Down an Unfamiliar Road

I watched a video depicting this story the other day and it really impacted me, so I thought I’d share it with you. A father came home very tired and aggravated by a bad day at work. No sooner did he enter the house than his ten-year-old son asked him, “Daddy, what is your hourly wage?” His father looked at him as if he didn’t actually hear what his son said. So the Father asked him to repeat his question. Again the boy asked, “How much money do you get paid in an hour.” This proved too much. The father was already upset about how things went at the office, now he’s being interrogated by his son wanting to know how much he earns per hour?

In very strong and harsh word the father scolded him severely. “You mean, it doesn’t matter that I came home after working all day to put food on our table and a roof over our heads? Instead of asking me how was I doing, you interrogate me on my salary? What kind of spoiled brat are you? You don’t deserve anything to eat, so go to your room, close the door, and stay there until you’re told you can come out.” With tears brimming up in his eyes, the little boy slouched back to his room with head bowed and closed the door behind him.

After the father read the newspaper and calmed down, he started thinking that he had been too rough with his son. In fact, he didn’t even ask his son what he wanted to know. So slowly the father walked down to the room and opened the door to see his son sitting on the bed with his eyes closed. He said to his son, “Listen, I think I was a little to mean to you when I got home. I didn’t mean to be so hateful but I had a bad day at the office. By the way, why did you ask? The boy said, I wanted to see if you would give me ten dollars. “Ten dollars, yelled his dad! What have you done to even deserve a dollar, let alone ten dollars.” And with that, the father turned, walked out of the room, and slammed the door behind him.

When mealtime came, the mother asked if he was going to let their son eat. The father was one to be strict and discipline his son, but there was no reason to make him suffer any longer. So, again he went down to his son’s room and told him he could come out to eat. But before the boy was able to get up to leave, in a sense of remorse for treating his son the way he did, he reached into his wallet and gave his son ten dollars.

The boy was elated! He ran to his chest of draws and pulled out his piggy bank. He quickly emptied it of the coins and wadded up dollar bills that were in there. The look on the father’s face was that of one who realized he had just been scammed. “You already had money! How much did you have? Why would you need ten dollars from me?”

The boy said calmly, with a smile on his face that made it seem as though he didn’t detect his father’s anger, “The reason I asked you how much money you were paid an hour is because I wanted to give you that much so when you get home you would spend an hour with me so we could talk and have fun.” As the boy held out his twenty dollars, the father felt a sense of shame go through his whole body. With tears, he apologized to his son. He realized that he did seem to live just for himself. His time was for his interests. As they walked to the kitchen table, the mother saw them smiling and hugging each other. She was delighted when she heard their story.

How much would you charge your children for one hour of their undivided attention? Should they even have to pay you at all? If we were to try and calculate how much one hour of God’s time would cost, there’s no number big enough. And what if He charged us for the blessings He freely shares with us? This same principle applies not only for parents and their children but for husbands and wives. Don’t ever say to your spouse, “I love you,” unless they can have your undivided attention any minute of any day. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

THE STORY OF AN EMPTY EGG

When I discovered this story, it listed no author, so there is no one to whom I can give credit for sharing this heart-touching story about Easter. I hope its message reaches your heart as it did mine.

A little boy named Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of twelve, he still sat in second grade, six grades behind his peers. It looked like he would never learn enough to move on to the next grade. Mrs. Miller, his homeroom teacher, often became exasperated with his inability to grow mentally stronger. He’d squirm in his seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light suddenly penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just proved to be a source of irritation for his teacher.

One day Mrs. Miller called his parents and asked them to come in for consultation. As Mr. and Mrs. Forrester entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, “Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It’s probably embarrassing for him to be with younger children who don’t have his learning difficulties. It just doesn’t seem fair.

Mrs. Forrester wept softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke up. “Miss Miller,” he said, “there is no such school nearby. Not only would it be very inconvenient for us to move, find a new home and a new job, but it would come as a terrible shock for Jeremy if we took him out of this school. We know he really likes it here.”

Doris sat for a long time after they left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it just didn’t seem right to keep him in her class. She had eighteen other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a constant distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am she thought. Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she tried her bests to tolerate Jeremy’s noises and his blank stares. That is, until one day, he limped up to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him. “I love you, Miss Miller!” he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole class to hear. The other students snickered, and Doris’ face turned red. She still managed to stammer, “Wh–wh–why that’s very nice, Jeremy. N–n—now please take your seat.”

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them that during that time of year everything in nature came alive; the trees, flowers, butterflies, and birds were returning. She gave each of the children a large colored plastic egg. “Now listen,” she said to them, “I want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that reminds you of spring and shows the beginning of new life. Do you understand?”

All of the children shouted in response, “Yes, Miss Miller!” That is, all except Jeremy. He listened intently; his eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. She wondered if he even understood what she just said about Spring and new life? Did he even understand the assignment? So she thought, maybe I should call his parents and explain the project to them.

That evening, however, Doris’ kitchen sink plugged up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still needed to shop for groceries, iron a blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy’s parents.

The next morning, nineteen children came skipping to school, laughing and talking as they entered the classroom and placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller’s desk. After they completed their math lesson, it came time to open the eggs.

In the first egg, Doris found a flower. “Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life,” she said. “When budding plants peek through the ground, we know that spring is here.” A small girl in the first row waved her arm saying, “That’s my egg, Miss Miller!”

The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. “We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that’s new life too.” Little Judy smiled proudly and said, “Miss Miller, that one’s mine.”

Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom, “My Daddy helped me find it,” he beamed.

But when Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty. Surely it must be Jeremy’s she thought, and of course, he didn’t understand her instructions. If only she hadn’t forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another.

Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. “Miss Miller, aren’t you going to talk about my egg?” Flustered, Doris replied, “But Jeremy, if that’s your egg it’s empty. He looked straight into her eyes and said softly, “Yes, said Jeremy, but I learned in Sunday school that Jesus’ tomb was empty, too.” It seemed as if time froze, her brain searched for something to say. Finally, she recovered enough from her shock to ask, “Jeremy, do you know why the tomb was empty?” “Oh, yes,” Jeremy said, “Jesus was killed and put in there. And because it was Springtime, God made Him come back to life!”

The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the schoolyard, Doris cried. The coldness inside her melted completely away. Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see nineteen eggs laying on top of his casket, all of them were empty.

As adults, we do not want to be accused of thinking like a child, especially one that is particularly lacking in knowledge and decorum. But Jesus didn’t feel that way. He showed a special love for children and said that the Kingdom of Heaven was like a classroom full of little children.¹ Not only that, but He said that often great wisdom would be spoken by little children.² And after all, with God being eternal, whatever our age may be we are only infants in His sight. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

There are a number of great quotes in which eagles are compared with chickens, crows, turkeys and even dogs. So I decided to add one of my own that reads: “You can’t soar high like an eagle if your head is stuck in the sand with ostriches.” If you are an ostrich Christian, then the words of the Prophet Isaiah do not mean much to you: “They that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.”¹ I like the way it is rendered in another version: “Those who trust the Lord will become strong again. They will rise up as high as an eagle in the sky.”²

Sandy Warner mentions how as an eagle stirs up its nest, hovers over its young, spreading out its wings, taking them up, carrying them on its wings, so the LORD alone led him, and there was no foreign god with him. As most of you know, eagles have been classified in the prophetic world as being symbolic of the prophetic. She recently did some research about eagles and was fascinated with how the information correlated with our training up as Christians and also the prophetic giftings. She points to what we are told about all the Israelites coming together to meet with the LORD their God at the special place He chose. They must read the teachings of the LORD to the people so that they can hear them. They were told to bring together all the people – the men, the women, the little children, and the foreigners living in their cities so they will hear the teachings, and they will learn to respect the LORD your God. Then they will be able to do everything in this Book of Teachings.³

Most of you know that eagles must LEARN to fly and hunt and are taught by OBSERVING their parents? These skills are not instinctive like some of God’s creatures. However, eagles are born with a different instinct called “imprinting.” Konrad Lorenz first discovered imprinting when he observed ducks and geese hatching out of their eggs. He noticed they would bond with the first moving object they saw, regardless of whether this was their parent. From that first moment of imprinting, they follow their moving parent (or adopted parent) until raised.⁴

The concept of imprinting is fascinating. Bird shelters that rescue eagle eggs, must hand-feed them with an eagle puppet so that the eagles do not think they are human and end up resisting their own kind when it is time to mate. In Kondrad’s imprinting studies, he saw one egg hatch near a rolling ping pong ball. When the duck grew old enough, it tried to mate with anything that was round and rolling. One group of ducklings imprinted on his moving boots. In the morning when he would go outside to put on his boots, instead of being in their nest, the ducks were curled up and sleeping on his boots. They followed Kondrad – everywhere his boots took him.

So it is with imitating the Anointed One – Jesus of Nazareth. As infants in the Lord’s family, we must grow up in constant contact with His Word. So as we grow older as spiritual adults, people will see us always following God’s Word wherever it takes us and duplicating whatever it teaches us. It is God through His Holy Spirit who teaches us how to fly higher each day in the atmosphere of His presence through the Word. So when you meet another believer who seems to be stuck in the routine of going to church to be fed the Word of God but then never does anything with what they learn, they just keep coming back week after week at the same feeding time, you may be looking at an ostrich. No matter how big they may seem in people’s eyes, remember this: They still can’t fly like those of you who are eagles. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

GOD JUST WANTS TO HOLD YOUR HAND

The lady who wrote this touching story did not attach her name, but having worked in a hospital as a chaplain it sounds very credible to me. It’s not so much the story, as it is the lesson it teaches us. I hope you appreciate her testimony as I did.

She tells us that her mother lay dying of an aggressive form of cancer for which no cure existed. She learned that a person never survived more than five years after being diagnosed with this type of cancer. Her mom was diagnosed at the age of 61 while living a vibrant, happy, enthusiastic life as a loving, caring woman. She fought this cancer with all her strength, submitting to an experimental operation to remove a tumor to give her a few more precious months here on Earth.

This lady, along with her sister and stepfather, cared for her mother after the operation, while painfully watching her waste away in the ICU of a wonderful national cancer center. She received the best care anyone could ask for. However, all three of their hearts ached as they watched her grow worse and worse, weaker and weaker. She reluctantly allowed herself to be put on life support with the promise that she would be taken off in order to go home soon. But weeks later, there seemed little hope she would ever be able to survive off the machines.

After long deliberations of tear-filled soul-searching for answers, all three of them decided that it was time to ask the hospital to allow them to take their beloved mother off life support and to let her die at home in dignity without pain. They promised her throughout their lives that they would never allow her to be kept alive as a vegetable on life-support machines, and they wanted to do their duty for her no matter how difficult and heart-wrenching they found it to be.

After days of meetings, the hospital ethics committee agreed with them that it was time to take their mother off life support. Together, the three of them stood around their mother’s bedside, more upset and stressed than they ever imagined because of having to make such a grief-filled decision. She remembers thinking, as she observed how distressed her sister and stepfather were, there were few situations on earth more challenging than the one they faced. Suddenly, she was filled with great love and empathy for family members of those on death row, waiting in a room to hear that their loved one was dead. She thought to herself, “I don’t know if I can’t take much more of this.”

Then the hospital chaplain, a member of the ethics committee, came hurriedly into the room. He said, “I’m very sorry to tell you this, but the ethics committee changed its mind. Your mother’s doctors withdrew their names from the committee and from your mother’s case. They said it feels like euthanasia to them. I must also tell you that there is great disagreement among other doctors on the committee who feel that your mother’s doctors are more interested in protecting their reputations than taking care of your mother and the three of you. We are going to have another meeting this afternoon. I will keep you posted on the outcome.”

She and her sister began to sob and cry, and her stepfather turned beet red with anger. She felt her own stress level climb to intolerable levels. In her mind, she silently cried out to God, “ O Lord! If you have any more strength to give me, I need it more than ever. I need Your help right now or I won’t be able to get through this and to help my family to get through this! Please God, Help me, God! Please!”

Suddenly felt faint and slumped toward the floor. Then just as quickly, it felt like she was being transported from her mother’s hospital room. She found herself standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking a green and gold colored ocean heaving with huge waves. The air felt soft as velvet against her skin and a light seemed to cover her like the finest silk cloth. Somehow, she knew in her heart that the ocean was infinitely wide and infinitely deep. She knew inside herself that the strength of God was surrounding her. Suddenly someone like an angel behind her leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear with a soft and loving voice, “Take as much strength as you need.”

At that moment, she opened her eyes and found herself still standing up in the room with her emotional, grieving, distressed family, Then she experienced the strength she just prayed for flood into her body and soul. Miraculously she made it through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening as the hospital ethics committee went through the processes they needed in order to feel comfortable in allowing them to take their mother off life support.

Together, they remained there as a family fulfilling their promise to their mother, making sure she received the support she needed to gracefully leave this planet surrounded by love. For this lady, the words of that angel, “Take as much as you need” remains to this day such a loving invitation and one she’s remembered many times since then, especially whenever she begins to doubt the infinite love of God. And one day she hopes to thank, in person, the angel whose gentle, supportive voice whispered those words into her ear.

Maybe your personal experience was not the same as this lady’s, nor perhaps will such a heartbreaking situation face you with equal pain and devastation. But the God who heard her prayer and sent the angel to whisper such hope in her ear is still the same. Always keep in mind, just like Job of old in the Bible, God never takes away from your past without replacing what you lost with something you’ll need for the future. As the old song goes, you may not know about tomorrow, but the One who holds tomorrow holds your hand, so take as much strength as you need, He’s ready to give it to you. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

Ovid (BC 43-17 AD), writer of classic ancient Roman poetry said this in one of his poems in Latin: “Materiae autem praestet, opus fac.” As we all know, that our understanding in English all depends on the translator. John Dryden rendered it this way: “The matter vied not with the sculptor’s thought,” and another wrote, ”The work of art was finer than the material.” But A. S. Kline translated it thus: “The workmanship exceeded the matter.”¹

No matter which one we choose, the meaning is still the same: take something of inferior material and make it into a superior product. If that relates to taking a slice of an old Red Wood tree and making into a beautiful coffee table, or an old rundown former factory and remodeling it into upscale apartments, it also can apply to life.

Maybe our height, weight, hair color, skin color or facial features make not pass a screening test for a Hollywood movie, that still doesn’t mean we can’t take what we have and transform it so that when people look at us they marvel at how well we’ve done with what we were given.

But it goes deeper than that. Perhaps we weren’t raised in a highly functional family with model parents or were given the opportunity to attend the best schools or even get into college, but these are not the only forces and factors that shape our lives, attitudes, mindset, talents, virtues, and character. Like a potter who takes a clump of ordinary clay and molds it into a beautiful vase that sells for a high price, so can the One who made us in the first place, do the same.

I heard this poem many years ago, and I’m sure you’ve heard it too, but the message is still loud and clear.

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin, but held it up with a smile; “What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried, “Who’ll start the bidding for me?” “A dollar, a dollar”; then two!” “Only two? Two dollars, and who’ll make it three? Three dollars, once; three dollars twice; going for three..”But no, from the room, far back, a gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, and tightening the loose strings, he played a melody pure and sweet as caroling angel sings. The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low, said; “What am I bid for the old violin?” And he held it up with the bow. A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two? Two thousand! And who’ll make it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and gone,” said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, “We do not quite understand what changed its worth.” Swift came the reply: “The touch of a master’s hand.” And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine; a game – and he travels on. “He is going” once, and “going twice, He’s going and almost gone.” But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought by the touch of the Master’s hand. Myra ‘Brooks’ Welch

More recently, Bill and Gloria Gather wrote this beautiful song:

If there ever were dreams That were lofty and noble They were my dreams at the start And hope for life’s best were the hopes That I harbor down deep in my heart But my dreams turned to ashes And my castles all crumbled, my fortune turned to loss So I wrapped it all in the rags of life And laid it at the cross.Something beautiful, something good All my confusion He understood All I had to offer Him was brokenness and strife But he made something beautiful of my life. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMQqSarDf8Y

Does this sound like fanciful thinking? Is it some pie-in-the-sky idea? If one were to think so, they must then convince over 2.18 billion Christians around the word that it’s not true. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

I JUST SAW JESUS!

When I read this story I found myself thinking whether I should take this as a made-up fishing tale or to accept it as another one of those miracles that only a child’s faith is able to believe and grasp. Since the real names of people and places were given, I decided to receive it as a true story.

Howard County Sheriff Jerry Marr got a disturbing call one Saturday afternoon, His six-year-old grandson, Mikey, was hit by a car while fishing with his dad just outside Greentown, Indiana. They were near a bridge on the bank of the Kokomo Reservoir when a woman lost control of her car, slid off the bridge and hit Mikey at a rate of about 50 mph.

Sheriff Marr’s pulse began to race, he saw the results of many such accidents like this and feared the worst. When he finally got to Saint Joseph Hospital, he rushed through the emergency room to find Mikey conscious and in fairly good spirits.

“Mikey, what happened?” Sheriff Marr asked breathlessly. Mikey replied calmly, ‘Well, Papaw, I was fishin’ with Dad, and some old lady ran me over with her car. It knocked me into a big mud-puddle and broke my fishin’ pole, so I didn’t get a chance to catch a fish!”

As it turned out, the impact with the care sent Mikey flying about 500 feet, over some small trees and an embankment, landing right in the middle of a large puddle of mud. His only injuries occurred when the car smashed into him and broke his right femur bone in two places. Mikey underwent surgery to place pins in his leg. Otherwise, the boy was shaken up but just fine.

All the boy talked about was that his fishing rod got broken, so while he was in surgery, Sheriff Marr went out to Wall-Mart and bought him a new one so he could give it to him when he came out. The next day, the Sheriff sat in the hospital room with Mikey keeping him company. Mikey was enjoying his new fishing pole and talked about when he could go fishing again, as he cast the hook into the trash can.

When they were alone, young Mikey turned to his grandfather and asked him matter-of-factly, “Papaw, did you know that Jesus is a real person?” Being somewhat startled by the sudden question, Sheriff Marr stuttered a little as he replied, “Ye, ye, yes! I believe Jesus is real. But He’s only real to people who believe in Him and love Him.” “Why do you ask?” Papaw inquired somewhat quizzically.

“I mean, do you really believe that Jesus is a real person?” asked Mikey again. “What do you mean?” asked the Sheriff? “I mean, that now I know He’s a real man because I saw him,” explained Mikey somewhat nonchalantly while still casting his fishing hook toward the recycle bin. Now sitting up straight and with eyebrows raised, the Sheriff looked at him said seriously, “’You did!” “When?”

Mikey kept casting his fishing line and continued. “When that lady hit me and I went flyin’ up into the air, but just before I hit the ground I saw Jesus and He caught me in His arms, walked me over to the middle of the mud puddle and laid me down in the water.”

I don’t doubt but what Sheriff Marr felt tears well-up in his eyes. His grandson saw something he dreamed of seeing ever since he made Jesus Lord of his life. Then a sense of thrill and joy filled his heart when he realized that he did see Jesus through his grandson’s eyes. If that was one of my grandkids I surely would have felt the same way. And as I finished reading this story I was so glad that our Lord still reveals Himself at the right time and right place so that we witness miracles of this kind so that we also can say, “I just saw Jesus!” – Dr. Robert R Seyda

TO ALL MY READERS AND FACEBOOK FRIENDS

I have some good news to share with you. A few months ago, during a Governors Meeting of the Phrear School of Theology where I am privileged to serve as an Academic Officer Operations Trustee, the Chancellor informed us that they were considering initiating a Masters Degree level course on Ministry, and were looking for some Textbooks or Supplemental Reading Material for that course.

When I told him about our study here, and on Facebook, on Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. he graciously asked me to send him a draft for consideration. Praise the Lord, I was able to send the whole commentary to the school yesterday. Now it is a matter of simply waiting to see what God has in store for the work His Holy Spirit helped me to research and write.

I informed the Chancellor that I did not want any remuneration for the commentary were they to decide to use it and publish it, I desired that all proceeds go to the School to help the students and expenses of the operation. That would be my contribution. Any reward I might receive is knowing that students as far away as the Republic of the Philippines on one side of the world and the country of Malawi in Africa on the other side of the world would be given a chance to see and study what the Lord shared with me.

Researching and writing this work has taken over five years. So now I’m leaving it in the Lord’s hands, and the capable hands of the Chancellor and his staff. All I ask is that you pray with me that God’s will is done to His honor, praise, and glory. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

Last Sunday my wife and I enjoyed listening to Pastor Stephen Arterburn, from Indiana deliver an inspiring and humorous teaching on “Changing the Way You Think About Love. So I wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

https://saddleback.com/visit/locations/onlinecampus?autoplay=true

FULFILLING PSALM 150 DOWN HERE

The following is a true story told by Mildred Honor, a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. I was a lot like this boy Robby, she writes about when my Mom arranged for my sister and me to take piano lessons in Germany when I was twelve years old. Even my piano teacher, Brigitte, didn’t think I stood a chance of learning (and she was partially right). So you can imagine how much I can understand this story. By the way, this boy’s name is also Robert.

Mildred tells how she always supplemented her income by teaching piano lessons during the summer, something she did for over thirty years. During those years she found that children possess many levels of musical ability, and although she experienced the pleasure of teaching a prodigy, she did teach some very talented students.

However, she also tutored her share of what she called “musically challenged” pupils – one such pupil being a boy nick-named Robby. At the age of eleven, Robby’s mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. She preferred that students (especially boys) begin at an earlier age, which she explained to Robby. But Robby said that it was always his mother’s dream to hear him play the piano. That was enough for her so she accepted him as a student.

Well, Robby began his piano lessons and from the beginning, she thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. Nevertheless, he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary piano pieces that she required all her students to learn. Over the months he tried and tried while she listened and cringed and tried as best she could to encourage him.

At the end of each weekly lesson, Robby would always say “I know my mom’s going to hear me play someday.” But to her, it seemed hopeless, he just did not have any inborn ability. Mildred only recognized his mother from seeing her briefly as she dropped Robby off or waited in her to come in her old car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled, but she never came in and visited.

Then one day Robby stopped coming for his lessons. She thought about calling him but assumed that because of his lack of ability he decided to pursue something else. She was also glad that he stopped coming – he was bad advertising for her music lessons program!

Several weeks later she mailed out a flyer recital to each of the students’ homes about a recital. To her great surprise, Robby called and asked her if he could be in the recital. She told him that the recital was for current pupils and since he dropped out he really did not qualify. He told her that his mother had been sick and unable to bring him to his piano lessons, but that he kept on practicing. “Please Miss Honor, I’ve just got to play for my Mom,” he insisted.

To this day Mildred still doesn’t know what led her to allow him to play in the recital – perhaps it was his insistence or maybe something inside of her saying that it would be all right. The night of the recital came and the high school gymnasium was packed with parents, relatives, and friends. She put Robby last on the program. He would play just before she was to come up, thank all the students and their parents, and then play a finishing piece herself. She thought that any damage Robby might do would come at the end of the program and she could always salvage his poor performance through her “curtain closer” performance.

Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students all practiced intently and it showed. Then Robby came up on the stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked as though an egg beater went through it. “Why wasn’t he dressed up like the other students?” she thought. “Why didn’t his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?”

Robby pulled out the piano bench, and she was surprised when he announced that he chose to play Mozart’s Concerto No. 21 in C Major. Everyone looked shocked! And she was also not prepared for what she heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories.

He went from pianissimo to fortissimo, from allegro to virtuoso; his suspended chords that Mozart demanded magnificently! Never did she hear Mozart played so well by anyone his age.

After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo, and everyone was up on their feet in wild applause! Overcome and in tears, she ran up on stage threw put her arms around Robby in joy. “I never heard you play like that before, Robby, how did you do it?” Through the microphone, Robby explained: “Well, Miss Honor …. remember I told you that my mom was sick? Well, she actually had cancer and passed away just this morning. And well …she was born deaf, so tonight was the first time she finally heard me play, and I wanted to make it special.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed in foster care, she noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy. She thought to herself, how much richer her life became bringing Robby as her pupil. (By the way, she never got to play her final piece to cover up for Robby’s expected bad performance).

No, Mildred never had a prodigy, but that night she became Robby’s prodigy. He was the teacher and she was the pupil, for he taught her the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself, and maybe even taking a chance on someone and you didn’t know why.

So after hearing this story, we can understand why Mildred was shocked to the core when she found out later that Robby was killed years later in Timothy McVeigh’s senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995. May God rest his precious soul until he plays for heaven’s choir after the great resurrection, with his mom in the audience to proudly cheer him on. – Dr. Robert R Seyda

TO ALL MY FABULOUS STUDENTS AND FRIENDS

You may not have kept track, but here’s a little information for you. On our journey through the Book of Romans, you read 1411 pages of commentary. That means you studied that material in 489 Lessons. That comes to 97 weeks (over one and a half years) of constant reading and comprehending this fabulous Epistle. In other words, you spent more time studying Romans than most Bible School or Seminary students. So I congratulate you on your love for God’s Word.

Romans contains the premier Doctrinal Theology of the Christian Faith. It’s like learning what parts make up a complicated pocket watch. But there another step to this process of spiritual enlightenment through the Word of God. Now you must look at the Practical Theology of the Christian Faith. Since you know what it is, how does it work, and how is it applied to your everyday Christian life.

That is found in Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians. So this is next in our curriculum. Galatians only has six chapters whereas Romans contained sixteen. So it’s a shorter distance to journey. But there is so much to learn of how all this is meant to work for us. We need to go from being young Christians in God’s Word to young adult Christians. And the Epistle to the Galatians helps us do that. Who knows, if God continues to give me strength, we may reach mature adulthood by way of Paul’s First and Second Letters to the Corinthians.

But as for now, this is Spring Break time. With my sweet and talented wife’s help, we are working on Galatians, Chapter One. I will start a new class on Facebook named: Called to Live in the Freedom of the Spirit! Now that we’ve learned how and why we were Reborn in Christ. Now it’s time to turn the coin of Grace around and see the other side that deals with how our Sanctification must be put to use. So if we do get to Corinthians we will take another step in discovering how being Baptized in the Spirit uses the coin to receive the necessary gifts and empowerment to do the work that God redeemed us to do.

I will keep you up-to-date on our progress on Galatians One, and let you know when Spring Break is over. Then we can jump in and take an exciting and invigorating journey through Paul’s letter to the Galatians. There will be a bumpy road, to begin with, as we learn of what can happen to new Christians if they don’t put their heart and soul into believing and serving God. But it ends up just fine as we discover just how much seed was planted in our souls by the indwelling Spirit upon our conversion to produce the Fruit of the Spirit. So stay tuned and we will give you updates between now and then.

I will let you know when the new class on Facebook is created so you can have time to join and have your friends join. Until then, God bless you for your faithfulness, and may He reward you greatly for your ambition in wanting to know more about Him by knowing more about His Word. – Dr. Robert R Seyda