Word Combinations and Slight Disasters!

Dedicated to all Fathers and Husbands

It is not always easy to combine specific words in an orderly fashion so that they make perfect sense to the reader.  For instance the following series of words;

1. Small but heavy antique desk
2. Sturdy six foot aluminum ladder
3. Storage rafters in a garage
4. Strong, agile 83 year old man

All of those words, combined into a paragraph, could produce a short word-picture story, describing a just-around the corner, work place accident.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and a perfect day for sitting in an easy chair, catching up on some reading material, which is exactly what I was doing.  As the pages turned, my friend Lorretta, my loving companion and wife of sixty-three years, noted that I had reached the end of the chapter.  She quietly reminded me of the need to fulfill the promise I had made two or three, maybe more, weeks earlier, concerning the moving of the antique desk out of the guest bedroom. This would allow more space for easier access in that room.  It was a simple matter; move the desk to a storage place in the rafters in the garage.

In the communication of that moment, it became quite clear that the reading of the next chapter would have to wait.  Though I was quite relaxed, I was not dressed for work in the garage.  I was wearing dress slacks, a nice Hawaiian shirt and barefoot.  However, this task was very simple, it would not take more than a couple of minutes.  I jumped up in order to perform my husbandly duties both quickly and gladly, and may I add, (sigh) finally!

Some minor details needed attention before this simple project could be completed.  One car, the red one, had to be re-positioned out of the garage in order to remove the ladder from its hanging location on the rafter.  The other car, Lorretta’s white one, would be at least three feet from the action so it was not in the way.  The ladder was carefully removed, placed in its exact location and leveled properly.   The target location in the rafters for the placement of the small, but heavy, antique desk, was carefully assessed.  The process was well in hand and shortly, I could get back to the book.

I carefully placed the antique desk next to the ladder, lifting it by my left hand while I climbed up the ladder.  The desk was heavy, but not more than I could handle.   As I climbed the ladder, I reached the place where I could grab hold of the 2 X 4 rafter with my right hand for stability while placing the desk in its target location.  The desk was in the proper angle to fit precisely into the pre-planned storage area.

However, there in the rafters, not observed earlier by yours truly, a small chair protruded slightly into the open space reserved for the antique desk.   It was inadvertently jarred by the antique table leg, being moved into the planned location.

This slight unforeseen reaction caused the small antique desk in my hand to shift to the left, causing a reaction of my body to shift to the right.  That movement caused the sturdy six-foot aluminum ladder to move in the opposite direction of the desk, causing me to release my grip on the small, but heavy, antique desk, and at the same time  tighten my right-hand grip on the rafter.

The sounds coming from the garage, at that moment, caused Lorretta to stop her ironing in the bedroom and wonder what her husband was accomplishing in the garage.    The sounds I was hearing were:

the desk kissing and scraping  my face on its way toward the floor, the sturdy six-foot aluminum ladder upon which I had been standing crashing through the safe three foot clearance and smashing onto the highly polished, rear fender of my wife’s white convertible accompanied by the unmistakable noise of the aluminum ladder      ricocheting along the rear metal fender on Lorretta’s white car, producing the grinding, scraping, denting sound of white paint being  removed from the surface of the vehicle, while the ladder continued its plummet downward toward the floor, being accompanied by the crunching sounds of the small but heavy antique desk crushing the legs of the sturdy six-foot aluminum ladder,  lying directly beneath me on the garage floor.

All of the aforementioned events occurring in near record time.

At the conclusion of this short event, while I was still hanging precariously by my right hand from the garage rafters, the following thought found its way into my mind:

“If I release the grip of my right hand from the rafter from which I am hanging, I will be able to join the ladder and desk, with all of us together, in a small pile, on the rubble beneath me on the garage floor”.

Which is precisely what I did!

…then absolute silence!

It was at this precise moment of silence that the bedroom door, leading from the garage to the inside of our lovely home, opened and who should appear but the wife of my youth.  She was simply wondering how to explain the strange sounds coming from the garage while she was in the far bedroom quietly and faithfully ironing our clothes for church the next day.

As she stood staring at me, while I was straddling the bent ladder, and with blood coming from the cut on my nose from the antique table and the cut on my shin from the aluminum ladder, she simply exclaimed.

                   “What happened to the back of my car?”

I quietly responded, while standing in the rubble, like a hurt little boy.

“The car?  What about my nose?”

It is then that my Lorretta, following a brief gasp, went immediately into the nurse mode, which is what she has had to do many times during our meaningful, eventful, sixty-three years of marriage, four children, fifteen grandchildren and twenty-four great grandchildren!

 As stated earlier, the ability to combine words in order to give meaning is very important in the world of communication and writing.  But the combination of words such as ladder, heavy, rafters, eighty-three, lifting, storage, disaster, blood and  “what happened to the back of my car!” are far more than just a combination of words.  These are the precise words needed to paint the picture of gathered events, illustrating life’s wonderful lessons.

Perhaps the question needing to be asked here is, “what are life’s wonderful lessons to be learned from the combination of these precise words and events gathered together on this beautiful Saturday afternoon”?

At this moment, I have decided to think about the answer until the up-coming, not too distant, Christmas season. That is when I will bring out the eighteen-foot extension ladder and extend it up the side of our home to place the beautiful lights and hang the Christmas decorations on the rather high eves. That could prove to be a very productive, volatile Christmas season project perhaps even my last! Could this possibly work into  a “Face-Book post?

I am also sure that before the project is fully unfolded, it will be accompanied by carefully chosen words spoken by Lorretta, my loving, concerned wife;

“Chuck, don’t forget about the $800.00 it cost to fix the car from your last adventure on the ladder.  Please, before you go up the ladder, would you move the car to the street?”

 

May our Lord Jesus Christ,

      whose birthday we celebrate,

 bring you peace and stability and joy

during His Blessed Birthday Celebration.

   Chuck and Lorretta Emert

“… there has been born for you a Savior,

who is Christ the Lord.”  Luke 2:11

Cross my heart? No! The Cross IN my heart!

“How many crosses do you have in this house?”

”How many pictures of Jesus”I am not certain!” do you have in this house?” ”You may look. I am not certain”. ”Why do you defy the state mandate and continue to have these religious relics in your house?”

The above conversation is not from a ”once upon a time” fairy tale. The words were communicated to us by a man who, years before, had stood behind the door as a ten year old boy and heard the questions shouted from the lips of a Soviet government official and then answered by his father, the pastor of the small Baptist church in that rural Russian village.

That day, the officials removed four crosses, three Bibles, two ”pictures” of Jesus, a stack of religious material and the communion dishes. The house served as the meeting place for the church since the church building was now a storage area.  The next day, the communist officials returned and removed the pastor, taken to trial, and sentenced to eight years in prison to be served in exile in Siberia.

While standing in the courtroom, before the sentence was enforced, he asked the judge and prosecutors if he could address the court.  They gave their reluctant permission.  The pastor stated that they had missed one cross but that they could not take that one away. He put his hand over his heart and explained to them that the most important cross was in his heart, the one placed there by the risen Lord Jesus Christ Himself.

His prison sentence was immediately nullified and a new sentence imposed; execution, to be carried out before the weekend. The village and his family, were forced to watch their beloved Pastor become an example to the citizens that you cannot defy the state and get away with it.  No torture, no being forced to recant, simply one bullet, shot into the back of the head, and the offense was settled.

Whether one was living in Russia, Ukraine, Lithuania, Latvia, Romania, or Albania, the stories from the late 1940’s through the 1980’s are about the same. The Cross of Jesus Christ provided the path-way to persecution, jail and/or death.

Even in the beginning days of the church age 2000 years ago, to acknowledge the redeeming work of Jesus Christ on the cross as the most important principle of life, the division between heaven and hell, right and wrong, God and Caesar, was the surest, quickest way to persecution and death.

Today, even as the history books and KGB files are opened and the papers hidden from the populace are released from their filing cabinets, the world is discovering the brutality of the forces that marched under the banner of the word ”communism”.

Remove the cross from the people, and replace it with a demonically devised philosophy, and the only things that remains are murder, mayhem, strange disappearances of people and the stifling of the populace. By removing the cross, the forces of evil also removed peace, hope and love.

In this: they failed!

It is no small wonder that the power of the Good News of Jesus Christ could not be overcome by the darkness of Communism.  Jesus Himself said, “These things have I spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world”. (John 16:33-Jeremiah Study Bible)

Not the depravity of Marx, the brutality of Stalin, 

or the ingenuity of Satan is able to thwart  the work of God, through His Son, 

the Lord Jesus Christ, on the Cross of Calvary.

          The cross was the one consistent means of survival in the darkness.

Its light was the guide during the seventy years of the empty

and vain philosophy of communism. Its hope was His ever-present power

as the people clutched the Love it represented to their hearts.

You can remove the cross from the walls of the homes, and you can take down the image of the wooden crosses that hang in the churches, but you can never remove the cross from the heart.  It is a permanent symbol, placed before the world, to reveal the unquenchable love of God through Jesus, God’s Son.  He paid the awesome price to dispel the darkness, and bring His wonderful gift of eternal life to all who believe in His death, burial and resurrection.

The little child’s phrase ”cross my heart and hope to die” is no substitute for

                    “the cross in my heart which brings hope if I must die”.

Many people left this world by martyrdom during the reign of terror brought on by the forces of wickedness and brutality of Communism.  Today, many more are facing martyrdom because of their faith in Christ. The martyrs in the past were clinging to the old rugged cross, those today are grasping the cross, and those in the future will do the same.

No, Mr. Marx, Mr. Lenin and Mr. Stalin, and all of your colleagues and former forces of communism, and future forces of terrorism,

The Cross Is Here To Stay.

I am sorry if you missed the real meaning of the cross. What you took from the walls of the homes and churches, was only the external symbol of the love and work of the Eternal God. It may have been nails holding those wooden crosses to the walls that you removed, but it was not nails that held Him to His the original cross at Calvary.  His redeeming, atoning love for the world kept Him on the cross.

I am sure that by now, you have all the information you will ever need about that Old Rugged Cross.  The information you rejected is etched deeply in the hearts of God’s believing, beloved children. Unfortunately for you, the cross is now out of your reach, forever.

 

 

 

The hymnist penned the following words;

The cross, it standeth fast, defying every blast. The winds of hell have blown, the world its hate hath shown, Yet it is not over-thrown, hallelujah for the cross.

It is the old cross still, its triumph let us tell The grace of God here shown through Christ, the blessed Son. Who did for sin atone, hallelujah for the cross.

Twas here the debt was paid, our sins on Jesus laid. So round the cross we sing of Christ, our offering, Of Christ, our living King, hallelujah for the cross.

Hallelujah for the cross, it shall never suffer loss.

(Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889  —  James McGranahan, 1840-1907)

For Lorretta on her Birthday

Chuck’s Note written for Lorretta on Mother’s Day

In Celebration of Her Birthday

 

It was a strange scene as I observed from my place,

It was quiet and the room was completely filled.

There were people there from every nation on earth

And just by being there, they were extremely thrilled.

I saw them step up, one person at a time,

As they responded to the call of their name.

There was no fear, nor anxiety there

Just a call, and a move forward as their time came.

I watched as they moved toward the center of the light,

and I became aware of the great peace in their eyes.

They had finished their tasks and now came the time

When all their efforts in life would be recognized.

The soldier stood erect, with his medals in place,

He bore the high rank of a career military man.

He stepped briskly forward at the call of his name,

He heard “Thank you, My Soldier, for fulfilling My plan”

 

He stepped back to his place, his smile could be seen,

His reward was the best he had ever received.

Just a “Thank you”, was all that he needed from Christ,

It was more than his mind could conceive.

Then a lady stepped forward as she heard her name,

She was obviously delighted to be there.

When she arrived at the place where the light was on her

She was not quite ready for that exquisitely bright glare.

But as she looked up, and her eyes saw her Lord,

She knew all her hopes had been realized.

She heard “Thank you, My child, for loving your child”

And her reward was just in seeing His eyes.

 

Then I looked up again and saw my Lorretta there;

She was called and she stepped toward the throne.

She was holding in her hand her old violin,

And as she stood there she looked quite alone.

But Jesus looked down at my beautiful one,

And smiling He spoke gently to my wife.

“Thank you, Lorretta, for your service for Me.

You have loved Me your entire adult life.

 

You have served Me in prayer for your husband and kids.

You have labored in ministry and kept your life pure.

You moved wherever I have called you and Chuck to go,

Russia or Romania; you knew that in Me you were secure

 

You have practiced and played and cried some too,

Because the music placed before you was tough.

But you worked and prayed and practiced some more

And you conquered the music, though it was rough.

 

 Thank you, Lorretta, please accept My special reward.

All those who have heard you play have been blessed.

The music you performed brought glory to My Name;

Now your arthritic fingers can finally have rest”.

 

Lorretta just stood there, not saying a word;

 Then she did a strange but interesting thing.

She looked into the eyes of the Savior she loved

And held up her old violin with its strings.

She gave it to Jesus, and He took it and said,

“Thank you for this gift you’ve given to Me.

But in fact you gave it to Me a long time ago,

By playing it for My glory for all to see”.

He turned and He placed it in His large trophy case

Which was filled with some memorable things.

I saw some nails there, and the handle of a spear,

An axe, a manger, some small rocks and a sling.

There were other items there that I was unable to see

But I saw where that Old Violin was laid.

It had some cracks and the bridge was quite worn

But Lorretta made music for Jesus whenever she played.

I am sure that our lives are going to end soon,

And our effort at living here will finally cease.

But our Lord has already prepared our real home;

It is waiting for us following our earthly release.

At that moment, my wife, prayer-partner and friend,

will hear these precious spoken words from His throne.

“You have been a good steward with your gifts, My faithful one,

Now here are the keys for your glorious, eternal home.”

 

 

 

 

A Crisis Solver from Canada

“Dr. Emert, can you meet with us for Prayer?”  Not an unusual request from the leadership of the small Bible College in Maykop, Russia, but for some reason, that morning, there seemed to be a call of urgency interweaving and flowing though the words.

Sergei and Elia and their wives spent the weekend in fasting and prayer.

It was 7:30 A. M. classes were to start at nine and the students were expecting this to be a normal Monday of classes; breakfast, Chai break, lunch, dinner and study. The dining was always in two shifts to accommodate the size of the room.  Sixteen could eat at one sitting and the first group had already entered the dining room. When they were through, unlike the normal meals in Russia, the students would quickly vacate the dining room to make ready for the next shift of eaters. The mealtime was spent eating. Talking took place afterwards. But when you only have one small room for the feeding of thirty students, you had to readjust, and these Russians knew how to readjust!

While the students were eating, Elia, Sergei, and I stepped into the small room serving as an office. Sergei, the school’s director and Elia, the associate, quietly explained to me that we needed to pray because the school was out of money. Lorretta and I had given $100.00 USD just the week before to the school so that they could purchase some very needy supplies. However, the food was not part of the “needy supplies”. The money paid the rent for the building and bought some petrol for the car of the director, and helped to bring in some paper and supplies for the office. Sergei and Elia and their wives had spent the weekend in fasting and prayer for the needs of this new work. Meanwhile, the students were enjoying their breakfast and getting prepared for classes. Our prayer time that morning was both specific and intense. “Lord, we need money and food! It had not been many days before this that the students had gone into the hills to collect mushrooms and berries for their evening meal. It sounds as if that will be our “Morning Information Item” for them at class time. I checked my wallet and realized that we were awaiting the courier to arrive from America with our cash for the month. We were receiving $500.00 per month for the both of us while we were serving in Russia. It was not a lot of money, but we were doing just fine. If we had been receiving more, we could not have spent it because there was nothing to buy!

So the short-fall of cash in my wallet and no cash in theirs made our prayer time, as I said, “specific and intense”. Once we had prayed to the only One who could turn this situation around, the issue was over. The circumstances had not changed, the food was still needed, the funding was still short, but the issue was now out of our hands. We would watch God work again here in this city of 100,000, in the far east of Russia.

As we left the office that early Monday morning, Tanya (Elia’s wife and my translator) asked if we could all go to the main market in Maykop that day because Friday was the big market day. Elia had to tell her that we were waiting for God to bring in the money so that we could go. There was no disappointment in her expression, simply the acknowledgment that that was O. K. She smiled her sweet, broad smile, stepped into the classroom and took her place at the front of the room to wait for her translating responsibilities for our class that day. I stood and looked.

How can I stand before them without the necessary tools to study and learn and communicate? The thoughts captivated my mind. I am to stand before young people who have suffered for their faith. They have paid a price to be Christians! They have faced intense persecution. They have family members in prison because they openly proclaimed Jesus as their savior. These students have been expelled from or been prevented from attending the university in their city because of their faith. And I have no books!

Now, I come to the crux of the matter! This was our fifth week in Russia. I had been teaching in this new school for two weeks. None of my teaching supplies (books, notes, papers) had arrived from Moscow. I had my Ryrie Study Bible and my Scoffield Reference Bible. I said, I had my Ryrie Study Bible and my Scoffield Reference Bible. That was it! As I stood in the classroom the week before and taught, I prayed for the next thoughts to come back to my mind. The Lord in His grace brought back so many words from the text that I was sorry that I was not recording them because I think that they were better than the ones in my notes. What a way to grow!

I cannot remember today how I was able to think slowly enough for Tanya to translate, and while she was translating, I was preparing the next section. But, now, the books, the parchments, the writings are not here! What am I to do about the lessons that these students need to hear on trusting God? Where are my lecture notes on faith? Where are the commentaries that will help me teach these new believers that God heard their prayers? How can I stand before them without the necessary tools to study and learn and communicate? The thoughts captivated my mind. I am to stand before young people who have suffered for their faith. They have paid a price to be Christians! They have faced intense persecution. They have family members in prison because they openly proclaimed Jesus as their savior. These students have been expelled from or been prevented from attending the university in their city because of their faith. And I have no books!

That is when the realization hits that I should be in the seats and these students should be teaching. They have learned the lessons! They have asked in faith and the answer comes. They have moved the mountain. They have crossed the river on dry ground, and it’s me, Oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer!

God had arranged for them to arrive at the point of the crisis.

As I am standing at the door of the office, the thoughts of my pity-party were suddenly interrupted. Two men from Canada, one a Pastor, were passing through the Maykop region on their way to Ukraine. They were standing at the front gate. They had heard on their journey from a Canadian missionary that a small Bible college had started in Maykop that year. When they arrived in the city that morning, they stopped a militia man on the street and asked if he knew of the college and he told them that it was meeting in the home of his neighbor.  He directed them to our location. A student brought them to the office as we were walking out.

Our introductions took place and they stated that they were on their way to Ukraine to visit one of their Missionaries. We had a wonderful but brief time of fellowship. It was approaching nine and I was about to excuse myself to step into the classroom when the men stated that they had been commissioned by their church in Canada to dispense some monies to the new Bible colleges in Maykop and Krasnodar. Since I was the first full time American teacher, they wanted me to be present.

The Pastor reached into his briefcase and took out a small envelope and handed it to me. It was not my college and I passed the envelope to Sergei and Elia. They opened it very slowly only to discover 15 $100.00 bills in United States currency. Neither Sergei nor Elia had ever held $1,500.00 in their hands. At that point in the exchange rate, one American dollar would buy 1155 Rubles. That would mean 1,730.000 Rubles were available to the school for ministry. The Canadians related that they reached Russia in the previous week and were trying to get to Maykop since Friday but had faced multiple difficulties in getting to Maykop. But God had arranged for them to arrive at the point of the crisis.

Tanya and Elia would be going shopping for food and supplies, and they invited us for our first trip to the mall in Maykop, Russia.

And Chuck?

He would be discussing faith with himself!

Not his, but the faith of these young believers

who were learning to trust God

through every circumstance in life

under the direction of their Almighty God

 

And their American Teacher?

Hum!

Who should be the teacher here? (not me!)

And who should be the learner here?  (not them!)

 

Being Content in the Small Things!

 

What an awesome experience! To awake in the morning with…

a song in your head,

a spring in your step,

 a good insurance plan,

a roof over your head,

a car parked in your garage,

food on your table,

clothes for your body,

a job for the day,

a market in which to shop,

Life affords many great opportunities and we sometimes have the responsibility to decide which of the opportunities in which we will engage ourselves. There are times, however, and there are places, when the decision is not ours to make regarding a good insurance plan, (what is insurance?)

or a good roof over your head, (what is a house?)

or a car parked in your garage, (a car!…a garage?)

or food on your table (if I go into the hills and find it!)

or clothes on my body (same ones as last week and last month)

or a job (not my choice to make)

or a market in which to shop (have you seen a market?)

No Car? No Problem

This morning, the city of Maykop, Russia, was quietly arising from its night of sleep and its weekend of drinking, and its concern regarding the problems of the military in Moscow.  The four cars that “lived” on our street were trying to start. Two were successful, but the other two did not respond. The hand crank was unable to turn over the motor. So, that took care of the blue Lada. The other, an older Vasile, at least that is what we were told it was, needed more help than was available in the city of Maykop.  The motorcycle with the side car still had a flat tire. The former military eighteen wheeler truck, owned by a local business man, was still in the ditch. But its driver was now awake and out of the truck and wondering how he managed to get that big truck that far into the ditch.

So, the week started with its normal words of ”WelI, that’s Russia”.  It was starting out to be a normal Russian morning. In this small city, there are approximately 50 cars per 1000 people. That may be a correct statistic, but I am not certain that that means there are 50 ”working” cars per 1000 people.

Appreciating the Simple Things

We arrived at the college a bit late that morning because we had to stop and pump up the tire. It had a perennial and persistent and may I insert aggravating slow leak that only affected the tire when the vehicle was moving or needed. It stayed up rather nicely through the night but during the drive, it lost its air. The car was actually very comfortable, and we were thankful that Elijah had a pump for the occasion. He was well equipped for any eventual problem and quite handy. The Russian people had the necessary “know-how” to keep their cars on the road.

The student’s and the kitchen staff (the same) were busy cleaning up the kitchen when we arrived, having just fed breakfast to the first group of students. This morning’s breakfast consisted of hot tea, three varieties of delicious bread, some jam and some spaghetti which had been left over from the Sunday evening meal. All were very happy, because there would be times during the next three weeks that they would have far less to choose from for breakfast.

It usually did not take long for the clean up to take place because they did not have to heat up the water from the well. They had no soap so they simply rinsed off the dishes and utensils, wiped them as clean as possible, and placed them back on the table for the next group who would be coming in for breakfast. The room where the meals were served was about 9 feet wide and 14 feet long.

It was very bright and clean, One-half of the students would eat in the first shift, clean up the dishes and set them for the next group. There were 26 students, three leaders, and Lorretta and me. They could seat 15 in the room. The kitchen was 6 feet by 4 feet and was always crowded with happy people. They were rejoicing at God’s great provision for a place to slay, a place to study and the blessings of a place to eat the food that God always provided. The abundance of praise for the food was always greater than the quantity of food they had to eat.

Godliness and Contentment are great Gain

As soon as breakfast was concluded, the students gathered for the first teaching session. They never had to be ”prodded” to come into the class room. It seemed as if the first session always passed quickly, and we went into ”the chai break” where they gathered so they could talk with Lorretta and try to teach both of us Russian. They were never fully successful but the laughter they had in the process of trying to teach us, and listen to us as we tried to pronounce the Russian words, still rings in our ears.

For lunch that day we had spaghetti soup, the left-over spaghetti from the previous evening and breakfast. There was an abundance of bread and chai and it was appreciated by the students. It was a warm meal and the students praised God for His bountiful provision. The students went out today and collected many mushrooms that grow wild in the hills around the school property. This would be part or all of their evening meal. Boiling water and with sliced, fresh mushroom added for their Mushroom soup.  The breads of Russia had no preservatives and hardened very quickly but was always good for dipping in the mushroom soup.  They also used oils and salt to the breads for an extremely tasty addition to their meals.

Our afternoon was spent with the staff discussing how we would grade the student’s papers and how I would be able to make charts to hand to the students.  There was no Xerox, or copy machine, or mimeograph machine available which meant that they would have to copy the notes by hand. This would be slow, but it was the best and only process.  They would have to finish the copying before dark because there were no lights in the building.

The black board, a 2′ X 3′ part of a former wall, was hanging by a string behind what was called the teaching podium. The chalk was taken off the trim from the walls on the inside of the house. They always kept the board clean and were excited that they had it.

The Apostle Paul would have done well in Maykop, Russia because he wrote, ”Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state l am to be content” (Philippians 4:11) Thanks, Paul, l am also trying to be content.

Meanwhile, back in the class room, I said, ”You, the tall one, Yes, you. Will you please reach up on that wall and pull off another piece of Chalk?

Thank you!”

. . . and we continued with the lesson on how David, in 1 Samuel 21 & 22, along with Psalm 34  trusted his God in very difficult times,

and I was the teacher.

You have got to be kidding.

These students should be teaching us,

and believe me . . .they did!