Tag Archives: God

The Melting Point

Depending upon the compound or matter, melting points vary reaching 2500 degrees Fahrenheit for steel, 113 for wax and a mere 32 for ice to begin to melt.  However, if you referring to the melting point of individual’s, this fluctuates daily as each day provides various fuels to ignite or cool someone off before tempers flare.  Essentially, there is only so much a person can take before they snap, as the emotions inside boil over at, into and toward another soul who just happened to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

From a spiritual perspective, the melting point can also refer to depression, when someone has suffered so much heart ache that their desire for caring melts away like a candle without any more wax or wick.  Thus, a callous heart is formed, afraid to love or let love in, unwilling to be burned again.  King David eludes to this in Psalm 22:14, “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint.  My heart has turned to wax, it has melted away within me.”  When you feel that God has forgotten about you or passed you over in favor of someone else, you may reach a similar melting point.

This same factor can also be applied to spiritual fire, mentioned by a teenager pastor in 2 Timothy 1:6, a byproduct of putting into practice the gifts God has given you.  Beside anger and depression, applying your talents daily can provide purpose for individuals looking to grasp one of life’s certainties.  Despite what goes on around you, when you are in sync with God, the other things that use to bother you seem to fade.  Therefore, as long you know your part in the concert of life, Romans 12:6-8, you’ll be able to distinguish what note to play and when to play it according to C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity.  Until you discover this balance, you just might reach your melting point.

by Jay Mankus

On the Other Side of the Street

One of the cliches I heard way too often growing up was, “if the shoe fits wear it.”  I’m still not exactly sure where this phrase originated or what it’s intended purpose served, yet I have learned to distinguish my strengths from my weaknesses over time.  When it comes to death, dying, injuries and wheelchairs, I’m at a loss, leaving me uncomfortable and unqualified to handle these environments.

Perhaps, this may explain why God forced me to visit the other side of the street last week.  When you reach a certain age, suffer a debilitating  injury or endure an accident, these individuals all share something in common, they are helpless.  As you enter this arena, self sufficiency is no longer an option with souls needing another person to help them up, take their hand and nurture them back to health.  Normally a quick healer, this is mostly foreign to me except for a few broken bones here and a surgery there.

In biblical times, there were no nursing homes or retirement centers to spend your final years on earth.  Your destiny was determined by your family, their generosity and wealth necessary to provide affordable care.  As the modern family dissolves into some type of dysfunctional reality television show, its no wonder that the amount of beggars and homeless continue to increase, showing up at most busy intersections where I live.  Abandoned by their families, friends and employers, these desperate people are like prodigal sons and daughters waiting for their father to welcome them back home.  Until this day, those living on the other side of the street which need prayers, support and a helping hand to get them back on the road to recovery.

by Jay Mankus

The Fraility of the Human Heart

Since Thursday afternoon at 5pm, my life has been a whirlwind of emotions.  After a successful second interview at Amazon on Wednesday, I sensed a promotion in the near future, trying to stayed reserved until I hear the news.   A little more than 24 hours later, my focus switched toward a battle to live, unable to stand or breath on my own.   One second I felt like I was having a heart attack, the next a CAT Scan revealed a pocket of blood around my lungs and liver.

For the past 3 days, I have had a tube sucking the blood out of these 2 areas trying to prevent infection.  Until this improves, I am in limbo, getting stronger, but still waiting on my internal bleeding to stop.  Unfortunately, my body is not healing as quick as it use to in the days of my youth.  Thus, life has been put on hold temporarily, in God’s hand and in His time as I wrestle with the Fraility of the human heart.

God has taught me a subtle lesson these past few days, He’s in control no matter what I try to do.   Though I usually try to speculate about the future, I am helpless, trusting in God’s grace to get me through this ordeal.  Sooner or later, my odds of improvement increase, yet the Lord knows the next steps that I will take.  As for now, time is the enemy, placing me behind where I want to be as the reality of life’s fraility has come crashing through the front door of my heart.

by Jay Mankus

One Shining Moment

As the 2014 Winter Olympics begin Friday, February 7th in Sochi, Russia, I am reminded of the drama previous events have delivered.  Whether it’s a human interest story, someone rising to the challenge of stiff competition or the 1980 United States Hockey Team who came out of no where to defeat the U.S.S.R. and earn a gold medal one game later.  Thus, as viewers tune in from all over the world to watch next weekend, who will be the next star, who shocks their fellow competitors with one shining moment of gold.

Looking back on my not so allustrious athletic career, most of the sports I played in high school were held off sight in a relatively obscure locations like local golf courses and State Parks.  The only sport I participated in with bleachers was swimming, my weakest talent by far.  Yes, my 200 Individual Medal Relay did earn a bronze medal at the 1986 State Meet held at the University of Delaware’s pool, but my lack of speed cost us the gold.  Yet, in one of my last high school races as a senior, God moved me to swim faster than I ever had before.  Despite dabbling in butterfly, back and free style, the 100 yard breast was my strongest stroke and race.

Leading our arch rival Brandywine by a point heading into the final 2 events, I was facing a cross town swimmer who was 1 second faster on average throughout the season.  Typically, the number 1 swimmer swam the inside lanes, a little faster than the 2 outside lanes due to the wake splashing back into swimmers.  However, just before stepping on the starting block, their top breast stroker switched lanes to shadow me in lane 1.  After 25 yards I was slightly behind, pulling even by the halfway mark.  Since the bleachers were right on top of lane 1, I began to hear a roar from lane 2 as I approached the final turn.  The noise of the crowd, filled me adrenaline, causing me to go faster and faster as I touched the final wall, finish line.  As I looked up, the noise was deafening as members of the final relay applauded my victory by 4 seconds, shattering my PR by 3 seconds.  In addition, our other swimmer passed both of Brandywine’s breast strokers in the final 5 yards to earn second and mathematically clinch the win.

As great as this experience felt, there is only one other shining moment that compares.  While in college I was asked to help out at a lock-in by my high school swim coach who had become a youth pastor.  During the festivities, I was drawn to a kid who was called Satan by his peers.  Yeah, he had a mean streak inside of him that was pure evil, but the Holy Spirit moved me to minister to him.  Layer by layer, like peeling an onion, God began to show me the defense mechanism that he had created to prevent his heart from being broken again.  During an altar call late in the night, I led this young man to invite Jesus into his heart, Romans 10:9-10.  Able to fulfill the words of James 5:19-20, I sensed another round of applause, this time from heaven.  “I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety nine righteous persons who do not repent,” Luke 15:7.  May you experience multiple spiritual shining moments in not just during the Olympics, but throughout life.

by Jay Mankus

What’s God’s Handle?

Before the day’s of cell phones, internet and twitter, one of the most popular means of communication was CB radio.   The 1977 classic Smokey and the Bandit starring Bert Reynolds glorified this coded form of conversation.  In this film, Smokey referred to highway patrolmen, especially those setting speed traps for truckers.  Snowman was Cledus’ handle, played by Jerry Reed, who drove an 18 wheeler full of 400 cases of Coors Beer and Bandit was Reynold’s nickname, who teamed up with fellow drivers to escape the police and fulfill their dare with Big and Little Enos, driving 2 vehicles from Georgia to Texas just in time for a big celebration.

In the 2003 Pilot episode, Amber Tamblyn plays Joan Girardi, a high school junior trying to comprehend God’s handle on life during Season 1 of Joan of Arcadia.  Through a series of strange events, Joan’s not sure if she’s crazy, delirious or actually able to hear God speak.  Afraid to tell others she is communicating with God, Joan starts to subtly ask others their opinions about the Lord’s existence, trying to make sense of her bizarre encounters.  Finally, after obeying God’s first assignment slowly, she lays down to sleep, removing her headphones, hoping to discern God’s voice, waiting in silence, like an old CB radio with static.

The most difficult part of adjusting to God’s Handle, the still small voice of the Holy Spirit, 1 Kings 19:12, as your volume is not always tuned up.  However, when you do make a conscience effort to hear God, sometimes you may want to turn the dial to another channel because you’re not happy with what you hear.  This is where Free will enters the equation.  If you are able to watch the first season of Joan of Arcadia, CBS and the writers of the show do a valiant job of illustrating moments of obedience and disobedience.  Although the nature of God is flawed by Joan Osborne’s song “What if God was one of us,” the premise challenges the audience to ponder, “what’s God’s handle?”

by Jay Mankus

My Hidden Faults

Behind the facade, mirage and show played out in real life, lies imperfections tainted by sin.  In the emergency room on Monday night, I was confronted by images of reality television.  In fact, I haven’t scene this much diversity since I went to traffic court in Ohio following a head on collision in college.  To my surprise, 3 Amish teenagers were arrested for driving their buggy’s while intoxicated after crashing into a neighbors yard.  All you have to do is spend 1 day in the court and emergency rooms to see faults that were once hidden now out in the open for all to see.

I guess you can say I am not the most patient person in the world as demonstrated by my lead foot driving.  However, my patience was put to the test last night as I felt like a cast member on the Jerry Springer show.  I was surrounded by a woman involved in a domestic violence dispute and a boy who crashed his brother’s car driving without a license or insurance.  Between complaining, distress and periodical groans, I felt like saying, “shut up and suck it up!”  Common sense kept me from speaking my mind, but my heart was convicted by my inability to handle this trial with maturity.

Instead of using my accident to be a loving example of Christ, I turned into Oscar the Grouch.  Perhaps, I should have ate a Snickers Bar.  When push comes to shove, character rises to the surface and for me, I still have a long way to go.  This crisis opened a fresh can of worms, exposing my hidden faults of impatience and selfishness.  In the future, I must live out Psalm 19:13, so that I will flee from willful sins that can separate you from God.  May the promise of James 5:16  set me free from my once hidden faults.

by Jay Mankus

Passing on a Winter Tradition

One of my most fondest memories as a child was playing in the snow.  My parents had a toboggan that  our family would pile on, going down steep hills on golf courses or at state parks.  When the snow was too high to drive any where, I created a luge slide off of our back steps or went across the street to Jeanette’s.  Although I never went as fast as I did on the toboggan, I always looked forward to building bigger and better courses each year.

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When my 3 children were still young, I began to make a short slope off the back deck.  Although my wife wasn’t initially thrilled with the idea, its become a winter tradition, that is of course when we get snow in Delaware.  Over time, this luge course has turned into extreme tubing, starting on top of a slide on the deck, continuing down the steps of my deck, guided by picnic table benches, winding around a U-shaped wall before ending some where near the back fence.  Who said adults couldn’t still have fun or be a kid at heart.

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Anyway, with my oldest son now in driver’s ed, it won’t be long until there’s an empty nest with no one left to entertain or raise.  Thus, I hope I cherish each snow day that I have with my children before they’re all grown up.  While my body isn’t what it use to be, I still enjoy playing hard and passing on an appreciation for life.  In the end, I pray that my children will develop their own winter traditions, thanking God each time it snows.

by Jay Mankus

911

There are moments in life when God reminds you, “you’re not as young as you use to be!”  On Monday, an Evil Knievel like accident tubing brought me to my knees, lying in pain and waiting for an ambulance to take me to the hospital.  In a flash, the ability to walk vanished  as I was placed a stretcher with a neck brace, helpless as this reality set in.

More embarrassed than anything, I had 5 hours to contemplate how this injury might impact my life.  Paralyzed by fear, I began to quote verses from the Bible as each came to my mind.  Although still in pain, a sense of peace calmed my nerves, causing a spirit of optimism to enter my soul.  While seconds slowly ticked away, I began to feel my back every couple of minutes to determine a diagnosis.

By the 4 hour mark of waiting in a hallway, the doctor in me narrowed my injury to my ribs, kidney and or spleen.  Anxiously hoping for an x-ray, I was set free from my back and neck brace as the drugs kicked in, erasing most of the pain.  However, I was still a hurdle away from being released and given a clean bill of health.  Despite falling 3 feet, crashing into a table and shattering it to pieces, I came home late Monday night with a welt on my right side.  Within this 911 emergency, only the power of God can take credit for a miraculous recovery from this stupid incident.

by Jay Mankus

Say What?

Now that the 2014 NFL Pro Bowl is over or should I say Jerry Rice verses Dion Sanders, the hype for Super Bowl XLVIII can now officially begin.  While this game will match Denver’s NFL best offense against Seattle’s top ranked defense, the media can’t stop talking about Richard Sherman’s post game rant following his team’s victory in the NFC Championship.  Apparently upset by remarks made by 49ers wide receiver Michael Crabtree last off season, Sherman sounded like a little kid, illuminating poor sportsmanship.

However, what’s more alarming is the media’s justification and rationale for his behavior.  Most experts chalk this up to the heat of the moment, taking place inside the lines of the football field.  Though a few reporters were turned off by a lack of class displayed by Sherman, it seems like in 2014 its okay to be rude as long as you have a good excuse.  I can hear Gary Coleman shouting out his classic line now, “what’s you talking about Willis?”  Maybe I’m simply old fashion or old school, but this verbal assault and continuing coverage is a clear sign of America’s fall from grace toward a society heading toward paganism.

Well, perhaps my words are a little strong, but what is happening to this once great country?  Malls, Movie Theaters and Schools have become shooting galleries for people to take out their frustrations in life.  While the bullied are seeking revenge, God is still waiting for America to open the door, letting Him back into public education.  As psychologists express their opinions on cable news networks trying to make sense of today’s moral dilemma, the Richard Sherman’s in life will continue trash talking until someone bigger, better or both comes along to shut them up.  Only time will tell the final outcome of the Super Bowl and America’s “Say What” culture.

by Jay Mankus

A Place That Will Change Your Life Forever

On earth, travel agencies will try to convince clients of a sweet deal, hidden gem or destination that will change your life.  As spring approaches, television commercials will display eye popping images as states hope your summer plans include a family vacation to one their resorts.  While memories can be forever etched into your mind, the thought of work quickly snaps individuals back to reality, ending any memorable getaway.

From a spiritual perspective, people may recall the place they got baptized, the church they were married in or a retreat center where they met God for the first time.  Inside a sanctuary, family’s tend to gravitate toward their favorite pew, stare at magnificent stain glass windows or recall taking their first communion.  According to Exodus 29:37, the altar made for the Tent of Meeting possessed supernatural powers, making those priests who touched it holy.  While not the Tent of Meeting, the altar at a church in Friendship, Maryland changed my life forever.

During my senior year of college, I was asked to serve on a Lay Witness Mission team for a church seeking to revive its congregation.  My role was to be a small group leader for the youth group and its college students, sharing how God had made a difference in my life.  Usually, one of the leaders was asked to share part of their faith journey, a snapshot of their life.  On Saturday night, our leader Ken told me that I would be speaking to the entire congregation Sunday morning.  Caught off guard, my initial instinct was fear, pondering, “how can someone who stutters speak for 15 minutes?”

Subsequently, I was led to pray, asking the Holy Spirit and my roommate to clue me in on what God wanted me to say to several hundred strangers.  Tossing and turning, I was reminded of a song that I brought, called The Altar.  Studying the lyrics in my mind, a vision for my first sermon was conceived, drifting me off into a peaceful sleep.  As I made my closing remarks, I gave an altar call, inviting anyone who was touched by the Holy Spirit to come to the altar while I played Ray Boltz’s song.

To my amazement, one college student literally ran to the altar as soon as the song began.  Others quickly, followed, filling up the semi-circle shaped altar in front of the pulpit.  When the music ended, people were standing in line, waiting to kneel at the altar.  Elders and leaders of the church began to lay hands on those crying, quietly whispering words up to heaven on their behalf.  As I joined the congregation following my message, the senior pastor shared a few words, summarizing these amazing events of this 3 day event, encouraging people to continue lay their burdens up to Jesus at the altar, Matthew 11:28.  On earth, there are countless wonders of the world, but for me, I will never forget this day when lives were changed forever at the altar.

by Jay Mankus