     Falling the trail was fun.  I couldn't have been more than 8
or 9 years of age but I loved hiking.  Soon I was lost to sight as
the tall leafy green trees closed in around me.  It was cool on
the path and the trees did an excellent job blocking out much of
the bright sunlight.  It was almost like being in a long green
tunnel.

     Soon I reached the tree line.  I had probably walked a
hundred yards, when I walked into a wide open place, about 30 feet
in width, that was hard pack.  I walked to the waters edge and
stared out across the lake.  It was quiet and well sheltered from
any wind so the water was quiet.  It looked like a wonderful place
to fish.  I sat down, put my equipment together, and bated up.

     My line was already in the water when I heard my father
coming down the narrow path.  I turned just as his figured became
visible through the thickness of the trees.  He looked content and
ready to enjoy a peaceful afternoon fishing with is only son.

     Just as he stepped into the open, the long fishing rod he was
carrying in one hand suddenly, and inexplicably, jerked backwards,
nearly ripping it from his grasp, and almost causing him to lose
his balance.  I watched as my dad spun around, a startled look
clearly on his face, as if expecting to see someone behind him
playing a practical joke.  All the air went out of his instant
anger when he saw his own fishing line snaking back up the trail
snagged in the low hanging leafy branches.  His line had caught on
an overhanging branch on the narrow path far back up the trail and
ran out just as he stepped into the clearing.

     This pleasant memory, although somewhat humorous, often comes
to mind when remembering my dad.  He took me hunting and fishing
with him even when I was really too young and too small to get
much out of it.  He, and his oldest brother, my Uncle Fred, always
taught me safety, too.  This was back in the 1950s when lawn
mowers had absolutely no safety devices on them at all, cars had
no seat belts, electric heaters had no safety shut off features if
the unit got tipped over, and you could, even living in the city,
burn your own trash in a trash barrel in the backyard.  It was my
job, even at 5 years of age, to burn the trash so I was taught
safety around fire and matches.  Parents, and other adults, took
time, back then, to teach their children all sorts of safety
things, such as, you always carry scissors and knives and rifles
and shotguns pointing toward the ground.  Likewise, if carrying
such things, never never run but walk. Always look both ways,
twice, when crossing a street no matter what street it was.  Never
walk around the back end of a horse even if he is in the barn.
Never mount your horse in the barn in case he decides to try and
buck you off and you break your back on the overhead rafters.
Then there is the most important safety tip of all.  Never eat
yellow snow.

     When this childhood memory came to mind recently, I was
puzzled.  This was, and always has been, a pleasant memory for me;
even humorous.  I examined the memory closely to see if there was
something there in the memory that felt uncomfortable or out of
place but I found nothing.  Later, I realized what this childhood
memory meant to me.

     I have listen to more than 40,000 sermons in my life time.
One thing I have heard many times, by those trying to bring
encouragement to their listener is this little saying.  "So you
have come to the end of your rope in your life?  Then tie a knot
and hang on.  Victory is just around the corner."  I thought this
was cute the first time I heard it.  By the time I had heard it a
hundred times, I started to hate it.  I eventually realized why.
The answer?  Because it not only didn't work, it had no meaning
for me.  Why?  Because I finally came to a place in my Christian
life when I had done everything I had been taught and trained to
do.  I discovered, I wasn't at the end of my rope, I was at the
end of my life, and possibly even the end of my relationship with
God entirely.  I was afraid, to say the least, about how I felt.
In short, I learned there was no knot to which I could hold on and
I had slipped from the end of the rope and now was in free fall
and where was God!

     Over the years of praying with many people, I have discovered
a common denominator.  At the end of everyone's rope, as it were,
and this was true for me as well, what is left over seems to be
loneliness.  when, during prayer sessions, we arrive at this place
in a person's memories, I am always glad.  Why?  Because it means
the person is not far from being delivered from the lies their
entire life has been based upon.

     for some, it takes us to a father who never bothered to show
his little boy anything, or refused to spend time with him, or
proved to be a phony Christian in reality.  For others, this
loneliness at the end of their line is identified as shame cause
by being sexually molested by their father or grandfather or other
relative.  In other cases, guilt lies beyond the end of the rope
of loneliness.  Sometimes beyond the loneliness are memories of
sadness let behind because parents thought the church was more
important than their children and they feel guilty because they
just can't seem to please God.  Then I find those who discover
fear behind the loneliness.  Fear they aren't good enough and will
not make it and that Jesus really doesn't love them because they
are a failure.  Besides, they've never been successful so it must
be true that they are a failure.  Then there are the little girls
being told by their mothers just to box up all their hurt feelings
and put them in a box with a lid on it and then sit on the lid.
Then we have the little boys told by their dad's that they wished
they had never been born.  Little girls promised candy if they
wouldn't tell.  Little boys threatened to be beaten if they did
tell.  Eventually, the rope runs out and there is nothing left on
which to hold.  At the bottom of the well is darkness and that
darkness is the nature and persona of loneliness for those who are
forced to face it alone.  The line has run out.

     Although it is difficult to believe at the time, Jesus is at
the end of the line.  No, he isn't there to catch you because you
aren't going any where.  He is there, on the other hand, to cure
your loneliness.  Yes, I used the word "cure."  Did you know that
you can be lonely in the middle of a crowd?  For example, the
woman with the issue of blood was in a crowd, yet she was healed
by Jesus.  She was alone and nobody cared about her.  The woman
who couldn't stand up straight for 18 years who came into the
temple as Jesus taught, was all alone although other believers
were all around her.  He focused on her because of her loneliness
he recognized and healed her.  Lazarus died alone but Jesus came
and resurrected him from the dead.  Have you ever noticed that
Jesus resurrected no one else in the graveyard?  The Galilean
demoniac lived alone in the tombs, we are told, naked and
demonized to the point, no one could approach him.  No one, of
course, but Jesus, who did approach him and ran the demons off by
His spoken Word.  The lame man at the pool of Bethesda, who had
been 38 years on his back, was all alone.  He had no man to put
him into the water to be healed.  Jesus looked him up one day and
healed him.  There is no record that Jesus healed anyone else at
that pool that day but this one lone man.  We cannot overlook the
loneliness of the man that was over 40 years of age that was
carried to the gate of the temple called Beautiful to beg.  The
Bible confirms he had been lame from birth.  Peter and John spoke
the Word of Truth to him and taking him by the right hand, lifted
him up.  He was instantly healed and went with them into the
temple walking and leaping and praising God.  Yet he had been
alone, all alone, as he lay on his mat at the gate every day, and
he was in the middle of great crowds.  Jesus cured him in his
loneliness.

     I have personally stood, and sat, with groups of other
Christians conversing among themselves.  Yet, they said nothing to
me.   Why?  Some people, I suppose, don't think a blind person has
anything worth saying or worth listening to so why bother.  Yes, I
have been alone in the middle of crowds myself many times.  Yet
today, I know Jesus Christ in a way that likely none of those who
ignored my presence have ever discovered.  I have found Jesus
beyond my loneliness.

     Now, how about you?  Are you at the end of the line, the
bottom of the rope, or the end of the trail?  Call me, and let's
find out where Jesus is.

Has He Ever Crossed Your Mind?
www.SafePlaceFellowship.com

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