“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” Matthew 6:24

Halloween is the abbreviation for All Hallows Eve, a pagan holiday that originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain. The day marked the end of summer harvest and the beginning of winter, it was also a time of year associated with the dead; part of this festival was to dress as ghost to scare away evil spirits. This is not to be confused with All Saints Day or Soul’s Days, which the Catholic Church celebrates on November 1st, and 2nd. Today Halloween has morphed into one of the most  festive holidays in the US, but Satan has tried to make it his, and with the help of Hollywood, evil is thriving.

We are surrounded by the works of Satan. God gave us free will to either serve Him or to serve the world. The world’s views have slowly shifted, and society is lost in all mindless, useless sense of the meaning of life. To each of us this could represent an autonomous nature in which needs have become so egocentric that we forget the true meaning of why we were put on this earth. When you were created it was for a specific purpose, and if you do not have peace in your heart it is simply because you have not attained your calling.

We are all accountable for our actions and even if you do not serve God or believe in Him, you will one day have to answer to Him. We all see what happened with the elections last year and the outcry of hatred that came forth on both sides, but how is it that it has not gone away? Satan is alive in our country, causing such a divide of unsubstantiated enmity that I no longer watch the news. Who is telling the truth? Everything is debatable and tossed in the wind for answers. My answers come from the Lord, because He is the author and finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2).

October is a month when demons really manifest themselves because Satan has claimed this as his season. Did you know that these demons are really out there? They come as angels of light until they take hold of your soul and convert and twist reality into something distorted. They are continually reminding you that there is nothing more important than yourself. Demons are self-serving workers of Satan and their assignment is to attack anything that is holy. One of Satan’s favorite targets is the youth, Why? Because they represent the future. Another of Satan’s plans is to cause division in the families, mother against daughter etc. There is NEVER peace when there is dissension, and that is the way Satan wants it. I have witnessed such atrocities on social media with the youth that it sickens me. Some young girls portray themselves in such perversion, and yet these are the same young women that march for women’s rights. What a paradox! Humility and the fear of God are absent in the hearts of many. This all leads to the fact that many of these young women have fallen for the lies of the world. How can you make the world equal if you are putting yourself out there as a sexual object?   Call it low self-esteem, but in reality they are just looking for love. I know from experience in serving the homeless for over 17 years that lost souls need God, and nothing will change their circumstances until they develop a true understanding of who God is. There are many that are homeless spiritually, just wondering because you have no peace. I am here to tell you that God is real and he does answer prayer, but the Devil would have you believe otherwise. Satan is working overtime, so that means that we have to work even harder in praying for our loved ones.

There are many entrapments, and this is an example of one of Satan’s favorite ways to lure you into sin, through pornography. These statistics are from the organization: Fight the New Drug.

11 Porn Industry Stats That Really Need To Change:

1. Porn sites receive more regular traffic than Netflix, Amazon, & Twitter combined each month. (HuffPost)

2. 35% of all internet downloads are porn-related. (WebRoot)

3. 34% of internet users have been exposed to unwanted porn via ads, pop-ups, etc. (WebRoot)

4. Porn increased marital infidelity by 300%. (WebRoot)

5. At least 30% of all data transferred across the internet is porn-related. (HuffPost)

6. The most common female role in porn is women in their 20’s portraying teenagers. (Jon Millward.) (In 2013, Millward conducted the largest personal research study on the Porn Industry in the U.S. He interviewed 10,000 porn stars about various aspects of the business.)

7. Recorded child sexual exploitation (known as “child porn”) is one of the fastest-growing online businesses. (IWF)

8. 624,000+ child porn traders have been discovered online in the U.S. (Innocent Justice)

9. Child porn is a $3 billion industry. (TopTenReviews)

10. Porn is a global, estimated $97 billion industry, with about $12 billion of that coming from the U.S. (NBC News)  

11. In 2016 alone, more than 4,599,000,000 hours of porn were watched on the world’s largest porn site. (PH Analytics)

12. Eleven pornography sites are among the world’s top 300 most popular Internet sites. The most popular such site, at number 18, outranks the likes of eBay, MSN, and Netflix. (SimilarWeb)

Viewing Stats That Are Hard To Believe (from NCOSE):

13. 64% of young people, ages 13–24, actively seek out pornography weekly or more often. [1]

14. Teenage girls and young women are significantly more likely to actively seek out porn than women 25 years old and above. [2]

15. A study of 14- to 19-year-olds found that females who watched pornographic videos were at a significantly greater likelihood of being victims of sexual harassment or sexual assault. [3]

16. A Swedish study of 18-year-old males found that frequent users of pornography were significantly more likely to have sold and bought sex than other boys of the same age. [4]

17. A 2015 meta-analysis of 22 studies from seven countries found that internationally the consumption of pornography was significantly associated with increases in verbal and physical aggression, among males and females alike. [5]

18. A recent UK survey found that 44% of males aged 11–16 who viewed pornography reported that online pornography gave them ideas about the type of sex they wanted to try. [6]

So I ask you, is it guns that are taking our country down? Or is it sin?

^” Thou art Lord of all, and there is none that can resist thy majesty.”  Esther 13:11

I have family in Louisiana who I visit at least once a year. My sister Jo fell in love with Frank,  a sailor on leave visiting a friend in California. Jo married this southern boy when she was only 19 years old. She and Frank had four boys. These boys bleed gulf water and love their fisherman’s paradise state. So when Frank, the eldest of the boys, now a man, invited me on a fishing venture, I knew it would be an unforgettable experience. This story is about one day in late June, 2003.

Frank

Frank owns his own fishing boat, and though that speaks volumes of his love of the sport, to him it is a passion.

The night before our adventure, Frank called me to inform me that he would pick me up at 4:00 A.M. The day before, my mind was running wild with thoughts of having to use the bathroom while on a small boat. What if I had to use the bathroom in the middle of nowhere?  I tossed and turned all night worrying about this bathroom issue. It was not until 6:30 A.M. that Frank finally pulled up.

Jo reminded me that this was going to be an all-day ordeal and asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. I did have second thoughts, but only because of the bathroom situation. However, I reluctantly said yes. My other nephew, Nick, was going with us as well, and they invited Resio, a friend of theirs.

Lesson One

The seatbelt had not yet been buckled when Frank turned to deliver his first official lesson in a voice of grave solemnity: “Now look, Aunt Lynda — one thing you have to remember is that a hook can take your eye out. You must be very careful when casting.” Duly noted.

It was seven o’clock by the time we stopped to gas up the boat. Frank announced, with the authority of a man who had made this mistake before, that this was the last call for a public restroom. Then we were back on the highway, rolling through the deep green Louisiana countryside.

By the time we pulled into Port Sulphur, nature had opinions again. Frank’s solution was immediate and unbothered: “Go in the bushes, Aunt Lynda.”

Absolutely not.

A quiet survey of the situation revealed that the truck, strategically positioned, could serve as adequate cover. “I can do this,” came the silent resolution — and it was done.

Meanwhile, Resio and Nick managed to accomplish something that seemed almost impossible: they let the boat get away from them. One moment of distraction, a brief panic, and the boat was drifting free. Fortunately, a quick lunge brought it back under control before the adventure ended before it began.

Lesson Two

Wind in the face, the boat skipping across the water, marsh grass threading through the horizon in every direction — this was the middle of nowhere, and it was exactly right. Frank knew precisely where he was going, and as the boat settled into its destination, he took up his second role of the morning: fishing instructor.

The first lesson was the cast. Getting the line to go where it was supposed to go proved harder than it looked. Time and again the cast fell short, landing closer to the boat than to any fish with self-respect. Frank walked through it patiently, again and again — each time closing with the same line, delivered with the same straight face: “This is the last time, Aunt Lynda.”

The bait was shrimp, and Frank’s instructions were precise: cut each shrimp into three pieces. What followed was one of the finer exercises in personal fortitude of the entire trip. A deeply unpleasant yellow substance oozed from the shrimp and worked its way under the fingernails, where it had no business being. Frank was not looking every moment, and when he was not, the whole shrimp went on the hook. When he caught this, he was direct: using that much bait would guarantee catching nothing. He was probably right.

Resio, for his part, used whole shrimp from the beginning and considered himself excused from the rule entirely — being, by his own account, a serious fisherman. What the day actually revealed was a man who spent more time adjusting his line and rummaging through the tackle box than fishing, offered no shortage of enormous fishing stories that strained credulity, and managed to insert himself into nearly every mishap of the afternoon. Frank tripped over Resio’s pole. Nick lost the big one because Resio’s line crossed with his at the worst possible moment. And when a tangle between Resio’s line and another nearly produced — according to Resio — a shark, blame was assigned without hesitation and without much basis in fact. The man was a big talker and a know-it-all, and nothing about the day changed that impression.

Through all of it, the sand flies were making their own contributions. Small, relentless, and apparently equipped with teeth, they found every exposed inch of skin and used it. Frank identified them without sympathy: sand flies. As if that explained everything, and perhaps it did.

Nick

Nick caught the most fish — and he did it quietly. There is no other explanation for it. His stillness on the water had a quality that seemed almost hypnotic, as though the redfish simply chose to cooperate with a man that calm.

Resio, by contrast, announced his catch to the entire Gulf. He had hooked a stingray — loudly — and in the process of bringing it in, nearly succeeded in flipping the boat. Frank’s warning cut through the chaos without hesitation: “Man, be careful of that tail — it will really sting you!” Both Resio and Nick wanted nothing to do with the creature once it was aboard, and Frank, unsurprised, stepped in to free it. A quiet prayer went up that the stingray would make it.

Frank soon announced a change of location, and the three of us — Frank, Nick, and their aunt — wedged ourselves into the boat side by side in a configuration that could only be described as human canned sardines. Butt puzzles. Not even the largest wave could have separated us. It was, in its own way, perfect.

The new spot produced hardhead catfish — at least three dozen of them. Three came to this side of the boat. The hardhead is not an edible fish, which makes the catching of them a matter of sport rather than supper. Frank wrestled one particularly large specimen that refused to cooperate and, in a moment of pragmatic Gulf Coast justice, dealt with it against the side of the boat. Nick followed suit. Another quiet prayer went up — this time for the fish, and their hook wounds, and whatever peace awaits a hardhead catfish on the other side of a very bad afternoon.

By the last stretch of the trip, a quiet desperation had set in. Everyone on the boat had caught something — even Resio had landed a sizable trout — and I had not caught a single fish. Not one. Desperation has a way of producing prayer, and so I prayed, right out loud, without a trace of embarrassment.

When I opened my eyes, something was moving near the side of the boat. It had many arms and no business being that close. Frank identified it immediately: an octopus. His instructions followed just as fast — do not cast anywhere near it. I was fascinated by its long, reaching arms, but I’ll be honest — it looked far less like something from a nature documentary and far more like a giant tarantula. Unsettling and captivating all at once. I watched its every move.

The real turning point came not from prayer alone, but from a moment of clear-eyed observation. Nick had been catching fish all day, and when I finally looked closely at his situation, the reason was obvious. Nick had the best spot. Nick had the best pole. And Nick had the best excuse: from the moment we boarded, he had needed to use the bathroom, and his brother Frank had shown absolutely no mercy — never once pulling the boat over. Nick refused to take care of matters with me on board, and so he suffered in silence. Apparently, God took notice. Nick had been so abundantly blessed with fish that by this point he was too uncomfortable to even hold a pole.

His spot was now open. So was his pole. I claimed both without hesitation. The only adjustment was casting to the opposite side of the boat — because that octopus was still loitering right where the trout should have been.

The difference was immediate. My line cut through the thick, humid Gulf air with a clean, singing sound — the sound of a real fisherman’s cast. It seemed to reach the far edge of the sea. It was a perfect cast.

There were no fish.

“No more bait!” Frank called out. Time to pack it up.

The Patrol

The Fish and Wildlife patrol boats were docked as we pulled in. Frank, true to form, had one final lesson ready before the truck even stopped. “Remember, Aunt Lynda — you and Resio don’t have fishing licenses, so don’t talk to them.”

Really?

I talk to abandoned cats. There was no possible version of this moment where I was going to walk past uniformed officers without checking whether they needed Jesus in their lives. While the guys busied themselves hooking the boat up to the truck, I wandered over and made small talk.

One of the officers asked what we had caught. I wanted to tell him about all the hardheads and their hook wounds, but I held my tongue. Instead, I asked what their work actually involved. They explained that they were out there to make sure any fish caught were the legal size. I mentioned, helpfully, that we had measured everything we caught. Then I told them about the octopus.

There was a pause.

They informed me, with the kind of patience reserved for tourists, that there are no octopuses inshore in the Gulf.

I looked over at Nick. He was already smirking. It had been seaweed.

The Ride Home

On the ride home, my mind drifted to the disciples. Simon, Andrew, James and John — fishermen, every one of them. And it struck me how much this one day had quietly taught: you need the right equipment, you need patience, you need to stay still and stay quiet, and if you do all of that, there is a reward waiting at the end of the line. That is how they caught fish. And through that same training, they became fishers of men.

“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” — Mark 1:17

“We make our plans, but God has the last word.” Proverbs 16:1

The winds started kicking up, knocking over several planters in the patio. When Mike opened the door to the backyard a strong scent of smoke filled the room. We both ran to the front of the house and from a distance, we noticed that the smoke was coming from where Mikos and Jenny live. Within a few minutes Jenny called, saying that she was picking William up from school early, and from there she was going to pick up her pets. Then she would swing by to pick up Maddie and then head to our house. I thought that I would do the same thing and pick up Sonja’s boys early. We had to take the canyon road back and the traffic was backed up for about a half an hour with fire trucks, police and other emergency vehicles coming through.  We had to merge into into one lane to allow the emergency vehicles to pass us. We were also praying the entire time, the boy’s included the animals in their prayers.

In this part of  Orange County many people own horses, and those large animals had to be evacuated too. I had to allow for several horse trailers to pass through as well.

Both of our children,  Mikos and Sonja, live in harm’s way of the fire, and both families were evacuated. They live on opposite sides, of town about 12 miles from each other. The fire started near Mikos and Jenny’s and quickly spread across to Sonja and Russ’s neighborhood. Sonja and Russ live directionally  across from Peter’s Canyon, a popular walking trail that is also a wildlife reserve. Peter’s Canyon Regional Park was completely destroyed, but all the homes in the area were spared. It is as if Peter’s Canyon was sacrificed to save the homes. Peter’s Canyon contains 350 acres, of which 55 acres are set aside for residential homes. Peter’s Canyon includes wildlife like mule deer, bobcats, opossums, and raccoons. This is the playground for my grandsons, who have caught many gross lizards while hiking.

All nine of us, including two dogs and five cats stayed in our three-bedroom home. Our son Mikos was in Las Vegas on a business trip. Mike has a hard time with our two cats, but he had been gracious with the guest cats until he came into the kitchen this morning and busted me giving our cat water on the kitchen counter. Words could not express his discontent.

The animals all misbehaved last night and the dogs barked, especially Paco, which is no surprise, as he barks at the wind.

As of 8 A.M. the fire has been contained only 5% and the evacuation orders have not been lifted. Both of the kids’ schools are closed as well. So the a  takeover of my house is under way, with all rooms being a mess, but everyone is safe and their homes have been spared. We praise God for that.

We thank God for the work of the brave firemen and women and continue to lift them up in prayer.