Fat Meat's Greasy

I just learned the phrase above this week.  The usage is generally given when one is quite skeptical, or just refuses to believe what is obvious.  You react to seeing them firmly entrenched in not acknowledging the truth, and say "They just refuse to believe that fat meat's greasy."

You ever feel like sometimes you are like that when it comes to recognizing how good God is?  All you can see is the negative, bogged down in the mire and only looking down, stinging from the pain of life, consequences of sin, consequences of other's sin, consequences of living in a fallen world?

Oh I of little faith.  That is kind of depressing...wait, I sense a cycle here.

At any rate, sometimes I get those loving dope slaps from God, very gentle and loving, to remind me who is in control, and what is His nature.

I had given ICCC in Tegucigalpa some Bibles to distribute to those that start Bible studies via the Church's devotion outreach in the clinic.  Bibles out of inventory, out of mind.  I asked pastor Miguel if he could get some pictures of handing those out, for some accountability, but mostly to encourage those that donate...see, they really do go to good homes (homes that I might add, more often than not...own not a book, let alone the Good book)

This Sunday I happened to walk up to Miguel, and this nice lady did at the same time.  And then he looked at me and said...how about a picture right now, you are witnessing the hand off of one of the Bibles the mission gave us!  The timing could have been off by a few seconds and I would have missed it.  Lots of little steps along the way by lots of people, and I get to be the lucky guy to see this as one of the steps as well.  As Joey from Blossom would say..."whoa"

This picture is hard to make out, as I did not want to intrude too much.  We have tried to have groups paint murals around the clinic property when their talents are up for the challenge.  They are pretty, they are encouraging, but...so what?  At least, that thought creeps into my mind from time to time.  I happened to be outside and saw this family unit walking down through the murals after finishing at the clinic to take family pictures of each other, they spent quite a while in this little area enjoying it.

People do notice.

We have built buildings, we have painted them...some nicer than others.

Waiting for Cecilia to finish in Sunday school, I had forgotten a group from JAX helped build these Sunday school rooms...and get up early for days to paint them as well.  That was about a decade ago.

The paint fades, the building will not last...but the teaching, the instruction, the examples and testimonies given will last.

Father help me to not just see with my eyes the truth of who You are, and what You do.  Mercifully, lead me to know, feel, and sense that.