Another American Treasure

In Search of Innocent Acceptance


More and more I find myself wondering where our culture is headed. If I am to believe the liberal view of things, then I am to embrace multiculturalism.  If so, then where does that leave the great artists like Charles Schulz?  Am I to then surrender to the possibility that as political correctness permeates and we lose our spiritual underpinnings of Christmas what happens to Linus van Pelt?


Well just this Christmas season a Kentucky school censored Linus' monologue from the school production of  "A Charlie Brown Christmas."

  See:


Warm remembrances flow through me when I see all things Peanuts and Charlie Brown especially this time of year.   My own simple decorations for the season of Advent are a Peanuts' Nativity and votives in the windows. 


God forbid we should loose meaning in these creations of our country's uniquely excellent illustrator Charles M. Schulz. And it was Mr. Schulz who penned Linus van Pelt's monologue of innocent acceptance reciting scripture of Luke's Gospel:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, fear not for, behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace good will toward men’.”

Luke 2:8-14
(KJV)

Thanks and Blessings Mr. Schulz for enriching many lives. You were and are an American Treasure.


JOY TO THE WORLD!

Bradford Bosworth
Christmas 2015

Divine Appointments

Be Careful What You Wish For.


I have been enamored with football since I began participating in the game as a young boy.  My first “league” organized effort was at the Miami Shores (Fla) Community Center in the 115lb and under division.  I was eleven years old.  As kids the neighborhood pic-up game was an after school staple of our youth and we played tackle with no helmets.  My first allegiance to a team was the Miami Hurricanes and my heroes were Ted Hendricks and George Mira.  I remember taking the bus to the Orange Bowl to watch the Hurricanes play the Florida Gators who had a special quarterback and Heisman Trophy candidate named Steve Spurrier.  Eventually I left south Florida to attend High School in Tennessee and then college in Athens, Georgia at UGA and my loyalties changed, of course.



Back in the early 2000’s when I was a District Manager with a local alcoholic beverage wholesaler, I was fortunate to get an insider’s view of a University of Georgia (UGA) football practice.  One of our key beer brands was a sponsor of Bulldog football radio broadcasts. As an alumnus of UGA and longtime fan of the program it was an extremely gratifying experience. There were three individuals who are planted firmly in my memory from that afternoon on the sidelines of practice and in the reception/dinner afterwards. 


 
The first was a high energy player who seemed to be omnipresent and everywhere throughout the team drills.  He wore #47 and his name was David Pollack. 
The second gentleman happened to be next to me in line at the buffet that evening.  We were the last two to be served.  He is one of my all time most revered sports personalities and to have been able to meet and converse with him is something I will always remember. His name was Larry Munson.




The third individual is the man who said the blessing before the meal:  Head Coach Mark Richt.  At that time I looked at him in an entirely different light. I was aware of his strong religious convictions.  One thing he would let you know and not be shy about was his Faith in God.  But I was more interested in his aptitude for generating wins and championships. Back in those days my faith walk was stalling out, so to speak.  You could say I was running, turning away from God as I am prone to do daily. Over a decade later, I am different now.

Richt back diving with team.

Today I find myself in awe of what has occurred in the course of one calendar week. On Monday (11/30) I was reading sadly about Coach Richt being fired by UGA.  Yes his Bulldogs had some failings that caused performances below expectations particularly when measuring Championships.  But I have come to believe that young men in his program are set up, prepared for life to become solid citizens and assets to the communities they will reside in. When confronted with his firing I found myself saying to myself, “Georgia officials be careful what you wish for….”   I thought the firing was a travesty. I was still confused just a few days later when on Friday (12/4) I saw a picture of Coach Richt being introduced as the head coach of the Miami Hurricanes.  My first thought was – who really won in this deal?



Mark Richt is also a south Florida boy and alumnus of the U! If there ever was a series of events that were divinely “meant to be” this career move for Mark Richt appears to be an example. So allegiances have come back around for me now as I know I will become a fan of the Hurricanes once again.  I don’t know what will happen the first time Miami and Georgia square off on the gridiron.  God Bless you Brother Mark!


Bradford Bosworth
December,  2015









Majestic Messengers




I do not take much for granted these days and my faith leads me to believe that everything happens for a reason- hot and cold. Everyone that comes onto my path, into my life is here for a reason; to teach or learn from me. I first became aware of this idea after reading M. Scott Peck's writings.

"All human interactions are opportunities to learn or to teach and when you neither learn nor teach you are passing up an opportunity."
"Further Along the Road Less Traveled" M. Scott Peck



When I was a child there was a woman who rivaled my mother for my love and affection. Largely because she almost spent as much time with me. I knew her as "Aunt Betty". Her name was Elizabeth McDowell and she was actually my mother Jeanne's aunt. While growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania my mother Jeanne thought Betty was actually her sister as she did her own mother. That is a story for another time.  Aunt Betty was my Godmother literally and figuratively.  She was gone before I was fourteen years old; brain aneurysm. I have always felt a void inside although it is smaller and smaller by day.

I always take pause when I meet a new person named Betty.  If you are named Betty you will always get from me what one might call the - benefit of the doubt.  I am likely to be more attentive to the learning and or teaching aspect of the interaction.  Now there is a part of me that looks for an added signal or message from my Creator simply as part the residue of my Aunt Betty's expansive Love.





In the past two years another Betty has come into my life. Most every Sunday (when I'm there) at the early worship service at our Smyrna First UMC she sits in the pew just ahead of me.  I look forward to seeing her. She is Holy Spirit filled!  A year and a half ago after noticing in Church my Harley-Davidson wear, she told me she had on her  "bucket list" to take a ride on a Harley.  I knew immediately that I would be the one to take her.  Just in the past week she took that ride and I was at the controls.  It was a great day.  There was a lot of learning and teaching going on.  I was able in some way that only God could comprehend to express love for my precious and long ago departed (from this world) Aunt Betty.



Amen Sisters

Bradford Bosworth
November, 2015


  


Angels of Angola

" Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers......."
Hebrews 13:2


Just this past week I was driving four young German men to the airport after they had been on a two week Harley-Davidson ride around our south land. They had rented their bikes from our EagleRider rental business as many from around the world do. As is my practice, I make a point of asking our customers - after their ride - what was their favorite place or experience. I have become accustomed to hearing New Orleans or The Tail of the Dragon mentioned along with the Smokey Mountains.  On this occasion however, these men could not hide their enthusiasm as they started to tell of a place quite different from the popular riding destinations.


At first I thought I was having hearing difficulties. Their English was broken, but what they were trying to tell me, well it did not make sense.  I asked, "A prison?"  Peter, the one with the best command of the English language said something like "Inglo Prison Rodeo".  It took me a few more queries before I realized they were trying to name a prison north of New Orleans.  So Peter began to describe about this festival atmosphere that included an arts and crafts exposition and a full blown rodeo. I made them spell the name for me -ANGOLA.


I am thinking to myself- how in the world did you learn about this place half way around the world in Germany? Before I could ask they said that back home they saw a television story about this prison and decided that they should go see it.  Then they began to tell me about the crafts show and the amazing wood creations put forth by the inmates.   


These German men could not hide their astonishment about what they had experienced at this the largest maximum security prison in the United States.  The Louisiana State Prison had opened it's doors to the public who had mingled with the inmate population who had welcomed them in with gracious hospitality.  The prisoners were the stars of the rodeo.  They were the artist vendors displaying their crafts for the buying public.  Our Harley renters were glad they bought advanced tickets to the rodeo because the tickets were sold out on site!
Looking at the history of this penitentiary can cause one to shudder. The name Angola designates the African territory the original slaves of this southern state were transported from. It is a secluded place for only the most hardened criminals.  An Arts and Crafts fair at a maximum security prison seems an extreme juxtaposition and even more so when the vendors are wearing stripes!  Then I started seeing the expressions on these men's faces.  My German friends said that the gates of Angola were open for this event and the inmates as well as their guests were free to roam and mingle together.  These men for a day were free. They were free to live life to the brim.  I cannot help but believe that for one day - in this unique celebratory environment - these artists and rough rider men were guests not hosts.  It was these four young German men and attending public showing the hospitality to angels.



Amen Brothers

Bradford Bosworth
October, 2015

American Treasure

Come Forth O' Common Spark
Lately in my job I have had ample opportunities to converse with folks from foreign countries. It is peak season for motorcycle riding and our rental business here in Marietta, Georgia is booming. We have customers from around the world come through our Harley-Davidson dealership who want to experience the spectacular scenery in the Appalachian Mountains just a few hours north. Atlanta is home to a modern and highly accessible international airport and our South is home to some great cultural cities. There are some enterprising travel agencies and tour operators that have fashioned tours around the unique musical genres of our adjacent geography: Nashville/ Country Music; Memphis/Blues/ and New Orleans/Jazz.

On occassion I am shuttling these travelors back and forth to the airport and during these periods I have learned that the world knows full well what is happening with our country. Just recently I had a German gentleman tell me that Boubon Street did not live up to it's heritage and the origins of the jazz culture which helped make it world famous. Instead,  he said that it was nothing more than a bunch of drunk kids and off-beat urban rock music. I could not avoid telling him that indeed our country is losing a hold on the historic culture of our American Exceptionalism that is the cornerstone of this democratic republic.

I have a great affection for the music of a man who I consider an American Treasure, Aaron Copland. There is a great debate occuring now in our country about immigration. Not sure how important the topic? Take a look into the lineage of Mr. Copland -who is arguably the original and most quintessential American classical composer- and you will certainly have a clearer view of how critcal the subject of this debate is!  Do you want to find support for the argument that Judeo-Christian principals are the foundation for our country and culture? Look to Mr. Copland's music. It is the Spirit of America embodied in his music "Fanfare for the Common Man":

If you want to find some truth about our exceptional American journey, take a few minutes to learn about this man and his musical accomplishments. Better yet, have a seat, put the head phones on, sit back, meditate, pray....listen to the divinity within the notes of his "Appalachian Spring" - full of grace and glory.


 Amen Brother Copland
Bradford Bosworth
October 2015

 




Bright Morning Star

The Certainty of Emmanuel
 
 
In the early morning hours when quiet and stillness are at the peak capacity in the world I seek my connection with the Source.  Often it is my only time of the day where I can find my center, the Peace in me at the core.  I have various tools for which I use routinely to help me gain perspective on the Truth. I am often reminded of who Brad is.
 
My morning spiritual tool box includes three different translations of the "Word of God" (Bible/Good Book), "Alcoholics Anonymous" (Big Book), "The Upper Room" and "Disciplines" daily devotionals. Nine out of ten days this is how I start.  I have learned that if I begin my day this way I will  have a better chance of being the person my Creator wants me to be; of being more aligned with what his will is for me.
 
One of my morning meditational practices is walking outside at dawn to look around and experience the world as it's activities begin to fill the ears with sounds and eyes with movement.  I will always look to the eastern horizon to fix my eyes on a bright star. It is the brightest in the morning of all the stars! There is no missing it on a clear morning. This beacon shines so that as the sun begins to rise and it's light washes out all the others in the sky, there is only One remaining!
 
 
 
 
Through the course of a year this bright light appears in different positions on the eastern horizon. With our time changes here on the east coast, you know - spring forward and fall back - I have to search longer to find it. Sometimes I cannot find it all. This past week we have been covered with a consistent cloud layer and much rain and I have not been able to put my eyes on this constant companion of ours. As a matter of fact I have not gone out in the morning much for the past week.
 
 
 
 
The world calls this star a planet and has named it Venus. I do not believe it is a coincidence that Venus was the Greek goddess of Love.  So I will be grateful that Love is with us always and constantly. Lord knows the world needs it!
 
 
"I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star."
Revelation 22:16 (nkjv)

 
Amen
 
Bradford Bosworth
September, 2015




Our Vital Spirit



"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound but you cannot tell where it comes from, or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the spirit."

John 3:8


My simple soul longs for a simpler time. Every time I sign up for a new service or software application I have to create a new password. I need a password to find my password list. My electronic devices have shorter and shorter lifespans. The update pop-up pops-up with increased frequency.

I watch "American Pickers" because it leads me to glimpses of those simpler times. I am drawn to life's antiquities for they are where the treasure of my simple memories lie in a warm soft place. The basic truths contained in these memories still connects deep down and touches the Spirit within.

Recently I was strolling through the toiletries aisle at my local grocery store. A product on the shelf caught my eye and gave me pause. At first I thought that this particular shelf had been overlooked in restocking efforts. This seemingly forgotten section of display real estate must have been caught in a time warp. There rested a single bottle of Vitalis men's hair tonic. This should have been a facing that included Dapper Dan and Butch Wax adjacent to this relic of men's grooming!


Why would this isolated relic from the past grab me to the point of taking a picture with my cell phone? Perhaps I did not believe my eyes. Why - if I had a picture to show- people would actually believe me when I told them what I had recently discovered in a Publix of all places. How is it that this simple chance encounter with an inanimate object would have me gathered up in the mystique of my memory?



The first thing I did when I decided to share the picture was to look for some kind of sign, a message in the name itself, Vitalis. Of course, when beginning this search on my antiquated laptop, I received the message that my browser needed updating...go figure. When googled, the word Vitalis brought up the word Vitalism. What I found was that "Vitalism" is an obsolete scientific doctrine. I was not aware that a scientific doctrine could become obsolete? Then again I am not an academic either. I will let the reader see for themselves:

Vitalism is an obsolete scientific doctrine that "living organisms are fundamentally different from non-living entities because they contain some non-physical element or are governed by different principles than are inanimate things".[1] a Where vitalism explicitly invokes a vital principle, that element is often referred to as the "vital spark", "energy" or "élan vital", which some equate with the soul.

When I further looked for clarification of that phrase: obsolete scientific doctrine, I found the descriptors: scientific consensus and mainstream scientific acceptance. Can anyone say global warming? Then it occurred to me that what we are talking about here is the same thing as conventional wisdom!  God forbid, that the belief in the concept of the soul travel the same road as the idea of vitalism!  All right, so I will remove the letter -m- and voila...we are back to our original word topic VITALIS... whew!  I think I will try to avoid wikipedia for awhile.

One thing I am sure of is the existence of the soul. I have a soul. It is my vital spirit within and when I connect best with fellow humans it is at the level of our souls. That spirit is what we all have in exact and absolute common.  What is different about us is how we are packaged; how our souls are manifest in this material world.

Last evening my friend Donna and I were enjoying a meal outside one of our favorite eateries here in Smyrna, Georgia. I saw her look up and behind me recognizing a familiar face. She immediately arose and went to this passerby calling him by name, "Michael"!  This was, I could sense, a connection on the level of the soul. Michael is a close friend with Donna's daughter. They were high school classmates many years earlier.  I could clearly see that "vital spark" of this young man as I got up to introduce myself and shake his hand.  I had never known of or heard his story. Here it is:

 



I had started writing this piece a couple days earlier and I got stuck. I was not sure where it was going. After hearing about this young man from my fiend Donna I knew it was not a coincidence that our paths crossed last night. There are no coincidences.  It is my conviction that one of the reasons Christ came into the world was to facilitate mankind's awakening to it's collective soul.  The Holy Spirit allows us to comprehend who we are.

 
 

I believe there is a time in our youth where we are more in touch with our spirit.  Then the world began telling me who I should be and I started listening. Conventional wisdom pointed me to how I should act and painted for me what my picture of success should look like. These relics of the past sometimes help connect me to those moments when I could more clearly hear that still small voice within.

 
" 'The Spirit of Truth' the world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him for he lives with you and will be in you."
John 14:17
 

Thanks brother Michael.
Amen

Bradford Bosworth
September 2015













Give by Receiving

 
Hope Lives
 
 
In late winter 2011 I was serving as a member of the support team for North Georgia Walk to Emmaus Men's #146.  It was my first experience as a servant on a Walk as I had been a pilgrim on Men's #144 in October just a few months earlier. I was a rookie finding my way in a new role.
 
In our preparations leading up to the Walk I heard one of the team leaders speak of Christian Action and in his talk he described a book he had read called "90 Minutes in Heaven".  This man, an executive with Turner Broadcasting Sports in Atlanta, talked about the impact of this book in his own life but more importantly how- as a gift- he used it as a healing tool for a friend who had just lost a loved one.  His story moved me to go out and buy the book.
 
Sometime that spring I read the book. What I remember most clearly even after almost five years was that the message of the book to me was not "This is what heaven is like!".  Instead, what we can do here and now to make this life more like heaven? The answer for me was: By learning how to forgive myself and allowing those who love me to show their acts of Love. It is by receiving that we also give.  And these acts create the heavenly environment for all those involved.
 
 

 
Two years pass and I am on the phone with my brother Hal and - as we so often do - we are talking about my niece Kate and her latest professional ventures and he tells me that she and her fiance Michael Polish are negotiating for the film rights to this book titled "90 Minutes in Heaven." My ears perked up as Hal went on to say that it would be the couple's biggest project of their film careers.
 
Kate and Michael's wedding was set for later that year over Labor Day weekend 2013 in Montana.
Leading up to the wedding I would read the book again. When the wedding rolled around the film rights deal would be completed and there was talk of filming right here in Atlanta. While in Montana and to my disappointment, I was told that it looked like the movie would be made in Utah.
The weekend and wedding was very graceful!
 
I remember flying home feeling that the wedding event would be my last connection to "90 Minutes in Heaven". I did pray for God's Will be done in regards to the film. After another year passing and on the phone with Hal again, I learned that the movie would be filmed in Atlanta in January and February of this year. Praise God! This time I went out and bought two copies of the book for my daughters Maggie and Jeanne.  During the time of the production they would get to spend a great lunch afternoon with cousin Kate which warmed my heart.
 
Usually from the time production wraps to the time the movie arrives in theaters is a longer period -maybe a year or longer. "90 Minutes in Heaven" has taken about six months. This decision was driven by a calling to release the film on 9/11!  It is a tender time for our country.  It is a time where many of us need some hope in our lives. This movie will show many that still Hope Lives!
 
 

 
On Tuesday, September 1st I was able to attend the World Premier of "90 Minutes in Heaven" at the Fox Theater in Atlanta with family and friends.  What a blessed experience it was.  I have come to expect that many times when Hollywood produces a film from a book with religious connotations - particularly a Christian message - they will stray from the essence of the original story. That is not the case with this movie.  It is true to the original book.
 
Post Script: Over the years since that Men's Walk #146 I have served on a handful of Walks and have never seen that Turner Broadcasting executive again. This May I got a call to serve on the July Men's #172 and lo and behold who was on that team? The man who introduced me to "90 Minutes in Heaven".
 
Amen Brother
 
Bradford Bosworth
September, 2015
 
 
 


Renovatus Key

Glimpses of Grace


Yesterday, Sunday, September 6, 2015, I was confronted again by one of life's little coincidental moments. These tiny miracles or glimpses of God's Grace are occuring for me with increased regularity either in my own experience or of those others who are witnessing about it to me.

First I should provide some background orientation. My  youngest daughter Jeanne and I are engaged in a project related to her fund raising efforts to support her Rome, Italy study abroad program.
(See: http://www.gofundme.com/x58b9ss )

As a result of this effort we have pledged to provide content communication to those "subscribers" with bi-weekly recaps of our Father-Daughter letters. We have named this project, "My Father's Keys". (See: 8/17/15 blog post).

So this past week I received my first letter from Jeanne. If you have donated to Jeanne's GFM page you have received the complete letter with accompanying photos as well as my original letter to her of which she read on the flight over to Italy.  For this expose I am including an excerpt of her letter to me:




Marcella was born in Chile and spent most of her life in Uruguay, yet her family originates from Sicily. Her English is impeccable and her Spanish is even better, both of which she teaches to Italian students here in Rome.

When we met Marcella, we were exploring one of the neighborhood’s supermercatos and she was loading her produce into her car preparing to visit the community pool.  She overhead me attempting to converse with the cashier in Italian and -lit up- when she heard me butchering the local language.  She immediately asked my roommates and I to come and speak to her students in English; then they’ll speak to us in Italian. It is a win-win for everyone!

Marcella offered us a ride back to our apartment and our relief was palpable.  She said she had to rearrange some of her belongings in her backseat so all of us could fit. Then she pulled out in view some of the most detailed printed art I have ever seen.  On top was a sky with a moon and a sun intertwined in an infinity sign above a scale of justice.  My description of this work would weigh poorly on one of those plates.  She talked about how she wanted to sell it but something inside her stopped her.

Marcella said, “Maybe I’m not done with it yet…..or maybe it is not done with me?”  She then began explaining that she was redoing her entire apartment; she looked at me and asked what the word was for taking an old building and changing it. I immediately responded,  “Renovation.”

For the remainder of the ride back she spoke about what the word Renovation meant. It is from the Latin word renovatus: to restore and make new again, to repair. I got Goosebumps, right?  I knew then that Marcella was meant to receive the “Kingdom Key”, the first of my Father’s Keys.
****
I had a glimpse of God's Grace on Sunday morning as I slid into the pew at our Chuch and settling in I focused on the  service program in my hand and the cover art read "God's Restoration Project."  Our associate Pastor Whit Martin's Sermon would be "This Old House."  Even now as I write this piece I am in awe.  I can say just a few short years ago I may not have even noticed and if I did notice I would not have appreciated this message, this communication from the Creator.  The more I notice the more it happens! Oh and did I mention Pastor Whit's Sermon was right on time!
 
 



 
 
The Apostle Peter is at the center of the "My Father's Keys" project with my daugter Jeanne as he is at the center of Rome, Italy.  My second letter to Jeanne has already been sent to her and it has something to do with a walk on the water. Stay tuned!
 
 
 
 
 
Amen Sister
 
Bradford Bosworth
September, 2015




Fried Chicken Agape

Agape, translated as "love: the highest form of love, especially brotherly love, charity; the love of God for man and of man for God." The noun form first occurs in the Septuagint, but the verb form goes as far back as Homer, translated literally as affection, as in "greet with affection" and "show affection for the dead."

There is a fellowship of which I belong. It is called The Walk to Emmaus. It like Church and AA is a big part of my Spiritual program. In the Walk to Emmaus movement Agape plays a big role.  It is through acts of agape that I have experienced the most recognizable manifestation of God's wondrous Grace.




I remember my late mother Jeanne trying to fry chicken for us one time. Being that she was from the north- Pittsburgh, Pa. to be exact- and of direct German decent, she did not have much of a foundation in chicken frying. I remember enjoying the chicken but not that my mother had burns from grease splatter.  I don't remember her cooking fried chicken again. She could however make a mean leg o lamb!


It was during my years in high school and college in the deep south that I learned what an art it was to be able to make good authentic southern fried chicken.  I've been at the table with families when the matriarch has fried chicken for dinner and it was a near religious experience for this younger man. It is through Walk to Emmaus that I learned these were experiences of God's "Prevenient" Grace.

There is this authentic "Southern" lady I know who, reputation has it, makes awesome fried chicken.  As her kids have grown and moved away from the stove, so to speak, she will make fried chicken on special occasions and that is when I know her Agape is flowing mightily!

Amen Sister

Bradford Bosworth
August 2015

My Father's Keys


Somewhere around 2006 I became interested in antique keys. Skeleton keys first attracted me and I am not sure how I was drawn except that now I believe it was my divine nature’s calling. If you ever hold one of these keys in your hand, it has a mystic quality and raises questions. How old, how many hands touched, how far has it come? These are the questions that flow and each key stands alone unique in its own character.

 

One day I decided to google St. Peter’s Keys because I always had this concept of him standing by the Pearly Gates with keys. I was lead to some great insights and understandings about Rome (Italy) and the how the design of St. Peter’s Basilica came to be shaped like a key. But most of all I was captured by the scripture that is the root of all connection between the apostle Peter and keys. The words are spoken by Jesus to Peter as told in the Gospel of Mathew.

 

Mathew 16:19.

 

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth is already bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth is already loosed in heaven.”

 

It was not long until I was making ceiling & lamp fan pulls with keys I bought through auction on Ebay. I had them for sale in a local gift store in Smyrna, Ga. (The Nest), where I live and also in my Ebay store (The Jazzman’s Joint). But mostly I gave them as gifts. Each would come with a card that contained the Gospel scripture.

 

 

 

Now my youngest daughter Jeanne is about to travel to Rome in a study abroad program. She is taking eight of these Lamp/Fan pulls with her. Every two weeks while she is in Italy she will use a piece of scripture from the Holy Bible picked by her earthly father and ask for guidance from her Heavenly Father as how to and who to give it away.  Jeanne will then write a letter to “Dad” about her experiences giving the “Kingdom Key” away.

 

I will write about this experience as well as my challenge to quell fears about my daughter being so far away and out of my control and about how it is testing my faith.

No Greater Guilt or Shame

Origin of name for Peter's Promise Ministry

When reading the Gospels with a focus on the Apostle Peter we can learn a few things about ourselves. Peter whose name was really Simon was called Peter by Jesus.  Have we not had times in our lives when people - usually those close to us or ones to whom we’ve looked up to - have dubbed us by a different “nickname”?  The moniker comes from love as a term of endearment and it sticks. Perhaps this was the case with Jesus and Simon, who Jesus called Peter. (Mark 3:16)

Do we not all yearn to be chosen, or even better to be the first chosen?  Peter was of the first disciples to be invited by Jesus.  This young fisherman was so impressed by the carpenter calling that he just dropped his nets and followed Jesus right along. Into our lives some have come and we have felt that person is our “ticket”, or the key to our success and we have latched on with hope and anticipation. So Jesus was with Peter.  (Mathew 4:18-20 &10:2)

And even as we have experienced God’s prevenient Grace and witnessed small miracles with these people who may be parents, siblings or teachers, our worldly flaws cause us to miss our mark, to lose our trust and falter as friends, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters.  We see this with Peter as he begins moving toward Jesus on the water, winds of doubt take over and Peter starts sinking until he reaches out his hand. (Mathew 14:27-32).

Peter had a back stage pass, so to speak, for the greatest show ever on earth. He was hand picked by Jesus to go on a hike where he would meet God, Moses and Elijah! Peter was so excited after this trip he wanted to build shelters for them and stay on that mountain forever. (Luke 9:28-36).

Jesus knew the day would come when this disciple of whom he was so fond would falter in a way that would cause Peter a level of shame and guilt that would be hard to comprehend. And Jesus told Peter so. In spite of all Peter had experienced he could not believe Jesus (John 13:36-38).

And Peter with his best intentions to stand by Jesus and be close to help after Jesus was arrested was so paralyzed by fear that he lied about knowing Jesus and soon thereafter his Lord was beaten unmercifully and spat upon. Jesus made eye contact with Peter and the rooster crowed three times.  Peter wept bitterly. (Luke 22:54-65).

A stronger message to Peter comes from his Lord in the account of resurrection morning as told in Mark’s Gospel chapter 16.  In this account the three women are surprised when they get to the tomb and the huge boulder has already been rolled away. As they enter there is a man in a white robe sitting to the right side of where Jesus’s body had been laid. And the man in a white robe we believe is an Angel of the Lord and he says to the ladies that they are to tell the disciples and Peter (especially Peter) Its Okay! The Lord is risen. He is alive. (Mark 16:1-8).

This is for us Peter’s Promise: “It’s Okay”.  No matter the transgression we are redeemed because Jesus Lives. Or to quote a passage from another divinely inspired book. “No matter how far down the scale we’ve gone we will see how our experience can benefit others. (The Big Book: Into Action, Pg 84.)
 
St. Peter became better and went into action and look what he accomplished:
 
 

Staying in the Victory Lane Moment

Vivid Memories

As a recent college graduate in 1975 fresh with a degree in Journalism and a Radio-TV-Film major, I took my first job at WESH-TV in Daytona Beach, Fla. This would start a journey that would intertwine with Motor Racing and last a good ten years. Very early on I was introduced to Victory Lane. Now I had heard of and seen Victory Lane celebrations through the televised experience and also viewed one from the stands at Churchill Downs - the 1969 Kentucky Derby.  I had never been inside or participated in the actual celebratory moment.

In 1976 I was assigned to cover the Daytona 500 Victory Lane celebration as a cameraman for the TV station. This task called for me to cover turns three and four inside the track during the race and then with thirty or so laps to finish, move and set up tripod and mounted Frzzolini 16mm inside Victory Lane. As it turns out this Daytona 500 became the most exciting finish in its history at the time. The perspective from Victory Lane of the finish was like this: Richard Petty and David Pearson were battling it out on the last lap. The only indication of what was happening that I had from where I stood was watching the crowds in the front stretch stands. They were delirious on their feet as the two cars sped down the backstretch. All of a sudden the screams got louder and fingers were pointing toward turn four. The next thing I know is, I see smoke and dirt flying and two cars spinning down the frontstretch with one in the grass.

David Pearson had the presence of mind to throw his Ford back in gear and cross the finish line before Richard Petty could get his Dodge back rolling.  A few minutes later Pearson's crumpled Purolator Ford was pushed into Victory Lane by his elated crew and my camera was rolling!

See video:


http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=1976+daytona+500&FORM=VIRE1#view=detail&mid=CFB3227010E6742EB25CCFB3227010E6742EB25C

To try to adequately describe the actual experience is a tall task. Little did I know at the time that a short two years later I would experience Victory Lane on a whole new level. Stay Tuned.

Bradfor Bosworth
June, 2015

Enter Through the Narrow Gate


Aphrodite with Blonde Hair

 

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it.” Mathew 7:13-14

 

Just in the past few years I have learned there is a road - A Pathway to God.

The great medicine men and tribal spirituals in Native American culture knew it as the “Red Road”. We all have access to it. By it we may return to our source.  It is the center - the one core - common among us all and all of us. Biblically we can find it through the Son of Man.


In these same past few years I have come to embrace my purpose here in this world as one in which I am to pursue – seek first – growing my relationship with my creator. It is a lifelong effort not resting until I draw my last breath. That is my supreme purpose here.

 

 

 

This last twelve months I have learned there is a way to put a shine on, embellish- to sanctify – that purpose. It is to share intimately in the pursuit of the Father with another person. For me it is a woman, Aphrodite with blond hair and a voice that is music from the harp and heart.  The Kingdom of God arrives holding hands in Church. No shared meal passes without the prayer of Grace still holding hands. The sharing of Devotions and Faith bear out  “Where two or more are gathered there so shall I be.” (Mathew 18:20)

 

It has been a marvelous and majestic ride both literally and figuratively. Yahweh may it be so forever as your awesome Love is.

 
Bradford Bosworth
June 2015

Blowing Bubbles

The Spirit Blows in.

Wearing red to Church this Sunday was how many Christians participated in the celebration of Pentecost. In the message of Christ this is when the Holy Spirit showed up and showed up big time.
It is told in the New Testament book Acts and specifically in Chapter 2. At our Church Sunday, Associate Pastor Barbara Hatchell preached her sermon "A Mighty Wind Blows". It was a moving message as the Spirit moves but more so because Barara will be retiring in a few weeks.  Deeply Loved as she is by so many it is a sad transition at the same time as it is a happy occassion.

During Children's Moments Pastor Barbera gathered the children and then blew bubbles with them to help illustrate and teach about the Holy Spirit and how it comes as if by a breath from God.

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear it's sounds, but cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the spirit."  John 3:8



And thought I would share some more about all things bubbles:


                                          Bubble Bath
 
                                    Drawing the hot water
As frothy peaks and valleys
Sway with the waves
 then two bodies sink
bent knees and tangled legs
resting in the warmth
all inhibitions melting away.
 
A long lovely day ending
With two glistening smiles
Caressing joviality and
Feminine fragrance flowing
Above and below the surface.
 
Gently rocking emotion swells
Across the boundaries diminishing
As love in proper practice
Spills over into the
Cracks and crevices of
Our vulnerabilities
And makes an indelible mark
On our soul.
 

Bradford Bosworth

May 2015
 
 
 
 
 


Every Passing Season

The Blind Barber, Gatekeeper Guide and "Miss Evie"

We travel through this world and along the journey we have so many encounters with others over a lifetime the faces blur. The voices fade. If our eyes are open and we are aware and awakened we will begin to notice the ones our Creator places in our path as guides and teachers. I have come to believe we can learn from all who we meet if our hearts are open and sprinkled with the fertile water of willingness.

In the recent years I have had the blessed occasions of exchange with three folks who in the past few weeks have found their ageing bodies failing them. The past two days off have found me visiting my next door neighbor, "Miss Evie" in her - end of days- at Tranquility Cobb Hospice. A long life at 82 years is wearing on for her. Over the past couple years we have had nice visits and I have learned of her family. She loves freshly grilled cheeseburgers. And although pizza was not kind to her frail digestive track her cravings would have her order delivery.  I would always get a call that she could not finish it and needed me to help.

During these times I learned about her children. At the Hospice yesterday I met the whole group of siblings.  We all held hands and prayed. God Bless you "Miss Evie".

Today I traveled to Piedmont Hospital to visit my friend Warren and his wife and caretaker Brenda.
Warren has been in a struggle for almost six months. His bone skeleture is failing his body. Bones are braking and it is immobilizing and painful. Warren was my first Sponsor into a fellowship of broken men.  On my journey of spiritual healing he has been the Gatekeeper Guide during the initial -feeling my way - stages of growth.  Since giving is never a one way process what I received from him I was able to return this morning - at least a little bit anyway.



I mentioned to Brenda and Warren that I was going to get my haircut by The Blind Barber and they knew exactly who I was talking about. Remarkably Brenda's late father used to get his hair cut by Max. Of course Blind is an exaggeration but not much.  I could not help but go to Max for my hair cut. His small Smyrna, Georgia shop is the classic Barber Shop.  From the first time going there I knew it was a dangered species. Three chairs only one of which was used: Max's chair. This gentle little man is the Rockwellesque picture of humble, meek and God fearing.  He would cut your hair for ten dollars. No plastic and if you did not have the cash well just pay him the next time you are in.




These virtues and values of Americana are slowly fading out of season.  Each instance of loss is a sobering trial of spiritual strength to the ones who wonder if the underlying truths and values will spring forth and manifest again. But by Faith we know: "To Everything there is a Season......." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Bradford Bosworth
May 2015

Five Finger Friends

Today was a glorious day. Cool, crisp, breezy and the cloudless blue sky made for sunbeams so sharp all shadows had distinctly defined edges. It was an edgy day. A great day for a Harley ride along the Chattahoochee. And even better I got to catch up with two of my Five Finger Friends. First stop in Alpharetta to visit with Michael and Joyce whose friendship goes back to my first job out of college at WESH-TV in Daytona Beach, Florida. Michael was a cameraman at the station and helped me get started in the business. I a fresh faced kid, and he a Vietnam Vet making his way in the business world.  It was fourty years ago we met.  Although it has been a few years since we have seen each other or even talked.  No matter, it seemed like yesterday. That is the way it is with Five Finger Friends. I love you Michael.


Then it was off to Buckhead to meet up with a group of folks gathering at the trendy Hal's On Old Ivey. This group was coming together to celebrate the retirement of my friend John, Faith partner and former boss who I worked for and with over 15 years. Our friendship goes back more than 25 years and has grown since I left the employ of the same company he is now retiring from.  It is a beverage alcohol distributing company with strong Atlanta roots.  I am most happy for John as I believe his life will now begin to open up in new and exciting ways! I love you John.


 
Five Finger Friends
 
Your call is never screened
No time of the day
Is unusual
Days, weeks, years
Does not matter how long,
The place in the heart is the same
 
In a lifetime this friendship
this closeness, the respect, the love
Comes from within
If by divine appointment
Your lives intersected at
The most propitious moment
Sometimes more than once
Because we  were not awake
Enough, enough
How many will we have?
The neon lights up:
TRUE FRIEND
How many in a lifetime?
We can count them on one hand!
 
Bradford Bosworth
April 2015
 


A Carnivore's Paradise

  (Writer’s Note: In my upcoming book “ Angel Food Cake” A Forty Day Devotional for an Upside/Down World, there are stories referencing ange...

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