Have you ever felt like your brain is turning into a scrambled egg?

Or had a crazy thought and wondered just where in the world it came from? Have you ever had so many thoughts running through your mind at once that it felt like your brain would explode?

You're not alone! This morning my brain felt like a whole frying pan full of scrambled eggs. On toast.

Why? Why does my brain think for itself and leave me in the grease?

Thoughts are the very core of our lives. Properly managed, thinking is a beautiful thing. Left alone, it can become an out of control locomotive, plowing through the plains of the mind and wreaking havoc on the cities of the soul.

Maybe it was that exam in school, the performance review at work or the drama of relationships that set it off, but whatever the situation may be, nearly all of us have experienced times of mental overload.

The human brain is a remarkable organ. It's highly organic, yet intricately electronic and deeply spiritual. It controls, but can be controlled. It creates, but can be created. It's the greatest supercomputer of all time and still baffles science by it's complexity and resilience. Recent discoveries show that it has enough memory capacity to hold over 3 million years of life information.

The mind is, in reality, beautifully dangerous.


Recently I've been facing some odd health issues that have both the doctor and me stumped. No one can seem to figure out what's wrong. The medical profession thinks more tests and prescription drugs are the answer for nearly everything, but I disagree on this one.

After talking with some people who are experts on my symptoms and reading some books on the subject, a grease bubble has formed amidst the pan of scrambled eggs in my head: Something's the matter with my mind!

"Oh dear, break out the straight jacket! We have a loon on the loose!" you say. Whoa... hold on, not so fast!

There's probably something wrong with YOUR mind too.

As outlandish as it sounds, it's really quite simple: we're not thinking about thinking. Your brain is like a juicer, it spits out whatever you put into it; and if you don't direct your thoughts, your thoughts will direct you. If you don't think about what thoughts you're going to have, your brain will easily draw from it's deep well of memories and provide it's own twisted narrative to fill that empty space.

(This explains how some folks think we can spend our way out of an economic recession...)

Those who walk with God and have their spirits awakened to His Spirit have a distinct advantage in directing their thoughts in a positive direction. If we allow ourselves to be ruled by our spirit instead of our flesh or our mind, our mind is put in it's proper place as a processor of information and not a generator of it.

If then we allow God, through our spirits, to inspire our thought processes, gone will be the scrambled feelings and out of control thoughts. Instead there comes a certain peace and joy that carries with it a solid and sound thought process!

How do I know this? Because I'm experiencing it first hand: I'm winning the battle with fear / depression and hence the battle for my health- WITHOUT drugs. And so can you.

Western culture worships a beautiful mind. We venerate knowledge. But our over-reliance on higher education has lowered our natural intelligence to the level of zombies that take as gospel whatever the great minds of our day say is truth.

The truth is there is a difference between knowledge and knowing. It's one thing to have knowledge about something, quite another to understand it, to KNOW it.

Our incessant grasp for knowledge leaves us feeling empty and meaningless. We can never be at rest with knowledge because there's no telling when the edu-gods will come up with some new "truth" that make our position irrelevant. This breeds fear and insecurity in the worst way.

The first step to overcoming negative thinking patterns is to overcome our fears.

How? By facing them with some backup artillery.

It's interesting how God mentions the mind in the same sentence as fear. He must know that our minds are the hotbed generators of fear!

Overcoming fear is the first step to healing the mind and the body. This process simply entails praise. Praise breaks the power of fear and puts us in tune with God's Spirit which is full of power, love and brings soundness of mind.

After praise comes spiritual rest and after that comes the healing.

I believe part of the reason we have such a huge problem with depression in the Western world, and hence a widespread reliance on anti-depressants, is that we don't know how to think. We have way too much knowledge and not enough understanding. There's a disconnectivity between our knowledge and our true selves. We are a schizophrenic culture, ever shifting in our views of truth and consequently rudderless when facing absolutes.

Like Adam and Even in the garden, we're always tempted to eat the fruit of knowledge rather than the blessings of knowing God in the cool of the day.

It's time to think about what we're thinking about! It's time to stop reasoning and start believing.

It's time to Know.

The following is a true story:

In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26 year-old mother stared down  at her 6 year-old son, Frank "Bopsy" Salazar who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fulfill all his dreams. Now, that was no longer possible...The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true.

She took her son' s hand and asked, "Bopsy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"

"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."

Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."

Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.

Fireman Bob said, "We can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day.  He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards!

And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast."

Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Frank, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.

Frank got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls for that station in Phoenix that day and Frank got to go out on all three calls.

He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Frank, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
 
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone - began to call the family members to the hospital.

Then she remembered the day Frank had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Frank as he made his transition.

The chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room?"

About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Frank's third floor open window and 5 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into his room.

With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him.With his dying breath, Frank looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?"

"Bopsy, you are, and the Head Chief, God, is holding your hand," the chief said. With those words, Bopsy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing."
 
With that, he closed his eyes one last time.

Happy Thanksgiving my friend. When you're tempted to feel like there's nothing in your life for you to be thankful for this year, remember little Bopsy and be thankful to be alive! :)

I received this as an email forward today and I'm sure some of you have as well. I rarely pay attention to forwards, but since this was from someone who I know doesn't just forward everything I took a closer look. After reading the story I checked it out and from all accounts it is true. Read on...

Isn't it just like our politically correct times for someone doing work in a politically hot topic field to receive more recognition than this heroine? Ah... such is our times.

The dewy grass sparkling in the early morning sun must have been playing tricks with my mind: for there, from behind the trunk of a towering pine, came the biggest Blacktail buck I had ever seen in my life.

His posture belied his regal heritage as he surveyed his domain, which unbeknownst to him held a very green and very excited young bow hunter, yours truly.

As he stepped tentatively out into the field below where I was hiding, I got a good look at his magnificent rack as he turned broadside; this buck had to be the Boone & Crocket world record! I slowly drew my bow, took aim and...

“Theron, wake up. You're foot's slipping into the creek!”

It was my brother Calvin. Sure enough, my foot had slid down the creek bank I had been napping on and was almost in the water.

It was all a dream. A wonderfully twisted and tortuous day-mare...

It took me a minute to get my bearings back. We had been bow hunting for four days, getting up before dawn and hiking out to our hunting grounds to hunt the elusive Pacific Blacktail deer at daybreak. Problem was, we had yet to even see a buck, let alone get a shot at one.

“Remind me again why we picked Blacktail for our first bow hunt?” I sleepily asked Calvin.

“Because we like challenges, remember?” he says.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Ha ha. Very funny.

Blacktail deer are widely considered one of the hardest species in the Northwest to hunt, giving fits to even veteran black powder hunter Jim Shockey. And here we are, on our first bow hunt, taking on the hardest animal we could pick!

Just that morning we had passed an old orchard where a huge black bear was helping himself to a breakfast of apples. It would have been an easy hunt had we been hunting bear. “Dang, I should have gotten a bear tag!” I thought to myself as I fingered the pistol on my belt, carried legally in case of a bear or mountain lion attack.

But no, we're after more elusive prey. God knows how long it will take us to find Mr. Blacktail, but find him we will. We've trained for accuracy with our bows and are confident in our technical skills, but nothing prepares you for the absolute silence as you stalk or wait for a deer in the deep Pacific forest. It's another world out there.

Bow hunting will either make you extremely frustrated, or extremely determined. Anyone can buy a high powered rifle, spot a deer with a bazillion power spotting scope, “stalk” to within 500 -700 yards and shoot. But that's not really sporting in my opinion, that's meat hunting. It's great if you need to fill the freezer and feed the kids or get a nice trophy to hang on your wall, but not if you want that true feeling of primitive pursuit.

Bow hunting is hunting in the purest form like our ancient ancestors used to do it. It actually gives the animals an advantage over the hunter. It requires more than being a good shot to be successful; it takes nerves of steel (most shots are between 20 and 35 yards), patience like Job and the ability to think like the animal you're hunting.

And it takes minimizing your body odor because deer have an acute sense of smell. Which of course means I'm forced to take more showers than I'm comfortable with during hunting season, but sacrifices must be made!

Back in the woods the next day, I use binoculars to check the edge of the forest clearing for signs of deer. Nothing yet. Might as well get comfortable, Mr. Blacktail is taking his sweet time, why can't we?

Looking out over the peaceful golden meadow while watching and waiting, I can't help but feel like I'm the most blessed man in the world. It's moments like these when from the depths of my heart come prayers of thanks to the Creator for all His goodness. What a beautiful world!

It's moments like these too that I can leave my worries behind and just spend some time in quiet solitude. Perfect ingredients for yet another daydream...