Tag: jesus

GRIM REAPER

“Things came to a head early one morning outside a seedy bar called the Busy Body Lounge in Evansville, Indiana when he shot and killed a member of the “Grim Reapers” Motorcycle Club during an argument.”

Many older people at some point in their lives question if they made the correct decisions in life, especially whether or not they’re totally secure where eternity is concerned.

Looking back at my 71 years, had I not decided to follow Jesus Christ, there’s no telling where I would’ve ended up in this life. It’s highly doubtful I’d still be alive. Where eternity is concerned, Heaven is the only direction for this cat.

Growing up a military brat and having to pull up stakes and move every 3 years, I often wondered how those friends I’d made along the way fared. Several years back I decided to try and find out, using information that some of my old pals supplied me with, along with news that Mom’s friends provided her.

Social media didn’t exist during the late 1980s, thus the only way to uncover what I needed to know was via letter or telephone. When Facebook came along it expedited matters. I was successful in reconnecting with a good many classmates — the news gleaned from them was mostly uplifting. There were two exceptions.

In 1972, Todd Mold unfortunately passed away not long after graduating from high school. A car he was a passenger in left the road and struck a tree. Todd died a few days later in a Massachusetts hospital. Todd and I were good friends at Reese Elementary in Texas.

Larelia Sadler Ragsdale, a classmate from Texas, sadly was killed in 1976 after being in a car accident with her husband, Roger. A drunk driver was at fault for driving in the wrong direction and hitting their vehicle.

The couple were high school sweethearts and had only been married a few years. During a school play at Reese Elementary School in Wolfforth, Texas, Larelia played Mary in a school play while I was Joseph. We were good pals back then.

Oftentimes, the survivor of a horrible accident is considered the fortunate one. That wasn’t the case in the accident involving Larelia and Roger. I didn’t know the whole story until just a short time ago, as something kept nagging at me to press further on research these past 5 years to see what ultimately happened to Roger Ragsdale.

After discovering what I did, the information was kept under wraps, with me wondering what good would it do to openly disclose such. Some might question why I’m doing so now, yet there’s an important lesson to be learned here, especially from someone perhaps going through the same turmoil as Roger did. There’s help out there if one merely seeks it.

We often come across people who have ruined their lives through alcohol, drugs, or erratic psychological behavior. I know several. Thankfully, a few of them got on the right track and turned off their destructive paths to disaster.

Our church, Calvary Baptist, has a program called Celebrate Recovery. Hundreds if not thousands of people have benefitted from their weekly prayer and counseling sessions.

Roger Ragsdale not only lost a precious wife on that September day in 1976, but he also lost the direction of his own life as public information dictates. Badly injured, with his face almost totally obliterated, the man spent considerable time recovering, yet the hurt went much deeper than physically.

Records show that he was arrested numerous times afterward for driving under the influence, with him crashing his motorcycle into a fence, and injuring a female passenger in the process. Roger Ragsdale was cited for this incident and eventually sued by the other party.

Illegal drugs eventually came into play, with Ragsdale arrested for not only using them but selling them to undercover investigators. Things came to a head early one morning outside a seedy bar called the Busy Body Lounge in Evansville, Indiana when he shot and killed a member of the “Grim Reapers” Motorcycle Club during an argument.

Roger went to prison because of this, most likely the same prison that Jack Aper should’ve spent time in. Aper is the man responsible for driving while intoxicated and recklessly crashing into Ragsdale’s car in 1977.

Newspaper records show that the prosecution wanted Aper behind bars, but articles also have him playing golf and bowling by 1978. If he was incarcerated it was very minimal or not at all. Jack Aper lived to be 84, after having retired in Florida.

I never met Roger Ragsdale, but I’ve come across several people just like him, men and women who lost control of their lives because of some underlying physical calamity, addiction, or mental problem. Unless they ask Jesus Christ to intercede, their caustic actions can destroy not only themselves but also friends, family, and loved ones in the process.

Some of these folks I knew were habitual users of alcohol and drugs, yet after they ditched their pride and sincerely asked for God’s help — a few of their lives changed for the better. Unfortunately, not all took that same route.

I’m not singling out Roger Ragsdale for his faults. We’ve all come short of God’s glory — me included. If he hadn’t already done so, before taking his last breath and meeting the Grim Reaper on May 8, 2004, at only 51 years of age, hopefully, Roger Ragsdale reached out to God.

Somewhere along the way after that terrible accident, a friend or concerned acquaintance needed to take this wounded man by the hand and lead him to scripture, showing that help was available to release him from his earthly torture. The ending to this story will only be known when I reach Heaven.

“Do not be afraid, for I am with you; do not be discouraged because I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10.

LIFE CHANGER

“Mikey doesn’t play that game anymore.”

I’ve read numerous times on Facebook and other social media venues where a person makes an unpopular comment, and someone slithers out of the darkness to try and ridicule that individual’s viewpoint.

These disrupters generally attempt to impress the gathering crowd of readers by first making a highly flammable or snarky comment. Their intent is to start an argument, and it often works, yet not with me. Mikey doesn’t play that game anymore.

I’ve now encountered this type so often, that I can predict whether something I say will elicit a negative response. It’s easy to forecast such, especially when I’m in a group that mostly doesn’t think the same as me.

Such was the case the other day with a man named, Bill. He wanted to change the direction of the whole discussion, at least with me he did. More on that later.

A friend of mine who shall remain anonymous, sincerely wanted to know why Republicans were so supportive of President Trump and Elon Musk, asking this of her over 1000 Facebook friends. I believe she truly wanted to get a better perspective on things for her own understanding.

This intelligent and very articulate lady does not like Donald Trump, and she’s not the only one I know who thinks this way. Hey, everyone is free in this country to their own opinions!

I commented in so many words that God, family, and country were my priorities — in that order — and that this new extremist Democrat Party was attacking a certain religion, ridiculing the nuclear family, and trying to take down our country through either not enforcing laws, or creating perverse ones against my religious and moral fiber.

I went on to say that our choice of candidates in the last election only left me with one solid choice, especially since Kamala Harris refused to answer questions, and when she tried, nothing came out of her mouth but word salad.

If someone wants to argue that part with me they better clean out their ears first. Mrs. Harris, mumble-jumbled more sentences than Fred Sanford did during his whole career at Sanford and Son.

Those people commenting on Facebook were most cordial, with a good many not agreeing with me as expected, and some folks that I didn’t know coming to my defense by saying, “We should be respectful of everyone’s viewpoints although they might differ from our own.”

The interaction between those having different opinions was quite educational and without hostility, which doesn’t always happen. I believe the debate originator came away feeling the same.

Getting back to that intended disruptor I mentioned earlier, I’ll only say that his name is Bill, and after reviewing his background we have some things in common. Both of us attended East High — also having a couple of the same friends —but things drastically ended there.

Almost every one of Bill’s posts on his site has something negative to do with DT — that’s my nickname for Donald Trump. I’m no psychologist here, but this man definitely has Trump Derangement Disorder, or TDD as it’s often called.

The man is infatuated with this hate because it spews forth like molten lava from Kilauea Volcano. Getting back to something I said earlier, “Everyone is free in this country to their own opinions and Bill is welcome to his!

Bill’s snarky comment to me regarded religion, with it being, “I’m sorry, Michael, but which God? There are so very many…”

One thing I’ve never debated with others is my personal religious beliefs. I know without doubt where I’m going after I leave this world, with others free to join me if they so desire. Bill is especially welcome because the fellow is deeply lost if he believes there are multiple creators of this universe. I’ll be praying for him in this area.

According to the Holy Bible, there is but one God. Hopefully, Bill does a small amount of reading here and he’ll see the light. Bill simply needs to repent of his sins and ask Jesus Christ to take him to Heaven when he dies. A person doesn’t have to be an intellectual guru to see this —as John 3:16 lays things out so simple that even a caveman would understand.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son. Whoever shall believe on him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”

I gave my life to Jesus Christ soon after graduating in 1972, in the front seat of a 1965 Chevy, and I’ve never looked back. I’m not a minister or an ordained priest, but I can sincerely say that it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

I can only hope that others do the same before it’s too late because I’d love to see them on the other side with me!

POWER OF PRAYER

“With us standing under black umbrellas, drizzly rain fell as the pastor said a few words before Grandpa’s casket was lowered into the ground.”

Representative picture of January 25, 1966.

The “power of prayer” unlike the horsepower of a car or motorcycle engine cannot be measured. If there were a device to try and capture the power of prayer like an engine dynamometer—the scale or graph with numbers could never capture such. I say this based on what I’ve observed in my own life and not what someone has told me.

I’ve been praying to God since childhood, although the simple prayer repeated nightly back then meant little to me. Mom lovingly instructed my brother and me to always pray before we went to bed.

“Now lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, bless me Lord, my soul to take.”

I first experienced the loss of someone in 1959, when a good neighbor, Lt. Richard Herndon, was killed in a jet airplane crash. It wasn’t so much his death that affected me as the sudden loss of someone who’d always been there. I felt sadness not only for losing this older friend but for his wife who I never saw again. Mary Herndon was my babysitter.

Death meant little to me for seven more years—until attending my Grandpa Hankins’ funeral on January 25, 1966. I vividly recall that cold, foggy, January morning in Vernon, Alabama, a line of cars following the hearse to Asbury Cemetery.

As we stood under black umbrellas, drizzly rain fell as the pastor said a few words before Grandpa’s casket was lowered into the ground. Seeing his body lying in that coffin back at the church was a sobering sight for me.

The Bible doesn’t specifically mention a year for children reaching the age of accountability, meaning, the year when children become solely responsible for their salvation. Many Catholics believe it’s at seven while Mormons say eight.

The Jewish take things a bit further by claiming it’s thirteen. It appears only God knows the correct answer to that question, him knowing that every child is different based upon their maturity. Some pastors are already shaking their heads before I even finish.

I’m not specifically talking about sin here, but the point a child “doesn’t go” to Heaven without asking Jesus to save them. I didn’t make that important commitment until 1973 soon after turning nineteen.

Getting back to the main subject, it wasn’t until after I made that life-changing decision in the early 70s that I began to notice the power associated with prayer. Our son, Gunnar, came down with spinal meningitis at nine months and was seriously ill.

Rushing him to Providence Hospital, resident pediatrician, Dr. Tower, took Joleen and me into a room and asked if we wanted to pray for our son. Of course, we did. Afterward, friends and family were doing the same. Miraculously, Gunnar came through without any brain damage, although some of his friends will jokingly question that.

Our first grandson, Kevin, was born with serious physical irregularities and spent considerable time in Denver Children’s Hospital. Many prayer warriors are responsible for his remarkable recovery. Kevin just recently entered Cedarville College where he plans on becoming a neurologist.

I’ve seen the power of prayer help pull close friends out of the stranglehold of cancer, with my wife and two of her sisters included. Lying in a Lake Havasu City, Arizona, hospital bed one night with my heart buzzing like a chainsaw, and destined for a procedure the next morning to stop my ticker and then restart it, with tears in my eyes, I asked my wife to go onto my Facebook page and ask for prayers.

She did, and only a few hours later I woke up with a slew of nurses and a doctor standing around me. The cardiologist said that my heart went back to normal on its own—although I knew the real reason why.

Since then, I’ve been involved with many prayer victories regarding health and financial matters of family and friends. Perhaps the biggest prayer miracle of all happened on November 5 of this year. Not to be political in this writing, how could I ignore this event where the power of prayer is concerned. I’ll tread ever so lightly here.

A call went out on October 24 for those of a certain political party to pray for their candidate’s success. The specific time of prayer was to be Monday, November 4, at 6:00 p.m. Millions joined in that day and the result on November 5 was the biggest presidential landslide in United States history.

What I found so “unbelievable” about this, is that not once did I hear the other side pray for their party or candidate. Did they not know about the power of prayer? Something tells me they do now, or at the least the enlightened ones will.