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When Does a Woman Become a Mother?

December 9, 2022 by Rob Fischer

A woman becomes a mother when she gets pregnant. This is a biological fact. Her hormones, her body, and the baby inside her all testify to the fact that she is a mother incubating a baby inside her.

What is a mother? Consider this poem written by Nikita Gill and published in Woman’s Day.[1]

“Mother”

The water of her womb, your first home

The body she pulled apart to welcome you to the world.

The spirit in you she helped grow with all she knew.

The heart that she gave you when yours fell apart.

You are her soft miracle.

So she gave you her eyes to see the best in the worst.

You carry your mother in your eyes.

Make her proud of all she watches you do.

Mothers represent the epitome of one who loves and cares for her children, willing to sacrifice her personal comfort and needs, even to the point of laying down her life.

So, please explain how abortion fits into the profile of a mother?


[1] https://www.womansday.com/relationships/family-friends/g2316/mothers-day-poems-quotes/?slide=3.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: abortion, baby, mother, womb

Becoming Tarzan! (Chapter One, Part Two)

December 13, 2020 by Rob Fischer

Our Saturday night routine with Tarzan was merely the catalyst for what we played out the rest of the week. On Saturday nights we had observed and studied with our mentor, now we had to discipline ourselves and practice hard to become like him. As protégés of Tarzan there were a number of tarzanian skills and characteristics that we committed to mastering.

One of the basic skills for any would-be apprentice of Tarzan was to perfect his yodel. Now, no one could yodel quite like Johnny Weissmuller, but we practiced intensely nevertheless. On any given day in our neighborhood, the Jacobson’s, Connor’s or Bolen’s could hear the unmistakable call of Tarzan coming from fifty feet up some tree. But as hard as I tried to perfect Tarzan’s yodel, my soprano boy’s voice prevented me from sounding quite like him. In the end I had to satisfy myself with sounding more like Boy, Tarzan’s adopted son, than like Tarzan himself.

Another ability of Tarzan that we all envied was the speed with which he could run barefoot through the jungle. He not only ran fast, but with lighting speed he maneuvered over, under or around anything he encountered on such a jungle run. The large woods that bordered our property served well as a training ground in practicing this skill.

I can still vividly remember preparing mentally for my bare-foot speed runs through the woods. I had to psych myself up because apparently my feet were not as tough as Tarzan’s and I invariably stubbed a toe or stepped on a thorn or sharp stick on my speed runs through the woods. Yet I quietly subjected myself to the pain as a part of becoming like Tarzan. Tarzan was no whiner!

Actually, I loved my speed runs through the woods. There was something very pleasurable about imagining myself as Tarzan while jumping over logs, ducking under branches, and leaping to perch on a stump or boulder. Then I would fill my lungs with air, beat my chest and bellow out a Tarzan yodel that would make cats cower and dogs howl.

One year for my birthday I asked my mom to make me a faux leopard skin swim trunk that I could wear when I was playing Tarzan. She lovingly designed and sewed that leopard skin loin cloth for me. The first time I put it on, I felt more like Tarzan than I’d ever felt before. I knew this would be good! I could’ve sworn that wearing that skin made me jump higher, run faster and be braver!

Once I went for a swim in my leopard skin swim trunk in order to wrestle a make-believe crocodile. I found that when my leopard skin trunks got wet, I looked like a drowned cat and the trunks got so heavy that I was in danger of losing them over my scrawny hips! I struggled to figure out how to categorize these moments of embarrassment into my Tarzan persona. (to be continued…)

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: childhood

Becoming Tarzan

December 8, 2020 by Rob Fischer

Introduction

Having grown up in a semi-rural suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota, I never viewed my childhood as unique or out-of-the-ordinary. But my wife—raised in Chicago—assures me otherwise. Largely because of her laughter and amazement over my childhood escapades and because of her prompting to do so, I’ve agreed to preserve these stories in writing. I hope you find as much enjoyment in reading them as I did living them!

Ninety percent of what I’ve put down in the following chapters actually happened. Another five percent is educated guess because I and my siblings can no longer remember the details. And literary embellishment accounts for the final five percent. I’ll let you be the judge as to which is which.

Becoming Tarzan! (Chapter One, Part One)

My brothers and I never had much time for television, other than Gilligan’s Island and Hogan’s Heroes. But late every Saturday evening the excitement among my brothers and me would build until at 10 pm Tarzan appeared on the screen! Never mind that the whole series was in black and white and that our TV screen measured only 13 inches!

We had developed quite a family tradition around Tarzan. My dad, the consummate night owl, had no problem with letting us stay up until midnight on Saturday nights—especially when it revolved around such a great athlete as Johnny Weissmuller! Johnny Weissmuller, the world-class swimmer and gymnast, played Tarzan like no other.

Leading up to Tarzan’s performance each Saturday night, we followed a well-established ritual. First, we all got into our pajamas, or if it was summer, we just stripped to our underwear. (We liked watching Tarzan in our underwear because it helped us identify better with his persona.)

Then we’d herd into the kitchen where we put a large stainless-steel pot on the stove, poured a small pool of oil into it and turned on the burner. When the oil was hot, we sprinkled in enough popcorn to just cover the bottom one layer deep. We’d cover the pot and listen for the first pop. As soon as the popcorn began to pop, we’d shake the pan vigorously back and forth over the burner to prevent the kernels from burning.

The job of shaking the pan was an honorable one that was bestowed on us like a rite of passage once we were deemed responsible. But letting the popcorn burn just once meant stepping down until we could handle the responsibility for sure.

When the popcorn stopped popping, we took it off the heat and melted butter in another small pan. We poured the melted butter generously over the popcorn and added salt. We always made enough popcorn to fill several large mixing bowls. This practice filled the house with the tantalizing aroma of fresh popped corn and heralded the coming of Tarzan.

With the popcorn ready, we’d clear the living room floor and pull in all the dining room chairs. Dad showed us that if we tipped them over, we could sit on the floor using the chair back as a recliner. This setup offered the perfect viewing position for watching Tarzan until the action grew tense. Then, during particularly energy-packed scenes my brothers and I would jump to our feet and participate in what was happening on the screen. How can a kid sit still when being charged by a rhino or wrestling a crocodile!?

In these highly charged scenes our imagination got the best of us as we jerked and punched and swung and kicked and grunted. (In fact, I’ve considered marketing the old Tarzan movies as workout videos.) My brothers and I would finish a thrilling scene like that drenched in sweat and red all over.

Sometimes our kicks and punches got a little too wild and we found we had inadvertently clocked one of our brothers. When that happened, Dad told us to settle down and sit back on the floor. We forgave each other these stray punches and kicks because we knew we hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. We simply accepted these minor injuries as part of the territory of becoming like Tarzan and Tarzan was tough. (To be continued…)

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Why?

February 7, 2019 by Rob Fischer

My death had come unexpectedly. True, I was in my late 60s, but I had been healthy—even an endurance athlete. But my time had come.

Now, I stood in a place so wonderfully beautiful that it eclipsed any mountain scene I had ever beheld. In fact, it surpassed anything I could have imagined! And I was overwhelmed with the presence of love, peace, and joy beyond description that permeated this intensely beautiful place.

And yet, my body that I thought had been so strong and virile was now gone and seemed impossibly frail and transient by comparison with what I now felt. I can’t explain it in earthly terms where we’re so bound and limited by the physical, but I now had no tangible body. My soul had been freed from that fragile, confining shell.

How I could now see, hear, smell, taste and feel, I cannot explain. I only know that every sensual perception was clearer, sharper, purer than I’d ever dreamed possible.

Before me I saw a vast sea of souls. Countless faces from every race. What did these bodiless souls look like? How can I describe the unseen to the seeing? But they were there, nonetheless. They too were in the same state as I. But despite the peace and serenity that enveloped them, they all had a simple question on their lips.

In an instant, I looked out over this innumerable multitude of souls and perceived the same voiceless question forming on every mouth, “Why?”

Ever so gradually, their question took on the sound of a faint whisper, “Why?”

Their question was not framed in accusing tones, nor was it merely inquisitive. I would describe it more in terms of pity, a deep concern for others. Their question was genuine and expressed in love, but also in humble inability to grasp, “Why?”

What had begun as a mere whisper, now grew in volume and intensity. Their question was not a shout. But voiced in unison by such a vast multitude, it now drowned out any other sound.

Since my arrival, I had been overwhelmed by the presence of the One who had called me here, the Life-Giver. It was from Him that this palpable feeling of love, joy and peace emanated. It was also to Him that these innumerable souls directed their question, “Why?”

With indescribable love and tenderness, He raised a hand, and all grew silent, eyes fixed on Him, the Life-Giver. We anticipated His response, but He paused poignantly and heaved a great sigh. There was inexpressible sadness in His eyes. Then, He spoke…

“Why? Because they were deceived with a great deception. There was no limit to the deception. At different times and in different cultures it took on various forms. But it was deception all the same.

“Some were truly naïve. They were lied to. Those who were greedy for money, or even reasoned that they were serving mankind, told them that you were only tissue. And while they knew the truth, they persisted in their lie to protect the lie. And they became slaves to their deception.

“In ancient times and in dark corners of the world, some actually thought they were serving Me when they sacrificed you. My heart breaks for them. Had they only known Me, the Life-Giver! Why would they ever think I would demand such a sacrifice? Nothing so gruesome, so evil ever even entered my mind!

“And there were those who were truly evil. They saw themselves as superior to all other races and sought to eradicate what they deemed the ‘lesser’ races. Their actions were cruel and calculated. They showed no mercy.

“Many others would not restrain their passions. Their lack of restraint put them into circumstances that they deemed insurmountable. Your presence here now is testimony to their hopelessness and deception. If only they had trusted Me instead!

“Whole peoples honed and developed their deception in cunning ways, even creating laws to perpetuate their deception. Along with these laws came euphemistic descriptions to desensitize the masses. They used words like ‘rights,’ ‘spacing their children,’ ‘unwanted,’ ‘terminate,’ and ‘choice,’ to soften and cloak the deception and the horrors of reality.

“They dehumanized you by stripping you of your personhood. They took the gift of life and degraded and demeaned it. They have soiled and perverted all that I value and stand for. My heart breaks for what they did to you and it continues to ache for those who continue in their deception.

“And if that weren’t enough, many who sent you here prematurely have suffered inestimable guilt, shame, and pain. In their hopelessness, they live their lives in misery. But their shame is so profound that it has prevented them from speaking up and exposing the deception. So, on it goes.

“If they only knew that I loathe to be their Judge, but long to be their Advocate!

“Some have abandoned the deception, repented from their evil deeds and have turned to Me. They have experienced that My grace, mercy and forgiveness are thorough and without hint of accusation. I’ve washed them clean from the innocent blood they spilt.

“But sadly, those who insist on continuing in their deception, leave Me no alternative. Justice will be served. Despite what they believe, there will be a final judgment and I will hold them accountable for their deeds.”

Finally, with another monumental sigh, the Life-Giver groaned, “If only they would turn to Me, who gave them life that they may live in the Light. But alas, they continue in their deception and have chosen darkness and death instead of light and life.”

“My children, that is why.”

Rob Fischer

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Worship – The Highest Expression of Relationship

January 13, 2018 by Rob Fischer

Worship of God is the highest expression of relationship mankind is capable of. No earthly experience is more euphoric, more intimate and more fulfilling than the act of worshiping God. In worshiping God, we draw attention to and revel in His perfect, holy, awesome Person. In view of His infinite greatness and everlasting love toward us, our only right response is one of humility, brokenness, neediness, overwhelming gratitude, and praise—all expressions of worship.

A mere glimpse of God’s great love for us buckles our knees before Him in profound thanksgiving and praise! Before His glory, we are stripped of all pretense and worthiness. He sees right through us and knows our secret thoughts and passions. We are laid bare—naked and exposed before Him. Yet, God’s infinite love, joy and peace overcome our fear of exposure, and we find safety, acceptance and warm embrace in His presence through His Son, Jesus Christ. In His care we enjoy release and relief from all guilt and shame.

Worship represents that profound interaction that is both unique and fundamental to a relationship between a human being and God. In no other earthly relationships is worship a proper response for people. Worship belongs solely to God.

Our ability to worship God begins for us when He pursues us and we respond to His urgings to reconcile with Him through Christ. When we accept His free gift of forgiveness and reconciliation, He begins to transform us. We now possess a new desire to please Him in all things, to stay close to Him and to be like Him. We begin learning how to relate to and communicate with Him. This happy process will continue all our lives until we go to be with Him.

Rightly understood, worship is not an isolated event, but a lifestyle. When we find both our routine and ultimate satisfactions met in Him, we experience joy beyond compare. Drawing near to Him in worship, we invite Him to expose and purify us from all that is contrary to His nature. In His presence, we cannot remain unchanged! True worship of God will transform us to be more like Christ.

Worship of God in chorus with others pleases and glorifies God. The Psalmist urges, “Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His name together.” (Psalm 34:3) And, “Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker.” (Psalm 95:6) And, “Worship the Lord with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs.” (Psalm 100:2) And, “With my mouth I will greatly extol the Lord; in the great throng of worshipers I will praise Him.” (Psalm 109:30)

Worshiping the Lord with others is the difference between shooting baskets by oneself and playing basketball on a team. Others’ enjoyment of God increases our enjoyment of Him. Our awe of Him is ratcheted up. The thrill of worshiping our God is contagious and prompts more worship. And because each follower of Christ brings God’s presence with them to worship, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

But many Christians do not experience what we’ve described above. Their relationship with God has become dysfunctional, stale and stagnant. There are a host of reasons for this, all of them lying at our feet, for God does not change. Some who call themselves Christians have never actually entered into a relationship with God at all. Others found the pull of other “gods” too enticing and strong, so they pursue the gods of money, fame, achievement or pleasure. And there are those who think so poorly of themselves and so mistrusting of God that they fail to grasp the genuineness of His love, forgiveness and acceptance.

I said earlier that worship is unique and fundamental to our relationship with God. Yet worship contains relational skills and principles similar to those found in other human relationships. As with any relationship, we must learn and practice these relational skills and principles in order to build a strong, healthy relationship with God.

Then, with Paul, we’ll cry out in unison:

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!
Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?
Who has ever given to God, that God should repay them?
For from him and through him and for him are all things. T
o him be the glory forever! Amen. (Romans 11:33-37 NIV)

 

©2018 Rob Fischer

Filed Under: Uncategorized

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