You can hear the trains from my house. It’s not so much the clickety-clack of the wheels as they run along the steel tracks, although if it is especially still outside you can just identify that pulsing rhythm as an undertone of movement. No. It’s the horns! Running north and south through town, both passenger and freight trains are required to sound their presence at every street grade intersection where the tracks cross a street. The piercing blast of noise carries easily, catching your attention in a crescendo of sound as the train approaches and then fading away as the engine moves further down the line. I prefer to sleep with the window wide open and I can tell you this: this is a town with a lot of intersections!

I happen to love trains—watching them and riding them—and it’s not the first time I’ve lived so close to the tracks. Most of the time I hardly notice the noise and, for the most part, getting caught behind a lowered crossing bar when I’m driving around town is an enjoyable moment of pause in an otherwise crazy busy day.

The topography and skyline of Salem are pretty flat and as the sound of the train horns caught my attention last night, it occurred to me that living our lives for Jesus has to happen at street grade. His instruction in Matthew 5, to go as salt and light to the world wasn’t a lesson in culinary skill or interior decorating. It was about being “boots on the ground,” present and engaged at street level. And I started to wonder, when was the last time any of us carved out the time and space to live at street grade?

I recently changed television providers at home and in assembling the package of services, I decided to include a DVR (digital video recorder). I’m not sure if it was a smart move or not. Although I love the fact that I can record programs from all hours of the day and night and save them to watch at my convenience—I do find that lining up the recordings and checking out whatever is on the playlist can easily fill hours of time.

I remember well, the evening I was first introduced to this new electronic contraption. I had just returned home from assignments in Europe and was enjoying fellowship with officer colleagues. They gave me a quick demonstration of the system. Wow! With hundreds of TV channels to choose from, having this means of managing a family’s viewing was simply amazing to me. But in the split second that followed, I recall thinking to myself how easy it would be to never leave the house. Huddled up safely with a glimpse of the wider world as seen through a camera lens, yet never experiencing it for ourselves. And now some years later, I am the possessor of a DVR and I wonder to myself if I’ve been wise.

Engaging the world at street grade means we actually get out on the street. I was fortunate to have many friends from home come and enjoy some vacation based at my place in each of my appointments in Europe. The end of day debrief, as they returned home from the wanderings of tourism, almost always started with, “I just love walking around…” (insert name of the city).

At street level, you see the intricacy of carved doorways and the beauty of children playing in the park. At street level, you hear the sounds of life expressed in the movement of heavy equipment and the laughter of men telling stories about days past. At street level, you are confronted by the odors of need and the color pop of the first shoots of spring green. Imagine being salt and light there?

The psalmist David wrote, Teach me to do what you want, because you are my God. Let your good Spirit lead me on level ground (Psalm 143:10).  Sounds to me like living at street grade. May it be so.

You can tell when it’s election time in the Philippines. That’s when the signs come out and the roads get fixed. Manila is only about 36 miles from the training college. A trip that should take about 45 minutes takes between two to three hours. This is because of the traffic and road conditions.

Recently, in some sections, the narrow two-lane road has been widened and another lane added. However, it does little good to ease the congestion. Why? Because when the new lanes were added, instead of relocating the telephone poles, they simply paved around them. Consequently, there are now poles in the middle of the road all the way to Manila.

These poles slow traffic down as people try to move back into the only free lane. The effort and expense of widening the road is wasted, because the poles defeat the purpose. In addition, they cause irritation because of the drivers suddenly cutting into the moving lane as the poles interrupt the flow of traffic. They are also extremely hazardous. Can you imagine what would take place if you’re moving along and not paying attention and a pole suddenly appears in the lane? Disaster!

I understand why the poles were not moved. There are literally hundreds of wires extending in different directions on each pole. The complexity of trying to sort out all the wires would cause all sorts of cuts in different types of service.

Life is sometimes like that. On the road of our Christian journey, there may have been complicated mistakes that may seem better left untouched. Perhaps it seems better just to skirt around them and move on toward the goal. But the poles (mistakes) don’t just go away. Unless you deal with the issues, and reconcile the complicated “mess,” it is still like a pole in the road, waiting to slow you down or stop you short.

These unforgiven or unreconciled issues are a danger to the spiritual life of a growing Christian. The Holy Spirit will not dwell where sin remains in the heart of a believer. If you have been seeking sanctification (or the holiness experience), and it somehow eludes you, perhaps it is because of some undealt sin in your life or some issue, attitude, or habit that you have not placed on the altar. You feel defeated as a Christian and perhaps you don’t realize why.

Deal with the poles that block you on your spiritual journey. Don’t skirt around them and leave them untouched. If you do, they will continue to pop up in the form of guilt, self-doubt, fear and a negative self-image. Remove them completely. Surrender them to the One who can forgive, remove and cleanse.

As you seek and surrender, he can remove your sins completely and make your way clear to an intimate relationship with himself. This is the beginning of the journey to a victorious Christian life.

The day she was born was one of the most contemplative and enigmatic days in my life. Her “Nana” and I had traveled over 2,454 miles from Jamaica to Phoenix, just to see her new face and hug her and kiss her. This breath of fresh air, baby Maleah, elicited the supreme delight of welcoming her into the world and reactivated the insatiable pleasure of becoming grandparents.

But this time, beside the unrestrained joy originally felt at the birth of our first grandchild, Adrielle, and now repeated in the jubilation of Maleah’s birth, there was a tinge of sadness. Soon, we would have to leave her and be gone, not knowing when we would see her in person again.

Some may say that with all of today’s communication technology we have options for instant interaction. But it seems delusional to think that FaceTime and Facebook could replace the social interaction and natural affection that comes from being physically present. Spending live time with family is where love and nurturing occurs, where communal skills are learned, where values and beliefs are developed, and where we gel with each other as we play together, pray together, and produce together the experiences that forever shape our lives. These things cannot occur if relationships are left to develop through the medium of technology. It may be that as a result of these technological advances we have more lonely people residing together without knowing and relating to one another.

From the beginning when God created man, he said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” So he created woman as a partner, and then he blessed them and told them, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth” (Gen. 1:28). God intended that we be relational in our daily journeys. We may not get to pick our parents, siblings, children or grandchildren, but we do get to choose how we relate to each other, how we invest in belonging to the family circle and how we express the warmth and unconditional love that binds us together.

Being close and intimate in real life with our family is without comparison and just simply precious. Each moment we have to touch a life is a moment to treasure, a moment to teach, a moment to linger, a moment to bless and a moment to love. Make every effort to add to your living: definite moments of conversation, laughter, tears, positive interaction or whatever it takes to have undivided time with family members. It pays huge dividends! We already know that the only moments we are promised are those we have now. James says in 4:14, You don’t even know what your life tomorrow will be! You are like a puff of smoke, which appears for a moment and then disappears. So choose to dedicate and cherish and make moments of significance with your family.

Hear this: If any do not take care of their relatives, especially the members of their own family, they have denied the faith and are worse than an unbeliever (1 Tim. 5:8). Are you forfeiting precious moments with your children just to bring home a few extra dollars? Do you discount the daily opportunities to provide godly counsel to the next generation? Are you setting aside time in your over-packed schedule to create personal, interactive memories with your spouse, children and grandchildren? Did you postpone again the visit or call to your sister or brother? Or are you simply too busy to stop for a moment and put your priorities in the right order?

Press the pause button! It does not have to be that way. Make the time! Family is a worthwhile commitment. That’s why we just made the 2,454-mile journey back to Phoenix, to celebrate Maleah’s first birthday, to enjoy some priceless bonding time with Adrielle and to unwrap the gift of amazing, precious moments with our family.

And he shall be like a tree, planted by the rivers of water (Ps. 1:3a).

I recently read that longtime Alaskan Salvationist, Clarence Jackson, 78, Tlingit Eagle tribal leader of the Tsaagweidí—or Killer Whale Clan—quietly “Walked Into the Forest.” This Alaska Native euphemism for death resonated in my heart, for it evoked an imagery of walking into a forest and leaving behind all that was a part of one’s earthly life.

Scripture promises us that Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him (1 Cor. 2:9 NKJV). More than once during times of personal reflection have I pondered about the ever-nearer future to come, now that I’m a bit closer to it than when I was in my 40s and 50s. It was when I turned 60 that my thoughts began to dwell upon the mortality and the fragility of life. My brother Richard, was lost at sea at the age of 61. My dad James, died of cancer at the age of 69, and my mother Daisy, passed away several years ago at the age of 86.

But we have the lives of others in Scripture to encourage us along our way, like Queen Esther, who, when faced with a difficult, life-threatening situation, cried out, “If I perish, I perish” (Est. 4:16). We have the unwavering determination of our Lord and Savior who, when at the Garden of Gethsemane just prior to his arrest, prayed “Father, if you will, take this cup of suffering away from me. Not my will however, but your will be done” (Luke 22:42 GNB). Our cup of suffering may come to us in a number of ways before we undertake that final Walk in the Forest but as the Psalmist proclaimed, The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? (Ps. 27:1).

Lt. Colonel Victor Newbould said, “None of us are immune from the burdens of life.” In other words, loneliness, frustration, guilt, isolation, failure and discouragement are all a part and parcel of life, but Jesus is our great “burden bearer” to help us through difficult times. I know my feet have faltered many times along the pathway of duty. I have let others down and have felt unworthy and inadequate, but during seasons of dryness, when all seemed lost, the Word of God has been my source of comfort and solace.

In a beautiful ceremony some years ago during an Alaska Congress in Juneau, Clarence Jackson adopted me into the Killer Whale Clan. Looking back at that experience, I can only marvel at how God allowed my life’s journey to briefly come alongside that of this godly Tlingit Eagle tribal leader.

Lord, help me to be like a tree, planted by the rivers of water (Ps. 1:3a),  trusting and relying upon you in all that I do and say, and let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer (Ps. 19:14).

Have you made preparations for that final walk into the forest?

I’m coming out of a few weeks of spiritual darkness. A period of time where desire and ability to journal, pray and be still before the Lord has been difficult. A time where a spirit of oppression has been lurking about my home, causing me to wrestle with deep faith issues within that I am unable to articulate aloud. Have you ever experienced this?

Though I certainly don’t compare my spiritual experience with that of St. John of the Cross, St. Paul or St. Theresa, in my studies of their unique experiences, I’ve found commonality amongst these saints and this soldier. These periods of darkness can result from great spiritual growth, once the Enemy begins to recognize that good things are happening in God’s kingdom, and he’s alerted to do something to stop it. Or often, God himself can be calling us to greater depths with him, showing us areas that perhaps we’ve withheld from his lordship, reminding us of our great need of Savior every moment of every day.

As I waded through muddy waters of uncertainty, I began to question my understanding of God’s great love for me. I wanted the darkness to lift; I wanted relief from the oppression; I wanted to experience the love of God anew. It was as though my understanding of God’s great love for me had become so tainted by my own humanity and fallenness that what I so desired to believe in my heart was being overwhelmed by lies the Enemy was speaking over my mind. Holy Spirit has had to help reconstruct my understanding of a God whose love I believed in, but needed to, once again, richly experience. I needed a convincing work to take place.

Paul writes, And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,  neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love (Rom. 8:38 NLT).

Do you hear that? Paul wrote, spoke, lived, loved and breathed from a place of absolute conviction about the love of God. That nothing could separate us from the love of God was the truth whispered into my head and breathed over my heart as I, once again, allowed Holy Spirit to convince me that the very God who created me, who sent his Son to die for me, and who longed for relationship with me…loved me—in darkness and in light, through oppression and freedom, when I was born, 30 years later, and when I die. He. Loves. Me.

Are you not convinced? Are you not convicted? Ask Holy Spirit to bring both.

Spiritual darkness doesn’t preclude deep relationship with the Lord. In fact, it so often leads to deeper relationship with him. I urge you to remain in a place of utter dependency on him, learning to press in through periods of uncertainty and darkness in order to break through into his glory and light.

“God sustains every soul and dwells in it substantially, even though it be that of the greatest sinner in the world, and this union is natural. The supernatural union exists when God’s will and the soul’s will are in conformity. Therefore the soul rests transformed in God through love” (Dark Night of the Soul, Book 2, chapter 5, #3, #8).

You can’t fake good soil, or so it seems. I would love to be able to declare this as a result of an abundance of personal experience planting seeds and harvesting crops, but alas, my green thumb is more likely the result of dipping it in some guacamole or broccoli soup. Nonetheless, I’m intrigued.

For as long as I can remember, I have fallen asleep at night to the radio. My mind doesn’t shut down easily after a busy day, and (for some unexplainable reason) talk radio becomes a bit of white noise that shifts my thoughts and sends me quickly to sleep. If I wake up in the middle of the night, a quick punch of the snooze button gives me 59 minutes of noise in the background and usually I’m out again in a matter of minutes.

And so it happened the other night that I learned a little bit about soil. Well, more accurately, I learned a little bit about carrots and how to grow them. As I rolled over in the wee dark hours of the morning, I punched the snooze button and caught the end of a BBC gardening show and listened in as several expert gardeners responded to the questions of the amateurs (I was about to write “novices,” but most of them had been at it for a very long time!).

One gentleman had been attempting to grow carrots for 30 years. He had studied and adapted his technique; he knew what he was aiming for, but something just wasn’t working. And so his question was a simple one: “How can I get carrots to grow in my garden?” One expert gardener began to ask questions in return, having the man describe his setting and his attempts. Carrots, he explained, need a sandy kind of soil, nothing with too much clay in it. That seemed to be fine. Growing them in clumps may not produce good results (the expert explained); planting them in a line is probably better. That, too, seemed to be fine. Finally, the expert asked the man to describe the process of how he plants his carrots. And that was it—the “aha” moment.

The man explained how he carefully digs a trench through the soil, fills it with a thick layer of fertilizer and plants the carrot seeds in a line. The expert paused, then exhaled a long “aahhh.” That thick layer of fertilizer was (in fact) having the opposite effect of what was desired. Carrots need to push their feathery green tops up and out into the sunshine (which they can’t do being packed down too far below the surface) while at the same time stretching their roots down into the soil to reach the good nutrients way down below (which they won’t do when they are surrounded by a trench of fertilizer). The result? Stubby inedible carrots.

You can’t fake good soil, I thought to myself. A layer of the good stuff on top may not reveal the true condition of the soil down below, and it is the condition of the soil down below that matters most. And it doesn’t just apply to carrots.

Jesus talked about seeds and soil and a sower. As the gardener scattered his seeds, some of it landed on the walking path, and just got trampled by passersby. Some of it fell into the thorny part of the garden and got choked out by other plants. Some seeds fell on the stones and rocks, missing the dirt completely and were an easy target for the birds. But some of the seed made it to good soil, took root, grew deep and tall, and produced an abundant yield. Nothing can substitute for good soil.

I have a feeling that the carrot gardener will have an improved crop this coming season. It’s all about the soil!

By Linda Manhardt,  Major

This semester, the cadets at The Philippines Territory training college have “Public Ministries” class. As a part of this course, each cadet prepares a different Salvation Army ceremony and demonstrates to the class how it should be properly done.

One married cadet couple with six children had never experienced a Christian wedding as they are from the indigenous Tiboli tribe in the southern part of Mindanao, which performed tribal weddings.

The cadets saw the class as an opportunity to give the love gift of a Christian wedding to their session mates, and so the planning began.

They constructed an arch of bamboo poles, with bougainvillea woven throughout. The wedding dress and “barongs” (the national formal attire for men) were borrowed from staff and cadets. They prepared the program and distributed a lovely invitation.

For days, excitement permeated the compound as preparations continued for the “wedding.”

Getting into the spirit of things, I actually authorized the expenditure to purchase a wedding cake to help mark the occasion, and a very special, formal lunch was provided.

It happens that it was “Fiesta” week and the schools were closed, which meant that all six of the children could help prepare and participate in the wedding.

During the cadets’ first year of training, a cadet from Hong Kong joined us to complete her training and Lieutenant Winnie was commissioned last year in her home command. But she missed us! She surprised us all by showing up and spending her furlough with us. It was a joyful gift to us all.

What is unexplainable is what the lieutenant brought along with her…a pair of wedding rings. She had no plan or reason to bring them, but she did. And because of this, the happy couple (who never had wedding rings), now have them, along with a wonderful memory (and photos) of their Christian wedding!

Is it a coincidence that the children had no school at the very time their parents’ wedding was written into the course syllabus?

Is it pure chance that Lieutenant Winnie decided to surprise us all with a visit and happened to bring along a set of wedding rings?

I think not.

The Lord delights in giving good things to his children.

Oh what a blessing to be one of them!

As we drove home following the afternoon rain storm, windshield wipers working but not fast enough, the wind had fun with our little car while we maneuvered our way on the potholed streets of Jamaica. Struggling to stay on our side of the road, I casually turned my head and looked up toward the mountainside and instantly, with an unknowing reflex action, my mouth opened wide in awe and admiration.

There, resting in the arms of the sky, rare and unlikely, unique in its beauty with colors streaming across the heavens, was not just one rainbow, but two. Two rainbows, in the sky at the same time, in the same place, double rainbows capturing our hearts and imaginations. Like synchronized swimmers, Rose-Marie and I mouthed our joy in perfect unison—it’s God’s promise of renewal and he just made it personal, one rainbow for each of us.

All of us know the Bible story of Noah’s Ark, with the rainbow as the sign of the renewal of hope and prosperity. God had said, “I am giving you a sign of my covenant with you and with all living creatures, for all generations to come. I have placed my rainbow in the clouds. It is the sign of my covenant with you and with all the earth” (Gen. 9: 12-13).

Many generations have come and gone but rainbows are still signs of God’s daily renewal of his covenant of peace and a new future. They promise that the storm is over, the rain has stopped, and that a new beginning is possible.

We humans need signs of renewal in this disaster-filled world where earthquakes rumble and hurricanes roar, where sadistic maniacs end children’s dreams, and where human indifference and sinful behaviors condemn us to live with tragedy. We need something that will lift our eyes, stir our spirits and renew our faith as we deal with the things that cloud our lives. And sure enough, in the clouds, we find it, in the vision of the rainbow. The message of renewal is that after the darkness will come the light; that after the most dreaded moments will come the possibilities of hope; that after the days of torment will come the time of joy—proof of God’s renewal of his covenant with us.

The rainbow promises that there are better things ahead than what we have left behind. The rainbow promises a new phase with the expectation that life moves forward after the fog and pouring rain. As we begin a new year, as we seek to renew our purpose and passion for living and to hold close what is most precious to our existence, what better time to look for the rainbow? We will see it—in the heavens as a remembrance and reminder that it is not what has happened, but what is about to happen that will move us forward.

On that wet afternoon in the midst of the storm, the double rainbows served as beautiful tokens to help move us forward. They were signs of grace—of a God of love who cares for each of us and who helps us start over when all seems lost. It was as if he were saying to each of us: “When catastrophe overtakes you like a storm, when tragedy sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you, look up. Don’t worry about a thing! See, I am renewing my promise. I’m here. And I am still at work.”

And as if to prove it, as we drove into our yard at home we looked up again and our double rainbows had followed us home—personal reminders of God’s renewal of his commitment that the future is still bright.

As I drove toward the grocery store with big plans to stock up on all things Thanksgiving, I noticed the Christmas lights adorning the lampposts and hanging from the electrical lines. During the past three years, these special lights have always made their appearance early in the season, but never quite this early. Nonetheless, I wasn’t too surprised. It seems most people have given way to the Christmas season being rushed in while the last few pieces of Halloween candy linger in the pantry. And Thanksgiving? What Thanksgiving?

Seeing the red and green-lit stockings, candy canes, and angels, my nearly 6-year-old Eva asked in a very flat voice, “Why in the world do kids think that Santa brings toys to them? He’s not even real.”

I’m not going to lie, I died a little inside. I wanted to scold her and say, “For crying out loud, can you just be a child for once and live in the magic of the moment?” I quickly recalled being 12 years old and still wanting to “believe” even though deep inside I knew Santa was no more real than was my passion for piano lessons.

I regained composure and addressed her “I’m 6 going on 16” question. I assured her that while she may not believe in Santa, a lot of kids her age did, and it wouldn’t be fair to say otherwise to any of her friends.

I wanted Eva to have a magical Christmas experience! I didn’t want her to be stripped of her right to believe in someone whimsical. Do we teach our children about Jesus and why his birth was both a necessity and a miracle? Absolutely! But can’t we serve up a little side of Santa with our Savior?

In the middle of my moral dilemma, my internal monologue came to a screeching halt.

Things are so different now. The childhood I was recalling, and even projecting on my daughter, was so much simpler. Life was not as it is now; it was much different. Here I was warning little Eva that it wouldn’t be fair for her to tell other children Santa wasn’t real if they believed he was; that it wouldn’t be okay to strip them of their innocence and wonder.

What was I talking about? Life as it is now for so many children means what is “fair” is not an option. I’m talking about children whose spirits have long been broken by the verbal abuse of an unloving mother or father. Children who battle confusion about relationships because their family is “non-traditional.” Children who are entering puberty at a much earlier age and are experiencing a whole world of emotional and physical responses that weren’t meant to occur for years to come. Children who are not just exposed to common addictive substances, but to disturbing images and themes (e.g. vampire series, reality TV), social media, sexting, etc. For so many children, their innocence was stripped long before my daughter had the idea to campaign against Santa Claus.

This shook me. So this is what I decided.

I would far rather expose, preach, live, speak, and be an expression of truth to my daughter than urge her to hold closely to any whimsical notions that, while intrinsically harm no one, don’t offer her life everlasting. And don’t get me wrong; even as I type these words, I realize how much I wish it could be some other way. If our young people are going to have their childlike innocence robbed and “adulthood” thrust upon them, our response must be to cultivate within them a certain understanding of who God is and to believe that their bright minds hold the capacity to grow a “mature” faith.

The reality is this: Jesus is real. And Eva doesn’t need to find comfort and temporary solace in a false identity; she needs to understand and recognize her identity in Christ. This is fair. This is just. Showing her, even at this early age, who Christ is and whom she can be in Christ means equipping her to combat the fallenness of a world that is worse off now than it was when I was 6 years old.

We’ve no time to waste leaving the responsibility of growing our children’s genuine love of the Lord to their Sunday school teacher. We must take seriously the battle that is being waged for the souls of our sweet little ones and protect them from the enemy’s advances by raising them in homes of praise and worship, purity, and obedience to the Lord. Count the cost and join me in committing to be Truth and Light to our youngest disciples.

For a musical chaser to this article, check out “Keep Your Heart Young,” by Brandi Carlile.

“Hang in there!”

Three short words that inspire a variety of responses. For some, the phrase is full of encouragement; for others, it just rubs the wrong way. Of course, tone of voice and speed of delivery have something (a lot) to do with the interpretation of the utterance. However it’s expressed, there’s something to be said for a challenge to perseverance. Never give up, never give in. Get the job done!

Blame it on the polar bear.

My dad loved zoos. From the time he was a little kid in San Diego, when about the only thing they could afford was the nickel to get in, he was never happier than when carving out some time to roam among the cages and enclosures of the local zoo. I’m pretty sure my initial outing to see the animals happened well before my first birthday.

One of my dad’s lifetime desires was to volunteer at a zoo, something he accomplished with great pride a couple of years after his retirement. He received training, memorized the layout of the zoo, and decided to work with the birds. Big birds or small, they were captivating to my dad. Phone calls from home were filled with details of the latest happenings at the Oregon Zoo.

I had never really thought of our family as “bird people,” so it was something of a mystery to me. I’m more of a big animal person, myself. Elephants and tigers and giraffes—now those are worth seeing! So it was no surprise that I recently found myself face-to-face with a polar bear. There was a pretty thick slab of protective glass between us, but he caught my attention.

As I approached the enclosure, it was the noise that piqued my intrigue first. Whomp, whomp, whomp; whomp, whomp, whomp; whack, whomp. On a beautiful autumn day, the bear had entertainment. What looked to be a large carrot had been shoved into a white, plastic, 55-gallon drum. The bear could see it and smell it, but he couldn’t reach it. The unplugged fill holes in the top of the drum were too small for his giant paws to squeeze through. So this massive, shaggy bear was attempting to break the drum in two. He’d already managed to make a crack in the side, but not as yet large enough to reach the carrot. With the full weight of his thousand pounds, he used his front paws to push down on the drum, over and over again. The whomp, whomp, whomp of the bending plastic reverberated around the enclosure and echoed down the covered walkway. From time to time he’d give the drum a swat with his massive arm…whack! He’d upend the drum, peer inside, push it over and start the process all over again. Determination to get that carrot gave that bear a substantial workout.

It made me wonder. When was the last time I went after something with that same tenacious vigor? How about you? Life is a marathon, not a sprint. No doubt, like you, my weeks are filled to overflowing with an endless list of things to do (most of them important), and there are times it would be nice to just snap my fingers and have the desk cleared. Not every matter can be handled in one try. Not many problems are resolved with one conversation. The pace is relentless and it can be exhausting at times. You know what I mean.

I don’t know how long I stood there—seemed like forever. His persistence and perseverance were inspiring. All that for a carrot. I wanted to shout out, “hang in there” but was afraid the other zoo visitors might think I was a bit crazy. So I just shouted it out in my heart, and then bought a notecard with his photo on it to put on my bulletin board at the office.

As I walked away from the polar bear enclosure, the words of the Apostle Paul came to mind: We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame (Rom. 5:3-5 ESV).

Never give up, never give in. By God’s grace and with his help, we can get the job done.