'Not a Square Inch'

9.6.25

When We Lose a Furry Friend

Several years ago, we became the custodial ‘parents’ of a female Chesapeake Bay Retriever puppy. Her name was Daisy. She was beautiful with auburn fur and steely yellowish eyes. She lived her life traveling at hyper-speed. She was busy and curious and she was a focused and incessant chaser of tennis balls. Man, she was fast! I’d no sooner let fly out of the ball launcher and she’d have chased it down, returned, and dropped it by my feet for another round. She was a bundle of energy. Then one day it happened…. Even though still a young dog she began to slow down and became lethargic. The tennis balls had nowhere near the attraction. She slept more than normal. There was something wrong.

When we took her to the vet the diagnosis was dire. She was failing fast. She had massive kidney failure. It wasn’t but a short time and the kidney disease took her life. Daisy was gone. I was devastated. Our family took it very hard. A hole was left where Daisy once held a firm and secure place.

If you’ve ever heard Chris Stapleton’s, Maggie’s Song, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Chris sings about a dog named Maggie, a stray castaway that makes her way into a place of love and prominence in the Stapleton household. If you’ve ever had a pet that you loved, the song will certainly resonate.

This past week we said goodbye to another family friend. We only knew him for a short time, but my daughter and son-in-law recently acquired a male Anatolian/Great Pyrenees pup to raise on their farm. His name was Vern. He was purposefully acquired to help keep the enemies of their farm animals at bay. Vern was a character…all legs and feet and energy enough for a small pack of dogs. Vern would play hard and crash hard. When he was done playing you could find him sound asleep somewhere. In a tragic accident Vern’s brief life was cut short. It was a farm accident that could not have been prevented. Now Vern is gone, and for such a young pup he’d already made an impact on those that knew him. Losing a beloved animal is hard.

Thinking recently about Daisy, and Maggie, and Vern I was reminded of a quote from British author C.S. Lewis. In a book entitled The Four Loves, Lewis says this:

“There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

There’s something about the connectedness and love we feel with beloved pets, whether it be a dog, or a cat, or a horse, or something other, and to lose them leaves us yearning for their company. We’re often overcome with grief and sorrow for their loss.

Part of the reason for our grief is the recognition that death is an intruder. It’s not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s interesting that the Apostle Paul calls death, ‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed….” The Christian faith does not obfuscate grief and sorrow, and certainly death. The Christian faith addresses these things square on. The loss of our furry friends is excruciatingly difficult, but the Christian faith speaks of a future, full of hope, and without tears (Revelation 21:4). The Christian faith is anti-Gnostic. In other words, people matter, dogs matter, cats matter, and even matter matters.

For now, as Christians, we grieve. We thank God for the joy that dogs and cats and every sort of animal brings into our life, and yet knowing with certainty that death will not have the final say. The Author and Creator of life cares about even the smallest sparrow that falls (Matthew 10:29). And surely, He cares for Daisy, Maggie, and Vern.

Dan and Judy Morse live near Prineville, Oregon. Over the years Dan has done bi-vocational work, church planting, and served as a senior pastor in several churches. He now serves with InFaith, a ministry that assists small and rural churches. He can be reached at danjmorse@icloud.com

25.5.25

Memory - the Handmaid of Hope

MEMORY is very often the servant of despondency. Despairing minds call to remembrance every dark foreboding in the past, and every gloomy feature in the present. Memory stands like a handmaiden, clothed in sackcloth, presenting to her master a cup of mingled gall and wormwood. Like Mercury, she hastes, with winged heel, to gather fresh thorns with which to fill the uneasy pillow, and to bind fresh rods with which to scourge the already bleeding heart. There is, however, no necessity for this. Wisdom will transform memory into an angel of comfort. That same recollection which may in its left hand bring so many dark and gloomy omens, may be trained to bear in its right hand a wealth of hopeful signs. She need not wear a crown of iron, she may encircle her brow with a fillet of gold, all spangled with stars. When Christian, according to Bunyan, was locked up in Doubting Castle, memory formed the crab-tree cudgel with which the famous giant beat his captives so terribly. They remembered how they had left the right road, how they had been warned not to do so, and how in rebellion against their better selves, they wandered into By-path Meadow. They remembered all their past misdeeds, their sins, their evil thoughts and evil words, and all these were so many knots in the cudgel, causing sad bruises and wounds in their poor suffering persons. But one night, according to Bunyan, this same memory which had scourged them, helped to set them free; for she whispered something in Christian’s ear, and he cried out as one half amazed, “What a fool am I to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my bosom, called Promise; that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle.” So he put his hand into his bosom, and with much joy he plucked out the key, and thrust it into the lock; and though the lock of the great iron gate, as Bunyan says, “went damnable hard,” yet the key did open it, and all the others too; and so, by this blessed act of memory, poor Christian and Hopeful were set free.

- Charles Spurgeon, Memory, the Handmaid of Hope (Lamentations 3:21), 1865, MTP

23.5.25

All Hail the Conqu'ring King -

“Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

– Philippians 2:12-13

"Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurp'd town to'another due, Labor to'admit you, but oh, to no end; Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly'I love you, and would be lov'd fain, But am betroth'd unto your enemy; Divorce me,'untie or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me."
-John Donne (1572-1631)

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet, Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it, Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit, Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit, Here Thy praises I'll begin;

Here I raise my Ebenezer; Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger, Interposed His precious blood;

How His kindness yet pursues me, Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me, I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor, daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning, I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen, How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;

Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry Me to realms of endless day.
- Robert Robinson (c. 1758)

“Sin stands in contrariety to God. It is rebellion against his sovereignty, an opposition to his holiness, a provocation to his justice, a rejection of his yoke, a casting off, what lies in the sinner, of that dependence which a creature hath on its Creator. That God then should have pity and compassion upon sinners, in every one of whose sins there is all this evil, and inconceivably more than we can comprehend, it argues an infinitely gracious, good, and loving heart and nature in him; for God doth nothing but suitably to the properties of his nature and from them. All the acts of his will are the effects of his nature.”
- John Owen (1616-1683), Works, Vol. 6, Temptation and Sin, The True Nature of Gospel Forgiveness, p. 399

Dear Christian Friends,

How grateful I am for the persistent and effective work of the Holy Spirit. He can do what none other can do. He can (and determines to) change me into something other than I am by nature. The Holy Spirit is the glad and willing accomplice in effectually applying the work of redemption to my heart and life, and without the work of the Spirit there is no hope of ever being changed. In other words, without the aid of the Holy Spirit this leopard cannot change his spots (Jer. 13:23). Without His work I would ever and always be carried along on a perpetual merry-go-round of destructive fleshly appetites and disparaging besetting sins. To be sure there is a battle to be engaged, but I am profoundly grateful for the enemy’s sure vanquishing by the Conqu’ring King. If this process were left up to me alone I would be in deep weeds. The cross and the resurrection are the signum (seal) that this battle has ultimately been won. Christ is victor. The immediate and real ‘death to life’ regeneration of the Christian and the gradual sanctifying change from the ways of death to the ways of life is the special provenance of the Third Person of the Trinity. The Holy Spirit effectually applies the work of Christ by transforming us from darkness to light. What an amazing and glorious Triune God! Think of this - the character of particular love that sent the Savior to the Cross for our sins is the same character of the Holy Spirit in assuredly changing us from one degree of glory to another. God is committed to ultimate salvation wrought for His people that will be thoroughgoing, pervasive, and complete. Emmanuel will save His people from their sins.

The gospel is the good news that Christ is the Conqu’ring King and of His Kingdom there shall be no end. This gives us great hope as we look to the immediate future and beyond.

"We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign.” – Revelation 11:17

I'm a glad subject together with you under the rule of the Conqu’ring King.

- DJM

3.5.25

Becoming Born Again

In John 3 a story is told of a Jewish ruler named Nicodemus coming to see Jesus at night. There is no need to think that Nicodemus was trying to avoid detection. This could be the case as a Pharisee and ruler, but it could very well be that he was looking to talk with Jesus undisturbed. He addresses Jesus with civility and respect. He calls Him a rabbi and affirms Jesus is sent from God. Nicodemus points to Jesus’ miraculous signs as a confirmation that Jesus was no ordinary man. Notice the sobriety of Jesus’ language, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." By using the words ‘truly, truly’ Jesus is making this statement as a declaration of truth. Jesus is inferring that His statement carries with it authority and the burden of truth. It is if He is saying, ‘This is to be believed, you must be born again to see the Kingdom.’

If Jesus is to be believed then the new birth is necessary to see the Kingdom of God. No new birth, no kingdom. It is that simple. To avoid any confusion for Nicodemus, the original language carries the sense of being born from above. This is not natural generation. This is not birth that comes about by a natural relationship between a man and a woman. Nicodemus did not get this from being born into a nice Jewish family. Nicodemus had every natural advantage for being a shoo-in into the Kingdom. He had lineage, he had theological training, he had recognition, he had years in temple worship, he had everything going for him, and yet Jesus speaks to him plainly…you must be born again. Something must take place that is akin to the trauma of childbirth. In other words, Nicodemus, you must be made new. To see Jesus Christ for Who He is you must become a new man.

Jesus was not impressed with Nicodemus’ civility or his appearance of religion. He was not impressed with Nicodemus’ recognition of Jesus’ sign-producing capabilities. Jesus knew what was in Nicodemus. This ought to be very sobering for us. What Jesus is looking for is a complete revolution. To see the Kingdom of God was to see God’s King and Nicodemus was still blind. He was willing to confer niceties on Jesus and His ministry, but He could not see who Jesus truly was. Nicodemus needed a complete transformation characterized by the Kingdom of God itself. He needed to meet the Kingdom’s King. He needed to be introduced to the only One who is able to perform miraculous signs. He needed a wholesale revolution of thinking and being. He needed a complete reorientation or recalibration of everything he knew. He needed to be born again.

You can well imagine Nicodemus’ next thought. If I must be born again, if I must be transformed how must it be done? After all, I’m a man acquainted with doing. My whole life has been one of doing. My identity is bound up in my doing. But how do I become reborn? How does one start over? I am an old man and the prospect of entering in again to my mother’s womb is preposterous and yet this is precisely Jesus’ approach. Nicodemus must have thought, if what Jesus says is true then I am hopeless and helpless to do this on my own. Nicodemus did not understand that the nature of being born again is so radical and so transformative that unless the Spirit of God brings it, it will not happen. It isn’t simply a matter of praying the sinner’s or understanding four spiritual laws and filling out a card. Conversion must come from outside of us. It is something the sovereign Spirit must do. It is impossible for Nicodemus to do. It is something only God can do. Only God can create life. Only God can give sight to the blind. Only God can raise the dead. Jesus uses the language of impossibility.

What Nicodemus needed was to be made completely new. His entire way of thinking, doing, and speaking must be radically changed. If you are a Christian then what you have experienced in the new birth is radical, pervasive, and transformational. This is nothing less than the Old Testament’s language from Ezekiel of hearts of stone being replaced by hearts of flesh. Nicodemus, once you see the Kingdom for what it really is, and once you see the King for Who He is, you will not be the same person. You simply cannot be! You will still struggle with sin, but what has happened in the new birth is nothing less than a Copernican revolution.

When the Spirit regenerates, or makes new, the result is nothing short of being made alive from the dead. A new nature is given. Old things become past things. Old sins no longer have the power they once had. Thinking becomes different. Seeing becomes different. Speaking becomes different. Jesus Christ is no longer given polite assent. Jesus Christ becomes Lord. The old is gone and the new has come.

Friends, much of what passes for acceptable Christianity is not really Christianity in the true, biblical sense. Much of what passes for acceptable Christianity is Christianity that has not experienced the transforming work of the sovereign Spirit of God. We’re tempted to settle for much less, but God wants to make us new. His desire is that we are truly reborn. What does God want to do here in Central Oregon? He wants to make you new. What does God want to do in your home? He wants to make it new. What does God want to do in your interaction with your neighbors and friends? He wants to plant you as a regenerated, transformed member of the Kingdom square in the middle of it to show the transforming power of both the Kingdom and the King. But first it won’t come without a radical, pervasive and transforming work of the Spirit.

2.3.25

Time to Grow Up

It’s a lazy, drizzly Sunday afternoon here at the ranch, one of those kinds of days that easily could use an investment in a nap. As I sit typing this, and behind me on a multi-shelved rack, is a recent project; I’ve taken on an experiment of growing almost 200 Ponderosa Pine (Pinus Ponderosa) trees from seeds. During our Christmas tree outing after last Thanksgiving, I picked up some pine cones near Ochoco Pass. I’ve never done this before but I dried out the cones and harvested the seeds from their interior.

They say the best time to plant a tree was 30 years ago, and the second-best time is today. Some have thought my efforts at growing seeds and planting trees a fool’s errand. After all, I’m an old man now and I’ll surely never see these Ponderosa’s in their regal glory. It turns out, I’m not planting them for me, I’m planting them for the future, that another generation may see their regal glory.

Looking over my shoulder, the seeds have begun to sprout. The seedlings have found their way through the potting soil and have begun their reach toward the window. They’re kind of cute and chock full of promise. Their delicate fronds look like miniature green drink umbrellas. It’s kind of funny, but I find myself checking on ‘my babies’ with too-frequent regularity.

In the book of Genesis, God’s creative fiat is seen in the newly-created world, teeming with vivacity and vitality…all around, it’s life on steroids. In fact, much of the initial Genesis narrative takes place within a verdant garden, created by God (and ex nihilo no less!), and tended by the world’s first man and woman. There’s something about new life and a garden that warrants God’s approbation (Genesis 1:12) in the Genesis story. Growing these seeds into young trees has got me thinking about God’s creative fiat and the Christian life.

When seeds are planted by a gardener, the intention is that they will grow. For every farmer that plants a crop, he looks forward to an autumn harvest. In the Bible, the garden motif is strong. In fact, Jesus uses the gardener analogy with frequency (Mt. 13, Jn. 15). The crucifixion took place in a garden (Jn. 19), and, post-resurrection, Jesus was even mistaken for a gardener (John 20). In many ways God’s posture toward His people is that of a master gardener. Psalm 1 speaks of God’s righteous one as being like a tree, planted by water, and yielding fruit. Even the essential work of the Holy Spirit in every Christian is classified as ‘fruit.’

When the Apostle Paul writes to the Ephesian church, he encourages them to ‘grow up’ into Christ, and the point he is making is a good one. He is encouraging the Ephesian believers to mature, to take seriously their call to grow from seedlings to strong trees that stand tall. They are to grow up into Christ, and slowly but surely take on the regal familial resemblance of their Lord and Savior. For the Christian, God is a gardener, and by the effectual advocacy and work of the Holy Spirit, He’s telling each one of us (like the Ponderosa Pine seeds planted in fresh, damp soil), it’s time to grow up.