Devotionals

Have you ever been feeling full of energy and enthusiasm and ran into a person or situation that wrung out the last drop of your energy? When you walked away, you felt like you had been rode hard and put up wet. Always make a note when that happens and try to avoid similar drains in the future.

One day I realized Einstein was right – that everything is energy. We cannot manage anything unless we know what it is. If we see people as protoplasm, it affects the way we deal with them. Take Einstein’s word that all things are energy and you can manage the energy around you more skillfully.

Even a creek rock is energy. It has swirling atoms and molecules. It is alive. Everything is alive. Everything and everybody you meet during the day either replenished your energy or sucks it out of you.

Once when a woman reached out and touched Jesus in a crowd, he stopped and asked, “Who touched me?” His disciples saw He was being pushed and shoved and contacted by many people and they said, “Master, everyone is touching you.” But he said, “No, I felt power (energy) go out from me.” He could feel her need, her faith. He could read energy like a book. He gave her the healing energy she needed.

One reason he had the energy to heal her was he did not allow his energy to be drained away by meaningless activity and people who were energy slurpers. He was happy to honor someone’s faith and need, like the woman who touched him in the crowd, but he did not waste energy on people who drained energy in negative ways.

His ability to read energy (an ability we can learn once we see all as energy) enabled Him to direct his own energy skillfully. One thing that kept his energy at high levels was that he was clear about his mission in life and constantly opened up to his Source in times of quiet solitude.

He did not waste his energy on meaningless debates with people who did not want to learn but to argue. Even at his trial when his life hung in the balance, he refused to debate with Pilate. He knew the politics of the situation. The Sanhedrin wanted Jesus killed and they were important to Pilate in maintaining the peace. He did not waste his energy on Pilate and the noisy rabble.

He never wasted energy begging others to follow him. He trained his followers to shake the dust from their feet and move on when people resisted the ideas he had taught them. He called it “casting pearls before swine,” a very graphic image about knowing with whom to share the treasure of your energy. He wasn’t putting people down by likening them to swine except that swine would not know the difference between a kernel of corn and a pearl.

Some people are like that. They are robotically into accepting only that with which they are familiar. They have their little kernels of life they swallow and if you put a pearl among the kernels they will either leave it in the trough after they eat their kernels or just thoughtlessly chew it up. Pearls of spiritual truth are not meant to be chewed up without thought. They are meant to be polished, relished and cherished.

He never got too traumatized and weary to direct his energy to an honest, truly needy human soul. One of the men crucified beside him sensed the powerful energy he possessed and simply asked, “Master, remember me.” Jesus said, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

He was such a master of directing energy that he could tote a bloody old thief to heaven with his last dying breath. Study him and you will learn how to manage your energy and the energy all around you.

By Dalton Roberts
www.daltonroberts.com
DownhomeP@aol.com

I have been all over the map when it comes to attitudes about Christmas. Some years I was the child struck with wonder. Some years I was Scrooge. Some years I commercialized Christmas by shopping and gift giving. There were years I put up a tree and strung out some lights. There were other years I almost hid because I did not feel like dealing with it in any way.

Our attitude toward Christmas reflects how we are experiencing life at that time in our life. If times are hard, we may not get into gift giving. If our faith has been shaken by some severely stressful event, we may not have the spiritual strength to celebrate the mystical rituals or to cling to the comforts afforded by some of the Christmas stories. One time when I had a particularly painful experience in a church, I confess that it dampened my own personal experience of Christmas. I am pleased to say that my admiration and appreciation of Jesus’ words and work is no longer dependent on what a church does.

I think gift-giving takes a bad rap. It is true that some people spend too much and when the bills come due in January, they are in trouble. But I am certain that he or she who overspend in December does the same thing in other months. I see value in anyone moving out of ego long enough to think of others and desire to share their bounty with them. Those who carefully study their Christmas list and buy something that perfectly fits each person are practicing a high form of love called thoughtfulness.

One of the beauties of Christmas is that it is really a grand collection of stories. Each ritual or traditional practice has a powerful story behind it. Every part of our stories does not need to be a scientific certainty for us to find morsels of meaning in it. That was a realization I picked up from Joseph Campbell’s PBS series on the myths of humankind. Anyone can fully appreciate the story of the race of the turtle and hare without thinking God personally delivered it to us. We can love the stories of the prodigal son and the Good Samaritan even if they are not literally true.

If it is possible for us to open up to all the stories of Christmas, we will find ourselves enjoying more streams of meaning and inspiration. If you love diversity, thank the Germans, Italians, Poles, Swedes, Norwegians and others who came to us bearing the gifts of their own stories, including Christmas trees, lights, mistletoe and even old Santa himself.

I’ve gone full circle in my own attitudes and Christmas practices. I have grown to appreciate the teachings and what we know of the person of Jesus until those two aspects of Christmas mean the most to me. I have no argument with others who enjoy celebrating one of more of the other Christmas stories but I expressed my thoughts in a song I recently wrote:

I spell Christmas with a capital “C”
It’s not Christmas without Christ to me
I still feel magic in the Nativity
So I spell Christmas with a capital “C”
I love the Wise Men riding from afar
Arriving Christmas morn
And shepherds hearing angels sing
A special child is born
Jesus is the reason for the season to me
So I spell Christmas with a capital “C”
Yes, I spell Christmas with a capital “C”
Fir Jesus is the greatest gift to you and me
He’s the gift that keeps on giving eternally
That’s why I spell Christmas with a capital “C”
I love Santa Clause and mistletoe
And laughter Christmas morn
But the message that rings out to me
Is “the Prince of Peace is born”
Jesus is what makes it merry Christmas to me
So I spell Christmas with a capital “C”

By Dalton Roberts
www.daltonroberts.com
DownhomeP@aol.com

I had been planning to go fishing and had been waiting on a good day, when a beautiful morning in October arrived. My gear was packed and ready to go. I could already see myself out on the Hiawassee River in my usual fishing spot next to a local power house.

I arrived very early to ensure I could get my favorite fishing hole. The river was down, as it had been a very dry year. I grabbed my gear and headed down to the water. Daylight was breaking and due to the low water, I was able to walk a good distance out into the river on the rocks. Taking my rod and reel I made my first cast. The weather was perfect–the air was still and the peace of the morning surrounded me.

As I took in the beauty around me, I was startled by a large splash in the water, just a few feet away. To be truthful, it scared me. Water soaked my clothes and my mind raced as to figure out what it was that had caused the disruption. What had fallen into the water so close to me? Then, suddenly out of the water came a large eagle with its head crowned in white. The eagle was gripping its trophy of the day in its talons. I stood and watched this beautiful creature fly out of sight and I was left to ponder the magic of the moment as I got over my fear. I thought about how great God truly is and marveled at the beauty of His creation.

I have seen many things in my 72 years. I saw Disney World as it was being built; I was on the Cape the day the first man was launched to the moon. I was there again when we lost the Challenger. But from all my experiences, none can compare to the beauty of that early October morning when I say down and thane God for what He had allowed me to see. We sometimes forget how fortunate we are and how truly blessed by our loving Savior whom we serve.

Ron Trotter
Cleveland, TN

I love Emily Dickinson’s poem about being a nobody:

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us, don’t tell.
They’d banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog.
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

I often return to the place where I was born. Someone asked me if I liked the place and I said, ”Not much.” So they said, “Well, why do you go down there so often?” I said, “Partly because I have friends and family there but mainly because I am a nobody there. I have times when I love being a nobody.”

My father found a job in Chattanooga when I was being born and we moved here when I was three weeks old. I never had a chance to become “somebody” where I was born.

I am not hot stuff now but it’s amazing how many people know me from a quarter century in politics, a half century playing dances and my newspaper column.

I once said when I was county executive, “There are 300,000 people in Chattanooga. Ninety percent seem to like me but that means 10 percent, or 30,000 people, can’t stand me.”

The problem with being a somebody is that those you cannot please for any reason at all are constantly trying to bring you down.

Marilyn Monroe touched on this when she said:

It stirs up envy, fame does. People feel fame gives them some kind of privilege to walk up to you and say anything to you and it won’t hurt your feelings – like it’s happening to your clothing.

A black friend, Moses Freeman, paid me a compliment I cherish. He said:

When Dalton was elected, he remained the same kind of person as before he was elected. When he left office, he remained the same. And he’s one of the few politicians I know who didn’t leave office wealthier.

Being a man who likes to tell the truth even about himself, I do not say these things to brag. I appreciate anyone saying good things about me, as we all do, but it doesn’t bother me much for them to say bad things.

Once I was trying to close out an old rundown children’s home and make it into an industrial park. One night after a gig I walked in a breakfast place with a Vietnam vet who loved me. A man stranding near the door said, “There’s that rotten crooked !*&# who’s trying to throw them children out in the street!” Quick as a wink, my buddy threw him down across the counter and jerked his arm up behind him.” I said, “Turn him loose, Chuck. I work for him. He’s got a right to tell me what he thinks.”

One thing I love about a democracy is that everyone is of equal value. We are losing that in this country and it hurts me as much as the coldness, criminality and power-madness in high places.

Jesus did not seek to be known for His works. He most often called Himself “the son of man.”

He wanted to be known for the Power that worked within Him. He said, “I do not do these works. It is the Power Within.” He wanted people to see and honor and experience the Presence of the One Power.

It’s all right for a nobody to desire to be a somebody as long as the motivation is to do good. It’s OK to be a somebody as long as the thought of being a nobody doesn’t bother you.

Jesus knew when we experienced the Presence Within, titles like “somebody” and “nobody” would no longer matter to us. It fulfills us at such a deep level of our soul that neither recognition nor anonymity really matters.

To be a somebody to the Presence enables us to actually enjoy being a nobody.

By Dalton Roberts
www.daltonroberts.com
DownhomeP@aol.com

I had an idea for a song to write as a tribute to my father. It had the lines, “An old man with Christ in his eyes, can make me really high.” As I contemplated the beauty in those words, I was suddenly overcome with emotion as all kinds of beautiful thoughts started streaming into my mind as fast as I could write them down.

It seemed that the Lord actually became too beautiful for words and yet I was writing like crazy because words were all I had to express what was happening. I realized at that moment that God has become Beauty to me.

Mary Baker Eddy had seven synonyms for God and I have found it helpful at times to use her synonyms interchangeably with all of our words for God. Now I had my own word: BEAUTY!

Here’s the full lyric to the song:

A rose can make me sigh
With a drop of dew in the corner of its eye
Sometimes a sunset can make me laugh and cry
Jesus paints a beautiful life
A mother’s first look at her child
Is like Jesus smiling through her eyes
The first time a baby laughs it’s the voice of Jesus Christ
Jesus paints a beautiful life
The magic touch of the master’s brush
Makes all things become new
He can make a masterpiece
Out of common clay like me and you
An old man with Christ in his eyes
Can make me really high
He can almost take you to heaven when he dies
Jesus paints a beautiful life

When I sing this song, a feeling of deep awe settles over me. I know it’s because seeing the beauty of our Creator and Friend cannot help having that kind of impact on us.

I have often reflected on the mental images I had of God before the theologians got a hold on me. I wrote an article for a national newsletter one time on children and spirituality and recounted some of those memories. I literally hypnotized myself to draw them out, going back to the places where they came to me. It was too lovely for words.

The beauty of the Lord is a heart thing. Your heart has eyes, too. If your heart cannot look at what someone says about God and feel a sense of comfort, awe, joy and peace, it is probably something you should forget.

Taylor Pie and I were taking a few days to write songs and at breakfast one morning she was telling about someone trying to force beliefs on her that she just could not accept. I said, “Just tell her you think a lot more of God than that.” She said, “Hey! That would make a good song.” We ended up writing a song by that title. The chorus goes:

Glory, glory, it comes to me
In every tender voice I hear
Every smiling face I see
Tomorrow may bring trouble
But I never feel left flat
I think a lot more of God than that

My mother managed to convey a lot of the beauty of the Lord to me despite the theology in the church of my youth. I am so grateful to her.

I remember one time when I was a pre-school child and a near-tornado hit our house. I began to cry and mother held me and talked to the Lord like he was right there with us. I think He was. I have never heard more peaceful and beautiful words although I cannot remember them. I know why I cannot remember them: I was completely lost in the feelings, not the words.

There’s nothing wrong with being completely lost in the beauty of God. It is one of the most deeply healing feelings we can ever have in this life. For me, it is the most desirable spiritual experience.

By Dalton Roberts
www.daltonroberts.com
DownhomeP@aol.com

If you asked 100 people to give you their definition of the word “Christian,” I am sure there would be some diversity among them. Some would say it’s a person who has accepted Christ as their personal savior. Some would add, “and been baptized.”

Others would emphasize good works quoting James, “Faith without works is dead.” Some would say, “A person who agrees with the Apostle’s Creed  and receives the sacraments of the church.”

If there is only one way to become a Christian and to live as a Christian, someone needs to explain to us how we have come to have hundreds of denominations that have the same bible. Is it possible they are doing what Jesus warned against – following the letter and not the spirit of the words? Isn’t there a verse in there about “rightly dividing the word of truth?”

To “divide” something means to split it open, take it apart and study it. To decide anything as important as who is a Christian should involve a lot of dividing and studying.

My definition of a Christian would be consummately simple: a person who reminds me of Jesus Christ. Something about that person needs to bring pieces of the Sermon in the Mount to my mind as I observe their attitudes,  their spirit and the way they live their life.

I discovered long ago that a person can be straight as an arrow with their traditional doctrines and be intolerant and bitter as a quinine pill in their attitudes. They can quote the bible like a well-trained parrot and not have enough love in their heart to fill a thimble.

Just today I heard of a man who had been well baptized in lemon juice and became a fanatic, sending tracts to friends he thought were “lost.” One longtime friend had been an agnostic during the course of their friendship and when this man’s wife told him her husband had died he said, “Well, I can forget about ever seeing him in heaven.” Minimally such a statement at such a time is the epitome of insensitivity. It would never remind anyone of Christ.

I was a pall bearer at the funeral of a musician who certainly had a drinking problem. The preacher never so much as mentioned my musician friend’s name in his sermon, At one point in his remarks he pointed to the casket and said, “Now this ‘un over here …” and made it clear he had gone to hell.

As I was standing outside waiting for the casket to be rolled out, the wife of the deceased came to me sobbing. I embraced her but said, “I am sorry I cannot comfort you right now. I am too angry.” She said, “It’s that preacher, isn’t it?” and I said, “Yes.”

She said the boy’s mother wanted me to make some graveside remarks. She said, “His mother says she cannot stand to put him in the ground without someone saying something kind about him.”

I told the little group at the graveside I had been raised in the church and the worst sin I ever have witnessed was the judging going on in the church despite Jesus’ specific command, “Judge not that ye be not judged for with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged.” I said, “I played music with this man for years and I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone on this earth. So those who judge him may find themselves in a worse position than him because he was one of the most kind and unjudgmental men I have ever known.”

I hope to not err in my thinking about what makes a Christian but if I must err, let me err in the direction of people who are full of love and sensitivity to the hearts of others. The longer we love and follow Jesus, the more we will remind people of Him.

By Dalton Roberts
www.daltonroberts.com
DownhomeP@aol.com