Friday, June 27, 2025

The Most Significant Lesson Learned


 Life Brings The Test & We Learn The Lesson ~  

School Gives Lessons & We Learn The Test

By Deb Moken


Monday, October 7, 2024

Psalm 100 Realized


 

Psalm 100 Realized

by Deb Moken


Had an interesting experience at church this morning during our time of praise and worship.  Gonna try to convey with words, what I believe was taking place in Heaven’s unseen realm.


Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.

Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.


What began as a sacrifice of praise (more on the ‘why’ of that later), became something I’ve never experienced before.  The sacrifice, graciously received by The One Whose praises were being declared, granted entrance into a holy, sacred place. 


Enter into his gates with thanksgiving… 


Like the Tabernacle of Moses or Jerusalem’s Temple illustrates, there is a progression; first through the gate. There is only one. And Jesus, oddly enough,  referred to Himself as The Gate in John 10:9. This area contained the altar of sacrifice where sins and transgressions were dealt with, to which all had access.  


…and into his courts with praise:... 


As a person heads West, past the brazen altar, there is an enclosed place. The barrier between the outer court and this sacred inner court was a door.  There is only one. And Jesus, oddly enough, referred to Himself as The Door in John 10:7.  This Court of Treaty housed the seven branched candlestick (Menorah) on the left, the table of showbread on the right, and in the center was the altar of incense which represented the prayers of the people.  Only priests had access to this sacred place.

  

…be thankful unto him, and bless his name.


Oddly enough, because of His Sacrifice on that cross, Jesus authorized us to be priests unto God in Revelation 1:6.  


For the LORD is good; …


And that brings us, in this mini Tabernacle/Temple tour, to the Most Holy Place a.k.a. The Holy of Holies.  A massive barricade separated the Inner Court (of Treaty) from this Holiest of all Inner Chamber.  A veil*. There is only one.  And, oddly enough, Jesus is referred to as The Veil in Hebrews 10:20.  


This veil was torn from top to bottom at the time of Christ’s crucifixion, to show the world that humans could, once again, have an intimate relationship with God.


…his mercy is everlasting;...


This room contained The Ark of The Covenant, which held the stone tablets of the law, a container of the manna Heaven miraculously provided, while the Israelites waited four decades for permission to enter the land promised them, and a rod God caused to bud with new life overnight in an effort to squelch an uprising against His anointed High Priest.  The lid of this trove of Heaven’s treasures was a solid gold work of art; two winged angels facing one another arched over the center. God named this lid The Mercy Seat and promised it to be the place where He’d meet with His creation.  Exodus 25:22  


-Back to this morning’s experience -


Ten days ago, hurricane Helene made landfall and at this writing, this deadly storm has cut a 500 mile swath of unimaginable devastation.  Lives, too soon and numerous to count, have at best, been upended; at worst, completely annihilated.  After 10 days, hopeful life rescue efforts have devolved into heart wrenching identification endeavors. Mind-numbing, soul-crushing stuff. This is what my mind hauled into church this morning.  


As we sang, I was very aware that the words were a sacrifice of praise being lifted up to Heaven, but the sacrifice wasn’t mine. It wasn’t the congregation’s sacrifice either.  We were standing, singing, offering praise for those too weak, devastated, broken and crushed to do so on their own.  We weren’t only praying for our unknown siblings in Christ, we were standing in their stead, offering their sacrifices of praise. 


I have no idea what that means.  I just know that it is. 


…and his truth endureth to all generations.



*Early Jewish tradition described this veil as being as thick as a man’s hand.


Thursday, May 18, 2023

It's Puzzling
By Deb Moken 



I’ve been an orphan for nearly a month now.  Finally started sleeping through the night last week.  To say Dad or his memory haunted my dreams would not be accurate.  No, it wasn’t that, not that I’m an expert on the subject of hauntings and the haunted -  necromancy is not a thing I care to participate in - but to say my Dad dominated every non-waking hour for over 2 weeks would be fairly accurate.  

 Dreams don’t usually accompany my sleep, at least not that I am consciously aware of.  This was an unforeseen, inescapable, mysterious turn of events.  Nothing frightening or sad.  Nothing that could qualify as a memory or a regret… just innumerable particles of what, I knew instinctively, were connected to my dad. Somehow. Someway.

 I’m throwing this into print because:

a) it helps clarify the cacophony running amuck behind my eyes and between my ears, and

b) I’m curious to know if anyone else has had a similar experience.

 The dreams felt like being under a waterfall of puzzle pieces, too many to comprehend, let alone number.  Countless pieces each unique in shape and size.  I’d wake up several times a night feeling perplexed and overwhelmed; and in the morning, exhausted.

 I needed wisdom.  Thankfully, there’s an open invitation for just such a request.

 “Help me Lord.  I’m not ‘getting’ it.  What are these incessant dreams trying to communicate?”

 And just like that - the understanding began to penetrate.

 If an idea (i.e. dream) is, in fact, God breathed, and a human takes action to see it realized, does it not seem logical that the dream might possibly remain when the human departs?

 Those fragmented particles weren’t mine, but Dad’s dream(s).  I suspect the fragmentation represent the fractured incapability his mind struggled with the past 15 years or so. But maybe not.  Perhaps all Heavenly inspired enterprises fall back on the Earth like glitter or confetti at a ticker-tape parade.

   Regardless, what I came to realize is that, although he is no longer here, a person’s dream might, quite possibly remain.  

 Seems plausible.

 When Elisha asked his mentor, Elijah, to bequeath him God’s prophetic mantle, Elijah knew he didn’t have the authority to do so, but told Elisha if he should happen to witness Elijah’s exit from this life that would confirm the prophetic ministry had been entrusted to him.   

 I don’t know what Dad’s dream(s) entailed.  I do know he set out to build a farm that would sustain his family, and do so honestly and within his means, not use others as stepping stones to ascend a mountain of public approval or recognition.  

 When that information finished downloading into my heart and mind, I asked the Lord to relay a message to Dad.  

 “Jesus, please tell Dad that his life mattered.  That his dream will, in some form, carry on.  I cannot say what it will look like when those who pick up the pieces begin to reassemble them, but knowing his family, we will attempt to do so in a way that honors and adds to his legacy while attempting to build our own.”

 That night, and every night since, I’ve slept in peace.  I believe the message was relayed.   

 

 

Saturday, May 6, 2023

Celebration of Life - Some Things Just Go Without Saying

Celebration of Life 
Some things just go without saying
By Deb Moken

I don’t recall ever hearing my Dad say the words, “I love you.”   Some things just go without saying.  But there comes a time when it seems necessary to put words to the unspoken laws of one’s world - and that, in part, is what today is about.  

Every person here will have a different perspective, different relationship, and possibly a completely contrary take on my Dad - and that’s ok - but this is from the eyes of his daughter, and one that was solidified long before dementia’s talons had taken hold.

While pondering this day, a verse in Corinthians floated to the forefront of my mind.  The one in chapter 8 that says: love builds up.  Well, for goodness sakes, I realized that’s the kind of love I grew up experiencing from my Dad!  He had built with the tools of love!  And when I jumped over to chapter 13 - the famous love-is chapter - more popular at weddings than funerals - with that idea in mind, and it became easy to see how I could articulate the unspoken.

My dad showed me love by building me up.  When I read that love is patient, I was reminded of the wedding we’d gone to, arriving after it had started because being on time for events scheduled during milking time… well you know, can’t happen.  

We got there near the end of the ceremony and found seats in the back row of the overflow area. While waiting;  Dad, patiently and me not so much ‘cuz I was pretty sure the cream-cheese mints were going to be gone before we’d get the go-ahead-it’s-your-turn usher’s nod - Dad just shot me his lopsided grin, shrugged a shoulder and said, “Somebody has to be last.”   AND HE WAS OKAY WITH IT! That look and those 5 words taught me, in that moment, life’s not about jockeying for position, or that being last means you loose.  Being last affords a view, a perspective that constitutes a win from a different kind of game.  

Love is kind.  The healthiest environment for growth is one that encourages wonder and discovery.  One of the quickest ways to stop a person from becoming all that their Creator intended, is to demean, belittle, ridicule, and diminish the value of faltering first steps and failed attempts. To do so would be cruel, unkind, and very short-sighted. I don’t ever recall hearing dad speak disparagingly to me. Ever.  Cruelty and fault-finding had no place in what he was working to build.

Love does not boast and is not prideful.  Dad did have an intolerance for braggarts and self exalters. If something was going to stand, it was to do so on its own merit, not propped up by hot air.  He preferred proof by actions and elbow grease.   But, when any of us kids managed a purple ribbon in 4-H, we were rewarded with a family road-trip to the state fair in Huron, an understood consequence for an accomplishment well done.

A love that builds does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking, and keeps no record of wrongs.  This requires confidence.  A knowing who you are, what your life is about.  A farmer’s life is a calling.  Like any other calling from God, it has enormous value and purpose, though often unrecognized, and under-appreciated.  But a person, confident in their worth, knows their calling isn’t validated by popular vote. It’s not built by tearing  others down, self-seeking, or tipping the scales that say I’m better than you.  Dad didn’t validate his life with comparisons.

 Not easily angered - when talking about my Dad, this tool deserves a paragraph all its own.  As a counselor, I learned that anger is often a secondary emotion, one that we unconsciously adopt to protect the more vulnerable, less understood ones.  Before things started to unravel in his world, I don’t think I could have filled a single hand with accounts of seeing outbursts of anger especially ones directed at other human beings.  Stubborn, kicking cows, that’s another issue.  

 A builder in love always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres.   As a man who took his role seriously, I believe the charge to protect was one of the final issues we dealt with.  And as we held hands, those final hours, I told him how much I appreciated him and all he had been to me, that he had honored his call, and performed well his duties as my protector, and that I had asked The Lord to step into that role,  when he was no longer with us on this side of Heaven.  I said, Dad, I release you, from the responsibility of being my protector, and  he instantly let go of my hand.  30 hours later, he was safely in the hands of The Lord.  

 His practical, craftsmanship has been something I’ve not yet mastered, but intend to practice till the day we’re together again.    

 Having you as my Dad made it easy to trust in a Heavenly Father.  In my eyes, you represented Him very well.  Thank you.

Friday, January 6, 2023

Who Is My Brother?

By Deb Moken

 There’s no denying that Jesus was a one-man revolution.  To dig into his teachings is like mining for gold or precious gems.  I stumbled on one such gem this week in Matthew 5.  A familiar portion of His inaugural message:

21Ye have heard that it was said unto them of the old time, Thou shalt not kill: for whosoever killeth shall be culpable of judgment. 22 But I say unto you, whosoever is angry with his brother unadvisedly, shall be culpable of judgment. And whosoever saith unto his brother, Raca, shall be worthy to be punished by the Council. And whosoever shall say, Fool, shall be worthy to be punished with hell fire.  (GNV)

 Admittedly, I was tempted, as is so often the case, to tell myself that because I know what it says I understand what it means.  Maybe not so much.

     “Who’s your brother?”

     “Um, well… ah…. I know that means everybody.  ‘Brother’ is synonymous with all humanity.”  

     “Really?”

     “Well, I think so.”

     “Making bold strokes with a broad brush.  Idealistic.  How about you reign it in a bit.”

     “Ok, I have 2 brothers: Rick and Ken.“

     “Oh, Deb.  Who. Is. Your, Brother?”

     “You Lord.  You are my Brother.”

     “Bingo!  Now, read it again with more specificity.”  

    If I am unjustifiably angry with you, Jesus, it’s because I am guilty of having pronounced, through short-sighted ignorance, a judgment.

     “Good.  Continue”

    If I think so little of you that your words, ways, and teachings are deemed worthless and of no significant value to me, I am guilty of accepting and giving worthless counsel.

     “Go on.”

 And if I believe you are a deceived deceiver, I am, myself deceived by the deception of hell itself.

Now, there’s some thoughts worth chewing on.  

 We are given a glimpse into what that looks like in Luke 22.    

 Peter is so angry with Jesus, he denies ever having known Him.

 Judas decided that  Jesus was a worthless waste of time and resources, so sells Him out for 30 pieces of silver to the…

Governing body who believed that He was a deceiver leading the ignorant masses down a deceptive path (away from their control), so they killed Him.  

    From where I sit, that seems to describe the state of society lately.  And it explains the process of its devolution.  Starts out by simply being ignorantly and unjustifiably angry with the Lord.  That paves the way to believing His ways are worthless and of no value to you or anyone else.  From there, it’s a short trip to swapping name-tags between the actual deceiver (satan) and The Way, The Truth, and The Life (Jesus).

    How do we find our way back?  Eph. 4 spells it out pretty clearly. And I think Paul knew what he was talking about, being one who was firmly ensconced in the anger-worthless-killer trap in his early years.  

 

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Reunion



This morning a former constant-companion greeted my waking moments.  It was a tearful reunion. 

Several years ago we suffered an unexpected, abrupt separation rendering me confused and more than a little sad.  We first became acquainted in 1988.  She had so much to say, but no voice with which to speak or audience willing to listen.  I became her audience occasionally putting pen to paper attempting to give voice to her words. This forged  a mutually satisfying, collaborative partnership, which I assumed secured an unbreachable bond.  I was mistaken.  Something happened, I don’t know exactly what, but my heart had gone silent causing an acute, and I feared terminal, case of writer’s block.

 I can’t speak for other writers, I don’t know their process, but this has been mine: listen to what my heart wants to say.  The mind already knows what it thinks but the heart offers another perspective - neither are infallible, but when Mind and Heart work together it makes for a richer experience with a more satisfying outcome.  Heart brings the emotional perspective.  Heart is the place that has the ability to hear God, and conveys that communication in a way that Mind can understand.  Sometimes that’s just a bit more than Mind wants to deal with but when something is too important to ignore Heart insists on taking the helm. Hence this morning’s wake-up call.

My dad is dying.  He is, as I write this,  confined to a bed in the Hospice unit at Fort Meade Veterans Hospital.  A seizure last month has robbed him of what physical strength he had left.  Talking and eating are now enormous energy expenditures.  My mind hates everything about the situation.    And this morning I was jarred awake with what my heart had to say.

H:  “There’s one more lesson your dad wants to show you.”  

M:  Crap.  I’m pretty satisfied with the lessons already learned.

H:  “He is not.”  

M:  Crap. Don’t. Say. It.

H:  “He is going to show you how to die.”

M:  CRAP!  

H:   “What did he say with the look of sincerity he gave you yesterday?”

M:   Love.

H:   “And?”

M:   Appreciation.

H:   “And?”

M:   Trust.  Love, appreciation, and trust.

H:   “Ok.  What about love, appreciation and trust?”

M:   Principles to die by are worth living by as well.

H:  “Yep.  We’ll talk again soon.”

Thank you Dad.  Lesson received.  I love you.  Heaven is waiting to receive you.  Give Mom and Grandma my love when you see them.  We will be together soon.


Tuesday, September 21, 2021

3 gifts

Dressed for Success

By Deb Moken


A little, unsolicited advice before diving in.  Few things arrest and strangle the learning process as effectively as “I know”.  ”I know” is a  powerful thought-process-deactivation-switch.  Training yourself to not flip that “I know”  switch will insure a life more fascinating, rich, fulfilling and fun.

 Okay - that said, let’s dive into the ultra-familiar Prodigal Son Parable.  


Possessions, Appreciation, Identity, Authority and Purpose


 When the possession-driven son returns, humbled and humiliated, broke and broken the Father presented him with three gifts and throws a party.  That celebration torqued the other brother off; showing him to be a praise and appreciation driven individual. I think most folks fall into one of these two motivational categories: possessions or appreciation.  But I think the father’s three overlooked and undervalued gifts represent the best he had to offer both sons all along.    


 The robe represents a new identity -  Like a high school letterman’s jacket, it provides immediate
recognition of the wearer's affiliation
.  The robe wearer, having been rescued out of the kingdom of darkness, is now identified as being the Righteousness* of God in Christ Jesus. 

  

2000 year old signet ring
 The ring represents authority -  In Biblical times, a signet ring gave the wearer the authority of the one whose signet it bore.  Think power-of-attorney.  The ring gives the wearer legal authority to represent and speak on behalf of the Father and His Kingdom.   



The shoes represent purpose and mission -  A person needs decent footwear if they want to go somewhere.  How the sandal wearer chooses to fulfill that mission is unique but the mission itself remains constant.  It is to declare the good news of Christ’s Gospel. The news?  The evil, merciless, wicked, maniacal overlord has been overthrown, and humanity is free to choose a life  governed by the heavenly principles of forgiveness,  grace, love, and mercy.


 The Cross Changed Everything!


*Righteous means to be right with God. Because Christ Jesus paid the ransom, required by the enemy,  He legally satisfied the enemy's demand for our release:  the blood of a sinless human being.