Category Archives: Christian Living

Posts that deal with Christian living and its issues.

Shiny Cars

My first car was a white 1965 Rambler Classic. If you have never seen one, imagine a refrigerator turned on its side with wheels attached to it. I drove it for my last couple of years of high school and eventually sold it. Then I bought a 72 Buick Riviera, then a 74 Ford Pinto, which was the car I courted Lanette in, and she still married me!

I have owned all kinds of cars over the years: a 66 Lincoln Continental, a 65 Ford Econoline pickup, a series of Mercury Cougars, a 49 Dodge Coronet, a Scion xB (the toaster), and my 68 Mustang. They all have one thing in common, I don’t keep them for very long. As I write this, the Mustang is on Craigslist for sale or trade. I have had it for a couple of years, and it has been fun, but it is time for a new toy. Continue reading Shiny Cars

From The Archives: The Anti-Olympics

I love watching the Olympics. Winter Olympics or Summer Olympics, I love them all. I am awestruck by the dedication of the athletes. I feel their pain when they are injured. I am moved by their tears of joy and sorrow. I am shocked by the fingernails of Gail Devers! Have you seen her fingernails? They defy all of the laws of nature!

While I enjoy the Olympics, they are kind of hard for most of us to relate to. Let’s be honest, not many of us are going to be running a marathon any time soon. I had to run out to the mound for a playoff game three weeks ago and I have parts of me that are still jiggling! I have been working on some events for the rest of us; I’ll call them the Anti-Olympics. Continue reading From The Archives: The Anti-Olympics


Since last May I have been studying for my Masters in Business Administration at Western Governors University. I was hoping to be done by this May and be finished in one year. I could have done it, but spent about three months where motivation was hard to find. It put me behind in time and I will end up taking about a year and a half instead of a year. Disappointing. Continue reading Disappointment

Being Born?

BURP! Ouch, Mom must have had nachos again. She knows they give us gas, why does she eat them?…

I wish there were toys in here to play with…

I’ve got to stretch. There, that’s better. Sorry, Mom, I hope that didn’t hurt. I’m growing pretty quickly now. I think I’ll be able to suck my thumb any day.

I would introduce myself to you, but I don’t have a name yet. I haven’t been born. I’m still just a growing lump in my mom’s tummy. I’ve been growing inside her, and I can’t wait for my grand entrance.

I don’t know what the world holds for me. I’m looking forward to life, though. It’s going to be great. Mom will hold me close to her and sing lullabies to me. I can already recognize her voice and the sound of it soothes me. I’ve never seen her face, but it must be beautiful. I love her so much…

I can’t wait to be born. Maybe I’ll grow up and find the cure for AIDS, or maybe I’ll become president. Oh, well, whatever life has, I’m sure…OW! What was that? All of a sudden the walls kind of pushed on me.

Hey, that hurts! What’s going on? Is it time for me to be born yet? Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to… OW!

The pain is getting pretty intense each time it gets tight in here. I feel the pushing, and I can hear my mom’s voice, but it doesn’t sound the same. No, something is definitely wrong here. I don’t know what it is, but…

I can hear my mom’s voice again. She’s not alone, I can hear other voices now.

“Doctor, the fetal tissue is ready,” a female voice says. She doesn’t sound like my mom, she is more businesslike and not at all soothing.

“Prepare for the procedure,” says a man. He sounds bored. What procedure is he talking about? Am I a procedure?

I can feel something cold and hard on the base of my neck. Ouch, that’s sharp. Hey, what are you doing? Get that thing away from me. It hurts, stop it, please!

My final thoughts before I leave this earth are of my mother. “Mom, why did you let them do this to me?” The world goes black, and I am gone from this world forever.

Friends, I know this may seem overly dramatic to many of you. I hope so. And you can say that I have taken liberties with a baby’s awareness. The one thing you can’t argue with is that every abortion kills a baby. Call it a fetus, a protein blob or whatever helps you sleep at night, but it’s a baby and you know it.

Somebody has to speak up for the unborn children of the world. The Guttmacher Institute (a pro-abortion organization) reports that 1 out of every 3 women in the United States will have an abortion before they are 45. 58% of women having abortions are in their 20’s. In 2008, 1.21 million children were aborted in the United States alone. If you total up the American dead from all the wars from the Revolutionary War through Desert Storm only 1.2 million have died.

There is a great cry over guns in America. Every year guns are used to kill 17,000 people. Another 32,000 commit suicide. AIDS claims 42,000, cancer 537,000, and heart disease 734,000.We are rightly concerned about these deaths. But each year abortion claims the lives of 1.2 million children. Most of these children are dying simply because they are not wanted.

So how do we combat this American tragedy? Do we protest, throw blood on women seeking abortions, blow up clinics, shoot the doctors? No, no, a thousand times no! We must reach out to these hurting and confused people with the love of Christ, and we must be willing to help, to put our money where our mouths are. And men need to be men. If you’re man enough to father a child, you should be man enough to raise a child. How many of these abortions could be stopped simply if men stood up and did what was right? I’m sick of kids raised without dads because the man who fathered them couldn’t be bothered. I know what I want to call these guys, but I don’t use that kind of language…

Let’s remember that life is the greatest gift of all.

Shedding a tear for the dead and saying a prayer for those who can be saved… Jerry


God’s Masterpiece

When I was a kid, I was horrible at basketball. In fact, I would have to improve just to be considered lousy. When it came time to choose teams, the captain who was about to get stuck with me would first look up and down the playground, hoping against hope that another potential teammate was approaching—someone’s brother, someone’s sister, even someone’s grandmother. When he was convinced that no one else was coming, he would point at me and say, “OK, I’ll take Godsey…” the way they said “take” clearly implied “stuck with.” Somehow, I didn’t feel chosen. In fact, I had the feeling that if it hadn’t been my ball we were using, I wouldn’t have even gotten to play. Continue reading God’s Masterpiece

Mardi Gras!

Have you ever been to New Orleans? I got there on Fat Tuesday. At first I thought it was a day for men like me, then I found out it was just the last day of Mardi Gras.

It was definitely a sight to see, the smell of marijuana wafted through the air, drunks outnumbered sober people ten to one. Women walked by me with paint on their bodies instead of clothing. I got whacked in the head by a handful of beads thrown from a balcony. People pressed on me from all sides, pushing and shoving so they could see women on the balconies showing body parts of various shapes and sizes. The place was nuts! Continue reading Mardi Gras!

Poor David!

Poor David.

Everybody tried to put limits on him. It seems like every time he turned around, somebody was selling him short.

While watching his father’s sheep one day, a lion came out of the woods. Surely this little runt of a boy couldn’t stand up to a lion. Of course he could, and don’t call me Shirley. Sorry, old joke. Continue reading Poor David!

Take Off your Earrings!

My wife and I heard a shrill voice screaming, “Why you not whoopin’ on me now? We’re outside…” Lanette and I turned our heads and saw two different groups of teenage girls walking out of the mall. The girl who had shouted was in one group, the girl who evidently had done some whoopin’ earlier was in the other group.

The two girls circled around each other, trading epithets and venom. Their friends alternated between riling them into a frenzy and trying to get them to walk away. For a while it seemed as if cooler heads would prevail. Then one of the girls reached up and removed her hoop earrings. I looked at my wife and said, “It’s on.” Continue reading Take Off your Earrings!

A Sweet Aroma

This morning as I hugged and kissed my wife goodbye, my hands touched her face in a tender moment. It was a sweet way to start the day, and I loved it.

About three hours later I was sitting at my desk, working on some type of paperwork and I rested my face against my hand. Suddenly I got a faint whisper of my wife’s perfume. I was whisked back to this morning, and that sweet embrace. Over the next couple of hours I moved my hand to my face to breathe in the essence of the love of my life. It was just a whiff of perfume, but it reminded me of her, and all that she means to me. Continue reading A Sweet Aroma