DEVDAS AND THE GREAT SPIRIT

Many years ago in native America, there was a great Indian chief named Kanuna. He was the husband of a beautiful young woman named Salani. One day the Great Spirit blessed them with a wonderful baby boy. On the seventh day after his birth, Kanuna dedicated the baby to the Great Spirit and called his name Atsadi. His parents were so proud of him. The boy grew up and became a great man that the whole tribe loved, and respected. In adulthood, he became known as Devdas. When chief Kanuna died suddenly, everyone expected Devdas to become chief, but he refused. He chose another great man named Ashwin to take his place as chief. This was not the way of the tribe, but Devdas had known for some time that the Great Spirit had other plans for his life.

Many moons before his father, chief Kanuna died, Atsadi had a dream. In the dream, he saw a man in a white robe walk into his village. The man walked up to him and handed him a small black book and told him that the Great Spirit sent him and wanted Atsadi to share the book with all his people. The very next day, a group of Christians came to the village. They told the tribe about a God who loves everyone and became a man and lived on earth, and sacrificed himself to save the world. When they showed them the Bible, Atsadi knew the Great Spirit had sent the men, and he knew what he had to do. So, instead of preparing to become chief, he chose to follow Jesus and teach his people about him.

Atsadi was baptized in Fox River and became a Christian. He began translating the Bible into his native tongue and teaching his tribe about Jesus. He established a church there and started traveling to neighboring clans preaching and teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. In a few short years, he had planted eight churches and introduced thousands to Jesus, including his friend Ashwin, and chief Kanuna.

It’s amazing how God works to spread the gospel across the world and there are many other stories like this one. I heard one story about an evangelist who went to a large city and preached to large crowds of people night after night for a week. At the end of the week, only one young man accepted Jesus and was baptized. The preacher felt like a failure. In the eyes of many, he was a failure on that trip. But God doesn’t measure success or failure by numbers. That young man went on to become an evangelist himself, and over his lifetime, he led thousands to Jesus. We don’t know exactly what God has planned for our lives, but we do know that he has a plan. All we need to do is follow him, and allow him to use us in his plan.

Many times it may mean changing plans we have laid out for ourselves, or even giving up our dreams. We may have to abandon a long line of tradition like Atsadi did. In Bible times, many people even changed their names when they met God like Atsadi did. By the way, Atsadi means fish. Devdas, the name he embraced as an adult, means Servant of God.

Today, when we commit our lives to following God, we get a new name. We become “Christians” which means “Christ-Like”, or “Like Christ.” The name, in and of itself, doesn’t make us anything. Our commitment to God and the new nature he gives us are what count. As born-again believers, we have our names in the Book of Life, and if we endure until the end, we will live forever with him (Matthew 24:13). That will more than makeup for anything we may have to give up or change.

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ABDUCTED BY ALIENS

One night, when I was eight years old I had a terrible dream. I continued to have the same dream, periodically, in every detail, for the next thirty years.

When the dream begins it’s night, and my entire family is gathered at my great aunt’s house. My aunt, my mother, both my grandmothers, and my two sisters I had at the time, were all in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal. My two grandpas, who had both died years earlier, were also there, sitting in the living room, watching TV with my dad, and my great-uncle. They were all very focused on what they were watching, not saying a word.

I was there in the living room with the men. I was walking around, looking at them, but they didn’t seem to notice me at all like I wasn’t even there. I sensed something was wrong, so I slowly walked into the kitchen where the women were. They were all talking, and laughing as they prepared the food. I looked around at each of their faces for a minute. I could see by their laughter and smiles that they were all happy.

As I continued to look around, I caught a glimpse of something moving outside the window that was directly behind where my aunt was sitting at the table. As I slowly moved around to where I could get a better look, I saw an alien looking in the window. I didn’t want to scare the women, so I slowly turned and left the kitchen. I went back to the living room to tell the men about it, but they were all gone, and the TV was off.

At that moment, I heard a noise at the front door. The deadbolt started to vibrate. Then it slowly slid back and the door slowly opened. I saw a long set of gold-colored stairs coming down from the sky directly to the front door. Three aliens were slowly walking down the stairs. The one in the middle was taller than the other two. When they finally reached the threshold and stepped inside the house, they started moving around very quickly. One of them grabbed one of my sisters and placed a large band-aid on her face. Another grabbed me from behind and stuck the same kind of band-aid on my face. Then, with a quick jerk, the alien pulled the band-aid off my face, and everything went black.

That’s where the dream ended. That’s where it always ended. For more than thirty years that dream haunted me. Not every night, but quite often. I always wondered why it kept returning time and time again. I was sure it meant something, but I couldn’t figure out what. If I were like some people who believe in little, green aliens, I might have concluded that we had been abducted by them. I’ve always believed in God, and I know he has all the answers, and I talked to him about it, on several occasions, but I had never gotten an answer.

Then, one morning I woke up at the end of the dream. As I lay there in bed thinking about it, I asked God again to show me what the dream meant, and this time he did. For the first time in thirty years, it was clear. I really can’t put it into words but he revealed the whole thing all at once. Like opening a door, or pulling back a curtain. I just knew instantly. I was amazed as I recalled the dream and went through it step by step. Here’s what God revealed to me.

THE MISSING MEN
The Men didn’t notice me because they never really knew me. My Grandmother had raised me and one of my sisters from the time I was three, and she was two. My grandpa on my mother’s side had died before I was born and I only saw my grandpa on my dad’s side three times in my whole life; once when I was very young, once when he was sick and in bed before he died, and the last time was at his wake after he died. I never saw my dad enough to get to know him until I was twelve, and my uncle had only married my aunt a little while before the dream started. So, there had been no men in my life up to this point.

THE ALIENS
Right around the time I turned eight years old, my mom and dad separated again, and she came to stay with us. By that time she had another child who was five years old. My mother left her with us for a few days, and someone reported this to the Welfare office, which is now known as the Department of Human Services (DHS). Two female social workers and a male police officer came, and forcibly, took all three of us and put us into foster homes. They were the three aliens in my dream.

THE BAND-AIDS
Putting the band-aids on us, and ripping them off, represented the fact that they tried to help fix our situation, but we had to go through some pain. We were put into foster care for a while, and some bad things happened there. Our grandmother went to court and got full custody of all three of us, and she raised us to adulthood. Many years have passed since then, but we have not yet fully recovered from the whole situation. God is working on it, and fixing one thing at a time, as we allow him to. In 2 Timothy 1:7, the Bible says,

“For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7).

This is what God has done, and is doing in our lives. Restoring all that Satan took from us, and replacing the spirit of fear with the Spirit of power, love, and sound minds. What an amazing God we serve. Here’s another amazing thing. After he revealed the meaning of the dream to me that morning, I have never had it again, and I no longer have nightmares like I did before that morning. Many of the fears that I lived with for years vanished as I drew closer to the Lord. It’s amazing to see God working to heal, and restore. I pray that you will trust God, and ask him to work in your life to heal and restore whatever has been broken. He will help you with your inner struggles, whatever they may be. He will put all the pieces back into the right places, and get you back on the right road, and he’ll help you to keep moving in the right direction.

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A MAN ON THE EDGE

It’s one fifteen in the morning. Chris is startled from sleep by a blood-chilling scream. By the time he gathers his senses, he realizes the scream came from his own mouth. The dream again. The same dream, over and over, for years. A better description would be a nightmare. This one is not as bad as some of the others he has, almost nightly, but this one keeps coming back. The sweat burns his eyes as he tries to catch his breath, and he wonders, “What’s going on with me?” He won’t get much sleep for the rest of the morning. Six a.m. will come, and he will be so tired he won’t be able to function properly all day.

That’s the way it’s been for several years now. The meaning of many of his nightmares is perfectly clear to Chris, but he doesn’t have a clue about this one. Maybe that’s why it haunts him. Maybe he needs to understand. He just doesn’t know. What he does know is that it’s not normal. He knows that everybody doesn’t dream the same dream over and over, again and again, year after year. He wishes to be normal. He wishes he could get some sleep.

The lack of sleep, and the pressures of work, along with a thousand other problems, have led to anxiety and depression, which have given rise to other problems, both physical and emotional. All this is having a negative effect on his relationships with his family and friends, and it’s affecting his performance at his job, as well.

Now, he lies in bed, tossing and turning, trying desperately to get back to sleep. His mind just won’t rest. It won’t even slow down. One thought jumps to another, and another, and then another until they all run together. Finally, after hours of restlessness, Chris finally falls asleep. Less than an hour later his alarm goes off. He hits the snooze to rest a few more minutes. By the time he gets awake enough to move, he realizes he has overslept.

Running late again, he fights his way through the thick rush of morning traffic. Finally, he makes it to work. The morning wears on slowly, and he is bombarded with paperwork. He has several moments where he almost walks out, never to return, but he perseveres, and lunchtime finally arrives. Exhausted from lack of sleep, and drained from the morning’s toil, the last thing on his mind is food. All he can think about is closing his eyes and never opening them again. He goes to his car, sets the alarm on his watch for one hour, and quickly falls asleep.

An hour passes, and when the alarm on Chris’ watch startles him awake, he feels as though he had only just closed his eyes a minute ago. He drags himself out of his car and back to work for two more terribly long, agonizing hours. Quitting time finally arrives, bringing with it a breath of fresh air, and a sigh of relief. Still, Chris feels overwhelmed and drained of all his energy, so he drags himself to his car, and heads home for the day.

As he drives home, he thinks to himself, “There’s gotta be more to life than this. If not, why even go on living?” Just then, he looks up at the sky, and says out loud, “Why don’t you help me, God?” He spends the rest of the ride home talking to Jesus and hoping for some kind of answer, some way to feel better, some peace, some closure. “It has to get better,” he says, “It has to.”

Does that sound familiar in any way? It’s sad that, so often, we have to reach our lowest point before we call on God for help. He wants to be our friend and constant companion in all situations. In the good times as well as the bad. Many times a situation would have been resolved long before it escalated into something unbearable if we would only stay in constant communication with God, as Jesus did when he was on earth.

In today’s world, a close relationship with Jesus is what we all need to stay on the right track. We are being attacked on every side. We need his help to remain strong in the face of opposition. Christian persecution may not have affected you yet, but Christians around the world are being persecuted and killed every day. None of us can stand for God in the face of such evil acts unless we spend time, daily, in his presence.

Trust him (Psalm 9:10). Obey him (Luke 11:28). Pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17). Give him all your burdens (1 Peter 5:7), and he will give you strength to face anything, and still be able to stand up for him and his truth. ---

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© 2012 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

Adapted for the book “Inspiration For The Journey” by Teddy Lynn © 2012-2016 All Rights Reserved

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OUR 34 YEAR OLD MIRACLE

A little more than 34 years ago, my wife informed me that she was having strange pains. I was concerned of course, but I didn’t think it was too serious. After all, she was pregnant, and discomfort comes with the territory. Right? Right. It couldn’t be labor pains because she was barely seven months along.

As day turned to night, the pain got worse, so we headed to the hospital, over fifty miles away. When we arrived, we found out it was labor pains, after all. The doctor said it was way too early, and the baby was way too small. He wasn’t due for almost three whole months, so they had to try to stop the labor.

They gave my wife medication for hours, and then hours turned into days. After a few days, the doctor decided he couldn’t stop the labor with the medication. To try any longer could harm the baby if it hadn’t already. He was going to come out.

We knew he was a boy and had already named him Zakary; with that weird spelling. It doesn’t seem that weird to me at all, though. It’s a better way to spell the name than ZACHARY, which I’ve never really liked at all. I guess that’s why I wanted to spell it differently. His mother wanted to name him after Zach from the TV show we loved called Saved By The Bell. She said we could name him Zakary, and call him Zak, which she never did. I got the spelling for the name from a baseball card I had of Zakary Taylor.

For months, we had been anticipating his arrival, and we were so ready to hold him in our arms, but now we were worried; really worried. It’s too early. He’s too small. He may not survive, and if he does, he may have lots of problems.

Wanting to prepare us for the worst, the doctor said, “his lungs are not developed yet. We need to give him a few rounds of steroids to help them develop. Even then, there’s no guarantee. He’ll have to stay in the hospital for a good while. He only weighs about three pounds.”

Frightening news, but we were praying, and begging God to let our son be alright. We knew God could make everything okay. He had so many times before. But, there had also been times I had prayed when things hadn’t gone well, so I was still worried.

After a few more days, and some more steroids, the doctor said he couldn’t hold back the labor any longer. We would just have to deal with whatever problems the baby would have as a result of being premature. So the next step was to go ahead and let him come out, and start working on him to ensure his survival. So, they broke the water, and we waited.

Not long into our wait, the nurses ran into the room and started checking the machines. The machines were working properly. The baby’s heart had stopped. It started back, but his heart rate kept dropping back down. After his heart stopped a second time, they rushed us down to the operating room and began a C-section to get him out as soon as possible. In no time, the doctor had him out and held him up. He was alive and breathing on his own, and he soon let everyone in the room know for sure that his lungs were well-developed. We were so happy to hear him crying.

What a miracle! The premature baby with undeveloped lungs, which the doctor said only weighed three pounds, turned out to have great lungs, and weighed over seven pounds. Praise the Lord! Thank you, Jesus.

As I held my firstborn son in my arms, I was filled with joy and awe. God had given me my heart’s desire; a son. The Bible tells us that children are a blessing from the Lord (Psalm 127:3-5). That day, that blessing was bestowed on me, and I thanked God for giving me a son.

Today, we're celebrating Zakk’s 34th birthday. That’s over a quarter of a century. It sounds like a long time, but in some ways, it seems like only yesterday when I first looked into the eyes of that beautiful blessing from God. He’s grown into a fine young man, and I’m so proud of him. He reminds me so much of me when I was his age. I love him so much, and I thank God for him, and for the awesome miracle he performed for us 34 years ago.

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© 2015 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
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DREAMS FROM GOD

I’ve had many dreams in my lifetime. Some, I didn’t remember at all when I woke up, and some faded soon after I awoke, before I could think too much about them. But, many of them, I still remember, like it was yesterday.

I remember some dreams that I really don’t think meant anything, and I’ve had several where it was pretty clear why I dreamed them. I’ve had many dreams that I’m sure came straight from Satan, or at least from his evil forces, and I’ve had several dreams that I know for sure came straight from God.

If you’ve been following my blog you know that I was raised in church. When I was sixteen years old, I quit going to church and began a three-year romance with alcohol and drugs.

One night I had one of those dreams that I know came from God. I remember it in great detail. In the dream, it appeared to be mid-afternoon in late Spring or early Summer. It was a lovely day, and everything was so green and beautiful. The sun was bright and warm, but there was a nice calm breeze. I was standing outside near a big oak tree, next to a field connected to the wood line. The wind started blowing a bit harder and quickly grew. It soon became so windy that the big oak tree was being blown back and forth like a small bush.

I heard the long blast of a trumpet. At that point, I knew exactly what was happening. Jesus was returning for his people. As I looked up, the sky changed color, and I saw the Face of God filling the sky. Then I saw Jesus descending from heaven.

I fell on my knees and cried out to God. I said, “No! Please, not now, God! I’m not ready! I’m not ready!”

That’s where the dream ended. I’m sure no one needs a degree in dream interpretation to understand what God was telling me.

Then, one day cousin invited me to go to church with him, so I did. Later that year I met Jesus and gave my life to him, and then I received another dream from God.

This time the sky was clear and everything was calm and so quiet. I was walking over some big white rocks beside a body of water. Jesus was walking with me, holding my hand. I could feel his love for me, and I felt so peaceful and happy. It was the best feeling I had ever felt. That was the dream.

Many years have passed since I had that dream, and Jesus has never left me to walk alone. At times, I’ve let go of his hand, but he’s always been there to pick me up and dust me off when I’ve fallen. He’s always there for me; when things are going well, and when the road gets rough. Things are not perfect, and I know they never will be here in this sinful world, but someday the troubles of this world will be over, and we’ll live in a perfect world with no more tears, no more pain, and no more death. I’m longing for that time, more and more each day.

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© 2015 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @
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