Someone asked me today--why the disciples didn't write about Jesus sooner, why they waited.  I replied, "They thought he was coming back immediately.  What was there to write about? 

He hadn't overthrown the Roman Government as the people had expected him to do--the Messiah was supposed to come and be King of the Jews of the lineage of David. That didn't happen the way they thought, but He would be coming back soon to reign.  Like, really soon--they thought.

Years later, Luke, a believer, but who had never met Jesus personally, became concerned that the apostles and Christians who had known Jesus were being killed, and their story would be lost. 

So he began to write to a friend, "Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed among us...as they delivered them unto us, who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word; It seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write to you in order...that you might know the certainty of those things in which you have been instructed." In other words, "We have to record the eyewitness accounts.  We have to write this down."

He is the one who wrote the story about the birth, Magi, Herod killing Jewish baby boys, etc. that no one else did.  Luke had to have gotten that story from Jesus' mother.  He said he wanted to tell the story--in order--accurately, by talking to the people who were the closest to Jesus.  Luke got the story down for us to read and got it right.  The other Gospel writers emphasized other things.  

I'm still wading through the book, "Consecutive Gospels."  It is really above my pay grade as a reader.  I haven't given up yet.  The author actually agrees with what I believe about the first Gospel occurrence that takes place, John 1:1.  "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  You can't get any earlier than that.  John goes on to say that everything was created by Him.

The interesting thing about these verses is that he is referring to Jesus as the "Word."  And says that the Word is God. The only other passage I can find that outright calls Jesus "God," is when Thomas falls to his knees as he sees the resurrected Lord and says, "My Lord, and my God." 

Of course, God clothed himself in flesh and became a man.  Jesus was God Himself...it is alluded to again and again in scripture...but nice to see it so clearly spelled out for us. 

John, the apostle--then jumps right into the story he wants to tell.  He skips the birth, linage, and childhood of Jesus, and goes straight to the story of John the Baptist.  But in the Consecutive Gospel, that wouldn't be the next thing.  Next would be the angel speaking to Mary.  I want a book with four columns side by side with the events as they actually occurred.  Many of those columns would be blank as the story unfolds in sequence because the four writers didn't write about the same things. 

 I had quite a hectic, unusual day yesterday.  I flat forgot to post.  Today, I'll just wish you a blessed Thanksgiving.  I'm staying home.  I had someone tell me I was living in fear of Covid.  They obviously don't know me at all.  I would say I am very sensible and cautious.  

I don't remember ever being afraid of anything since my mom used to drag me to the cellar in a tornado warning--and later, when back in Oklahoma by myself with three kids (Ken was in Viet Nam) trying to get them to the cellar by myself when the whistle blew.  Protecting my chicks from possible harm.  The whistle was worse than the storm.

I truly do not like surprises.  I like careful planing so that all outcomes which are negative can be avoided.  That is not fear.  I call that wisdom.

I've lived through too much to be afraid of anything.  The worst thing that can happen to someone is to be stupid--and endanger yourself or others when you could have prevented harm. It disrupts your family's lives. 

I opt for wisdom and prevention.  Perhaps, because I have fifteen or more major scars and stitches on the "container" God put me in, I am careful.  Only one of those scars was an accident. Live and learn. 

I'm headed for heaven one way or another.  God's taken care of that.  I just want to enjoy the here and now without being too difficult for those around me.  Like all older people, I want to take care of myself until the expiration date on the bottom of the carton has expired. 

 

 I don't like being stuck in the house.  But the mayor of Oklahoma City asked all of us to stay put for ten days and not have "in-person" groups.  I'm trying to be a good citizen, as well as not expose myself to the virus.

One of my friends from church who is 93 years old has been in the hospital with it for a month.  He has survived against all odds.  We old timers are in the high risk group.  I don't like the part where people are needing lung transplants.  I do not want to be sick.  I've had my share of that.  It's a bummer.  Staying well is my goal.

My friend Rebecca Perkins sent me three books to read.  She read the blog where I said that I wanted a Consecutive Gospel book.  She found one and mailed it along with two of her favorites from this year.  So I have something to read.  However the Gospel book is for brains and I am having trouble with all of the background information.  I took it to bed with me last night and only got through two or three pages.

I turn the TV on for background noise.  There certainly isn't anything to listen to. My neighbors are keeping me supplied with food.  My friend Jeanette brings me what I need when she goes to the grocery store.

I am so blessed.  I came here four years ago and didn't have any friends in Edmond.  Life is better with friends.  A guy I graduated from high-school with--he lives in Tulsa--calls every now and then, and talks about things he did when were young--that he should have been expelled for--and keeps me laughing.  He is a hoot.  He lived here in Edmond for years, taught at the church I go to, so we know people here in common.  Thank God for telephones, books, computers and Wheel of Fortune and friends!!

 I still have people staying with me.  In all three guest bedrooms.  It's like being in the military again, getting transferred, sleeping on someone's sofa bed--when someone  puts you up until you get housing.

One of the bedrooms has a blow up mattress they found somewhere and brought with them for one of their teenagers to use.

You might not even know the people who are staying with you.  In the Marine Corps, it didn't matter whether you knew them or not.  Everyone took care of everyone else.  By the time you found a house, you ended up being part of your host's family for life.

You don't send them flowers, or candy, or anything else.  You just do the same thing for the next Marine family that needs a place to stay.

Life has been chaotic since the ice storm.  Branches are still lying on the sidewalks.  Still stacked six to eight feet high--but shrinking as they dry out.  And of course, the virus has shut everything down.  

I checked out Facebook today and decided that half the world is nuts.  I think it is a platform to say bad things to people, and even worse, about people and remain anonymous.  I think I've been cooped up too long.

 

I was awakened this morning at five-fifteen by strobe lights.  Police cars, fire truck...I knew what it meant.  My friend Dean across the street had lost an earthly battle and gone to heaven.

He and Jeanine had spent the days during the power loss with me--I had power, they didn't.  He was so sick.  She was so exhausted.

Dying is an unruly affair.  Those who love you keep trying to help you with the struggle you are going through...oxygen, morphine shots, but it is an unruly ballet with doctors, nurses, health care workers...

It is hard to watch.

For the ones left behind, there is a chasm, a moment of "...what am I supposed to be doing now that this is over..."  A period of disorientation.  Everything you've been doing for weeks and weeks suddenly stops.

People bring food because they don't know what else to do.

When you lose your life partner, you have to reinvent yourself.  You don't belong to anyone special anymore.  My friend Jeanine is going to start a new journey.  It's not an easy one...but over time...you learn the "aloneness" part of your vow, "Til death do us part..."

 

 The young man--Stephen Draper--that stopped by and cut up and stacked my oak limbs--now has Covid. He was just out helping people. He has a four year old little boy as well as a daughter.  He says every breath feels like he is inhaling a blowtorch of fire.  He's a photographer for Channel 9.

Jay, the man two doors down from me, went to Texas to help his older parents.  They had Covid.  His father was subsequently hospitalized and died.  Jay caught the virus and has been on a ventilator down in Texas for over a month.  He passed away yesterday.  

Jay is the man that showed up at three in the morning because I thought someone was breaking into my house.  I had never met him but a neighbor I called, called Jay--who had a gun, inspected the house and premises and declared everything was ok.  I had a raccoon in the attic!!!  We have been friends ever since.  It makes me so sad to lose my neighbor.  He was one of the good guys.  Too young to die from Covid.

I was headed to the book store yesterday to get a copy of the chronological Gospels.  I want to read the four Gospels in the order things occurred.  I was talking to my brother Bill (doctor) and he said, "Don't go to the bookstore.  Don't."  He said the virus was out of control right now and exposure was almost guaranteed.  I didn't go.  I can wait two months for the vaccine.  Better safe (for a couple of months) than sorry--or dead.