New Fields to Tend

Each year, a few Salvation Army Officers are reappointed to new fields of work. Leaving the familiar and the investment they have made in the lives of those they have served. How that becomes part of Gods' plan for His kingdom can be aided by the things we do to encourage or discourage.


"One Plants, Another Waters, God gives the increase"


Lift up your eyes , the fields are ready ,
Needing hearts that are willing and hands that are steady.

The same Master,and King who owns land,sun,and seed
Who speaks ever gently, yet commands us indeed

"Other fields I have,where the skills of your hand
Are the need of a place that without you now stands."

Obedient,we move at the Masters strong voice,
Leaving family and friends; we’re surrendered by choice.

We leave pathways familiar that are traveled by heart
To a place new,..untried,…..unknown,……set apart .

The only thing certain, is He that is known,
And will stand right beside us,for we are His own.

And no man can take us from that strong, pierced hand.
For the place that He leads is His own hallowed land.
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There may be new officers coming into the circles of life in which you travel; make them welcome, open doors of hospitality and friendship. Paint the pictures of joy and success that surround them in this new place. Don't prejudice them by sharing the negative. "Don't give bad news ....any legs to travel"
Christ's plan was that the world would know we are His, by the way we love each other. NT definition of love, has to do with "hopes (in)all things" and "does not rejoice iniquity" . Share blessing, not gloom.

Sunday Afternoon Fighting Words

One of The Best Quotes of the Day

"Do you think that those songs that talk of filth, violence, and sleazy sex are new , original and groundbreaking ?? They are none of that !"

“ They came from the stinking, slimy , snake pit , of Sodom and Gomorrah “!

( And when was the last time you remember a Sunday Afternoon, Challenge to the cadets’ being interrupted 9 times by enthusiastic applause??)

Lessons by a Lake

About 7:45 we finally made it to the lake by the lodge ..... We had spent 10 minutes digging in the wood chips pile for fresh worms .... Zach was excited to go fishing and even more when he began to spot the worms before I could, and found he could grab them quick enough before they disappeard into the loose wood chips and bark shavings that were piled high.

Good fat worms, from a mulch pile are always lively and good bait . Proud of his cup of worms , he launched off to the dock he had already declared was his place to fish from.

After getting the worm on the hook , Zach showed off his skill at casting , which we had practiced the day before by the flagpole and playground .... he did well in getting the tackle into the water although not exactly where he wanted it ... but good enough to catch a little blue gill (sunfish) on his first try.... he saw the bobber sink, set the hook and reeled the fish in, all by himself..... Pretty proud and happy when he saw the little fish ..... I tried to get him to hold it and when it spiked him he yelled and droppped it , then bent his finger back until he could get a small drop fo blood and a lot of symapthy for his injury....or at least he tried too.......

His second fish was a big , 10 inch sunfish ....bright with gold color on the bottom and all the blues and greeens on the side scales that gave it a real great look..... his eyes got big and he started yelling wow...look at the size of that .... its a big one Grand pa .....can we keep it to show my Daddy .... He then ran into the lodge to get Grand ma to come out an see it .... I could hear him all the way inside the lodge coaxing Grandma out with .... You should see it ,./...it's really big .... and I caught it all by myself..... onto the stringer and save it to show Dad later .....

One more little fish made up the nights catch before it started to get darker .... Grand ma came out to say 5 more minutes Grandpa and Zach .... then bed..... We baited up the hook ...waited for a bite ... and I decided it was time to teach him that when fireflys come out at night the fish know its time to go to bed .... and we should be at least as smart as the fish and know its time for us to got to bed too.....

It was one of those points where I was reminded again that I do not remember life in chronological order , or as a recited litany of facts ......but in moments of time, in laughter and the excitment of life , moments well spent , invested in living life...with those you love.... making dents and impressions in eternity, timeless strokes on the canvas of memory.

Flowers Grow In The City

Batty Hattie, they call her, as she waits in line for the hot food from our soup van’s serving window. “Crazy as a loon …..and a thief too” that’s’ what they say about her to our workers who nightly visit the streets of the city.

She wears dated but dressy, church hats, from the thrift shop. The kind you see on older black matriarchs as they go to Ebenezer Baptist on Sunday….Except these have street dirt and years of dust layered on the felt and satin ribbon. Along with her tattered man’s sport coat, (“big pockets”), they form her street clothes ensemble.

“Gave up her own children, so she could walk around the streets talking to herself and screaming at the passing cars” the street wise said, “Don’t mess wit her” “she’ll cut you soon as look at you” they warned us when she first started coming around .“Threw her out of the psycho ward for threatening the Dr’s”.

“Where do you sleep?”, one of our staff ask her when she didn’t’ list an address on the meal sheet. No answer,….. just the vacant stare of one who is somewhere else…….. Somewhere you can’t touch her with your words.

One night getting her helping of rice, stew and vegetables, gravy splashed onto her hand…. Volunteer Carol quickly took her hand and gently wiped the warm gravy from her knuckles and wrist , their eyes met…..and somewhere, from that distant place, eyes lit with the warmth of a human touch ………………. “Thank You”,… spoke a soft quiet voice that none of us had ever heard from Hattie…. Wise beyond her 28 years, Carol smiled and said, “You’re very welcome, Hattie”,…..Can we sit down and just talk?”.

That’s how we got to actually see Hattie’s place….. in the midst of cracked cement walks and the mud lawns of the projects, that hadn’t seen grass in years….. there was a somewhat still-slightly-white, little piece of dollar store fence that bordered a tiny garden….no food growing, (it wouldn’t last till it was ripe in that neighborhood), ..… just flowers crowded between the building wall and the cement curb of the dumpster.

Nothing you’d see at the Home and Garden Expo, No their beauty far exceeds pampered, sheltered “miracle grow” blossoms; for they reflect the beauty of a soul that, though hidden, will not die, and somehow still clings to memories of beauty.

I wish I could tell you that Hattie has turned her life around, become an upstanding citizen , a “success” story. But I cannot, …. In a crowd, she still gets the little “right of way path” of a “crazy woman”. Still dines, sidewalk café , at the Army van.

But she has found a place, where she can sit down for a few moments, let the wildness fade from her eyes and talk to another human being. She lets us touch, gently; the soul that still lives deep inside, nourished by a small patch of beauty next to a dumpster.

We pray that the seeds of serving , sown in the form of Christ-like love, will blossom someday into a new creation in her life. Until then….we talk, pray, and serve meat gravy over rice…..in faith.