Description
Speaker: Glenn Rawson
Hi, this is Glenn Rawson. One of the most powerful ways to share history and heritage is by the telling of stories. We began sharing inspiring stories nearly 30 years ago. Each of those stories is true and was intended to inspire and strengthen faith. Over the years, those stories have reached millions around the world. This podcast is for you to listen, learn and enjoy.
First Story: Gone in a Single Morning
Last night I saw it. I was coming home, a large Caterpillar trackhoe parked very close, shut down and waiting at the back of the house. Now that thing was parked too close to be normal. I looked again over my left shoulder at the house. It was a beautiful two-storey brick home, well appointed with carefully landscaped grounds. It seemed a lovely home that anyone would be grateful to have. Well, I sort of put it out of my mind.
This morning, I woke up about 5am and went out for a run just about 20 minutes before sunrise. I didn’t think about it. But about an hour into that run, I was on my return league coming home and I happened to come right past that house. I turned the corner just in time to see the long boom and claw on the track hoe reach up above the roof out and demolish the entire front section of that gorgeous home.
The claws came down over the front entryway of the home, and it collapsed into the rubble, that was the rest of the house, under the tracks of that mechanical beast.
I stood there for a moment. I stopped running and watched. And then I kept going. I felt a strange, sad feeling. What a beautiful home. I imagined in my mind the family or families that might have lived, loved and felt joy and made memories there. And now [both the home and the family] are gone.
The potential joy and security of that home is no more. I thought of the weeks, months and even years that had taken to build that home and create those beautiful grounds. And it was gone in a single destructive morning. I later went back this afternoon. And all that was left was a hole and a pile of broken concrete.
Now, I know it was necessary for the onward march of human progress and those machines are marvelous. They’re cool to watch. But to me, it still felt sad. I reflected throughout the day. How that home literally is like our homes, figuratively.
Evil, destructive forces stand ready, waiting, watching and at the first opportunity they attack, usually from behind when and where we least expect and in a single moment of choice can destroy a loving family that took decades to build. And all that is left in their wake is an emotional crater, and the shattered rubble of human hearts.
President Nelson taught the women of the church in the October 2020 conference.
“As turmoil rages around us. We need to create places where we are safe, both physically and spiritually. When your home, he said, becomes a personal sanctuary of faith where the Spirit resides, your home becomes the first line of defense.”
And so, of course, where is it that the evil one can maximize the most misery for the least amount of effort in our homes? The attack on our homes, gone. All gone in a single morning.
Second Story: State Trooper 05:11
I got an email today from Russell Bateman chiding me just a little bit, and I deserve it. Probably some of you are getting tired of trucking cowboy stories. But what can I say? It’s the way I grew up, its history. And besides that, for some reason, I seem to learn more in the seat or the saddle than I did anywhere else when I was younger. So pardon me for one more truck story. And then I hope I’m out. I hope I’m done.
This happened years ago. It’s published in the midst of the book, at least the first part is. Years ago, I left home in Blackfoot. I was going out on a Saturday morning headed for Wyoming. I was driving across highway 30 in a big rig, headed out on a beautiful early Saturday morning and I was thoroughly enjoying the day. It was just about sunrise.
Now I was on that stretch of highway 30, which at that time, had a 65 mile per hour speed limit. Except the part I was on was 55. But I thought I was on the 65 and I was driving like it was 65. You see the problem?
There I was tooling along in the Gym Valley, taking in the scenery, enjoying the day, loving life when all of a sudden, I passed an Idaho State Trooper coming the other way. But I didn’t give him much thought. Why should I? I was legal, wasn’t I? And he said,
“Hey, Handy,” a deep voice said.
“Yes,” I answered.
“You’re going 69 miles-per hour.”
I laughed kind of nervously, “Yes.” I – I knew who it was.
And then he said with kind of a drawl, “You have an extra $53 you don’t know what to do with?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll keep it.”
“55 will do just fine,” he said firmly.
“Okay, thank you.”
Then you could almost see the grin on that officer’s face as he added, “You owe me.”
I said, “that I do.” And I went on my way down the road, relieved and chuckling to myself. And you know, I obeyed that speed limit for the rest of the day very carefully.
I thought about that situation later, that officer could have really taken it to me. And you would have to drive a big rig to get the full scope of this. People who drive four wheelers, [cars] don’t understand this. But guys who drive trucks do, all that officer would have had to have done and he had every right to do it was stop me. I was breaking the law. He could have pulled me over, inspected my rig and cited me and a host of other things. If he wanted to, he could have put me out of service. I’m sure he could have found something. He could have really, to borrow a phrase thrown the book at me. But he didn’t. And at least for my case, he didn’t have to. It wasn’t necessary.
I’m pretty conscientious about obeying the law and traffic laws. All I needed was a reminder, a gentle reminder. And that’s what I got.
Now, here’s where my mind went after that. We mortals [and especially this one] are not perfect. Far from it. We all break the laws of God as President Nelson said, We stumbled from time to time. And when you think about it, if God wanted to, he could be pretty harsh with us. But that’s not his way.
For those of us (those of you) that are trying, he doesn’t need to be harsh, judgmental and throw the book at you. He’s merciful, kind, gentle, and he’s persistently persuasive with reminders.
In fact, a hymn suddenly opened up to my mind on that day. And to me it says everything about the parenting style of Heavenly Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. The hymn says:
“How gentle God’s commands,
How kind His precepts are
Cast your burdens on the Lord
And trust is constant care.”
Third Story: How Gentle
Some of you may have heard or read that story, this is the rest of the story. Those words were penned by Philip K. Doddridge, an English nonconformist minister in England, about the late 18th century as I recall.
Philip’s paternal grandfather, John Doddridge, was a minister in the Church of England 17th century in 1662. John Doddridge stood against the King of England, in defense of his principles and convictions and for so doing, was ejected from his position in the church.
Philip’s other grandfather was John Bauman. As a Lutheran minister, Bauman was forced to flee Prague because of religious persecution in 1626. He came to England.
Philip was born of that heritage, the twentieth of twenty children. By the age of 13, Philip was an orphan and only one sister (out of 20) survived to adulthood. In time Philip Doddridge turned from the study of law and trained for the ministry. When invited to prepare for a position in the Church of England, as a minister, he declined, choosing instead to retain his independence. He would not be part of a state-mandated church.
His first lessons in faith had come at his mother’s knee and undoubtedly she had brought him to cherish the legacy and the principles of their grandfathers.
In time, Philip became a Presbyterian minister at a time and in a place of religious contention. Yet, having seen enough of intolerance and bigotry, Philip sought tirelessly for healing and unity. One biographer said this of him,
“Doddridge carried out his own ideal with great fidelity and with conspicuous success, doing more than any man in the 18th century to obliterate old party lines, and to unite nonconformists on a common religious ground. He did not escape the criticisms both of the zealots who maintained a higher standard of ‘orthodoxy,’ that is to say of Calvinism, and of the class of thinkers who practically met the deism of the age halfway.”
Moreover, [that’s not enough] not only did Doddridge seek unity but he was in a worthy sense of the word – a Christian who understood the second great commandment. He cared for the poor, no matter their religious persuasions.
In 1737, he “set up a charity school’ for teaching and clothing the children of the poor. He had an important share in the foundation of the county infirmary – a hospital. He proposed the formation of a society for distributing bibles and other good books among the poor. His scheme for the advancement of the gospel at home and abroad, presented to three different assemblies of ministers in 1741, has been described as the first nonconformist project of foreign missions.
In 1748 he laid before Archbishop Herring, a proposal for occasional interchange of pulpits between the established and dissenting clergy.”
After that, to his highest honor, Doddridge’s daughter said of him, “The orthodoxy my father taught his children was charity.”
In an age and time, much like our own, when the love of men waxes cold, Philip K. Doddridge was a rare soul who understood this eternal truth, that God is a loving, gentle, persuading Father who desires His children to take care of each other, and for His family to just get along.
Next Story: The Man Born Blind 15:40
Speaking personally, I’m a sun junkie. I love being outdoors, and I revel in sunshine. My favorite time of the entire day is that moment when the sun comes up over the mountains, right over there, at about 65 degrees east. My least favorite and most difficult days in my life are overcast days.
But to a larger point, my dear friends, the world is darkening. Ever more grossly. Modern Mass Communications serves more to confuse the masses than connect them. This story, this last story is for those of you who love light, and who hunger and thirst after light and truth.
In the autumn of the year, the Jews held the Great Feast of Tabernacles. At the end of the first day of the Feast of Tabernacles, there in Jerusalem, the Jews would light the wicks of four huge candelabras. Each candelabra has stood 75 feet in height. Once lit, the light given off from those candelabra it is said, would like all of Jerusalem scarcely a dark corner anywhere. It was during the feast, and at the foot of those great structures that Jesus declared one day, I am the light of the world.
Well, as you know, from John 7 and 8, that declaration sparked a confrontation with the Pharisees that ended in them taking up stones to kill him, trying to assassinate him.
Well, Jesus passed by through their midst. As Jesus left the temple precincts, he passed by a man blind from birth. The disciples asked him why this man was born blind, who sinned, him or his parents.
And Jesus responded that this man was blind, not by any fault of his own, or of his parents, “but that the works of God may be made manifest in him.” (John 9:3)
In other words, think about it. This man was born blind, to be a miracle and a witness. Jesus stopped, he went to the man, and then curiously, he spat on the ground and made clay. He anointed the man’s eyes with the clay and told him to go to the pool of Siloam and wash. Now Siloam is similar to the Old Testament name Shiloh, which is another name for the Messiah.
Siloam’s. waters were considered by the Jews at that time, pure, holy, they were indeed living waters. The blind man obediently made his way down the mountain through the city of David to the pool of Siloam.
Presumably, that was not a short hike, a long way down that rich. But the blind man went, washed, and was made whole. He returned, presumably to the temple precincts, seeing well this caused a great stir among the Jews because everyone knew this was the blind beggar, and that he was blind from birth.
And now here he was whole. But how? See the dilemma? The Pharisee Of course, brought him in for questioning. They were presented with an awful dilemma. Jesus had clearly violated the rules regarding the Sabbath day on two points. So obviously, he had to be a sinner. Yet, the man born blind was now whole at Jesus’s hand. How could a sinner clear and obvious, do a miracle that their own law declared, could only have come from God?
Jesus could not be of God in their minds, for if he was, then they were not. The lowly beggar was summon before the mighty Sanhedrin, the wisest men of the Jews, with great courage, he defended his healer before them, but they railed on him saying,
“Thou art his disciple, we are Moses disciples, we know that God speaks unto Moses, but as for this fellow, we know not from whence he is.”
The absurdity of all that was too much for the restored beggar. He said, “In effect, well, this is marvelous. You are God’s holy men and the wisest of us all and here we have a miracle that the law clearly declares, can only come from God, and you don’t know where this man comes from who did it?”
With grit in his soul, the blind man declared, “If this man were not of God, he could do nothing.”
While the Pharisees couldn’t answer that, his reasoning, his logic was irrefutable. So instead, they simply insulted him and excommunicated him. They cast him out.
Jesus, knowing what had happened, found the man and further enlightened his soul, saying, “Just thou believe in the Son of God.”
The healed man asked, “Who is he, Lord, that I might believe in Him?
And then in one of those rare moments, Jesus said to him, “Thou hast both seen Him, and it is He that talketh with thee.”
Can you imagine the light and power of the witness that flooded that man’s soul with those words? I would give anything to hear that. And the blind man said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshiped Him.”
Jesus would go on to declare:
“For judgment, I come into the world, that they which see not might see, and that they which see, might be made blind.”
Jesus had brought light into a blind man’s eyes, and in so doing, declared a witness and enlightened every Jewish soul who knew the blind man. He had effectively declared an undeniable, irrevocable witness before all Israel, that He was the promised Messiah.
The sun had risen again over the darkened and benighted world of the Jews, if now they could not see the sun for what he was. It was because they chose to be blind.
My dear friends, today, the sun is ablaze again, with noonday intensity, great and marvelous things are happening before our very eyes and greater are yet to follow.
If we choose to believe, we will be flooded with light within and without, that will ultimately culminate for all of us in being transfigured by that very light that will consume the world, but lift us to meet him.
I close with this. Do we love the light and crave it?
Thank you for listening. Many of the stories you heard today have been published and are archived at glennrawsonstories.com. If you would like more information you can communicate with us there. We will be back again with another podcast next week.
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.