Roger Bothwell

My beautiful black lab stood in the snow staring off into the forest.  The moon was casting magnificent gray shadows across the reflective white floor.  She was trembling.  It was not fear.  Her hackles were not raised.  This was different.  The coyotes were calling from the treed mountain.  She looked at me and then looking into the night she moved a step forward.  Again she looked at me with a longing.  She wanted to go to them.  There was something primal moving her memory of being free to run and explore with her far removed cousins.  Taking yet another step forward she paused and when I said her name she turned back to me.  As we reentered the house she looked back to the trees.  She wanted to go.  It was only her love for me that restrained her.

She is not unlike us, who have primal memories of Eden.  We visit beautiful gardens laden with flowers and all manner of flora and there is an inner pull, an unsettled urge to want to live forever in such beauty.   Was it really so long ago that Eve and Adam tended God’s artistry? There are many layers of consciousness in our magnificent minds and deep inside there is a draw to go home.  How often must Adam have taken Abel, Seth and Cain to the gate of Eden and spoke to them of the beauty inside.

How grand that we have a way to satisfy this longing for eternal life in a paradise of God’s making.  Unlike my lab that resisted the call for her love for me we can respond with a yes to our call.  Our love for the One who formed us has made our entrance available. All we need is to say yes.

Written by Roger Bothwell on March 20, 2015

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We have almost three feet of snow in our yard with another foot coming tonight and tomorrow.  That does not take into account the ten foot high mountain of snow at the end of the driveway pushed there by a nice man with a pickup truck.  The path from the driveway to a front door of the house is only as wide as our snow blower.  I traced a way in and then backed the blower out.   The problem is the dog.  The only place available to her needs is that narrow path.  The sides of the path are higher than she is tall.  Her problem is if she cares for her needs facing away from the house she can’t get back.   Her mess blocks her out because she will not tread over it to return home.

As I watch her dilemma from the front window I think of Adam and Eve blocked from the Garden entrance by the mess they made.  Just as they could see the Garden, my dog can see the house but the way is blocked.  It’s a common life theme.  People lose out on something good because of something they have done.   Jobs are lost.  Marriages are ruined.  Relationships are spoiled.  The list is as long as history.

I can intervene.  I can go out with a shovel and help my dog come home.  As for mankind the only way home was for God to intervene.  Because of the magnitude of the crisis the solution was much worse than my getting a shovel.  Jesus came and rescued us by way of the cross, which is by far the worst mess ever made by mankind and the best ever rescue by God.

Written by Roger Bothwell on February 9, 2015

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My woods are deeply asleep beneath winter’s heavy white cover.  There are no rabbit tracks, no sign of chipmunks or disruptions in the scape indicating an owl’s early morning breakfast.  Only a handful of oak leaves are left clinging to their summer perches. The bones of the oaks, maples and birches are beautiful etched across a gray winter sky.  It’s a short menu, if any, for the coyotes, bears and foxes.

I wonder about the chipmunks living in dark tunnels and rooms stored with seed from my bird feeders.  During the summer months I watched them figure out how to harvest from the squirrel proof feeders. (There is no such thing.)  They would stuff their cheeks and disappear into the cracks at the edge of the patio and quickly return for another load.  I have a lot invested in those underground pantries.

In Matthew 25 and other places Jesus speaks of preparing for the future.  If we live long enough winter will come for us.  No one is immune.  We will be required to call upon the resources we have stashed away in easier times.  In Psalm 119:12 we read, “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee.”  If there is any correlation between the ease of winter and the amount of seed carried away my chipmunks will have an easy winter.   We can ease the intensity of winter when it comes by storing up Scripture.  “Though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil….Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”  These promises are real and sure. It is a matter of preparing for winter.

Written by Roger Bothwell on January 30, 2015

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It was late, dark and raining when I got home from school this night.  My old dog met me at the door with her usual leaning against me and rubbing her face against mine.  After an appropriate amount of loving she went out into the dark and rain.  She doesn’t like the rain so I expected a quick return.  However, she lingered.  After five minutes I grew uneasy and waited at the door.  She has difficulty climbing even the two stairs on the porch.  Suddenly I heard a muffled bark coming from a door on the back of the house.  Running through the house I found her.  We were both anxious for her to come inside.  It will be a bad day when there will be no more bark at the door.

As I opened the door I thought of a paraphrase adaption of Jesus comment about us as sinful beings and our heavenly father.  If we as sinful beings know how to rush to answer the door for a dog, how much more will our heavenly Father rush to open heaven’s door.  One of my favorite authors has written that there is one prayer God will always answer affirmatively.  It is, “Lord, save me.”   He stands at the door looking out into the dark waiting for us.

It is interesting to note the different ways Jesus uses the analogy of a door.   In John 10:9 He said, “I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved.”  In Revelation 3 we become the door. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.”   Let’s do it.

Written by Roger Bothwell on October 29, 2009

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Part of taking my dog for a walk each day is giving her a chance to socialize.  In just a mile she gets to visit with Peanut, Bailey, Cora, Sebastian, and Annie.  There is a lot of sniffing that goes on as greetings are exchanged. Then there are others that bark at us from the confines of their homes as we pass by.  There are at least four of them.  We don’t know their names.  Just last week a new player arrived on the social scene.  His name is Bruno.  Believe me when I tell you that Bruno is big.  Until now she has been the Big Dog.  No longer is this so.  Up until now she has played the big “I’ll take care you” role.  She keeps between me and the others making sure I am safe.  But since Bruno has arrived she makes sure she is behind me.  Suddenly I am the “You’ll take care of me.”   She doesn’t even put up her ruff.  She does her best to hide.

How thankful I am that God is a bit more faithful as my shield and protector.   David wrote, “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”  Psalm 18.  Paul wrote, “If God be for us who can be against us?”  Romans 8.  Unfortunately bad things do happen to God’s children.  Fortunately they are only temporary and God has the final say.  If there are any adjustments to be made He will more than make up what will be needed.  So don’t be afraid of the Brunos of this world.  The REALLY BIG DOG is on our side.

Written by Roger Bothwell on November 30, 2015

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Our New England world is sated with white.  One wonders if it could ever be whiter and still it falls from the sky.  The green boughs of our pines are laden.  The arms of our maples, oaks and beeches are dressed in bridal splendor.  It is a moment to savor the purity and imaginative touch of our Creator.  Amidst the falling blanket juncos, finches, cardinals and woodpeckers are banqueting outside our breakfast window.  It is so glorious and yet it comes with a sadness because it will end.

Life is that way.  Every good thing comes to an end.  Our babies are given to us and in a blink of an eye they are married and gone to have their own babies and to blink.  The vigor of our youth melts into summer and fall.   Life’s winter brings its own whiteness if we are fortunate to keep any.

The wonder of Jesus is the whiteness that will never melt.  I love the way the New International Version renders Isaiah 1:18, “Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”  The matter is settled!  There is no negotiating.  God says it and it’s finished, sealed in love.  It is a whiteness without sorrow because it will never end. Aeons from now we will be pressed and wrinkle free.

Salvation is a glorious thing that will never end.  God’s measureless love is as huge as His universe. Therefore we must never fear He will change His mind.  “God is changeless in his love.”  Psalm 59:10.   Our world is sated with mercy and white.

Written by Roger Bothwell on February 10, 2017

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We have this nice kid in our neighborhood.  He is about 10 years old and has a two year old dog named Buddy.  Buddy is beautiful and weighs about the same as his master, who very faithfully takes Buddy for a walk each afternoon after school.  Maybe I should say Buddy takes his master for a walk.  Buddy is a handful and goes pretty much where he wants to go pulling his master after him.

Buddy reminds me of strong habits and propensities in our lives.  We struggle to keep them in check but so often they pull us where they want to go.  But this I know.  There is no sin or desire so strong that we cannot overcome or control.  Unlike Buddy’s master who is doing it on his own we do not have to face temptation on our own.  Jesus’ disciple John wrote, “You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.”  That promise is in his small letter of    I John in chapter 4.  If you will put the word “overcome” in a concordance you will discover there are five promises about overcoming in I John.  John was a son of thunder and he overcame.  He was an overcomer and wants each of us to share the victory available in Jesus.

Here’s one of two promises in chapter 5. “Everyone born of God overcomes the world.”  The world is a pretty big place filled with many temptations and addictions.  But none of what the world has is bigger or stronger than the power available to us. We have overwhelming power just a prayer away. It’s even stronger than Buddy.

 

Written by Roger Bothwell on December 16, 2015

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There was a cardinal at our bird feeder this morning with snow on its back.  The snow must have been frozen on because it did not fall off as the cardinal flew back and forth from a branch to the feeder.  It was an unnecessary burden that was hampering its flight.  Most of the people I know are like this cardinal.  We carry around unnecessary burdens that hamper our being all we can be.  They can be the product of childhood but more likely they are the product of life in general.  We allow failures to hamper our concept of what we can really accomplish.  Failure is not pleasant and we do all we can to avoid it.   The things we associate with our failures become hot stoves.  We just don’t try again.  Some are things we really would like to do but fear another attempt will once again result in failure.  We live ordinary lives when we could have been extraordinary.  Instead of learning from our failures we turn them into blockades that keep us from going any further merely so we do not have to taste failure again.  We carry burdens that hamper the fulfillment of our dreams.

Sometimes the burden we carry is guilt which is most debilitating.  It haunts us with “I wish I had not done it.”   We cannot go back and undo.  However we can lift the burden.  We begin by seeking God’s forgiveness which is always available.  “If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us.”  I John1:9   Secondly, we forgive ourselves.  Often that is the tough one.  Let it go.  If necessary say, “I forgive myself.”  The result will be wonderful.  When the burden is gone we fly like a cardinal without snow on its back.

Written by Roger Bothwell on January 3, 2014

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It’s decision time.  Do I have use for this Christmas present?  Do I try to return it to the store from which it was purchased?  How do I do that if I don’t have the receipt?  Do I save it until next Christmas and regift it?  If so, I better label who gave it to me lest I give it back to the person who gave it to me.  Or worst of all just throw it away!

I have known people who have regifted salvation.  (I know.  That is crazy, but who says everyone is sane?)  They accepted Jesus’ offer and did one of two things.  They decided they didn’t want it so they gave it back to Jesus.  Or they first shared it with another and then threw it away.  Or they consciously or subconsciously decided once saved they had to start contributing toward the cost by living a life according to law.  It is a normal reaction.  When we receive something wonderful we want to do something back.  And we can.  We can with God’s help live a Christ-like life.  The important issue is motive.  If our motive is to pay back we nullify the gift.  If my motive is love for God and growing love for people that He plants within us then our good works do not nullify grace.

Paul refers to this in Galatians 2.  He wrote, “I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly.”  The last thing we would ever want to do is to cause Jesus to have died needlessly.  So as we give good gifts to others we always remember we are NOT contributing to the cost of our salvation.  We are not regifting.  We are reproducing.

Written by Roger Bothwell on December 28, 2015

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I was only five-years-old and psychologically traumatized.  We didn’t have a fireplace so Santa had knocked on the door and dragged his bag of goodies into our small house.  I was so excited I raced out onto the street and looked up onto the roof.  “The reindeer must be on the backside,” I told myself as I rushed back inside. It was then that it happened.  All I did was pull open his sack and reach inside. The big guy, the jolly (?) old man with the red suit slapped my hand.  Stepping back agape I exclaimed, “You wouldn’t do that if my daddy was here.”

I am very sure that was the last time my father ever struck me.  My mother could never say, “Just wait until your father comes home.”   If I needed it she did it (a rubber spatula) because she knew he never would do anything other than sit with me on the backstairs and talk.

Frequently I hear people who have experienced a traumatizing loss say something about God punishing them.  I wonder about their God.  The writer of Hebrews wrote, “For the LORD disciplines those he loves, and he punishes each one he accepts as his child.”  There is a difference between discipline and abuse.  Our heavenly Father will never abuse us.  The abuse we receive in life comes from the enemy of our souls who is delighted when we blame our Father.  However, our heavenly Father does on occasion find it necessary for our character development to punish us.  But it will always be the mildest, gentlest, most loving discipline possible with never a single degree of severity more than we need.   After all, our Father is there.

Written by Roger Bothwell on December 31, 2014

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