I hate to say it, but the global warming prophets of doom are having a good week, apart from the Sarah Palin pick. It looks like Hurricane Gustav is sure to hit the Gulf Coast, and there’s no guarantee it won’t strike New Orleans. And the approach of Tropical Storm Hanna is not comforting, either, although computer models and historical tracks indicate it probably won’t hit the US.
I feel so bad for people on the Gulf Coast. I always breathe a sigh of relief when a hurricane misses me, but I can’t stand the thought of Gustav approximating Katrina’s landfall. It’s good that Lousiana has Bobby Jindal instead of Kathleen Blanco, and it’s good that we have the benefit of hindsight, but this would still be a devastating blow.
One sad thing is that some people will be hoping for a major catastrophe, to deflect attention from the Republican convention and make Bobby Jindal look bad. I hope you’ll join me in praying for a different result. I would not want to see a major hurricane hit an American city during a Democrat convention, or at any other time. I hate to see the American people divided into camps that are pro- and anti-hurricane.
I believe you have to be careful in your prayers, when a hurricane is on the way. You can’t really expect to get results if you ask God to send it to another populated area. I always ask for things like a reduction in strength and a move away from concentrations of human beings.
The weather people don’t talk much about the size of storms. They should. You can get tracking and wind-strength information on just about any storm since the middle of the 20th century, but it can be tough, finding out how wide the storms were. Why is that? A wide storm is much worse than a small one. If you look at Katrina’s cumulative wind map, you’ll see that the storm was very bad, many miles from the center. Andrew, on the other hand, tore up Dade County and had little effect one county to the north. Katrina was big, and Andrew was small. Gustav is small at the moment. That’s a mercy. The models seem to predict a landing west of the city. If the storm stays small, that might limit damage.
A big storm can do as much damage as several small storms. They have a scale for wind strength. They should have one for diameter. Maybe they do, but I’ve never heard of it.
When I watch video from New Orleans, I see the sun shining, and I see order and calm. That’s comforting. Then I think about the difference a couple of days could make. I imagine the chaos and destruction. That breaks the spell.
Gustav killed 59 people in Haiti. It always amazes me to read casualty figures from undeveloped countries. Gustav wasn’t even a hurricane when it hit Haiti. If you look at casualty numbers for the most deadly storms in history, they’re all in places where the standard of living is low. Not one occurred in the Western Hemisphere. It seems like every time a big cyclone hits a place like Bangladesh or India, the casualties go into the thousands. The recent Burma storm is believed to have killed 138,000 people. It seems like a strong capitalist economy is the best defense against storm deaths, except in Cuba, where totalitarianism assures that the government can force people to evacuate.
Pray this thing shrinks and breaks up and moves away from cities. It would be great to see an improvement in the forecast.
I’m up way too late. Here are some quotes from Democratic Underground, where the level of hysteria is, hopefully, indicative of how powerfully God has blessed us with McCain’s VP choice. Some are funny, and some are just, well, par for the course.
About the unwillingness, by intelligent Democrats, to promote the indescribably pitiable and desperate rumor that Palin’s baby son (who has Down’s Syndrome) is actually her daughter’s:
Did the Repukes wait for “proof” before slandering Edwards with the affair charges? (And it WAS slander if they didn’t know it to be true at the time). The fact that he had actually had the affair and had lied about it during the campaign is IRRELEVANT… they didn’t KNOW he was lying at the time they accused him of it.”
Apparently you can slander someone by telling the truth.
Here’s a fine citizen’s take on choosing not to kill your baby:
She should have aborted the tissue and moved forward with her life… Stupid is as stupid does.
She calls him Trig, but apparently, his real name is “the tissue.”
About an oil-state governor who openly attacked the oil industry:
Palin is associated with oil producers. That’s all one needs to know .
That’s like saying Scooter Libby is associated with Patrick Fitzgerald.
This one is just priceless:
Did anyone else see that picture of her with a fish. What a Nazi nut! She is nothing but more of the same failed policies looking out for the oil industry. She has to be and will be stopped. Just because she has a vagina does mean we will vote for her. She is a hate-filled fraud. Biden will rip her lungs out in the debates.
The hate shines forth in that family photo at the Drudgebart Report. And we are all aware of the link between raw fish and Nazism.
Here is proof that more kids are taking an interest in politics:
I bet Republicans are quacking in their boots right now!! Imagine little Sarah sitting down to debate BIDEN, of all people. He is going to chew her up and spit her out!
I have been quacking all day. Isn’t it clear that we’re all terrified? Republicans are on cloud nine. PUMAs are on cloud nine. And Obama just went from rock star to roadie. For the GOP, this has been the first good day of 2008. This may actually help us forget what Fred Thompson did to us.
The debate thing is what should be scaring Democrats most. Obama isn’t really a genius, in spite of the hype, and he falls apart when he doesn’t have a script. He’s openly ducking McCain, although it will be hard to keep that up if McCain gets a big Palin bounce. The underdog always has to take the fight to the leader. As for Biden, he is verbose and boring and not all that clever. There is no reason to think he’ll do well. And he’s not running for President, so a good Biden performance won’t be a big help to Obama.
One interesting thing: the PUMAs are criticizing Obama from within the left wing, with insights the right might never have come up with. They say he has a history of stealing huge chunks of Hillary’s speeches, for example. No one can hurt you like a former friend.
Guess I’ll get to bed so I’ll have energy to quack tomorrow.
Here’s something fun. Get yourself a GOP toolbar. I know toolbars are annoying, but this one actually has a reason for existing. Every time you use the little search window (it’s Yahoo), you may end up sending a couple of cents (someone else’s) to the GOP. I’ve sent 18 cents already. This may push McCain over the top.
It’s so weird. After I saw Sarah Palin’s speech, I decided I was finally ready to donate. And later I looked at my comments, and other people were saying she shoved them over the brink, too.
I celebrated my bitterness and devotion to God by running back to Bass Pro tonight, to return the useless scope rings and rifle sling I bought. I could not figure out how a sling with one swivel was supposed to work, but I figured there had to be a reason for it. I returned it and went to look at the other slings. Guess what? They had the same model I returned. With two swivels. Somehow, the manufacturer shipped one with a missing swivel, and guess who bought it?
It’s irritating. I sort of know a little about guns, but every once in a while, I come up against something that proves I’m still lost. I was positive there had to be some kind of gun that only required one swivel.
I wasn’t able to get scope rings that would work on the Savage without raising the scope too high, so I have to order the damned things. While shopping online, I found the solution to my K31’s windage problem. If you have a K31 with a scope, take note. You can use Millett Angle-Loc .22 rings. They actually work. And you can adjust the windage.
Naturally, I encountered a new problem while researching. I read about “lapping” scope rings. This means you install the rings and then put a straight metal cylinder in them, with some abrasive, and you twist it until it grinds the insides of the rings so they’re in line with each other. Supposedly you can bend a scope if you don’t do this, and it will also prevent marking. Does it really matter? Hard to say. I’ll tell you what I don’t understand. If you grind the paint off the inside of the rings, what keeps them from rusting? Maybe you can blue them or coat them with a protectant.
Speaking of protectants, a lot of people recommended Eezox to lube and protect guns. I got on the web and checked some tests out, and it looks like Break-Free CLP (which I already have) and Outers Metal Seal may be better.
Naturally, I’m too confused to actually buy anything.
I found a blog which purports to be the main PUMA site. As I am sure most of you know, that stands for “Party Unity, my Ass,” and it’s a group of really angry women who wanted Hillary Clinton to get the nomination.
On the one hand, it’s great news, if it’s genuine. On the other, it’s depressing that anyone could bail on a party’s principles because of the candidate’s sex.
This is bad. Already, the liberal press has described Sarah Palin as a “staunch conservative” and a “staunch pro-lifer” (because she made the radical choice not to kill her son for having Down’s Syndrome).
I can’t believe they’re hitting her with “staunch.” You know as well as I do, it’s never good to be a “staunch” anything, as far as the press is concerned. You never hear anyone say, “That Algore is a staunch environmentalist.” No one says, “Those folks at PETA sure are staunch animal lovers.” No, it’s always “staunch”-[insert something the press hates].
She has been the VP choice for less than a day, and already, she has to fight the stench of “staunch.”
Man, they must be mad at her. It’s not her fault Obama chose an Alfred and McCain chose a Robin.
The bee exterminator has made his appearance. And now there is no joy in Beeville. It’s lying in pieces in front of the dining room window.
I cannot believe the aggravation my bees have caused. A guy from another company came out, sprayed, and plugged holes. The bees laughed, and each stood up and gave him four middle fingers. One of the exterminator’s employees came out, drilled holes, explored, and gave up. Finally, the exterminator himself arrived. They drilled three holes in the living room wall and ceiling. Then he got on a ladder, with no bee gear, and ripped open the soffit with a hammer and a Sawzall. When I heard him cursing in pain, I knew he had hit paydirt.
The bees were in a four-foot-long cavity between two rafters. When he yanked the soffit boards open, they poured out like chubby kids through a hole in a fence between a fat camp and a Dairy Queen. And they were ready to dance. Unfortunately for the exterminator, everyone but him was either wearing a net or hiding in the distance. So he was everybody’s partner. I believe they nailed him three times, including one Heart-of-Darkness style sting involving a mission up his pant leg.
It may be an honor thing with bees, like when all the Indians wanted to kill Jeremiah Johnson. Maybe stinging the exterminator is like being a bee suicide bomber.
According to the exterminator and his associates, this hive was over a year old, even though I didn’t notice it until maybe six weeks ago. And some of the combs were full of honey. He tried some of it and pronounced it excellent, while an employee made futile remarks to the effect that he probably shouldn’t be eating insecticide. Another member of his crew said this area produces very good honey, and that it tastes like mangoes. Unfortunately, Coral Gables probably bans beekeeping, on grounds that it might be enjoyable and in some way resemble the behavior of people living in freedom. They ban everything they possibly can.
I guess next time, I’ll spring for a fiber optic camera thing and do the bee-hunting myself. Now that I see how it works, it doesn’t seem like a big deal.
I wish it had been possible to get them out with less sawing, but there was no way these bees were coming out, without some demolition. You can see that from the photos. Little rat bastards.
Here is the hole.
Here is the comb.
A commenter complained about me killing useful, wonderful bees, of which the world needs more. I wouldn’t worry. The exterminator says he can tell this hive sent out swarms. Eight times. He counted the queen cells. These are holes in the comb where queens are raised. When a queen comes out, she hits the road and takes half the hive with her. Bees may be in trouble in some places, but here, they are nearly impossible to kill.
I have to say, I got real satisfaction out of stepping on the ones that were crawling around on the ground, retching up bug spray. The bad news? This hive turned out to be located in a place where it couldn’t do any real harm. I could have left it in there.
The bees are dead, and I got the ants walking on their heels. Is there no one on this planet to even challenge me?
John McCain has chosen Alaska governor Sarah Palin as his running mate. What do you think? I know Aaron will be happy.
I know little about her. But I hear good things. Christian. Pro-life. Executive experience, unlike Barack Obama. Youth. A sparkling personality. Tons of achievements. It’s hard to believe one human being did all the things she has done.
She’s a woman, obviously. Is that good or bad? When I practiced employment law, I saw a number of valid sex discrimination cases, but I never saw a case of bona fide racial discrimination. It seemed to be much rarer. So if being black hurts Obama, won’t being a woman hurt her more?
Not sure. Somehow, I think a female Vice President will scare the woman-haters less than a female President. And we have Hillary’s furious, abandoned one-issue, female followers. Ordinarily, they might consider Palin male, because she’s conservative. But right after being stomped and abused by the Obama campaign, they may see things differently. And many of them aren’t true liberals. I think there is a difference between a classical (i.e. left-wing) feminist and a female voter who simply has a burning desire to see other women in office.
It’s unfortunate that she comes from a state with 12 residents. I suppose the theory is that her real constituency, in this election, will be all those angry, loosely affiliated women. All over the country.
The Democrats can claim this choice proves John McCain knows a young person can be a good President. But it’s a bad move. For one thing, it highlights Obama’s greenness. For another, her accomplishments dwarf his. Obama got into Columbia and Harvard on affirmative action, and he did virtually nothing with his life except work as a political hack. Sarah Palin has executive experience, she’s a pilot, she hunts, she wins dog races, she has five kids, she was nearly Miss Alaska, and she also has telekinetic powers and has a patent on a perpetual motion machine.
If I remember correctly.
Bless me with your opinions.
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This shows how unfamiliar I am with this lady: I thought she raced dog sleds, but she actually raced snowmobiles in “Iron Dog” races. Whatever those are.
I heard from Leah Friedman this week. You may recall that she has a heart problem, and that she went into respiratory arrest and suffered oxygen deprivation to her brain. She has been recovering well, but she still has some language problems, and she has paralysis in her left arm and hand. Thankfully, she no longer walks with a cane.
She has been so upbeat in her communications that I didn’t realize she still had these lingering difficulties.
Leah credits prayer for her recovery, and so do I, and she seems especially grateful for the prayers volunteered by readers of this blog. I’m grateful, too. A lot of fine people show up here every day. Thanks for turning this blog into something that occasionally benefits humanity.
If anyone is still willing to offer a prayer, I feel sure she wouldn’t turn it down.
On the subject of changing things so they turn from harmful to beneficial, I have been trying to work a similar change in myself over the last couple of years, and I highly recommend it. I can’t explain it, but when you focus too much on doing things for yourself, it’s like lying on the couch all day, overeating and drinking beer. You start to feel sated but not satisfied. You start to become conscious that every additional thing you do for yourself adds weight to your burden. On the other hand, turning your efforts outward lightens your load and adds to your peace.
It’s easy to get the idea that all you have to do to make God happy is leave other people alone and accept salvation. But it’s not enough to avoid doing harm. If you’re not actively helping people, you’re missing out on half of the experience. So I’m always–okay, usually–grateful when I get a chance to do something for someone. You can’t help another person without helping yourself. And I have a lot of idle years for which to account. I tried to be good, as I understood “good,” but from my current perspective, I see that I missed opportunity after opportunity.
One of the things I have had on my prayer list for a couple of years (at least) is that I would become less critical and corrosive, and that I would become a person who affects others positively. I was getting sick of myself, to tell you the truth. To some degree, I still am, but I am enjoying the progress.
A reader complained that I seemed crabby since I started trying to improve my relationship with God. I was very surprised. I’ve gone back and looked at things I wrote three or four years ago, and “crabby” doesn’t begin to describe them. Sometimes I’m tempted to delete them, but I think they have a certain amount of value, because they show how things have improved.
Any time you draw closer to God, you’re going to encounter resistance and anger that don’t seem justified. I believe these are signs that you’re headed in the right direction. I think I should try not to take it personally when people react badly. They usually mean well, and they may be under influences they don’t understand.
Anyway, don’t forget Leah. She hasn’t forgotten you.
Here is a bummer for you. I went to Bass and got me a sling, scope rings, and a rifle bag. And it looks like the rings and sling may have to go back.
The scope I bought has a 42mm objective lens. I bought rings that were supposed to work with a lens that size. But when I put them on the rifle, the scope rested on the barrel. DOH.
I just checked the Burris page. Guess what? Burris uses bigger lenses than other makers. How they can do that while still calling it 42mm is beyond me.
Now my head hurts.
I assume they mean 42mm is bigger than the lens on a competitor’s product with the same specs. And maybe the thick barrel is the problem.
I took the sling out of the bag and noticed something funny. It only has one swivel. What the hell? The gun has two studs. Do I attach the sling to the one stud with a cable tie? I happen to have a swivel I’m not using, but I’m not totally sure the sling can be opened up and inserted in it. Guess I’ll figure it out.
They don’t even sell Eezox. It’s a weird store. In some ways, they seem almost ashamed of their shooting products. At least I enjoyed the giant saltwater aquarium. I always stand by it for a while and imagine myself killing all the fish.
I sure hope there is nothing wrong with the bag.
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Cheer yourself up by reading about the otherPresident Jefferson. Moxie met him at a fundraiser held by Jackie Treehorn.
My new scope is here. I am just about ready to try out the Savage .17 HMR. I’m pretty excited about it, since all my other rifles have little problems that make it hard to distinguish my bad shooting from error caused by mechanical booboos.
I went outside and aimed it at the construction guys across the street, to see what the optics were like. Needless to say, I did not bring the gun with it. Even I am not crazy enough to aim an empty rifle at neighboring yards.
I need rings, and apparently, I really, REALLY need something called Eezox. Someone in the comments recommended it, and Varmint Al says the company that made some of his barrels recommended using it before shooting for the first time.
I looked it up. It seems to be some kind of dry lubricant. I wonder if it would be better than Hornady One Shot, to keep powder flowing smoothly in a powder measure.
Guess I better head for Bass. I know of no other local place that will have the little items I need.
If you’re not near a TV, let me give you the news. John McCain hasn’t picked a running mate yet, or at least he won’t say who it is. He was supposed to tell us today at 11 a.m. The problem? Barack Obama made his announcement by text message. John McCain chose Pony Express.
The waitresses and bartenders appreciate your tips, folks.
I couldn’t resist.
I’m completely creeped out by Obama’s weird Acropolis stadium set. Have you seen this thing? They put phony Greek columns up at Invesco Stadium, and I guess Obama is going to come out with a bronze sword and slay Polynices.
Does anybody remember Wag the Dog? I don’t. But I recall this much: it was about a President in trouble, who tried to save himself by hiring movie people to fake up the news. Do you get the feeling the Obamas may own the DVD?
I guess it makes sense that Obama is promoted like a movie star, and that he’s surrounded by actors and musicians all the time, while McCain is lucky if he can get Pat Boone to send him a non-alcoholic beer on Facebook. We are gradually learning that there is a conservative entertainment counterculture with more than a few prominent members. Problem is, if they go to Minneapolis, they’ll all end up unemployed. Because Hollywood and the music business want to be diverse, and as we all know, “diverse” means “free of conservatives and Christians, regardless of color.”
As I have noted before, if you take a group of white male liberals and add a black female conservative, the group actually becomes less diverse. It’s like conservatives and Christians are the antimatter of diversity. Or something.
Condi Rice is a white man. Get used to it. Colin Powell used to be white, but since he turned on the Republicans, he has browned up nicely.
As a Christian, I continue to be bummed out by two things. The right’s abandonment of Christian (or Judeo-Christian) values, and the anti-Christian undertones of the Obama phenomenon. This guy runs around with an idol in his pocket, and the idol just happens to be a demigod which has been characterized credibly as the Hindu Antichrist.
For a long time, I’ve believed there are people who succeed beyond reasonable expectations, simply because dark spiritual forces help them. Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Oprah may be examples. Also Hitler and Castro. By the way, if you think I’m picking on Oprah, find out what she’s up to. She has hitched her wagon to a pop-culture faux Messiah named Tolle. And she says there are all sorts of paths to salvation, not just the one which Christians accept. That’s anti-Christian. Take the hyphen out, and what do you get? Furthermore, “anti-Christian” contains the letter “T,” which rhymes with “P,” which stands for “pool.”
I never saw an obscure reference I could resist.
We usually use the term “antichrist” to describe a unique person we think will rule in the future. But I believe there are lots and lots of people who are “anointed” by evil to prosper in this world and influence people negatively. Is that crazy? I know I’m not the only one who believes this. And I worry that Obama may be one of these people. He’s a nobody, with no qualifications for the job he wants. And he had very powerful competition for the job, in the form of Hillary Clinton. But he squashed her effortlessly. On top of that, the press is so giddy over him, you can’t help but wonder if something spiritual is clouding their judgment. Chris Matthews said Obama made a tingle run down his leg! Is that something a person says, when he’s in his right mind? THREE network anchors went on a press tour with Obama. How can a thing like that happen, without generating a wave of firings? It’s inconceivable. But we all saw it.
He also spent twenty years at an anti-Semitic church. I don’t differentiate between anti-Christian and anti-Semitic. To me, it all seems to come from the same place, whether you’re talking about Pharaoh killing the Hebrew firstborn or Muslim fathers murdering their sons for accepting Christ. Increasingly, events bear out my impression. The same people who hate Jews, now hate Christians and America. Like I always say, these days, we are all Jews.
Even Christian churches are anti-Christian now. Many of them tell us to divest from Israel. Many say God is just a pleasant idea that will help us behave. Crazy. We have moles in pulpits.
The Greek Obama motif is bothersome, because in the past, the struggle between Jehovah-worshippers and the rest of the world has often been characterized as a struggle against Hellenism, or against Rome. To a person like me, who sees everything as a symbol, the Greek set is like a punch in the face.
Of course, we have to be fair. When the actual Parthenon was built, John McCain cut the ribbon.
Sorry. I see why Jay Leno does this. It’s so easy.
I don’t think people who are promoted by evil know what’s going on. I don’t think Oprah wakes up every morning and thanks Satan for a chance to send more people to hell. And I would be amazed if Obama had bad intentions, beyond the usual desires for wealth, adulation, and power. I doubt that religion means much to him. When he was young, he knew he wanted to be a politician. So he did two things politicians have to do. He got married, and he joined a church. Much as many conservative politicians have done. But his meteoric and unmerited rise to prominence is freakish, and I don’t think things like that happen without supernatural action.
I am afraid Obama will hurt Israel, by weakening support. I am afraid he will strengthen judicial attacks on Christianity by appointing far-left freaks to the federal bench. And I fully expect him to push us in the direction of socialism, which is a system that has always been anti-Christian. He’ll probably do what he thinks is best, most of the time, but he’ll be completely wrong.
Sometimes I get the impression that this is a pivotal election. It’s as if God is giving us a choice between a fairly normal politician with relatively old-fashioned values, or a guy who represents humanism, immorality, and pride. More obviously than Bill Clinton did. It has the smell of a test.
I think John McCain will be President this time next year. I don’t think we’ve gone crazy enough to elect a man who has never held an executive position, and who pals around with anti-Semites and unrepentant terrorists. My guess is that once the ads start running full-force and people learn what Obama is all about, McCain will be in position to win by four or five percentage points.
But it disturbs me that Obama could get this close to the Oval Office.
I pray for the McCain campaign. If this is a spiritual battle, we have to fight it on a spiritual level. That’s how I see it. I would suggest you do the same. The Bible says God chooses the king. So cast your vote.
Swell news today. I picked up my latest adopted baby. A Savage 93R17-FVSS. In case you haven’t memorized the entire Savage line, I’ll inform you that this is a .17 HMR bolt-action rifle with a heavy stainless barrel and no sights. The scope is still on the way.
I also have ammunition. I ordered it from Midsouth while I was waiting.
Looks like a nice little gun. Seems very light, to have a barrel like that.
I can’t wait to get to the range and see what it will do. My earliest chance is Friday, but I don’t know if I can swing it.
I think I should have done this two years ago. Or earlier. I’ve had fun with the PSL and the K31, but I really needed something with fewer idiosyncrasies. Something I could take out of the box and shoot. This looks like a good choice. It should be ridiculously accurate at a hundred yards, and the ammunition is cheap, as was the gun itself.
The PSL has a trigger problem. The K31 needs scope shims. My Nylon 66 just doesn’t seem to like scopes. The new gun shouldn’t have any of those problems. Now, when I miss, I’ll know who to blame.
The ammunition is just plain weird. Tiny little miniatures of high-powered rifle rounds. And each one has a red plastic insert in the bullet’s cavity.
I don’t know what accessories I need. I have the Boresnake, and I’ll be buying a bag for the gun, but after that, who knows? It has studs on it for a strap. Maybe that would be a good idea.
Now I feel like I can quit looking at rifles for a spell. This one should be a dream to shoot, so I should be able to learn a great deal from it. I certainly hope so. You never know when your city might be invaded by chipmunks.
A while back, I revealed something I thought would benefit people. I mentioned one of the reasons I believe in Jesus Christ. It was something I had kept to myself, except for few times when I mentioned it to people close to me. I used to think it was a waste of time to tell people about it, but that was before the Internet. It may be a waste of time to tell people one-on-one, but if I put it here, it might reach someone who will get something out of it.
Again, as I have said before, the best reason to believe me is that I don’t profit by telling the story. If a TV preacher tells a story about a supernatural experience, you know he’s getting paid to do it. I don’t receive a thing for my trouble.
I’m thinking about this, because I happened to flip to a religious channel tonight, and I saw a guy interviewing people, asking if they had seen or otherwise sensed God. They all said no, and even though he appeared to be some sort of clergyman, he said he hadn’t, either. I thought that was a little weird, since so many people say they have physically sensed God’s presence. It occurred to me that maybe I had a duty to talk about the things that had happened to me. If such experiences are rarer than I once thought, maybe people who have them are supposed to tell other people about them.
Last time, I told about an incident that took place while I was driving. I was on my way from Milwaukee to Kentucky, in the dead of winter. And I had a terrible feeling of dread come over me. I was positive I was going to die that day, and I had no explanation. My life was okay. I hadn’t suffered any emotional trauma. But I still felt that way, and I couldn’t shake it. I pulled over and prayed, and suddenly, I felt a warm, loving presence in the car with me. It was just to my right. It was full of peace and reassurance and love, and these attributes seemed to have a pressure that drove them against me like a hug. It wasn’t visible, but it occupied an identifiable space on the seat next to me. After it showed up, I was okay. And I was sure it was a visitation from Jesus.
I have had that same experience on at least one other occasion. It was in the mid-Eighties. I was becoming more religious. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the best role models or teachers I could have asked for. But I was improving, compared to what I had been in the past.
One night I was lying in bed, fully awake, about to drift off to sleep. And I felt the strangest sensation. I can describe it in a way that will help you to understand it, to some degree. Imagine you’re wearing a blindfold. You can’t see any light at all. And someone across the room from you trains a spotlight on you. If they moved the spotlight so the beam played over your body, you’d feel the beam as it moved over you. Where the beam struck, you would feel warmth, and the rest of you would be cooler. I felt something like that, in that dark room. I felt a warm beam playing over my body, but it wasn’t a beam of light, and it wasn’t physical warmth. It was emotional and spiritual warmth. And of course, powerful love. The same thing I felt when I had the experience in the car, except that instead of a more or less ball-shaped presence, it seemed more like a beam, coming from above.
This will sound crazy, but it’s absolutely true. Everywhere this beam touched me, I felt happy and secure. The crazy part is that when it hit my legs, for example, my legs felt warm and safe and content, and the rest of me felt less so. The same applied to my arms and my chest and the rest of me. You may not believe you can feel emotions in your legs or your arms, while the rest of you feels something different, but you can. You can probably have one toe that is happier than the rest of your body.
I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. If it happened now, I think I’d get out of bed and worship, to be on the safe side and show respect. But that didn’t occur to me. And I had had a few other supernatural experiences, so I didn’t get all that excited. Besides, the nature of the beam was such that it was impossible to be disturbed by it.
I was sure this was a manifestation of Jesus. Just as I was sure the first time, in the car. I don’t know why I was sure, but I was. I expressed my gratitude and so on, but beyond that, I didn’t know what to do. And I fell asleep, believe it or not.
People tend to think that if they see or hear or feel something miraculous, they’ll run up and down the street proclaiming it, but the truth is, you may take such things calmly. I think most people convince themselves their supernatural experiences didn’t happen, so they won’t have to react to them. That’s the easiest thing. I didn’t do that, but I was calm enough to sleep.
As soon as I drifted into that funny state between sleep and waking, I woke up, and I found myself flat on my back. My arms were extended in front of me, with the palms up. They were just there; I have no memory of raising them or of turning onto my back. And I heard a sound like arcs of electricity pouring into a pair of electrodes. And I felt a buzzy sort of sensation in my palms, as if some kind of energy was pouring into them, from a place beyond the ceiling. I didn’t see anything. I just felt it. And my arms stayed up for a little while, and then the sound and the sensation disappeared, and that was the end of it.
I would love to tell you that when I got up the next morning, I ran around the neighborhood using my magical palms to heal people of cancer, but nothing like that happened. I never did figure out the significance of the event. But it happened; that’s a fact.
Sometimes I think it was the baptism of the Holy Spirit. There was another event in my life which I had taken for the baptism of the Holy Spirit, but maybe the encounter with the beam was the real thing. I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know, during this life.
I don’t know why I was the person it happened to. It didn’t happen because I’m a wonderful guy who deserves such gifts; I can swear to that. I didn’t earn it. Do me a favor and don’t even suggest it happened because I’m a good person. I know better than that. And no one I have told about it has ever become a Christian as a result. In fact, at least one person has completely forgotten it, as though I had never mentioned it.
I sometimes wish things like that would happen to everyone. But then I remember the parable of Lazarus and Abraham. And I remember the Hebrews following Moses, unwilling to trust God even after they saw Him in a whirlwind and saw the Red Sea stand up in vertical walls so they could pass. People believe what they want to believe. If Jesus came down to earth in person and took people by the shoulders and ordered them to believe, most people would say he was a fraud or decide it had never happened or assume they had hallucinated. That’s the truth. That’s no exaggeration. If you’re alive when He returns, you will see people try to explain Him away. Our ability to believe what we want is one of the great mysteries of human nature. Even though the things I reveal here happened to me, and I’m positive they happened, sometimes I have to remind myself I didn’t imagine them. And I’ve spent a lot of time living as though they had not happened. I never pretended they hadn’t, but I didn’t act the way a person of faith should.
I’ll tell you another strange thing about my experience in the car. You may remember that I’ve been reading Brother Andrew’s books about evangelizing Muslims. I also took a look at some online testimonies, including Youtube videos. If Brother Andrew and a whole slew of Muslim converts are to be believed, many Muslims are coming to Jesus because of visions and dreams. The other day I watched a video which was supposedly about a true story. A young Muslim man had had an experience very much like what happened to me in the car, only his experience was more vivid.
He said he was lying in bed, awake, and he felt something pin him down, and he saw a figure approach him. And it somehow communicated the knowledge that it was going to kill him. Although he was a Muslim, he had been learning about Christianity from his brother, and he began wondering if Jesus could save him. And when that thought entered his mind, he was released and the figure left. But he was delivered, just as I was, from something that had convinced him he was about to die. Later that night, he sensed the presence of Jesus in the room, and he felt a sensation he described as “aggressive peace.” Much like what I felt that day in the car.
The parallels are remarkable. I realize this guy could be a complete charlatan. In the past, I’ve been burned because I believed other people’s stories of supernatural experiences were as true as my own, so I don’t assume anything. But it sure sounds like he and I got a dose of the same thing. I wish everyone could feel it. It’s really something, being exposed directly to God’s true personality. You would not believe how much He loves us. I know life is full of suffering, but I felt that love, physically, as surely as I feel the keys I’m using to type this entry.
Here’s the video:
One message I have derived from my reading and study is that I have to quit being so obnoxious to Muslims. It’s fair to say they’ve shown great cruelty and bloodthirstiness and ruthlessness, but I shouldn’t insult and antagonize them gratuitously, just to express my anger and frustration. I criticize Ann Coulter for being so nasty to liberals she prevents them from hearing the conservative message. Well, if everyone is as nasty to Muslims as I have been, there is no hope we’ll ever succeed in acquainting very many of them with Jesus. And Jesus is the only force that can change them. It’s fine to send the military to hold them back by force, but I remember what Paul said: “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” That’s from the book of Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 12. While we have to resist evil with physical strength, the truth is, human beings are not the primary enemy, and any earthly effort that is not supported by spiritual effort is wasteful and likely to fail. I’m not saying God will turn all the Muslims into Christians, and there will be peace on earth and free cupcakes for everybody. But things would be better than they are now, and countless people could be turned into friends and saved from destruction. It really happens.
I think I’ve said this before: I wonder if we pray for Muslims as much as we pray for cheaper gas.
The world is like a Japanese bunraku play, in which black-garbed puppeteers stand on a stage and manipulate dolls that represent characters. We see the people in the world, and we see their actions. But the dark forces that drive them are more obscure, as they desire to be. And often we attack the puppets and ignore the puppeteers. That is what I’ve been doing.
I did not make my stories up to get attention. I will never earn a dime from them. They will not help my writing career. I’m telling the truth. I almost hate to ask people to believe, because we have all believed so many things, only to find out we’ve been lied to. I hate to ask anyone to try one more time. But I hope someone out there will consider the possibility that I’m not lying and will be inspired to pray that God will help him or her find her way. I can’t defend God or tell you why life isn’t easier. I can’t explain the fact that you can’t have Him the way you want Him. I’m not a preacher. I do not have the answers. But I can promise you that He exists and that He cares, and that sometimes He takes dramatic steps to prove Himself to people. If the deal seems unfair to you, try to have faith that God knows better than you do. You better take what’s offered and be teachable and make the most of it, because if God is really God, there is no Door Number Two.
You Pay Thousands to Get in, and They Don’t Even Bury You
A while ago, I wrote an entry about mountain climbing. I was disgusted to learn that many people who climb mountains refuse to help other people when they get in trouble, even when helping isn’t necessarily dangerous. And I mentioned someone I knew, who died on Mount Everest. I had only heard the story secondhand; there was no information available on the web, either, so I couldn’t learn anything new.
For some reason, I just Googled it again, and there is new information, and it turns out what I was told was right. It happened on a day in late summer, in the Nineties. He and his group were taking what is known as the northern route, without Sherpas or oxygen. He died in what is described as “a crevasse accident,” while climbing alone.
I had heard that his death was caused by his refusal to take advice; that he had wandered off from the group, knowing it was dangerous. But it was just gossip.
I decided to look into the safety rules for climbing. I knew there had to be some. And here is what I found. A nearly endless number of sites repeat the same thing: “never climb alone.” That certainly makes sense to me. People die on high mountains, even when they have plenty of capable companions. Climbing alone almost seems like evidence of a death wish.
What an awful thought. He must be up there right now, mummified in a dark, frozen crevasse, still wearing his climbing gear. He’ll be there as long as Everest stands. And who knows what his death was like? It may have been quick, or it may have taken a day or more. I assume there was no way to help him; the crevasses up there can be extremely deep.
It must be horrible, being in a situation like that, knowing you did it to yourself, and that no one is going to help you, and that all you have to look forward to is feeling your limbs freeze and then passing out. It has to be even worse, if you know passing climbers can help but choose not to, because–you have to understand–they spent a lot of money on their Everest vacations.
The guy that led the group has a website. He puts up cheery paintings from Tibet and Nepal; some from the year of the accident. Looks like he got over it. It has to be strange, making a living in a field where seeing your customers die unnecessarily is a normal part of the job. If I ran a business where customers routinely died on me, I’d probably look for some other way to pay my bills.
I think the rule for helping alpinists in trouble should go like this: you should be allowed to refuse to help another climber, simply because of the money you’ve spent, PROVIDED you go visit his loved ones afterward, face to face, and explain your decision to them. If you can do that, you’re so crazy you deserve to be excused.
