Showing posts with label Mississippi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mississippi. Show all posts

March 20, 2022

NO CHICKEN FOR ME PLEASE


When I was around nine or ten years old, I lived in the small town of Theo, Mississippi with my grandmother, and two of my younger sisters. The town was only a few square miles in size, so we could walk to the store, or walk to visit our aunt or any of the neighbors my grandmother decided to visit. We didn’t have a car, but our aunt did, so if we needed to go outside our little community, she would take us.

One day, we walked to the store, and on our way back home, we stopped to visit one of the neighbors who was friends with my grandmother. They had known each other for many years.

She was cooking the next meal for her family so she invited us inside to visit while she cooked.

She asked my grandmother if we would like to stay, and eat with them. My grandmother thanked her for the invitation and accepted it. I was thinking, sure, okay, I’m a little hungry. I could eat something. She said, “We’re having chicken. Shake ‘n Bake chicken.” She had my attention because I loved chicken.

We were good kids, at least in other people’s homes. We were taught to be quiet and not interrupt while grownups were talking, so we sat still and were quiet, for the most part, as the adults talked, and laughed.

Then she started to prepare the chicken to cook. Back then, I don’t remember ever seeing chicken pre-cut, so the chicken was whole, and you had to cut it up yourself before cooking, so that’s what she did first. Then she washed the pieces of chicken and put them in a bowl.

Then, she put the Shake ‘n Bake mix in the bag and dropped a few pieces of chicken into the mix. Then, she proceeded to put the bag to her mouth and blow into it like a balloon filling it with air from her mouth. Then she started shaking it to coat the chicken with the breading.

“Oh, God! Help me, Jesus! Please get me out of here” That’s kind of what I was screaming in my mind. There was no way I was going to eat that chicken after what I just saw. I couldn’t tell them I didn’t want to eat it because I thought what she did was nasty, but I couldn’t even imagine eating it. So I told my grandmother I wanted to go home. I insisted and persisted. I told her I didn’t feel good, and I really didn’t after what I had just witnessed. I begged her, “Please, let’s go home. Please.” I begged, and pled with her until she finally gave in, and we went home.

In Luke 18:1-8, Jesus told a parable about a Persistent Widow. In verse 1, he tells us the meaning of the parable is that we should always pray and not give up until we get an answer.

1 Thessalonians 5:17, says to “pray without stopping.” We need to be in a constant state of prayer. We need to keep our connection with God open at all times, not only when we need something or want something. He’s always there, so we can talk to him all day long just like we would with any other friend.

We may not always get the answer we want, and the answer may not come immediately, but when we have some specific need, we should keep asking until he answers us.

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February 10, 2020

MY AMAZING AUNT - A TRUE PIONEER


In my mind, my Aunt Lee was a miracle worker, an inventor, a pioneer, and an amazing aunt, among other things. She wasn’t perfect, but we loved her very much, and she loved us. She was smart. She was a very hard worker, and very independent. She was an average-sized woman, but she had muscles like a man. She had a hard life. She grew up in the early 1900s working in the fields in Mississippi. She was born on 1/1/1919.
She was actually my great aunt, my grandmother’s sister. Their mother was a Cherokee Indian. They still practiced some of the old ways of our ancestors; Especially natural healing, although some of that had been diluted over the years. One of my sisters fell over on a wood-burning heater when she was just learning to walk. She burned her head badly before anyone could get her off the heater. I remember Aunt Lee and my grandmother putting some kind of concoction on it. They said it would “Take the fire out of it.” It healed, but she still has a spot on her head with no hair to this day.
A few years later, I burned the back of my hand on the same kind of heater. My aunt went out and found an earthworm, and fried it in a skillet with some other stuff. Then she mixed it with some molasses, and God only knows what else. She made a poultice with it, and put it on my hand to “Take the fire out of it.” It healed up, but it left an ugly scar. I could still see it after I became an adult, but it had moved several inches up my arm. Today, I can’t see it at all.
She taught us how to live off the land, mainly by gardening, and canning to preserve food for later. She had a peach orchard in her backyard beside her garden. In the summer we helped her and our grandmother work in the garden and then harvest it. We had fresh vegetables all summer and we canned some of them in jars for the winter. We canned peaches and made peach cobbler pie. 
She was the first person to ever take us fishing. There was a small bridge over a large creek below Dead Man's Curve on Highway 72. We fished for a while and caught several "big ones." When we got back to her house, she put the fish in a big iron pot and poured scalding hot water on them. If I remember correctly, she had her stepson scrape all the scales off with a knife and clean the fish. Then she cooked them. When they were done, she magically removed all the bones “so we wouldn’t get choked, and die.” I didn’t know how she did it at the time, but I was glad to know I could eat it without dying.
She was a miracle worker alright. She always had cornbread. She would make it in a big skillet and it would be thick, too. What was left, she would save for the next day. By then, it would be hard and tough, but she had a little trick. She would carefully pour milk or water over the bread slowly enough to let it soak in. Then she would warm it up in the oven and make it just as good as it was the day it was cooked.
She could work a miracle with milk as well. She could take a gallon of milk, and magically turn it into two gallons right before your eyes. It wasn’t really magic, of course. She would buy a new gallon of milk, then pour half of the full gallon into an empty milk jug, then fill both of them up with water. Boom! She instantly made two gallons of milk from one. When I talked to my kids about that years later, I joked that she invented 1% milk or more like .5%. Haha. In reality, I guess it was 50% milk, but I just remember thinking it tasted like it was mostly water.
I really do think she invented bacon bits. She would intentionally cook her bacon too long, and when it cooled down, it would be very brittle. "Brickle, as she called it." Then she would break it up into small pieces and put them on her eggs. She made ours like that sometimes when we would eat with her and it tasted pretty good.
She was a pretty remarkable woman, and she always challenged us to be all we could possibly be in every area of our lives. When I started learning my multiplication tables, I had to write them all out. When I told her what I was having to do, she asked me how high I was having to go. I told her “ones through twelves. That’s as high as they go.” She told me I needed to go to my twenties. I thought that was too much. Writing all those lines up through the twelves was too much for me, but I did what she told me to, and you know what? I don’t remember what 13×5, 6, or 7 is.
She was tall and skinny and built like a man. She spent most of her life working like a man. She built things and repaired things. She had an outhouse for years, but she finally built a bathroom inside when we were older. She had all kinds of things in her house that I always thought was pretty neat. There was painter’s putty, paint, gaskets for cars, corkboard to make gaskets, and all kinds of other stuff.
She had an antique, foot pedal-operated sewing machine that she used to make quilts and clothes. They looked professional, too. She made many of our clothes. She had a collection of patterns for everything, I guess. She had crocheting needles, hooks, yarn, and a neat sewing basket with all kinds of needles, thimbles, threaders, and every color thread you could think of. She had an awesome button collection with every color, shape, and size you could imagine.
She used to make toys for us from the empty thread spools. She had a checkerboard that she had made from a piece of paneling. She uses old soda bottle caps for the checkers. She gave it to us when we were older but I don’t remember what ever happened to it.
She had an entire wall filled with pictures and not many matching frames. Some were metal, some were plastic and some were wood. They were all different sizes, too. She was a pioneer in that area. At a time when that wasn’t popular, she dared to do it.
She had the first T.V. I ever remember seeing. It was a big floor model in a brightly stained wooden cabinet. There was room on the top for her big, black telephone with the clear rotary dial and the long spiral wire that connected the receiver. She was on a party line, which meant she shared the line with a few other people. I remember picking up the receiver one time and hearing two older ladies talking. It scared me to death. I just knew they would tell my aunt that I was messing with her phone when I had been specifically told not to. I don’t know why I thought they would even know who it was, but I was scared anyway.
There was also room on her TV for an ashtray, a stack of papers, a telephone directory, and a lamp, if I remember correctly. At one point, she had a small, green, ceramic planter made to look like a log. She had a small green plant in it with small leaves. It ran up and over the top of the curtains that covered her large, picture window. We didn’t have a TV at home so we thought it was amazing to watch, on the rare occasion when she would have it on during our visits. I remember seeing shows like Bonanza, Gun Smoke, and Hee Haw.
One day the picture tube went out on the TV, so it wouldn’t show a picture. The audio still worked though, so she listened to it like a radio for a while. She didn’t have a lot of money, so she couldn’t just run out and buy a new set, but she got a used one that showed a picture, but had no sound. It was smaller than her floor set, so she put it on top of the big one, and turned both of them on. Then once again, she could see what she was hearing. Creative and innovative.
She was married a few times. All of her husbands had died except one. I thought he was dead for a few years because he wasn’t with her, and we had never seen him. I heard her talking about him having an accident that broke his neck. For some reason, I thought a person died if they had a broken neck, but evidently, he didn’t. I found out when I was older that he was very much alive.
She had several men to come courting, but we didn’t know that was what they were doing at the time. Finally, when we were older, she met Uncle Tony and married him. We grew to love him as much as we loved her.
I only remember being angry with her a few times. Once, I did something I shouldn’t have done. I don’t remember what it was, but she was going to whip me, so I ran from her. Big mistake. She chased me, and she was pretty fast, too.
I ran around behind our house. Then I saw a shed that my uncle had built so I ran around behind it but the woods were thick back there, so I was forced to turn back to the path I had been on behind the house. When I came out from behind the shed, there she was! She had cut me off. I remember screaming because I was shocked to see her there, and she almost got me. Now she was even closer than before. She was right on my heels.
I was running to find my grandmother. When I finally made it to her, I ran behind her, but that didn’t help much. Aunt Lee reached over my grandmother’s shoulder and slapped me. She hit me right in the mouth and made my lip bleed. My grandmother didn’t like that at all, so they had an argument which actually happened probably once every couple of months anyway, for some reason or another. Sometimes they would get so mad at each other that they would go weeks without even speaking to each other, even though we lived right next door.
She wasn’t really a bad person. She was just human, like the rest of us, but she certainly loved her family, and she had a good heart.
When my sisters, and I were taken away from our grandmother, and put into foster care, she did everything she could to help her get us back. She helped her buy a mobile home, and she gave us some property to put it on. She helped our grandmother raise us, educate us, and take care of us. I have a lot of good memories of her.
Like a lot of others, I have many bad memories from my childhood, but I have plenty of good memories, too, and those are the ones I try to focus on the most. That’s what we should all do; Focus on the good things rather than the bad.
In Philippians 4:8, the Apostle Paul tells us this; “Whatever is true, honest, right, and pure, whatever is friendly, respectful, virtuous, and worthy of praise, think about these things.” If we would all follow these instructions every day, we would be much happier people. Let’s try it; Shall we?
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© 2020 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved
My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6

January 19, 2020

THE ANGEL AND THE HITCHHIKER


When I was a young man, I had several strange experiences. I want to share a couple of them with you today. This one happened when I was nineteen or twenty years old. I was a young Christian and I was always looking for opportunities to help others. When I saw someone with car trouble on the side of the road, I would stop and try to help. When I saw someone walking, I would always stop and offer them a ride.
One day, I was driving West on Highway 72 just outside Walnut, Mississippi. I saw a man walking on the side of the road and figured he needed a ride so I pulled off the road just in front of him to see if he did. I didn’t even have time to ask if he needed a ride. As soon as I stopped, he hurried to my car and opened the passenger side door, and got in. I asked him where he was going and he said, “Just up the road.”
He started talking as soon as he sat down. He didn’t give me much opportunity to say anything. In the midst of all his talking, he said he was an angel. I was surprised, and a bit skeptical. His eyes looked like he had been drinking, and his clothes and hair were a mess, so I had my doubts. I don’t remember half of what he said because he was talking a mile a minute. He talked about all kinds of stuff including God and angels, and then he started saying something about Mexican people being demons; Diablos, he said. Right away I knew he wasn’t what he was claiming to be.
He might be an angel, but not an angel of God. I didn’t know how to respond to the crazy things he was saying. When he seemed to finally be out of things to say, I nervously said, “Are you really an angel?” As I asked the question, I glanced his way. I could see that he was very angry as he turned and stared at me with bloodshot eyes and an evil look on his face. With a loud voice, he said, “Man, I don’t lie. You don’t know what I can do. I could kill you and take your car, and leave you on the side of the road. I could destroy that bridge and pick this car up off the road and fly us right across.”
At that point, I didn’t hear or understand anything else he said. I just remember he was talking loud and cursing. I was so scared that all I could do was pray. I said, “God, please help me. Please get this guy out of my car.” Well, God answered my prayer. A traffic light was just ahead, and Thank God it was red. As soon as I stopped, the guy opened the door and stepped out of the car, and walked away without saying a word. As soon as that light changed to green, I got out of there as fast as I could. I was so glad and so thankful to God for answering my plea for help. I thanked him over and over for protecting me and getting me away from that guy unharmed. Thank you again, Father. Thank you.
Another time, before that incident, I was on the same road, headed in the same direction, but further east. I was driving with the windows down enjoying the fresh air. It was late spring or early summer. It was late afternoon and the weather was nice. The sun was shining but there was a nice cool breeze. I remember seeing the yellow sage grass on the lower side of the road softly moving back and forth.
I was leaving Corinth, headed west when I saw a man walking West on the shoulder of the highway. He was carrying a small bag on his shoulder so I figured he was traveling a good distance. I pulled off the road a few yards in front of him and waited for him to walk up to the car so I could offer him a ride. He walked up to the passenger door and bent down to look inside the car. I said, “Do you need a ride?” He looked at me with a smile and said, “No, it’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining. I think I’ll just walk, and enjoy it for a while.” I said, “Okay. You have a good day.” He said, “And you as well.”
I checked for traffic, then pulled out on the highway. As I drove away, I glanced at the rear-view mirror to take a last look at the guy, but I didn’t see him. I quickly turned and look out my back window but he just wasn’t there. Where was he? What had happened to him? I thought he may have stepped down the embankment on the side of the road, or maybe he had sat down. Back then, the road was only two lanes, so I quickly turned around and went back to where I had stopped and talked to him. He was nowhere in sight. I looked everywhere, but he was just gone. He disappeared too quickly for any other explanation. I’m sure I encountered an angel that day. When that thought occurred to me, I remembered the smile and the look of peace on his face and how calm and gentle his voice was when he spoke to me, and then I was sure. He must have been an angel, or Jesus himself. That was an amazing experience. It reminds me of two verses from the Bible. One is found in Hebrews 13:2.
Hebrews 13:2
2 Do not forget to entertain strangers because by doing so, some have unknowingly entertained angels.
I’ve had several amazing experiences, and some very strange ones when stopping to help people and giving people rides on the highway over the years, and I’m so thankful to God for protecting me when I’m trying to help others. In our world today, it can be dangerous to deal with strangers, but that shouldn’t deter us from helping others. I still stop and offer to help people, but I pray first and ask God if I should. Sometimes he says yes, and sometimes he says no. If I don’t stop I always pray for them. Sometimes that’s all you can do for people anyway, but if it were me out there, I would hope someone would at least offer to help.
Constant communication with God is very important. 1 Thessalonians 5:1 says, “Pray without ceasing.” We need his guidance in every situation. We don’t need to wait until we’re in trouble before asking for his help. Many times, the messes we get ourselves in could have been avoided if we had just talked to him first. We can be good Christians. We can obey God and show love and kindness to others like we’re commanded and we can be safe from those who would harm us if we depend on him for help and guidance.
The second verse I was thinking of is found in Matthew 25:31-46 where Jesus is talking about what will happen in the judgment when he returns and separates the sheep from the goats; the saved from the lost.
He basically said, whatever we do to others in need, we are doing it to him.
We can help him or ignore him, but there’s a price to pay for ignoring people in need. Compassion for others seems to be rare these days but it shouldn’t be, and it wouldn’t be if we would all follow the Golden Rule that Jesus laid out in Matthew 7:12.
Matthew 7:12
12 So treat others like you want them to treat you
If everyone would just follow this simple rule, the world would be a much better place.
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https://teddylynn.blogspot.com
https://teddylynn.wordpress.com
© 2018 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved
My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6

September 10, 2018

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED


Several years ago, I was working at a place called Parker, in Booneville, Mississippi. I worked there for ten years and drove to work down highway 45. I saw lots of things on that road in those ten years, and several not-so-good things happened to me on that road, but one of the strangest, most unsettling things happened one day while I was driving home after work.
As I came into the little town of Biggersville and went down the hill, there was a long flat stretch of highway. The road had four lanes; two northbound lanes, and two southbound ones separated by a grassy median. I was in the right northbound lane and there was, at least, one vehicle beside me in the left northbound lane. I like to be aware of what’s going on around me when I’m on the road, so I’m always checking my mirrors. The next I looked, I saw a car coming up behind me. It was moving pretty fast. I could tell he was speeding. I was sure he would slow down to the speed limit before he got to me, but as he came closer, I saw that he was not going to slow down. I was shocked at what he did next.
He couldn’t pass me in the left lane because someone else was there right beside me, so he passed me on my right side. He left the highway, and almost lost control as he went into the gravel. The car slid to the right, then back to the left. Rocks flew all over my car as the guy struggled to stay in control. To make matters worse, there was a bridge right there in front of us. Fortunately, just as we reached the guard rails he got the car back on the road just in time to cross the bridge without hitting it. Thank God for that. It could have ended badly. Wow! What an insane experience!
Another time, I was headed to work on the same road early in the morning, and it was snowing. I guess it had been snowing longer toward Booneville because the closer I got to work, the worse it was. I was going up that same hill in Biggersville when the tires on my van started spinning. Soon, I came to a complete stop. Thank God there wasn’t much traffic out. Since I couldn’t go forward, I started backing down the hill to get a fresh start and a little more speed. As I was backing down, I saw an eighteen-wheeler coming toward me. I was concerned, of course, but my heart almost jumped out of my chest when the truck started up the hill and started sliding. Fortunately, I had gotten over on the left side of the road and had the left wheels where the gravel was. After a few long minutes of holding my breath, the truck finally made it past me safely. Then I continued backing back down to the flat part of the highway as quickly as I possibly could in those conditions. Thankfully, I made it down before any other vehicles came. Then, I started back up the hill with a little more speed than I had before, and soon, I was over the hill and back on my way to work. Another situation where I'm thankful God was with me.
On the roads we go down every day, there are many things to cause us stress and aggravation. There are things that cause us to slow down, and sometimes even stop. Many times, there are things that make us take detours, but if we are headed to a certain place, we usually don’t allow any of those things to stop us from reaching our destination.
There’s a road that’s less traveled. It’s referred to by many names, but many call it “the road to heaven.” On the road to heaven, we should be even more determined to reach our destination. There are many things that get in our way, and slow us down. We can get distracted and even stop at times, but we have to keep going. There’s too much at stake to turn back now. Love for Jesus and the promise of eternal life with him are great motivators, but sometimes the cares of this life, and the things of this world make us lose sight of our destination.
Jesus said the road that leads to life is narrow, and not everyone will find it (Matthew 7:14). So, if you’ve found that road, stay on it, and don’t let anything make you stop and turn back. If you haven’t found the road to heaven, then let me point you to the map that will show you the way. God’s Word, the Holy Bible, is that map. If you follow this map, it will lead you home, and Jesus, his Father, and the Holy Spirit will all be right there with you every step of the way. Have a happy journey. I’ll see you on the other side.
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My Blogs
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com
https://teddylynn.wordpress.com
© 2018 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved
My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6

September 24, 2017

THE FLOOR, THE CAMERA, AND THE SANDWICH


I’ve already told you about my oldest memory, well I think this is my second oldest one. I remembered playing on the living room floor with a small toy car or truck in that little house my grandma was renting from the Richardsons in Theo, Mississippi. They also owned one of the little country stores that were there at the time.
I remember rolling a small ball around on the same floor. The floor wasn’t level so the ball would roll by itself. All I had to do was place it at the high point of the floor and let it go, then it would roll a couple of feet to hit the baseboard, and then come to a stop in the corner. I recall doing that over and over again. It never got old.
I also remember that part of the linoleum was torn back from the wall revealing another layer of older linoleum that was not torn as far from the wall as the top layer. The edges had been tacked down with those little black tacks. The raw wood floor was made of narrow boards, probably four or five inches wide.
Even though we moved from there when I was six or seven, I can still see much of the house in my mind. We have several pictures of the outside but I don’t think there were ever any taken on the inside. My grandmother had one of those old square shutter cameras without a flash. That’s the camera she used until she died. It had a viewfinder bubble, so you had to hold the camera down in front of you to see the image you wanted to take. Then you pushed a small handle down with your thumb to snap the picture. Then you had to manually turn a knob on the side to roll the film into position to take the next picture. They needed plenty of light to take a good picture so to get the best picture quality, outside on a sunny day was ideal.
The siding on the house was made of the same stuff roofing shingles are made from today but it was in big sheets. The roof was covered with corrugated sheets of rusty tin, and there was a small porch at the front of the house where my grandmother would often sit and watch us play in the front yard. We never got too far away from her. She was our protection and our lifeline and I guess we knew it even at such a young age.
In the backyard, we had a small garden in the summer. I remember almost stepping on a snake in that garden and being pulled back by my aunt just in time. When my grandmother first told me the story of Peter Rabbit, that was the garden I pictured in my mind. There was a clothesline strung between two trees at the end of the garden.
One day as she was hanging out clothes, I noticed a knot on a tree, about a foot up from the ground. I ran and jumped on the knot with one foot, then pushed myself off of it and landed back on the ground. I liked that, so I did it again. My grandmother said to me, “Stop before you get hurt.” I thought to myself, “Just one more time.” As I jumped up one last time, my foot slipped off the knot, and instead of bouncing off the tree, my chin slid down the tree, ripping the skin off in several strips. Owhhhhhhhh! I still remember the pain and embarrassment.
Closer to the house there was a spot where the wood for the heater was piled each winter. One winter we had a pile of slabs from the sawmill. I remember picking up boards about two feet long and throwing them higher onto the woodpile. That was also the spot where we would later tie our dog named Clete that we got from our uncle.
It was cold outside, but we were usually pretty warm in our little house, thanks to my grandmother, and our little wood heater, both provided by God, by the way. There was a pan to put the ashes into before carrying them out of the house when the heater would get too full. It always stayed in front of the heater to catch anything that might fall out while stoking the fire or putting more wood in.
I don’t remember where we had been that day, but we had just come home. My grandmother started a fire and put a couple of chairs in front of the heater so we could get warmed up while she fixed us something to eat. Soon, she brought me and my sister each a sandwich on a plate, and then went back into the kitchen.
Now, I never remember wasting food unless it tasted really bad, or unless I found a hair in it, but my little sister was a picky eater. If she didn’t want it, she got rid of it. She took one of her pieces of bread off her sandwich and threw it in the ash pan. Then she folded her other piece in half around her bologna slice.
When our grandmother came back from the kitchen, she saw that piece of bread in the ashpan. For some reason, she slapped me on the leg as she asked me, “Why did you throw that piece of bread in there?” I started crying. I think it was more because she accused me of something I didn’t do, more than the actual slap itself. When I explained what had actually happened, she apologized. After I stopped crying, I finished my sandwich and went on with my life.
I tell you that story because I remember it, not because I hold a grudge against my grandmother. She wasn’t perfect. She made mistakes, just like all parents do, but she loved us and she did the best she could. I don’t hold any grudges against my mom and dad for not raising us either. Too often, people can’t move on in life because they refuse to forgive their parents for the mistakes they made in raising them, but holding on to anger will eat you up inside and you’ll be a miserable person. It robs you of God’s blessings and his forgiveness.
Jesus said if we don’t forgive others, then God won’t forgive us (Matthew 6:14-15). If we’re not forgiven then we won’t make it to heaven, and that would be sad. So if you’re holding on to some hurt because of something someone has done to you, forgive them and be free from that burden Give it to Jesus and move on. Instead of dwelling on hurtful memories, choose to remember good times. The more time we spend with the good memories, the less time we’ll have to think about the bad ones. Try it. It really helps.

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My Blogs
https://teddylynn.blogspot.com
https://teddylynn.wordpress.com

© 2017 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
https://www.amazon.com/Teddy-Lynn/e/B01MZDB6L6

January 08, 2017

WAS JESUS A NAZARITE?


Was Jesus a Nazarite? Many people believe he was but the word of God doesn’t support that. In fact, it shows the opposite to be true. He was a Nazarene, which simply means he was from Nazareth of Galilee, a little town in Northern Israel. Maybe that’s where the confusion comes from; Nazarene, Nazarite. A Nazarite is someone who has taken the Nazarite vow. Being a Nazarite was not necessarily a lifetime commitment. It appears to be only for a limited time. Jesus was NOT a Nazarite, at least not after he was baptized and began his ministry. Let’s look at a few Bible verses starting with Numbers chapter 6.
Numbers 6:1-8 
1 And the LORD spoke to Moses, saying, 
2 Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, When either man or woman shall separate themselves to vow a vow of a Nazarite, to separate themselves unto the LORD: 
3 He shall separate himself from wine and strong drink, and shall drink no vinegar of wine, nor vinegar of strong drink, neither shall he drink any liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes nor dried. 
4 All the days of his separation he shall eat nothing that is made of the vine tree, from the kernels even to the husk. 
5 All the days of the vow of his separation there shall no razor come upon his head: until the days be fulfilled, in which he separates himself unto the LORD, he shall be holy, and shall let the locks of the hair of his head grow. 
6 All the days that he separates himself unto the LORD, he shall come near no dead body. 
7 He shall not make himself unclean for his father, or for his mother, for his brother, or for his sister, when they die: because the consecration of his God is upon his head. 
8 All the days of his separation he is holy unto the LORD.

According to the Bible, the Nazarite vow included three restrictions.
1) A Nazarite could not drink or eat anything that was made from any part of the grapevine, including fresh grape juice, wine of any kind, strong drink, and grapes, and raisins.
2) A Nazarite could not cut their hair.
3) A Nazarite could not touch a dead body.

This is how we know Jesus was not a Nazarite.
1a) Jesus drank the fruit of the vine. Whether it was grape juice or alcoholic wine is debatable, but the fact remains, he did not keep the first rule of the Nazarite vow.
Luke 7:34
34 The Son of Man has come eating and drinking; and you say, Behold, a glutton, and a drunkard.
1 Cor. 11:25
25 After the same manner also he took the cup when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as often as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.

2a) Did Jesus have long hair? Many believe he did, probably from the many paintings of him with long hair, but we don’t really know what he looked like. We know from one of the many prophecies of his death that he had a beard when he was crucified (Is. 50:6), but the Apostle Paul says, “it is a shame for a man to have long hair” (1 Cor. 11:14). Hair length is subjective, though, like a big dog, or a tall tree. The tallest tree in Mississippi is a Spruce Pine which was 154 feet at the time it was measured. To me, that’s a tall tree, but it’s not tall at all compared to the tallest Giant Redwood ever measured, which was 379 feet tall. The fact is we just can’t be sure what length the Lord’s hair was.
3a) Did Jesus touch a dead body? Yes, he did. In Matthew 9:21-43. A ruler of the synagogue named Jairus came to Jesus begging him to come and heal his daughter who was dying. When they arrived she was already dead, but Jesus went in and took her by the hand, and brought her back to life (Mark 5:22-43, Luke 8:41-56). Numbers 6:11 says it is a SIN for a Nazarite to touch a dead body, and we know Jesus never sinned (Heb. 4:15, 1 John 3:5 1 Pet. 1:18-19 & 2:22).
In, conclusion, Jesus drank the fruit of the vine, and he touched at least one dead body. So, we can say with confidence that Jesus was NOT a Nazarite. He was from Nazareth, which made him a Nazarene.

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April 11, 2016

THE HORSE THAT ALMOST REACHED THE SKY


When I was five years old, my sister and I lived with our grandmother in a place called Theo, in Mississippi. One day a man came by our house on a big, beautiful horse. This was the first time I had seen one up close in person. Not a man, I mean a horse. I’ve seen men before, although this was the first time I had seen this man. His name was Mr. Garrett. Later, I found out that my grandmother had known him for many years.
He talked to her for a bit as his horse made a few funny noises. It acted scared at first, but it finally calmed down. Mr. Garrett asked if we wanted to ride the horse. I quickly said, “No.” It was too high off the ground. To me, it seemed as tall as the sky. My sister wanted to ride, though. She was four and wasn’t afraid. I don’t know if I was afraid, or just cautious, but I didn’t know this man, and I had never seen a horse in person before.
Mr. Garrett reached down from the tall horse to pick up my sister as my grandmother lifted her up to him. He sat her on the saddle in front of him and held her with one hand so she wouldn’t fall. She looked so small up there, and so far away. She didn’t say much, but she smiled and seemed to enjoy it. He made the horse walk around in short circles for a few minutes, then he stopped, and handed my sister back down to my grandmother.
He said he would see us later, he had to be going, and just as quick as he had shown up, he was gone. My sister and I smiled at each other and went back to our lives at our little house, there in Theo.
I miss those days. I miss being a kid. We had no worries. We had our godly grandmother to watch over us, and protect us. I miss her so much, but I have many wonderful memories of my life with her and all my family for that matter. When I’m sad, feeling down, or just tired, I can think of one of those happy memories, and it always makes me smile.
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© 2016 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved
My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @
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